There was this woman I worked for from time to time. She knew my deceased mother and so even though she always called me with pain in the ass type of jobs, I would dutifully show up and take care of whatever she needed. Mrs. Kramer was getting old now and was reluctant to make big changes so I was always patching up her home with duct tape so to speak.
One day, as I was leaving, she mentioned to me her daughter Denise needed some touch up work done at her home nearby. I rolled my eyes to myself. "Oh great. Just what I need. More pain in the ass work!" But, what the hell, I agreed to go over to her daughter's house Saturday morning.
"She belongs to a biking club and they always ride Saturday mornings." She advised me.
When I got to Denise's house that Saturday I seemed to get a deja vu sensation. I'd been at this house before. I even sort of recognized Denise when she opened the door. Late forties, decent figure and kinda pretty. She told me I'd been there six years prior to look at her kitchen which was definitely in need of repair or replacement even then. Now it was a disaster. Holes in the hollow core cabinet doors, hinges broken or missing. Aged golden oak stain.
Denise was really friendly and apologized for dragging me out to look at his mess. Turned out she was divorced now and her grown son was graduating from college and planning to come back to Los Angeles to live with her until he got started working in his field. Problem was her ex husband wanted to sell the house and have his son live with him instead.
"He says I've messed up the property and he needs me to get it fixed up to sell." She admitted. This house must have been built in 1960 or so and hell yes! it needed work. I told Denise it wasn't all her fault, After all, any house built that long ago would need a lot of work. We continued to chat as she took me through the house which revealed a lot of old and worn out doors, floors, light fixtures and so on.
I shook my head. "Denise, where do you go if he sells the house?" She lowered her eyes.
"I...I don't really know. He's been letting me live here at reduced rent for three years now and he insists he owes me nothing." She continued to avoid my gaze.
I explained that it would seem to me that it would make sense for him to spend some money to fix up the house and then sell or rent it. Of course, both options would leave Denise out in the cold. I suggested he spend the dough to fix up the house and then have his son live here and add something to the rent every month. His son would have a place to live and so would his mother. A win win situation!
Again Denise avoided my gaze. "He's...still bitter about our divorce." was all she could muster up to say in response.
It was totally none of my business but I couldn't help but ask. "What was the problem?" They'd been married 13 years and had a son together. Now, after 8 years, he was still pissed enough to basically put her out on the street. There was a long pause. Finally, Denise spoke.
Ron wanted to do stuff. In bed. Stuff I wasn't comfortable with." She said quietly. Then she finally looked up at me. "Jeff I never refused to, you know, have sex! But, well, he wanted more and I tried to explain to him that I wasn't that kind of girl. I know it sounds old fashioned and silly but..."
"Oh, so he wanted you to have sex with a group of bikers while he videotaped the whole thing?" I asked with a smile on my face.
She understood my humor and smiled back.
"No. Nothing like that but...um...well, he wanted oral." She reluctantly admitted. "Hell, any guy would want that Denise." I smiled. "I don't think that's really..."
"I'm sorry. I know men expect that sort of stuff nowadays but, well, he knew what kind of girl I was when he married me!" She insisted.
I looked at the attractive divorcee and wished there was a simple solution to her problem. I was really in no position to be giving advice on such a personal issue but apparently there wasn't anyone else helping out so...