Michael Carter Pushed Me Toward a Fifty Million Dollar Funeral
Michael had brought the household budget from the desk in the spare bedroom, and he had circled a payment due on his business account.
“We need to put off the nursery furniture,” he said.
I glanced at the list I had made the previous weekend.
A crib, a dresser, and a small chair for feeding the baby.
I had priced each item twice and found a used dresser that needed only a fresh coat of paint.
“For how long?”
“One month.
Maybe two.