Emergency Fund

Halloween was coming soon, and Elijah was close to saving up for a date between him and his husband. Ten dollars shouldn’t be too much to get in a short period of time, but fate played with him, and here he was digging into the couch for loose change.

“We must be the only home to not have change stuffed in the couch cushions,” he gripes. “Plenty of Cheetos, but nothing else. Ugh.”

Giving up on the couch, Elijah searches the rest of the house. He begins to lose hope when he goes behind the TV and finds a bulky envelope under the stand. Pulling it out, Elijah opens the envelope to a thick stack of bills, with hundred-dollar bills taking up a third of the stack. Not believing his luck, he lets out a “What!”

“Babe! Come here,” he calls.

He waits for a man shorter and more muscular than him to come out of the study. Excited, Elijah shows off the cash. “There’s gotta be at least five hundred dollars in this! We can party all night with this!”

Instead of sharing the feeling, Rosco blankly stares, and then whispers, “Fuck.” Something about his reaction doesn’t settle right with Elijah.

“Rosco, do you know what this is?”

Rosco doesn’t answer, still looking at the wad of cash like it was his worst enemy that unexpectedly appeared to kick his ass during finals week. Elijah fears the worst — he married into a criminal family, the money was for liposuction because Rosco secretly hates that Elijah is fat, and the list goes on.

Little does he realize that, when Rosco finally confesses, the situation is worse than he could imagine.

***

Taylor looks up from behind the bar counter to see his regular come in disheveled. Elijah takes a seat and quietly asks for ginger ale, his go-to drink when troubled. The bartender serves three other regulars before going back to the sullen Elijah.

“What poison is affecting you?” Taylor asks. It’s been three months since he last saw Elijah this upset, which was unusual because Elijah rarely ordered ginger ale more than once a year. Whatever the problem is, he knows it won’t be minor.

Elijah sighs. “I was looking for change around the house and found a lot of cash,” he starts. “I showed Babycakes it, getting excited that we can have a great time with about three grand.” Taking a long drink, he hesitates. “Turns out that the money wasn’t random. Rosco’s been squirreling away money in case he needs to run from a bad marriage again.”

“Oh… that’s rough, man.” Taylor vaguely remembers the time Elijah met his husband when Rosco was in an abusive relationship, and Elijah was the one who saved him from the miserable woman. They sheltered at the very bar he was in, as a matter of fact.

With another sigh, Elijah continues, “I never laid a hand on him or insulted him. Made sure all the triggers were hidden away or out of the house. And all of this was for nothing because he’s gonna leave me no matter what.”

Obviously, this isn’t true. As perceptive as Elijah is, the situation went over his head. Taylor fills another glass of ginger ale for him and turns to wash the dishes, thinking. His parallel story-telling isn’t going to work this time; he’s never been in Elijah’s shoes about this. But he can’t handle seeing his customer this down. How bad is it to make up a similar situation and offer advice on how Elijah should handle the emergency fund? What kind of advice can he give?

Taylor distracts Elijah with questions as he contemplates, and by the fifth glass of ginger ale, Taylor has a story ready to tell. Hopefully, Elijah won’t call him out on his lie. “You know, my wife has this blanket from her childhood. Took it with her everywhere, and would cry if she didn’t have it with her. The first thing that went into the house we bought was her blanket.”

Elijah nurses the new glass. The look on his face tells the bartender that he has no idea why he’s sharing.

“She doesn’t need it as much anymore, but it’s still there in case she needs to be comforted and I’m not enough. Do I take offense? No, because it doesn’t say anything about me. It’s about her and how she feels at the moment.”

A new customer comes in and demands Taylor’s attention for a large order of drinks. By the time Taylor returns to Elijah, he finds the ginger ale is drunk and a slightly more positive Elijah walking to the door.

“You have a plan then?” Taylor calls out.

Elijah nods. He waves at Taylor before leaving. The bartender picks up the empty glasses, hoping it goes well and that he needs to tell his wife the lie she’s in just in case Elijah talks to her about it.

***

It’s been two days, and the cash is on the counter, mocking Rosco with its presence. Since Elijah found the cash and went to the pub after the confession, Rosco hadn’t been able to look at it, much less touch it.

What was he thinking, burying the fund somewhere that Elijah could find? Why didn’t he just get a safe and bury it in the background, and then plant lavender bushes to hide it out of sight? He did the same with his ex, but oh no, Elijah was better, and that meant Rosco stupidly lowered his defenses. He might as well have put the cash in the bedroom, where they both can see it.

Rosco hides in the study, camouflaging himself with stacks of work and endless online meetings. Abusers are smart enough to never interfere if there are potential witnesses. Just in case, he has a letter knife nearby to grab if he needs to defend himself.

He hears the door open. His chest pounds hard, matching the footsteps leading up to the study.

He sees Elijah by the door. “I’m going out on errands,” he states. “Should be back in two hours.” Rosco glances at the cash in his hand, knowing they’ll be gone in the blink of an eye. Swallowing, he accepts the fate that he’ll have to start over.

Elijah steps into the study and puts the money next to Rosco. Staring him in the eye, Elijah adds, “That should give you enough time to find a new hiding place. Text me if you need more time.”

That is all. Elijah kisses Rosco on the temple and leaves. Without the cash. Without a wounded statement, he was oh so hurt by Rosco’s secret. He just. Leaves.

It feels like an eternity as Rosco stares down at the cash he spent years growing. This is a test, isn’t it? It doesn’t feel like one. The tone of Elijah’s voice was genuine, and no hint of malice. Maybe he really means for Rosco to keep the money and put it somewhere new and safe.

There is no better way than this for him to trust and love Elijah even more.