Earlier that morning, I’d recorded a message and installed an app on my phone that was supposed to call Jason when I pressed a certain button on my smartwatch.
I had foreseen everything except how much I would regret not recording his facial expression when my pre-recorded message rang out from his phone.
“Hi, Jason. We’ve detected some suspicious behaviour on your account. Specifically, you’re pretending to get a phone call every time it’s your turn to pay at the till.”
Jason’s jaw dropped and his face turned exactly the same shade as the tomatoes in our cart.
The cashier coughed awkwardly.
The couple behind us started giggling.
I crossed my arms, savouring every second of his discomfort.
‘That was an important call, perhaps the most important call of all,’ I observed.
This time the cashier didn’t manage to disguise her laughter with a cough.
Jason couldn’t meet my gaze. ‘Let’s just…finish checking out.’
And for the first time in months, Jason pulled out his wallet and paid for our groceries. $389.76. I couldn’t help but notice the cashier (the same one from before) subtly pat me on the shoulder.
‘Do you need help with the bags, sir?’ – She asked Jason, a fake sweetness in her voice.
‘No, I’ll do it myself,’ he mumbled, grabbing as many bags as he could carry.
The car ride home passed in awkward silence. Jason gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. I stared out the window, trying not to laugh.
Finally, when we pulled into our driveway, he spoke. ‘That was low, Lauren.’
I turned to him, all sugary sweetness. “О? You mean it’s lower than disappearing every time it’s your turn to pay?”
Jason opened his mouth, then closed it again.
What could he say? He’d been caught red-handed.
‘How long have you been planning this?’ – He asked finally, as we unloaded the groceries.
‘Not as long as you’ve been planning your convenient phone calls,’ I replied.
‘I don’t plan them,’ he protested weakly. ‘They just…happen.’
I raised an eyebrow. “Every time? At the checkout? Like clockwork?”
He had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘Okay, maybe I’m avoiding it a little.’
‘A little?’ I laughed. ‘Jason, you’ve turned avoiding the grocery bill into an Olympic sport.’
Jason had the grace to look ashamed.
“I didn’t think of it that way. I just…I don’t know, Lauren. It was stupid.”
‘Yeah, it was,’ I agreed, but softened when I saw his genuine remorse. ‘But also pretty smart, I have to admit.’
‘Not as clever as your stunt with the bank fraud department,’ he said, pulling out a gallon of milk. “That was just diabolical. How did you even come up with that?”
‘I couldn’t stand it any longer when the tellers looked at me with sympathy, like you were some kind of leech that tricked me into paying your bills.’
Jason wrinkled his nose. ‘You mean the whole shop knows?’
“We’ve been buying from the same shop for how many years now? And you’ve been pulling this stunt for months… Of course they noticed, Jason.” I put the bananas on the kitchen table. ‘It’s not like you’ve been doing it subtly.’
“Well, okay. You got me. No more fake calls.” He raised his hands in a sign of surrender. ‘But I have to say, you changing your contact name to “Bank Fraud Squad” was pretty brilliant.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, bowing sharply. ‘I learnt from a better fraudster.’
We laughed as we finished stacking the groceries together. For a moment I felt like we were a team again.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said suddenly more seriously. “It was really stupid. I don’t even know why I kept doing it.”
I shrugged. “We all have our weird quirks. Just maybe next time pick one that doesn’t leave your wife holding the bag. Literally.”
And guess what? From that day on, Jason’s magical disappearance disappeared completely.
In fact, he insists on paying every time we go shopping. Sometimes he even pulls out his phone and puts it on the counter as we leave the shop, as if to prove a point.
But I keep my smartwatch charged. Just in case.
