“Dusty an allowance is a set amount of money given to children or spouses in regular intervals for personal spending,” he said.
Her hands were folded in her lap as the green eyes stared intently at him. “What do I have to do to earn this allowance?”
“Usually, a child performs chores around the home to help the mother, maintains good grades in school and stays out of trouble. In turn, I as the father, would provide you with a fixed dollar amount either weekly, every other week or monthly, depending on how responsible you are with the money,” he said.
Dusty’s hand went into her pocket and brought out a $10 bill and placed it on his desk. She smiled at him and he didn’t know why. The lack of understanding in her move showed on his face as he looked down at the bill.
“I only spent $10 of the 20 you gave me yesterday. This is your change. I am giving you back what I didn’t use,” she said.
“You may keep it,” he said, looking over the rim of his glasses. “You can also keep the original twenty I gave you before I left which means now you have $30, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Will it be a part of my allowance?”
“Let me talk to your mother, and we will come up with an allowance for you and your sister,” he told her, providing a smile back.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, waving and leaving the office. “Let me know when you’re ready for my dance lessons.”
He nodded.
Raphael added talking to Willow about an allowance for the girls to his list. He also wanted to consider the amount of money necessary per month for Willow. He had to factor in groceries. That would include a great number of fresh ingredients which meant more frequency in shopping. On top of all of other changes in his lifestyle, he was living with three vegetarians. Loads of fresh vegetables were required to keep them happy. Then he thought of his mother who practically lived in Quilt shops, craft stores, and more. Willow would need a debit card with a fixed amount to keep track of her crafting budget. Raphael updated his list with more items.
Clean the gun.
Threaten teenage boy with gun.
Show daughter how a boy is supposed to hold her when they dance.
Dance lessons with teen daughter.
Clean bigger gun and knife to threaten teenage boy.
Movie night.
Set time with the girls on Saturdays.
Write financial plan, include stocks, bonds, index funds and a few blue chips.
Talk to Willow about setting an allowance for the girls.
Talk to Willow about her monthly allowance for the house and personal accounts.
Debit card for Willow’s crafting.
He’d barely logged into his trading account when he heard the clearing of a voice and looked up to see Willow standing in the door. She offered a really large smile, which either meant what she wanted was going to cost a shit load of money or she planned to later make him squeal again.
“Yes, Willow, can I help you with something?” he asked, keeping his eyes on her face.
“Raphael, I’m sorry to bother you, but is there any way I can get the names of the wives who will be in attendance next week?” she asked, grinning widely. “I want to personalize the gifts I’ve made. With the new machine, I can embroider the items with an initial in less than five minutes. Is it possible to get their first names? It would be such a cool icebreaker.”
“Again, with the icebreaker. Just be yourself; you don’t have to do anything special, Willow,” he told her.
“As your wife, I have to represent the best that you are to these people. We are not showing up as a bunch of ragamuffins that you rescued from the woods. I am going to walk in there with wonderful baskets to make each one of those women wish they could be as creative and thoughtful as I am and to show them you chose well,” she said, sticking out her chin.
He didn’t argue. There was no need. The woman had made up her mind that this was important for her to do, and if he didn’t give her what she wanted, he was never going to get a goddamned thing done. Raphael picked up his phone and dialed the Archangel. It rang twice before it was answered.
“What do you want?” the voice on the line said.
“Willow,” Exit replied, “she’s doing that crafty thing women like to do and making stuff for the wives next week. I need the names of all the wives that will be in attendance so she can personalize whatever in the hell she’s doing.”
Archangel said, “What?”
Raphael slowed his breathing so that he didn’t curse out a man of the cloth or curse out his wife for wanting to do the thing which was inherent in her nature. His wife was a giver. He exhaled and explained to the Archangel once more.
“Willow is bringing gifts to the wives next week. She’s personalizing the gifts. I need the names of the wives, including yours. First names only please,” he said.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Would I ever call you because I was bored and missed your dazzling conversation skills?”
“Fine. My wife is Cabrina, it’s like Sabrina, but with a C. Mr. Mann’s neighbor may also be coming and his wife is Tameka,” Archangel said, “Mr. Yield is married to Millicent. Mr. Stop is married to Judith, but she goes by Judy and Mr. Mann is married to Sharon.”
“I’ve met her. Decent cook. Nothing like my Willow, but it was edible,” Raphael said, looking up to see his woman blush at his boast. “Wait, is Mr. Stop coming too?”
“Don’t know. Anything else?”
“Nope, that’s all. Thanks. I appreciate this,” Exit said, ending the call. He looked at Willow, who was pleased that he had jotted down the names during the call, and he tore off the page and passed it to her, hoping this was the end.
“Thank you, husband,” she said, grinning and turning, but then she stopped. Raphael held his breath. She wanted something else. He waited, not looking up, which would give her the courage to say what she wanted. “You said it was a water park, correct? We don’t have swimsuits. I tried to order a few online, but I mostly kept coming across bikinis. I prefer to have the girls try on the suits, you know, so I can make adjustments in styles. Will we be able to stop on the way and grab suits for us?”
“The girls don’t need to be in bikinis,” he said in a gruff tone.
“I agree, which is why I asked if we could stop on the way. Also, I have no idea what the limit is on the credit card you gave me, a financial parameter on my spending or anything. Plus, we need to discuss an allowance for the girls, one for myself, and when I’m able to drive to go to the store because I’ve used up most of the fresh fruit and veggies,” Willow said.
“I’m hearing you,” he replied, not providing an answer yet. He needed time to think about it and work out a financial plan. Willow cleared her throat again.
“Also, if I may add this bit of info, do you want to bring a gift for the men? I mean you guys are all specialists in what you do. Should they have like a monogrammed handkerchief or something?” she asked, smiling at him with that I’m going to make you squeal later if you say yes look. “Did you say his name was Mr. Stop? That is an odd name to have. Hold on there, Mr. Stop. You don’t have the right of way.”
She started to laugh but quickly cut it short when she noticed he wasn’t amused. Willow swallowed hard thinking maybe she’d asked for too much. Also, he was trying to work on whatever it was he did for work, and she could possibly be interrupting his plans for an upcoming assassination assignment. Her eyes grew wide in worry. Raphael read her face.