well okay then
Sunday 1 July 2007 | I like a cookie
Half-working, entirely dispiritedly, when the Sikh’s Ex-Wife calls to say she and her male friend (boyfriend? I don’t even know anymore) are on their way to my place, bringing back my dressers in his truck. She’s done me the favor the last four years of storing/using them and is now kindly returning them, since the Brujo and I will have in our new home both room and the need of drawers in which to put things. She hasn’t really spoken to me since I became rather more mentally interesting than I’d been when we were both unhappily married to Indian men, and somehow better friends. I failed to be available enough, by anyone’s standards. Not the only casualty of life since divorce.
The dressers are hastily unloaded and my visitors prepare to leave immediately, declining my offers of water or rest. I run inside and fetch a garish little mass-market paperback, saved from being packed, that I thought she might like. (I always thought it mismarketed, Kaye Gibbons’ Charms for the Easy Life; it should have been a trade title.) “Anyway it’s a nice bathtub book,” I offer apologetically. She rifles through it, frowning, clearly planning to throw it out the truck window as soon as they’re out of sight.
“This is a cute place, though,” says the male friend, peering in the door.
“Yeah, I really love it.”
“So why are you leaving?”
“I’m moving to Arizona.”
“Oh?” Makes a face. “Which part?”
“Tartarus.”
“Oh, jeez! Why?”
I shut down, turn laconic. “Job offer.”
“Ha! Well, I hope they’re paying you a lot.”
“No, not really.”
They drive away and I return to the cool dark indoors, to Pye’s plaintive mewing and the keyboard and my horrible, horrible, horrible brain.
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