Tish and I took off for part of the morning. We’re not church goers, she and I, but I always like to treat Sunday like a different day. We splurged on breakfast at a small, ocean side diner and took a walk on the beach. Then we came back to the house, and while she played with the dogs and swam, I indulged myself with a book.
I can’t remember the last time I bought a book.
So the weekend passed without incident.
I changed all the linens on our beds for the brand new ones I bought and now I’ve gathered up our accumulated laundry to wash. I can use the laundry room here, just another perk of being ‘live in’ help. So it’s just seven o’clock in the morning and the washers are full and going, the coffee has just begun to perk, and I’ll be off to the market after breakfast.
While I clean out the refrigerator my mind drifts off to other things. I enjoyed my supper with the Harper’s. Mickie and Dwayne. Kim’s parents. Very down to earth people, with no pretensions at all. We had a backyard barbecue with hamburgers, hot dogs, and all the trimmings, topped off with great big slices of watermelon. Better than the food was the company. Not only can’t I remember the last time I bought a book, I can’t remember the last time I was someone’s guest.
Mickie played guitar for us. She’s incredible. I’ve never been around people who just play instruments at will. Kim is taking lessons, too, and they were very persuasive about my considering some kind of instrument for Tish. She’s excited by the prospect because Kim plays, and would like to pick up the guitar, too. I think seeing Mickie play had an impact, as well, because she’s a woman and she makes her living playing music. So I’ve promised to think about it, which means that I’ll sit back and see if she nags me enough about it, or, better yet, takes some initiative and has Kim ease her into it.
There’s a good music program at the high school, too, which Mickie suggested I look into as a place to start. After that, she assured me, she would be happy to ‘hook us up’ with a proper teacher if Tish still had an interest.
I like it here.
I’ve loaded a garbage bag with uneaten food. I don’t think that Mr. M has eaten anything from in here for the entire weekend, but the doughnuts are gone. He’s added nothing to my list, and I’m going to cross some things off, myself, because he’s just not here enough for me to justify overloading the larder.
“It’s early, isn’t it?”
I’m going to have to train my ears better. Mr. M is quiet coming in and out of rooms. Probably because he’s usually barefoot in the mornings and at night. And all those shoes sitting upstairs in his closet, too. He just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me yet. My adrenaline is sufficiently pumping now, though.
“Yes, it’s early,” I agree. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. Can’t hear a thing over there. Coffee ready?”
“Just about.” I sit at the table with my list, adding, subtracting, getting up every once in a while to check on an item. It’s mostly perishables, I loaded up on dry goods and paper products last week.
“Is there any coffee, baby?” I look up and there’s a woman standing in the kitchen doorway. She’s very tall, very thin, and very disheveled, her hair sticking out here and there.
“The coffee should be done in a minute,” I say, because Mr. M isn’t saying anything.
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I wish that she had just waited in my room, I’d’ve brought her some coffee. I didn’t expect Shi to be here earlier than usual, I don’t know what I expected, but I feel as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be doing.
“I gotta run, I’m late. I’ll pick some up on the way,” Summer says, and she plants a kiss on my cheek before she leaves the kitchen. I get up and follow her to the door, to see her out. She has her car here, she followed me back from the club last night. “Call me later,” she says.
“I don’t have your number,” I tell her, but she smiles at me.
“I programmed it into your cell last night. Call me.” And then she’s in her Land Rover and she’s gone. She’s late for a shoot this morning, some swimsuit thing, I think, I don’t remember, she told me last night though.
Summer is a sort of friend of mine. I’ve been running into her at this thing and that; she’s at about every party in town. She’s a Playboy model, and an actress, I guess, and sometimes when I’ve been to parties at the Playboy Mansion she’s been there, and she’s always been friendly. Not phony fake Hollywood friendly, but ‘hey, how ya doin’, let’s grab a drink’ friendly. She’s been working on a CD, and when I ran into her last night at this club she came over and talked to me about it, about how different it is to do that than record lines for overdubbing, and things like that.
We ended up back here, and she spent the night. It wasn’t anything. Now why do I feel like I gotta explain myself?
Shi is still in the kitchen, and she’s poured me some coffee already. Summer coulda waited, but I think she wanted to be out of here, too. Maybe if we had been alone she woulda stayed, but that’s okay, I don’t really mind that she’s gone. When I said it wasn’t anything last night, I meant that it wasn’t ANYTHING, and when it’s not anything I would have liked it if she’d just gone home last night instead of fallin’ asleep and crashing here. But I guess that’s cool, too, because it was good to be out last night and to run into someone who is into their own shit and not interested in mine.
There were no awkward moments at all at the club last night. She just spotted me at the bar and came up to me and started talking. It wasn’t a loud place, and the floor we were on was a private floor, for, you know, people like me, and her, that don’t want other people not like us staring, or comin’ up for autographs or any silly shit like that.
I just wanted out last night. The house was empty, I got itchy, and I wanted to BE someplace. So this was a good place to go, because even though it’s a club, and a bar, I can be with a whole set of people who can kinda relate to my situation. I don’t have to drink there, and I’m not the only one who’s walking around with bottled water or club soda. If I want to dance, which I don’t like to do, but if I want to, I can go down to the dance floor, and if I just want a place to hang, I can hang.
