I sat there on the somewhat uncomfortable bed, trying to figure out how to get her to take me over to Stacy’s house. Since my car broke down a week ago, I wasn’t able to go myself, and she’d have to take me. But Mary did not like her at all. Not one bit. I’d asked her earlier in the week, and she had said, “Why?” I couldn’t think of anything to text back.
You see, Stacy’s my ex girlfriend. We were together for about 4 years, before breaking it off last month. Mary is my ex-wife and best friend. I don’t need to go into specifics, as I’m guess you get the gist of what I’m saying.
I’d left a few things over at Stacy’s house: a couple of boxes of clothes, and some other things. Like I said, we’d been together for four years, and I had half moved in, just from being there all the time. She never left much at my place since we were almost always at hers. I would have to call Mary. Stacy sent me a brief, but very convincing message: get your stuff by Saturday, or I’m throwing it all out.
I pulled my beaten up cell phone out of my pocket, and called Mary. This should be fun, I thought to myself.
“Hello Jacob,” her sweet melodious voice said. “What do you want?”
“Um, yeah. Can you do me a huge favor. I need to pick up some stuff . I won’t get my car back until next Wednesday. Please tell me you don’t mind.”
“Jacob, why do you always call me for something at the last minute?” I heard her sigh out the last of her breath.
“Fine. I’ll be over in about fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
“Give me some warning next time. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Alright. See you soon.”
I hung up, and put on some pants, and a shirt. Nothing fancy just in case Stacy decided to throw something at me. Something that can squish. I had left the lights off, and the little sunlight barely brightened the mood. I liked it that way. Dark and cool.
I’m outside, I got on my cell. Be right out, I replied.
I grabbed my wallet and keys, and rushed out, locking the door quickly behind me and hurrying over to Mary’s Outback.
“Hello handsome,” she said. “Ready to go?
“Yeah”
“I should have known. You want to go to her house.”
I scratched my head, not knowing what to say. My mouth, just kinda moved liked it wanted to say something.
“We’ll pick up your crap and get out of there.” When I still didn’t say anything she said, “I’m your ex-wife, remember? I know you very well, Mr. Peterson.”
The drive was rather quiet. She didn’t ask me much more, and I didn’t offer any explanations or other words. We pulled up to the old house, the paint peeling. Stacy’s mother’s house, and now Stacy’s. The paver walkway seemed longer than it did last time I was here. Mary pushed me gently, but didn’t turn off the car. I’d have to do this alone.
I got out, hesitant, and made my way to the familiar door, and knocked. Stacy answered after a heart-stopping minute, in her bathrobe. Her silk bathrobe. She was quite striking with her dark hair, and some would say beautiful. I certainly would.
“Jacob,” she said. “Get you shit and leave.” She pointed to the three boxes by the door. “Oh,” she said, as if she just remembered—like she had always done—, “Give my regards to Mary, and her friend, April. Honestly, you couldn’t have picked better people.” She walked away leaving me standing there. I gathered all the boxes at once, and left without looking back. Mary had been right about her from the start. So had all my friends. I said three words to Mary on the way back to my home. I am sorry.
Writerly Words 