“Stop spending so recklessly again!”
Anna sighed. Lately, this reprimand or something similar started almost every conversation with her husband, James, especially when she showed him any of her new purchases. Recently, Anna stopped even mentioning anything new she got, whether it was a sweater, shoes, or a bag. Of course, her husband couldn’t help but notice the new additions to her wardrobe, leading to another argument.
In truth, there was nothing to criticize Anna for. She earned just as much as James and they both contributed equally to their household budget. No matter how much he wanted to, James couldn’t claim he was the one supporting her or paying more in shared expenses. Yet, for some reason, every purchase Anna made for herself began to irritate him.
Anna was baffled by this change. They didn’t lack anything – they were steadily paying off their mortgage, could afford a good summer holiday, and still had enough money left for little pleasures like new clothes. But suddenly, James had become unexpectedly stingy. Anna wondered what had caused this shift. They had known each other for years—met at university, developed a crush that grew into a deep affection, and eventually love. They married right after graduation and had been happily married for five years until recently.
James worked at a law firm, specializing in civil law, and was thought to have a bright future ahead, potentially even a partnership someday. Anna managed finances at a large real estate agency. Their work schedules didn’t allow for thoughts of starting a family yet, even though they were both twenty-nine. Both sets of parents often hinted that it was time to consider children.
“Don’t wait too long, Anna,” her mother, Sarah Watson, a fit and active woman, would say. “It’s risky to have children later; the baby might not be healthy.”
Sarah had given birth to Anna at thirty-three, which Anna often reminded her of, pointing out she had no developmental or congenital issues. But Sarah would just shrug and say, “Got lucky. But don’t push it. I was fortunate, you might not be. It’s a gamble.”
Her superstitious gestures, like spitting over her left shoulder, were impossible for Anna to argue against. Anna sighed inwardly, knowing it was futile to convince her mother otherwise.
James’ parents were the same, constantly telling him they wanted grandchildren, preferably two or three.
“You have everything,” James’ father would start, “a house, a car, a job. Money’s not an issue. Settle your Anna at home and have some kids. That’s what wives are for.”
“Oh, don’t pressure them!” his wife would interject, feigning indignation. “Women can accomplish a lot! But hurry up, James, we’d love to play with grandchildren!”
Time passed, and Anna and James grew used to these conversations, accepting them as inevitable. But the parents didn’t let up. Seeing their gentle urgings had no effect, they switched tactics.
Anna’s mother, usually energetic and upbeat, suddenly began to “fall ill.” She gave up her beloved Nordic walking and swimming, recounting at every visit how even household chores had become difficult. Her husband was mostly silent, speaking only when Sarah sought his affirmation, at which point he would nod briefly and turn away.
Anna knew it was all a show. Her mother was remarkably healthy, apart from slightly high blood pressure. Sarah had always been an athlete, even winning regional competitions. At over sixty, she hadn’t lost her fitness. Anna couldn’t recall her mother having any illness more severe than a cold, and those were mild too.
The constant complaints were clearly deception. Anna could see her mother’s health was fine as she cheerfully ate favorite treats and salads. When Anna visited, there was always a meat pie and a complicated soup on the table, meals beyond the capability of a truly ill person.
James would just smile at Anna’s frustrations over her mother’s clumsy manipulations.
“Predicting her own demise already? And no grandkids to spoil first?” he’d tease, hugging her and kissing her forehead gently. “Ignore it, Anna. They’re just impatient. We’ve discussed this, right?”
Indeed, they had made a decision. Anna planned to work another year to secure enough experience to find an equally good position after maternity leave, then quit. She intended to focus on her health and go through the necessary exams that she had been neglecting. Then, they’d start a family, perhaps not just one child.
But they weren’t ready to share their plans with their families, who would likely criticize their slow timing. Anna and James preferred not to further agitate their already anxious parents. Thus, these discussions about future children were held privately between them.
Everything was going relatively well, despite Sarah’s lamentations about her “worsening health,” until James began nitpicking her supposed overspending.
After some contemplation, Anna reviewed her expenditures using her banking app. Was she spending more without realizing? Was James, the prudent husband, simply trying to warn her?
Her analysis showed nothing had increased. Anna put down her phone, puzzled. Did James have work troubles, causing financial worries?
Deciding to address it, she brought it up with James over coffee one weekend.
James shook his head after taking a sip. “Everything’s fine at work, Anna. Really. I wouldn’t keep something like that from you.”
“Then what’s the issue?” Anna pressed. “Look, I’ve checked my expenses—they haven’t increased.”
She showed him her phone’s charts, which he reviewed with a furrowed brow.
“Last month I even spent less,” Anna added, puzzled by his frown. “What is this about?”
“It’s my mom,” James admitted reluctantly. “She’s been insisting that we need to save more, so we have money for a child. Says we’re spending too much…”
“So she’s counting my money?” Anna said slowly, beginning to realize who was behind James’ nagging.
James nodded guiltily. Anna felt a flash of anger but then laughed instead.
“What a sly one!” she shook her head. “You know she’s pushing us to save to say later, ‘Look, you’ve got money saved, no excuses for not having kids!’”
“I know,” James said reluctantly. “But how do I prove that to her?”
“You can’t,” Anna replied, deep in thought as she looked at her coffee. “James, how about we tell them our plans? They’ll probably complain it’s too slow, but we’ll explain the situation—about my job and all. Maybe they’ll understand. Even if they don’t, it won’t be worse.”
“Yeah, maybe…” James considered.
“Tomorrow’s Sunday. Let’s invite them for tea and discuss it all together. I’ll bake something. Your parents love my shortbread cookies.”
“Okay,” James agreed, embracing her and kissing her forehead. “You’re right—better to discuss openly than to make plans in secret.”
