Wedding | Blog of a Mad Black Woman

My Mother's Wedding

My mother was getting married June 25th 2011. My sisters and I would be bridesmaids. Having told *Steve, he had asked if he could come along. The wedding had fallen during proposed block leave, so there wouldn’t be a problem with him taking time off from work. I thought it was a great idea. He could finally meet my family and friends all at once! Prior to this discussion, he had already told me that due to not having his civilian passport back in March to come be with me in London for my birthday, he was already “on it”, meaning he was in the process of applying for one. This was mid-April 2011. I thought things were finally falling into place.

Closer to the wedding, he told me that he was still coming, but that he had found a good deal on flights but hadn’t been paid yet. It was true… he got paid on the 1st and 15th of each month. However, I was not at all prepared for what he said next. “Put it on your credit card”. I really didn’t want to, especially as he didn’t even wait for me to offer, but also because I had purchased goods in the past which he still had not paid me back for yet. As the conversation continued, I felt more and more uncomfortable. By the end of it, he had promised me he would transfer the money to my bank account once he’d been paid. He was in the army. I knew there was money coming in so reluctantly, I agreed. I was his wife after all. He had also asked me to return with him and stay in Savannah, Georgia for a couple of weeks, so we could spend a total of three weeks together. I told him I wasn’t prepared to because I was fed up with being the one to pay for hotels all the time. Steve said that he understood and would pay for the hotel. I purchased my return tickets on my credit card, for which I paid off the majority the next day because I had most of the money in my checking/current account to cover my own ticket. Within the next week or two, I’d be getting paid from a TV job I’d done, so knew the cost of my ticket was going to be paid off before interest kicked in.

Pay day came which was May 1st. He didn’t mention the money he owed me, nor was any transferred to me. I figured, because his pay checks were split into two, he was waiting for the second pay check of the month, May 15th. Again, nothing. So I asked him what was happening with the money. He told me he was going to physically bring it with him and give it to me when he arrived. I really didn’t mind if that’s what he chose to do, as long as he paid off the balance on my credit card.

Anyway, it was during a conversation on May 24th, an argument erupted. I found out that after purchasing my return tickets and placing the cost of his ticket on my credit card, he had lied. He hadn’t applied for his civilian passport. I was livid. You’d think he would have learnt his lesson from not having one in the first place, thus making me spend my birthday alone – after making me look like a fool, telling everyone he was coming. But no. I could not believe this was happening again. He said he was still coming and would be able to get his passport within the month he had left before the wedding. He would have his passport expedited. I couldn’t understand why he felt he had the need to lie. When he had asked me to book his flights he already knew he hadn’t even applied for his passport. What the hell was wrong with him?

The next day, May 25th, he applied for his passport. His passport arrived just four days before he was due to travel.

A week before he was due to arrive, he asked me to find a hotel and once again, to put the bill on my credit card, but he would pay for it. Weighing out the pros and cons in my head, once again, reluctantly, I agreed. Return tickets had already been bought for both of us (I’d paid an extra $255/£170 to be on the same flight as him); I’d already cancelled work for the three weeks we’d be spending together; and he’d already promised to pay me back in full on his arrival.

A few days before he was due to arrive in London, Steve told me he would only have enough money to cover half the cost of his ticket. Good grief. Here we go again. I asked him about the money for the hotel. He said he’d still pay that back. OK. I wasn’t best pleased, but I was happy with that! Explaining that if interest kicked in, he would have to pay for that too. He agreed.

Two days before he was due to arrive, he told me he would not be able to pay me back for his tickets nor the hotel. No words can even begin to express how I felt when I heard what he had to say. I was hoping that at any moment, I was was going to awake from the nightmare, or he was going to tell me he was only kidding. But Steve was serious. To be honest, looking back on it now, I’ve concluded that he knew he didn’t have the money, but wanted a “free” holiday. It didn’t matter that before I agreed to put anything on my credit card for him there was a zero balance on it. I’d always been good with money, and especially after having to quit my Account Manager role in July 2007 due to a road accident where a double decker bus hit my car whilst I was stationary, I’d learnt how to spend within my means. I was still able to treat myself to breaks/holidays/luxuries though.

I collected him from the airport on the evening of May 22nd. He had brought dress shoes (he had to have a pair for formal events in the army), jeans, t-shirts, trainers/sneakers and a couple of sweaters, not to mention designer underwear – all of which I had bought for him (see “Our First And Second Shopping Trip To The Mall Together” and “Early Gifts From Me, Valentine’s Day And My Birthday“). But of course, there was something missing. He hadn’t brought an outfit for the wedding.

The next day, we headed to New Bond Street (just off Oxford Street) where I had to purchase a suit, tie and shirt for him. I already had a pair of unisex cuff links which I ended up giving to him. He’d brought no money with him at all. I even gave him a pay-as-you-go phone to use.

I made sure I didn’t ruin my mother’s wedding day by showing how I really felt. Behind the huge smile I was hurt. I didn’t know what else to do. The wedding was fabulous. My family and friends welcomed him.

Unlike when I went to see him and having to pay for hotels, etc, myself, he stayed with me in my loft apartment – all expenses paid. I cooked, washed and cleaned for him; took him sightseeing; took him out for meals as he wanted to try out different restaurants. I paid for everything, which is exactly what he should have done for me when I went back with him. Of course, it didn’t happen that way. In fact, by the time I left for the US with him, the debt on my credit card was $4,000/£2,750. All of which belonged to him.

(Sightseeing around London)

As I had turned down work for three weeks and did not account for the expenditure on my card, for the next couple of months I struggled to pay off the full balance owed. Instead, I paid instalments. Interest kicked in and he made no attempts to help me clear it down. Finally, after numerous arguments about his finances, he agreed to open joint accounts with me so I could help him save and rebuild his credit score; one checking and one savings. In August, I’d managed to organise his finance in such a way over the past six weeks that I was able to transfer $1,000/£638 – with his permission, to help me clear his debt in my name, although he was livid that I was actually making him pay it off. It was only meant to take three working days for the money to reach my account. When it hadn’t he started yelling at me saying “That’s a thousand dollars Persia, where is it?”. Suddenly, expenditure mattered because it was his money.

The money arrived into my account a total of five working days later. He was not pleased, but I was.

(*Not his real name)