When my ex left she took everything that was even remotely hers. The magnets on the refrigerator, the sheets, the towels, the dishsoap were all gone. I can't fathom why in the hell she took my toothbrush.
The only thing she did leave, the only thing I really wanted her to take was her 23 year old niece. I wanted her the fuck out of my house but when I came home that day Karen left she was sitting in the middle of the living room crying, knowing she'd be out on the street in a few hours. I couldn't bring myself to ruin her life, even though her aunt had just ruined mine. "I guess you can stay here until you find somewhere else to go" would be the only thing I said to her for the next two months.
Annie had come to live with us two years prior. She had some foreign name I couldn't pronounce but it did start with an 'A'. She hated being called Annie which only served to amuse me. It was just temporary, until she realized that the cost of living in New York was far out of her reach, then it was just until she finished her bachelor’s degree, then just until she got a job, then she just needed to pay off a few bills, then she really needed a masters to work in her field. I resented her more and more as my relationship with Karin went downhill. I just wanted her gone.
She was beautiful. My poker buddies would give me high-fives whenever they saw her and never believed me what I said I just wanted her out. They were positive I was extracting rent from her in some elicit way but all she was to me was the remnant of a 10 year relationship gone bad. She did pitch in for groceries where she could, and she kept quiet and stayed out of my way. We worked our schedules to avoid each other as much as possible. I think she figured the less I saw of the better her chances were of not becoming homeless.
It carried on this way for nearly a year. I grew to not hate her. She was hustling, trying to finish a masters degree, working a shitty waitress job to keep the minimum bills paid. I didn't think she wanted to be a leech, it was just the position she was in. Things changed for us on a rare Sunday night when I was up late. I had treated myself to a bottle of really good scotch and was sitting on the couch packing my pipe when she came home. She was still in her waitress uniform and smelled of greasy french fries. She came in and collapsed in exhaustion on the couch next to me. I lit my pipe, she hated when I smoked indoors but not dared complain about it. "Rough shift?" I muttered between puffs. She looked at me with tired eyes, "I really could use a drink."
She was so beaten down I had to pour her a glass, even though she wouldn't appreciate my Glenlivit 18. She took a sip and I could tell it warmed her right to her soul. I pored a second round, then a third. We talked of the situation, she finally told me how grateful she was for letting her stay and how angry she was at her aunt for running off like she did. We talked about life, and everything. We ripped though an entire quart of very expensive scotch.
We woke up the next morning in each others arms, a little hung over, a lot horrified, but very relieved that we were still clothed.
( The RP would probably pick up in the next few weeks, drinking again, talking .)
Submitted December 18, 2014 at 03:42AM by dppthrowaway4536 http://ift.tt/1BZSwkZ dirtypenpals
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