“I think there’s some lunch meat in the drawer. And yes, the bonus was in there from a couple of weeks ago, but aren’t you supposed to also get your paycheck?”

He bends into the fridge to pull out the slender package of sliced turkey. He adds a bottle of mustard to the counter beside him. “Do we have any more tomatoes?”

A quick glance through the window over the sink tells me there are. “I can pick at least a couple more. Ken … hon … the paycheck?”

Ken grunts something that is not an answer and takes a plate from the cupboard. A knife from the drawer. He begins assembling his sandwich.

“You know, when I’m on the road all the time, sometimes all I really want is a simple sandwich. Do you know how hard it is to find a place that can do just a turkey on wheat, nothing fancy, none of this brioche buns and aioli crap? It’s hard, Jewelann. Sometimes, almost impossible.”

“Ken,” I repeat, irritated.

“I’ll call Marie at the office and find out about it, okay? Relax. They said there might be a glitch in the system while they restructure. That’s one of the reasons why they gave such a big bonus. It’s like an advance against the paychecks.” He’s facing away from me as he says this, and I’m glad, because I don’t think I can hide the dismay writing itself in every line on my face.

“Like an advance … so, you have to pay it back?”

Ken laughs, scoffing. As though I’m an idiot for asking, although that’s literally what an advance means. “No, of course not. But it might take a bit for it all to even out. That’s all.”

“It’s just that I got the new hot water heater—”

“Yeah, I noticed. It’s so much better than it was. I don’t know why you waited so long,” Ken says.

I test my words in my head before I dare say them aloud. “Any idea of when you’ll get the paycheck? I need to know.”

His voice changes a bit as he faces me. “There should be plenty of money in the account, Jewelann. Are you worried?”

Of course I’m worried.

Ken’s always been the breadwinner. That’s how he’s always wanted it. Insisted on it, even, and it made sense when Eli was little for me to stay home and take care of things here, especially because Ken was on the road so much. He’s always made a fine living, more than enough for what we should need. I’m the one who keeps us on this edge, the one who lives beyond her means, the one with the spending problem.

“The budget is supposed to be your job,” he says. “But of course, now that I’m home more often, if it’s too much for you to handle, I can take it over—”

“No. It’s not too much for me to handle.” And I can’t lose control of it, either.