wasn’t very much furniture. And there was absolutely nothing personalizing the place. No pictures. No decor.
A couch. A couple of recliners. There was a TV tray sitting in front of the couch, and it had a plate sitting on it. The plate was dirty.
There was also a bottle of beer sitting on the floor by the couch that she assumed was empty.
She followed him into the kitchen, and he pulled a Styrofoam carton out of the fridge and popped it in the microwave.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to microwave Styrofoam,” she pointed out.
“Says who?”
“The surgeon general, I think. It’s bad for you.”
“Everything fun is bad for you.”
“You think that microwaving Styrofoam is fun? I thought my bar for fun was low.”
“You know what I mean,” he said, casting her a baleful look before pulling the Styrofoam container back out of the microwave and opening it up. Steam came off of the hamburger and the french fries that were inside.
“French fries in the microwave.” She pulled a face.
“I didn’t invite you in for you to pass judgment on my dinner. Why don’t you just tell me about your home-improvement issues?”
“Oh,” she said. “Well.”
He took a beer out of the fridge, and held it out toward her. “Want one?”
“No, thank you,” she said crisply.
“Sorry. I’m fresh out of apple juice.” He took the beer for himself and closed the fridge. Then he wandered into the living room as if she wasn’t there, put the Styrofoam container over the top of the dirty plate and sat down on the couch.
“You’re taking this bachelor thing very seriously,” she said.
“I am,” he said. “That’s the beauty of divorce.”
For some reason, her eyes went straight to his left hand. As if she was looking for a tan line or some evidence that his marriage had existed. She had a hard time imagining him married.
You don’t know him.
“I’ve been divorced for four years,” he said. “It’s just that I was in jail for most of that. I told you. I was exonerated.”
There was clearly a story there, but while she waffled over if she was supposed to ask about it, or if she was supposed to pretend there was nothing to the statement, he moved on.
“Tell me about your list.”
She was a little bit relieved that he had moved past the point where she could ask him about his wife. Because for a moment curiosity had almost overrode her typical caution when it came to asking people about their pasts. Because if she asked, then they did. And her story was nothing if not one giant bummer.
It wasn’t that she was resistant to talking about it necessarily.
It had been seventeen years since her parents had died. In many ways it was part of her past in the same way the broken arm she had gotten falling out of a tree when she was six years old was part of her past. Part of what had made her who she was today, some of which had left scars.
But, it did tend to make people uncomfortable.
“I need a new garbage disposal,” she said, launching into the list as he had asked, and by the time she was finished, he was staring at her.
“Okay,” he said.
“That’s it?”
“If you need those things, you need them. They call these kinds of things investment properties for a reason, I guess. I have to invest.”
“Well,” she said. “Thank you. Dave was pretty resistant to the whole thing, in part because he was selling.”
“Yeah, and he didn’t mention anything to me about those improvements that were needed. But, I did get a pretty good deal on the place, all up. The huge excess of money I used to have is gone. Honest truth. But I got a decent chunk selling my McMansion. So, I was able to buy this place, and get set up to invest in cattle. Plus live.” He gestured at the burger, as if that was an indication of the living that he was doing. “I mean so I’m doing fine. But you know I used to be... Well all that was extra anyway.”
“Oh,” she said, not really sure what to say to any of that. He was looking at her. Those eyes like lasers. Cold and blue and bright. But they made her insides feel anything but cold.
She suddenly wished that she still had her flak jacket on, because she felt very exposed standing in front of him wearing only a T-shirt, and for some reason her breasts felt heavy. She