Let It Be

Chapter 34

Lacrosse practice had finally ended, so Sam would come and watch me while volleyball practiced. When I came out of the locker room the first day he came, though, he walked over to me with an irritated expression.

"Why are you wearing those?" he asked, meaning my shorts.

"Because I obviously can't run around without them," I laughed.

"No, I mean, why are you wearing ones that are all ripped up?"

Aw, darn it. I didn't want him to notice. "We're just practicing. I don't want to throw them out just because they've got a hole or two." I was wearing my spandex under them for modesty.

In other words, I couldn't afford to replace them, not with both of the boy's birthdays last month. I was still struggling without the money I had spent on their presents. I would have just made something, but Nate had wanted a certain book so badly (a book that turned out to be eighteen bucks) plus the seven dollars that I had chipped in to buy Mason's shoes and the four spent on a ball... that was a week of grocery money flat. I was trying as hard as possible not to chip into emergency funds.

"Shea," Coach Dunlap called, annoyed. "Get your skinny butt over here."

"Gotta go." I gave Sam a smile and dashed off.

However, my crappy shorts made an impression on him because he handed me something nonchalantly before school three days later.

"What's that?" I asked stupidly, knowing quite well what it was. I just didn't know why he was handing it to me.

"A credit card."

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"It's yours."

"What?"

"Your name," he gestured to the bumpy letters. There it was. ABIGAIL R SHEA. "It is hooked up to my account."

"Sam! I can't live off your money!"

"You can. You are."

I tried to steady myself, put my thoughts into words he would understand, say it in a way that at least wouldn't offend him if he didn't get it. "Sam, that is very kind of you, and I appreciate the thought. But let's wait until we're married for that."

"Abigail, that is ridiculous."

"No, it's not," I said, trying to force a casual smile. "Come on, just let me have my way. I need time to be independent a while longer before leeching off you."

He didn't smile back. "This is stupid." He was frustrated. Very, very frustrated. He didn't get some things in the least, and I had no way of making him understand. This was one of those things.

"No, it's not."

"My girl will not go around in ripped shorts," he snarled.

I tried to argue, "It's just one pair--"

"Everything, Abby. You are flat broke. I know why you eat at my place," he accused with a glare. "I know that you do not eat any other time because you can barely afford it."

I blushed and looked at my shoes. I didn't know he had picked up on that. I thought it had just looked like I was starting to eat normally again. I had felt bad lying to him about it, but I let it slide, not wanting to get into an argument like this. And I'd only been doing it this month, spending my grocery money on the boys. I usually only half relied of Sam's food.