Paying the bills

It was that time of month again, the time every person has come to dread. The time that sends butterflies flying rampant within the lower regions of the belly area. That notorious moment which has caused more problems in peoples lives than most anything else. That moment called bill time.

First of the month for most people usually means mortgage payments, Electric bills, car payments, cable bills, phone bills and whatever else one may fancy for their lives. With each passing year seeming to bring new kinds of bills to the table. The table, whether it be the small round breakfast kind located conveniently against a large bay window, or an enormous hand carved piece of beautiful red oak laying magnificently in the center of a dining room, like that of some beloved leader lying in state. Whatever it is, it is usually covered at this time of the month with white envelopes of every kind, from many companies, all demanding the same thing; payment of their money.

Jeremy was is in his mid twenties. Married, with a little boy on the way. He worked hard every day and had allowed his wife to quit her job to raise the child. The bills and the burden of providing was on his shoulders squarely now, just as it had been on his fathers, who awoke every morning bright and early to deliver the mail. Jeremy worked as a general contractors superintendent, building commercial buildings, making sure they were built on time, often staying well beyond normal working hours to make sure the project was one of picture perfect quality. The money was decent, but only gave them enough to make it from month to month. With their bills being many there was usually little left over for any other luxurious.

The bills however continued piling up, with doctors copay's, increased taxes, fees on utilities, and ever increasing grocery bills, which caused thoughts of distress to run rampant through out Jeremy's mind. Anxiety often fluttered his heart giving him cramps in his upper chest. Though he was young and in relatively good shape, the stress of life was catching up to him, and catching up quickly.

He reached for one envelope in particular, which read; Santiago Mortgage Company. The price listed inside was $1200 for the month. Jeremy grimaced when he noticed it. Not that he had never seen it before, just that each time he did seemed more terrible than before. He ripped out a check which had the logo of his favorite baseball team imprinted upon it, the Houston Astros. It was the team he had grown up watching on tv with his dad, as the old man reclined in his favorite chair, sipping on his favorite beer and stroking his only sons thin blond hair. Jeremy thought about his dad for a moment, the old man had died suddenly a few months back from a massive heart attack. He wished he had the rough and rugged man here with him now, he needed his advise, needed his encouragement, needed him to tell him everything was going to be okay. He wrote out the check for the mortgage and reluctantly signed it. Then he placed it in the envelope, sealing it with his thin moist lips, kind of like the seal of a kiss.

The next bill was the dreaded electricity bill, which seemed to increase in size every month, and quickly had become one of their biggest bills. He thought back three years earlier to when they first moved into this house. He remembered the power bill then, a measly one hundred dollars. He looked over the current bill, it was now a gut wrenching, three hundred fifty-nine dollars. A sharp pain struck his chest and he grabbed it in agony. He thought this might be the big one, but then after a moment remembered he was to young to have a heart attack. The pain soon subsided, and he wrote out a check to the all powerful electric company.

His wife came into the room, her soft blond hair flowed with the draft of wind that passed as she strolled, like the wake of a motor boat. He looked up at her, noticed her enormous pregnant belly, it seemed as though it were about to burst at the seams. "Hi hunny." He said, a defeated look upon his face.

"Whats the matter darling?" She asked, sitting down at the table next to him. She had to ease her way down because of the large center section of her being. "You look worried."

Jeremy rubbed his fore head, pain began to throb at his temples. he leaned over and kissed her belly, smiling, trying to comfort himself with his future son, telling himself that it was all worth it, his wife, her magnificent beauty, her tall, slender body, that had been the envy of many a young girl. The child she was carrying, his pride, his joy, the son he would one day turn all this over to, if he could make it that far. "I am." He simply replied, leaning his head on her chest, hoping she would pet him, comforting his heart. She stroked his medium length brown hair, twisting it around her fingers as she did so. He reeled in pain when she pulled it slightly.

"Sorry." She said, then began to pat his back. "It's going to be okay hunny, I have faith." For some reason this struck the wrong chord with him, as though she was being nonchalant about the whole thing, as though she were dismissing his concerns and trying to deflect his attention.

"faith?" He asked sitting up, almost demanding an answer. "Faith is not what pays the bills." He pushed her away slightly, then flipped his fingers thorough the pile of bills resting on the table. "Faith doesn't pay these." He continued. She sat there, staring, not knowing exactly how to respond. He had always been a man of faith, one that believed that God would always take care of them, and to hear him talk like this was not normal.

"Hunny," she uttered, her voice calm, reassuring, "God has always taken care of us. Isn't that what you always say?" His head spun around from her, not wanting to look her in the eye when he responded to the question. He thought about it for a moment, yes, in the past they had always been taken care of, they had always had exactly what they needed to survive, they had never gone hungry. But for some reason, that no longer seemed enough, something felt like it was missing, even though he had heard a thousand sermons at church on God giving us just enough to survive. Those sermons at this moment in time felt like lies, as though someone had created such stories to keep people like him wrapped inside some false faith, barely surviving, barely living. He desired more, and it felt right to do so.

