She was always unapologetically pissing his money away. Right now, in her capacity as an executive assistant in an integrated health clinic, she was spending every penny that she earned on the ridiculous products they hawked. “Health is wealth,” she said, smiling, and he thought about slapping her across the face in the way he used to when their lovemaking was wild and experimental, when she used to ask for things that would horrify them both now.
These days, she meditated at 6:00 am then shared her daily mantras, which included things like “I am grateful for my strong legs and kind heart. I’m capable for my energy and my health.”
He used the words gratitude platitudes once and she didn’t talk to him until the next day.
He took a deep breath. “Okay, Shelley,” he said, when he got home, and there was a pile of bills overflowing on their kitchen table. She hadn’t even bothered to open them, the envelopes with their red past due lettering searing into his retina. If you didn’t pay property taxes for a year could the bank or the city repossess your condo? Wasn’t everyone in debt since Covid?
He didn’t know when everything in his life had gotten so out of his control.
Shelley never stuck to anything. She’d wanted to be a singer and was constantly singing, songs in every conceivable genre. He made decent money in tech, so he thought, but she had bled him dry, hiring one expensive vocal coach after another, a personal trainer, even though she was fit enough, a treadmill and elliptical machine for the house, a photographer, who required a make up artist, and hairstylist, of course, and naturally, someone to teach her to effectively use her social media platforms. Then there were the songwriters and the cost of studio time.
When none of her songs turned into viral hits, he paid for a course in copywriting, which lead to an internship at an advertising agency, where they didn’t hire her. Maybe, he thought with irritation it was because she was always late, because her lunches were too long, and she never finished any of her tasks.
She’d also briefly been a dog walker but quit as soon as January hit and the weather turned uncomfortably icy. She kept the car though, and the insurance and parking tickets and rising cost of gas was killing him too.
He thought about leaving her, but they were married, and his parents would have been disappointed in him for giving up. He turned to lottery tickets and online gambling, but he only lost more money. He considered getting an extra job, driving for Uber or Lyft at night.
One night, she was peeing with the door open, the mystery having long gone out of their relationship, when he noticed she’d forgotten to flush. This would normally disgust him, but he noticed that it smelled different, almost metallic and oddly sweet.
He looked and saw that her urine was gold, it was sparkling and shimmering. He put on a rubber cleaning glove from under the sink and touched it. It hardened on his glove, and when he touched it with bare hands, he was sure. Shelley was excreting gold.
He had to figure out how to get more of it. He watched her closely and asked if it was possible that she was pregnant. She’d been more emotional lately, and she’d never had a regular cycle.
She told him she’d been secretly getting acupuncture from the fertility specialist at work, “it was only half price, don’t worry” she said quickly, and he kissed her and assured her he was so excited and happy.
He went out and bought three boxes of pregnancy tests. He got her to pee in a cup, then acted shocked and disappointed when the tests came back negative. “We have to give it another day,” he kept saying. All told, he had four gold bars, or 11.75 pounds of gold. It wouldn’t solve their problems by a long shot, but it was a good start.
He couldn’t keep getting her to take pregnancy tests but there were other ways. He started coming onto her more often, getting back to their days of ropes and toys. One day he asked her to join him in the shower, then he asked her pee on him. It was something they’d never done before, and he watched porn and went on forums to see it was done, to hear why people were into this stuff. He kept reminding himself of the payoff.
She seemed surprised but as always, she was willing.
He googled How To Make a Gold Pan, then lined the shower floor with a thin layer of metal covered in a cheese cloth.
They did it three more times.
Every time, he closed his eyes. Her pee was always room temperature, or even cold, like the shower water.
Every time, he bought her a small gift. She never could say no to garnet or amethyst earrings.
One day he was shocked to find that the bathroom smelled like rotting fish.
Shelley was pale and sitting on the toilet seat.
“Dr Shawna was giving me these incredible pills and this serum. It was made of colloidal gold, turmeric, sea buckthorn and rosehips. I felt amazing and so energetic and my skin glowed.”
“The products were in their experimental phase.” She added. “It was this huge privilege, I thought to get in on something so early, something that was going to save the world.
She took a deep breath.
“So what happened?” He asked. He tried not to sound impatient.
“One of the other test subjects died.” She started to cry. “I didn’t really know her well, her name was Helen…”
He reached out and touched her arm.
“That’s terrible.”
He wanted to ask her if she had any of the pills or serum left, and she answered like she knew that was what I cared about, disgust coating each syllable.
“No, I don’t have any of it left, Connor. She made me give it all back to her.”
“I don’t think it’s ethical or safe for me to work there anymore…”
He knew he was supposed to reassure her that he loved her no matter what, in richer and in poorer, that he was committed to her and their life, but he couldn’t do it.
This was the push he finally needed.
He wasn’t worried about her. You could get far in life as a tiny blonde woman with one dimple in your left cheek and an easy laugh, he thought.
She’d find another guy like him, except kinder, and with more infinite resources.
He actively wished it for her.