"Roommate to share a two-bedroom Chicago gold coast condo. Please reply by email with resume and references. Rent negotiable."
Jim answered the Craigslist ad. His lease was up. He thought a change would be good. A new place might get him out of his rut. He rarely left his Humboldt Park apartment except for work and groceries. Living with someone might alter his morose attitude.
It was unusual for him to take action like this, to make a change in his life. Normally, he went about his day without plan or purpose. The highlight of his week was always a moment he could help someone out. He likes Chicago winters because it presented the opportunity to help push a car out of a snow bank.
But feeling good didn't drive him to make a change in his life. No, it was the insistent, nagging dread of meaninglessness. He saw her ad because he read Craigslist for entertainment. He read Craigslist personals for something to do; it gave him an insight into people who had lives.
He sent his one-page resume, such as it was. The interview was brief, ten minutes on a Saturday morning. He met her in a law office in the loop. Jennifer Kendall was trim, tall, attractive and purposeful. Her efficient demeanor was consistent with her position as a fourth-year associate in a large multinational law firm.
He was not entirely clear why she chose him. First of all, he's two decades older than she. Second, he's not in her class: she, a high-power attorney, he, a warehouse manager. He didn't even own a suit.
Women, especially like her, never notice him. And he is not comfortable in a room of men attractive to her. Still, he moved in the first of the following month. She made the rent affordable on his salary. "What the heck?" he thought.
Six days a week, she woke very early, went to the health club in the building and returned for a shower and light breakfast. She took the bus to the loop arriving at her office before 7:00. Most evenings she was in bed at 9:00. He accommodated his life to her schedule. The third morning he made coffee while she was in the shower. She smiled when she appeared in the kitchen and accepted the mug from his hand. He liked the smile. To him it meant he had been helpful. He liked being helpful.
He took to preparing her granola, yogurt and dried fruit breakfast. Somehow it didn't seem right to simply put the cartons out on the kitchen island, so he served each in a Polish pottery bowl with a spoon for her to assemble as she desired.
While wandering around Woodfield Shopping Center on a Sunday morning, he found the Polish pottery set. The blue of the decoration reminded him of her eyes, her intensely blue eyes. Sometimes he had to look away. The intensity of her eyes, he thought, would make her intimidating at depositions.
He purchased an insulated carafe for her coffee. She sometimes liked to add cream. He kept a small pitcher in the refrigerator so it would stay cold. Each of these extras he added one at a time, as he thought of them.
It felt right to please her, to be helpful. He found he liked making things right. He stepped out of his negative attitude by thinking of small things he might do for her. Her smile encouraged him. Life was better, living with her. He did well in this move, even if his commute was longer. Things at work seemed to pick up as well. He was happy.
Their little morning ritual began when she walked into the kitchen, fresh from her shower, dressed for the office. He'd hand her the mug. She would smile. A gentle "Good morning" from her was the perfect start to his day. He would then leave her to her thoughts and preparations for the day.
After his shower, he put her dishes in the dishwasher and drove to his warehouse management job. He needed to be at work at 9:00, so there was plenty of time. He liked the physical act of cleaning up after her. She deserved it. She worked hard. He could see she would be an important attorney.
He parked in her spot in the building. She didn't need a car. Once in a while, when she had an errand to run on a weekend, he would drive her to her destination and wait for her to return. Waiting was easier than finding a parking space on the street. He didn't mind.
He appreciated being near her. It was clearly stated there would be no sexual connection between them. She set the boundaries and he respected them. In his early twenties he might have imagined a relationship would blossom. But years have gone by. He had a good job, nothing like hers, but still with decent pay. He was going nowhere special. He went to work each day and back home. He had not gone on an actual date in years. No one was interested. He accepted that.
