I Finally Took My Ex-Husband’s “Three-Thousand-Dollar” Card to the Bank—Then the Manager Brought Out an Envelope with My Name

After the divorce, maintaining one had become another expense I couldn’t justify.

Losing it had seemed sensible at the time.

Then every errand began taking twice as long, and every additional shift had to be weighed against the cost and exhaustion of getting there.

By the time my school shift ended, the two-dollar fare in my coat pocket seemed heavier than two dollars ought to feel.

At home, I counted my coins.

Quarters first.