So Summer and I, we got to talkin’ and it got loud, so we cut out for here.
No big deal.
This isn’t the first time I’ve brought someone home and it won’t be the last, but I don’t think I’ll be doin’ this again any time soon. I don’t even think I’ll be calling Summer, because she’s a real party girl and I’m not a party guy anymore. So it would just be frustrating, and last night was frustrating enough. Because no matter how much I tried to make myself want her, and Summer is someone a lot of men want, I just couldn’t, couldn’t, ah, shit.
“Is there anything special you want from the grocery store?” Shi asks me.
“Nah,” I say. Not unless they got Viagra on sale. Shit. I don’t need this. Not now. I thought that I had passed that point, that readjusting my meds would cut that shit short, but I guess I’ve still got THAT side effect goin’, too, along with wanting to eat bags of sugar, and night sweats. And weight gain. And memory loss. I know that they tell you about all this, that my doctors told me, but I don’t think they tell you enough.
Well, at least I have something to talk to my shrink about this afternoon, besides the usual crap. Doc, my dick don’t work. Again. We’ve had this talk before. A while ago. But then the problem sort of went away, at least for a coupla months it was like, only an off and on thing.
That’s sort of a lie. I could get it up fine as long as I wasn’t with Sarah. With my friend from AA, damn, that was like a miracle, it had been so long. She wasn’t even lookin’ for that, not like I was. Not that she minded one way or the other. She didn’t. At least I don’t think she did, she never said. Most of the time we spent together wasn’t alone, or in bed. Most of the time we were at meetings, or out for coffee with the group, or talking. I talked a lot with her. So when I, we, crossed that line, I was kinda surprised that I could, you know, do it, because I hadn’t been doin’ it with anyone.
So I’m sitting here, smoking, drinking my coffee, listening to Shi make me breakfast and not giving a damn what that might be, and I’m not nearly as upset about last night as I think I should be. I don’t know why, maybe because it’s just nothing new. Maybe because Summer comin’ over last night wasn’t planned and wasn’t something I needed to hide. Not now. No one to hide it from. Or maybe because I wasn’t lookin’ for sex last night anyway. That’s like a surprise all on its own. Or maybe it’s just because it’s today and today I don’t care about my dick. Well, not much.
French toast again. Four slices straight up, Shi’s not foolin’ around today. And a bowl of that fruit salad stuff, that shit’s good. Syrup. I’m hungry.
Shi sits down at the table with me. If I hadn’t seen her eat dinner, I wouldn’t think she ate at all. Cigarettes and coffee. Cigarettes and coffee. She should be a road manager. She’s got the skills and the attitude and the habits down.
“Will you be here for lunch,” she asks me.
“No, just dinner,” I tell her. She’s nibbling on the end of her pen, no, she’s biting it. Hard. She’s not looking up at all, then she does, and she looks at me, the end of the pen still in her mouth, her teeth still gripping it.
“And will there be a guest?” she asks me, and she’s trying not to laugh, I can see that, see her one sided smile kinda quivering at the edge of her lips. But it’s her eyes that are, like, brimming with a laugh.
“No, just me,” I tell her, and I feel my own laugh coming on. I can’t look at her, if I do there’s gonna be French toast all over the table. My shoulders are shaking from holding it in.
“Fine,” she says, and I can hear the laugh in her voice. “I’m going to go straighten up upstairs and then I’m going to the market.”
“’Kay,” I say, and that’s it. I nearly choke swallowing the food in my mouth and I’m laughin’ out loud and so is Shi, her hand covering her smile a little bit. I didn’t know what to say a few minutes ago, and I don’t know what to say now, but laughing feels good, and I get the feeling I don’t have to say anything at all. Shi shakes her head at me, still laughin’, smilin’ in my face. She has a nice smile.
“I, umm, I hope I didn’t run anyone off,” she says, getting up from her seat. “Maybe we should have a little signal or something, hang a sign on the door?”
“It’s cool,” I tell her. I’m shakin’ my head, too. “Really, she had to leave anyway.”
“And so do I, or nothing’s going to get accomplished today. Enjoy your breakfast,” she says. And she leaves, too, but that’s okay. Man, this day wasn’t starting out too good, but it’s feelin’ a whole lot better now.
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Stray women. Something else I’ll have to be on my toes for. He almost seemed embarrassed. Don’t know why, it’s his house, he can do as he pleases. Heck, I’d have given her coffee, breakfast, whatever.
This is another one of those areas I’m considering none of my business, though. If he was going to be embarrassed, when he heard me in the kitchen he could have just seen her out the front door. How silly. I can’t stop chuckling. He really IS a kid, living in a big boy’s world.
Eh, at least he had a laugh out of it. Maybe he even has a sense of humor, that would be a plus.
Geez-us, the bed looks like World War Three and a half. I’ll bet. Well, I was going to turn the mattress today anyway.
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© 2003 Chandrah, Inc.
© 2003 (*> Baby Bird Productions, Inc.
