My Mother's Macy's Card

The summer I graduated from the University of Michigan, I moved to Manhattan with my college roommate and "just for emergencies"
my mother's Macy's charge card.

A few weeks later, my mother called, "Where's my Macy's charge," she demanded.
"In my purse," I replied.
"I don't think so," she shouted across the telephone line from the midwest.

Someone had charged $4,500 worth of men's clothing to her charge. "Call this man at Macy's immediately," she said, and hung up on me.

The man -- I'll call him Mr. Scary -- loomed over me in the tiny office. He'd spoken at length with my mother and the two of them agreed that I was witless, irresponsible, and lacking in the maturity that goes along with a charge card to the "World's Largest Store."

He shook his head sadly. He'd expected more from a University of Michigan graduate!

"Don't you ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever apply for a Macy's charge," he said. "Never. Never. Never."

And so I did not.

Then last week, a woman in my exercise class passed out 25% off Macy's Friends and Family cards to a few of us.

I quickly ran over to Macy's and scooped up a summer palette of shirts for my husband.

"If you open a Macy's charge today, you'll get an extra 20% off," my salesperson said.
I quickly calculated -- that's 25% + 20% off already reduced prices!

What's the statute of limitations in cases like this? I'm married with a career; I even have a grown son with his own charge cards.

"Okay," I said.
How far back did Macy's keep records?

"You're approved," he said.

My mother -- who always loved a bargain -- died in February.
I'd been waiting for a sign from her.

Did this mean she's forgiven me?