Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.
Setting: The Sunday after chapter 2.
Will Asks Monique
The piano recital for Will's niece was not simply a piano recital for his niece. It was a recital and concert for all of the five to ten-year-olds in the conservatory where Will's sister and brother-in-law had enrolled their daughter.
The performances were, with a few notable exceptions, exactly what one would expect of young beginning musicians of average talent – dreadful to anyone but the close relatives of the particular performer. Alexis, alas, was not one of the brilliant exceptions, but Will and Monique thought she was above the class average as they wildly applauded at the end of her solo performance.
Monique leaned over and whispered in her husband's ear, "Should we send our boys for music lessons?"
The performer who followed Alexis was a nine-year-old whose clarinet produced more squeaks than musical notes. "We will consider it," he responded.
The pastries, cake, and punch served at the informal reception following the recital reflected the amount of tuition that parents paid to send their children to the conservatory. As parents and children began to trickle out the four Barrington and Du children approached Monique and Will.
"Can you come over to our house?" Andrew, the oldest, asked. "Grandma and Grandpa will be there."
"Andrew has a new video game I want to play," Louis explained.
"Please?" Alexis begged. Her older brother tended to ignore her, but she liked playing with her cousin, David.
"Aunt Barb has a new car. Can we ride with them?" David requested.
Will chuckled, "Only if it is acceptable to your Aunt Barbara."
Will's sister didn't mind taking all four children. Will used the drive for conversation with Monique. "I found something you said the other day deeply troubling."
"Sorry. What did I say that bothered you?"
"We were talking about our financial security, and you kept referring to my money, the money I had."
"Well I didn't bring any cash to the marriage."
"We're married. Common property. What's mine is ours. When you talk about my money, not our money, it sounds like you are questioning our marriage."
"That's not what I meant... There're reasons I don't like saying our money."
"Could you explain one or two of them to me, please? It disturbed me, but I'll try and be sensitive to your feelings on the matter."
"Love you, Sherlock. I'd give you a big kiss if you weren't driving–"
"Can I have a rain check until Barbara's?"
She laughed, "Sure. Okay, one thing is I'm just not used to the idea of inheriting a ton of money. The Grants always worked hard for everything we had. Being born into a rich family just–"
"We're not that wealthy!"
"Rich enough it feels weird to me... I think the big reason I don't want to say 'our money'... You do know most of your relatives think I married you for your money."
"I don't think that's–"
"Will!"
"Maybe some, I don't think it's most."
"Probably most. I'm not sure how many would admit it. That was Barb's worry when she met me."
"Barbara?"
"Yep. She was going to hire a detective to do a background check on me."
"I can't believe Barbara would do such a thing."
"Oh, she didn't. But she told me she considered it at first. I like your sister. We try and be honest with each other. I may be more honest with her than I am with you."
"But I'm your husband!"
"Trust me, some things a husband shouldn't know. Anyway, ask Barb if you don't believe it. She hears the family gossip, always stands up for us – tells doubters that we're outrageously happy together. We are outrageously happy together, right?"
"I am."
"Good, then we both are. But part of me wonders if, maybe, you sometimes worry I married you for your money. That's what I mean when I talk about 'your money' not 'our money'. I want you to know I married you because I love you, not to get my hands on your bank balance."
"Our bank balance."
"It bothers you?"
"Somewhat."
"Anyway we can work out a compromise here? How about when you say 'our money' I know it means you love me and see us together, as a couple. And when I say 'your money' you know it means I love you for yourself?"
"We can try."
Monique suddenly laughed, "You were worried about it too – the idea someone would fall in love with you just for your money."
"What do you mean?"
"The way you pretended not to have piles of it."
"I made no pretense. You simply assumed I was middle class, and I saw no reason to dissuade you from your assumption."
Monique thought for a minute, "Okay, maybe. You're almost as honest as your sister."
"Almost? I'm always honest!"
"Okay, tell me the truth – what's your opinion of Kim?"
"Ms Possible is... I would like to think I am tactful and polite in addition to being honest."
"Which is to say you want me to change the subject?"
"Affirmative. Can we return to why a wonderful woman like you fell in love with a stick in the mud like me?"
She laughed, "You just had some rough edges. They're coming off. You're respectful, polite, caring, and attentive. Sometimes you're insightful. Occasionally you're sensative. And you're never condescending and don't mansplain. And besides..."
"Besides?"
"It's as easy to fall in love with a rich man as to fall in love with a poor guy."