“Can you just flag that transaction? I won’t even buy myself a computer for that price, let alone a complete stranger.”
“Yes, sir, I’ve done that, but it can take up to thirty days to be investigated.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and said dryly, “Awesome. Whatever. Can you reissue new cards in the meantime?”
“Well, I’ll need to talk to the primary name on the account.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”
“That’d be Mr. Winter—it looks like he opened the account.”
“All right, but it’s joint. You do see my name, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Mr. Winter is my fiancé, so—”
“Unfortunately, I’m only legally allowed to reissue cards to the primary name, since you’re not listed as a married couple on the account.”
I laughed, but it wasn’t out of humor. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, sir.”
“Ma’am, we live at the same address. We both drop money into this account. I’m literally holding the card associated with it in my hand. I can tell you Mr. Winter’s social. His blood type. Shoe size.”
“For security purposes—”
“Oh my God. Fine. I’ll call my fiancé at work and tell him he needs to stop being a detective and instead has to fix our locked account because the bank refuses to acknowledge my name.”
“Thank you for calling—”
“No.” I hung up and saw two texts from Calvin waiting to be read.
What’s this fraud notice on our joint account?
Did you call the bank?
I growled and angrily texted back:Yes bt when I said I was ur fiance teh rep refusedd me access.
Three dots populated on the screen as Calvin typed—he must have been watching his phone.Are you serious?
As if Id jok.
I’ll call.
Sry.
It’s not your fault.
Yuu gong to rip them a new ass?
Yes.
I admit that I laughed at Calvin’s very frank text, because I could already envision how that conversation would go. He’d be nothing but calm and polite—polar opposite of my grouchiness and nonexistent patience—but he’d still manage to somehow put the fear of God into someone. I was jealous of Calvin’s ability to wrangle people with just a calculated look or carefully constructed statement. He was always able to commandeer total respect simply by walking into a room, and meanwhile Phone Rep Gertrude from Tennessee fed me a total line of homophobic bullshit I couldn’t wriggle around no matter what I tried. Such was life, I guessed.
I ran to Duane Reade while the wash finished its cycle, Calvin handled the bank, and the not-person in the wall kept living their best life. We’d pretty much run out of all household necessities at once, and Calvin had wandered around the apartment last night, writing a list. He’s not typically a list-maker, so I knew it was serious and that my future would be nothing but a significant other’s unrelenting disappointment if I didn’t go shopping—especially since Calvin had to deal with Gertrude now.
The sky was spitting big fat snowflakes. Not enough to stick, but it was definitely a threat that winter was knocking down autumn’s door. The overcast morning was easy on the eyes, at least, until I reached the end of the block and the entire street was gridlocked by strobing firetrucks. I squinted while moving around a growing crowd to see—