"Your right darling." He finally said, turning to look at her, her crystal blue eyes sparkled with light from the chandelier. "But for some reason, that doesn't seem like it's enough." His words caught her by surprise, he was always the one preaching that God provides just what we need, right when we need it, and anything more is excess, and not godly. She had bought that philosophy hook, line and sinker, and always was content with having just enough, because just enough seemed like much more than what most people had. She glanced around at their home, it wasn't a mansion, but it was surely big enough for them, and certainly big enough for two or three children they may have in the future. It was four bedrooms, two thousand one hundred square feet, with a two car garage. A lagoon like pool sunk beautifully into the back yard, surrounded with tropical forest style greenery. She gazed at the large screen flat panel television that hung stately on their living room wall, attached to wires that brought them every channel one could imagine. She looked back at him, thinking he couldn't be serious, he had to be joking, what did they lack, what did they need, what else could a man want or desire? She did not understand, and when she finally spoke she made sure her voice carried the tone of her lack of understanding. "Hunny, what more can you want? Look around, look at everything we have, we have more than most people in the world, we are truly blessed."

"Truly blessed? He asked, almost demanding, with a tone of doubt in his voice, of which she noticed immediately. "You see this..." He ran his hands through the pile of envelopes again, disheveling the order he once had them in. "Is this truly blessed? Do you know what I have to go through each day in order to pay these bills? Do you know what I have to go through every month, when I sit down to do so? Do you know the pain that strikes my chest every time one of these cursed envelopes enters our mail box, as though my heart knows exactly the moment the mail man places it in there? How can you call this truly blessed? Is it because you know you have no dealings with it whatsoever, and that it is squarely on my shoulders?" He stopped, realizing he had just said a mouthful, realizing that he had said enough to actually make him winded. She said nothing, however, just stared at him in the eyes, as though she was searching for someone else, as though the man she married had been possessed by some outside force, who was now placing this doubt in his heart. He turned away, suddenly ashamed of what he had said. Instantly sorry for having said it. He knew she was shocked. Knew she was hurt. knew that if she stood up to leave him at this moment he would not stop her. Knew she had a right to do so, and perhaps for her, it would be better. He imagined his life without her, knew that he would never be the same. That he would live an empty, wandering existence, like that of a transient, going from place to place, hoping to find the joy he once enjoyed. Then, he thought about her, her life without him. HHow she deserved much more, how her naturally gentle heart would go on, surviving, finding another man to take his place. How she would one day forget about him, forget about the life they had once shared together. He looked back towards her, her eyes filled with tears, her mouth trembled slightly, he knew what she would say. He stood however, not wanting to hear it, not wanting to know what she thought of him at this moment. That hearing it would be to hard to bear, that if he heard it, his heart may give out for good. "Don't go." She gently said and reached her hand out to him. He stopped, didn't turn around, simply waited for her to say it, knowing that he deserved to hear whatever she had to say. "I know you are stressed over a lot of things, but I love you, and I know you love me too..." She stopped, patted her belly softly. It seemed to move with the child's kick when she did so. "I know you love us." His head fell into his hands. Loud sobs arose from his mouth, and soon seemed to rise from his entire being, as his body convulsed with each cry. She rose up quickly, as best she could, and wrapped her arms around his neck squeezing it as hard as she could. He continued sobbing, soaking her light pink night gown with his tears.

"I'm so sorry!" He cried, "Please, forgive me. I love our life, it just seems hard sometimes, especially around this time of month, when piles of bills lay on our table, staring at me in the face, almost mocking me, telling me I am not able, I am not capable, I will never be free." He sobbed some more.

"I understand." She said. "You are not the only one who feels that way. I hate that you have to carry this burden alone, if there was something I could do to relieve some of the stress on you, I would do it. I love you darling. You are my everything, and I am eternally grateful for what you do."

"I know you are my love. You never do anything to make me feel other wise. I had a momentary melt down, I promise, it will never happen again."

"Oh hunny," She responded, her voice, tender and nurturing, "Of course it will, and when it does, it will be okay then also. For I know you love me, and that you would never give up on us." Her words seemed to trial off when she completed them, his heart filled with comfort once again, as he knew now that she was one of the most understanding people in the world, and that he was truly blessed. Not because of the material things he possessed but because of a possession much more valuable, her love and understanding. He thought of that as she released him, and he went back to the table, wiping his wet eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. She watched him as he took his seat again, separated the envelopes and once again placed them into an orderly fashion. She smiled, knowing that his confidence was returning and that they would be okay. She left him to his business and went off to make him breakfast, knowing that each one of them contributed what they could to make this life work, to make one another happy.

As she flipped the pancakes in the pan, she looked up, he was smiling as he filled out the checks and placed them into the self addressed envelopes that came with each bill. She knew he was thinking about their blessings once again. Thinking about the life they shared together. Thinking about the life they had created together. As she tossed the pan again, flipping the hardening batter inside the pan, she felt a moist spray fall from her pelvic area, and looked down realizing that she was now standing in a pool of her own fluids.