It was the start of summer break before my last year of med school, when my friend, Mike called me. His sister was coming here to look for a job and she didn't have anywhere to stay. She wanted to relocate to a larger urban area, and it would probably take her a month or so to get situated. Knowing I had an empty bedroom, he was curious if she might be able to stay with me.
"Why me?" I asked. "Wait! You have a sister?"
"Yeah." He admitted. "She doesn't like me very much, always been the bratty kid sister."
"We've known one another for what...3 years, and it never came up?" I said.
"What can I say?" He shrugged. "So...?"
"Again, why me?" I pressed.
"Well." He paused. "First, she's short on funds." "Second, you're one of the few people I trust." "And third... well, to be honest, she's a bit... difficult."
"Trust?" I queried.
"We may not get along, but she is my sister." He answered. "I don't want her living with some pervert rapist."
"I'm flattered, you moron." "Difficult?" I repeated.
"Yeah." He admitted. "She speaks her mind and doesn't take shit off nobody." "She found out her last boyfriend was cheating on her and damn near beat him to death." "Did I mention, she's a redhead?"
"So why again do I want this job?" I probed. "Sounds like I might be risking my life." "Also sounds like she can handle the likes of any pervert rapists she might run across."
"You're the most level-headed guy I know." He answered. "I figure you probably won't kill her if she mouths off, and you're smart enough not to provoke her."
"You'd make a lousy car salesman." I laughed. "I appreciate the honesty."
"So..." He paused. "What do I tell her?"
"As long as she leaves me alone, I'll leave her alone." I said. "She can stay." "I don't expect her to be a hermit, but I don't have time for drama."
"You're the best, man." He gushed. "I owe you big time... but you so much as lay a finger on her, if she doesn't kill you, I will."
"No pressure there." I laughed. If she looked anything like him, he had nothing to fear.
Later that week, she showed up, her car crammed full with all her stuff.
"You RJ?" She growled.
"That's me." I answered. "Friends call me Wheels."
"RJ will do." She stated. "Can you show me my room?"
This was going well....not. At least she didn't look like Mike, she was actually quite pretty. I'd have to kid him later about one of them being adopted.
I showed her the room, and went out to carry in a load of stuff.
She brushed past me. "Don't need your help." She hissed. "Don't need anybody's help."
"Suit yourself." I spat, leaving her to unpack.
I retreated to my room to study, trying to resist the urge to strangle her and dump the body in the river.
I came out, several hours later to eat and found her sitting on the couch.
She looked up when I walked in the room. "Sorry if I was a bitch earlier." She said. "I don't like people fussing over me, truthfully, I just don't like people, and of late, they've not given me much reason to."
"I'm sure this is a big transition." I smiled. "No problem." "You'll find I'm pretty easy going."
"Well." She stated. "I should warn you, I have a hair-trigger temper." "That's why I need to move."
I looked at her, puzzled, then sat in the recliner across from the couch.
"I'm from a fairly small town, and unfortunately, my reputation has made it impossible for me to get work." She admitted. "I nearly got arrested after leaving my last job."
"Can I ask what happened, or would you rather not talk about it?" I inquired.
She sat for a moment, thinking. "Well, I'm a sound engineer, you know?" She said.
I must have looked puzzled again.
"You know, recording studio, like the big board with all the dials and switches in that 'Police' video on MTV?" She explained.
I nodded, "OK, got it."
"Well, there aren't many women in this line of work." She added. "And we get harassed constantly." "Women in music can only get ahead by giving head, or so it seems." "If one more fucking asshole touches me, I'm gonna rip off his dick and stuff it down his throat." "Let's see how he likes a mouthful of..." "Sorry, temper."
I was honestly shocked, I had no idea that was the accepted norm. "I can see how that would be upsetting."
"Well, this slimy producer just wouldn't stop pawing me and making lewd comments, so I slapped the bastard." She hissed. "My boss, the owner of the studio, told me it was my fault." "You're a woman in a man's world, what do you expect." He said. "I punched him square in the face."
"I would have liked to see that." I said, grinning broadly. "Bet he was surprised."
She paused briefly, clearly not amused by my comment. "Well, the only reason I didn't get arrested is he didn't want to admit I kicked his ass." She lamented. "But, of course, I was through there."
"And don't even get me started on my ex-boyfriend, the cheating bastard." She spat. "He had the nerve to file assault charges against me after I kicked his balls up under his chin." "Fortunately, the sheriff is a family friend and got the charges dropped."
"He sounds like a real winner." I added. "I'm sorry he hurt you."
"The really sad part is he's hung like a horse...big dick, small brain." She lamented. "Had absolutely no idea what to do with it, I don't miss him."
"Well, I'm sure you can find a place where you will be appreciated, in love and in your career." I said, trying to lighten the mood. "Not all men are assholes."
"Thanks." She blushed, tiredly. "But, I'm not optimistic." "My luck with men has been less than stellar." "I'm not even sure why I told you."
"Changing the subject." I said. "Mike didn't even tell me your name." "Until he asked if you could stay here, I didn't even know he had a sister."
"I'm not surprised." She chuckled, shaking her head. "We don't get along very well, I'm Wren." "Thanks for letting me stay here." "Sorry I'm being a bitch."
"No worries, happy to help a friend." I grinned. "I came out to get some food, you hungry?"
"Yeah, actually, I've been poking around in the kitchen." She admitted. "Hope you don't mind?"
"Make yourself at home." I smiled.
"You have way more food in there than I would have expected, especially for a guy." She stated. "You party alot or something?"
"No." I answered. "I spend most of my time either in class, or studying, don't have time to go out." "Besides, I like to cook." "Also, poor college student."
"You cook?" She asked. "Hell, Mike can't even boil water."
"My grandmother taught me." I explained. "There aren't any girls in my family, she wanted to pass on her secrets and I was the only one interested."
"You any good?" She queried. "At cooking I mean."
She blushed, embarrassed by the faux pas.
"I'd like to think so." I answered, ignoring her mistake. "I'm sure you'll get the chance to find out."
"My turn to change the subject, Mike didn't tell me what your major is." She stated. "He didn't tell me much of anything...as usual."
"I'm starting my last year of med school in the fall." I said. "Then on to internship."
"Doctor huh?" She shook her head. "Wow, wish I was that smart."
"Don't sell yourself short." I chided. "I couldn't even begin to do what you do." "I tried to play clarinet in grade school, teacher said I was too mechanical, I had no soul, so I quit."
"Ouch." She winced. "Pretty harsh."
"Is what it is." I said. "He was right, I'm too clinical."
"Still, for him to lay that on a kid." She frowned. "Truth, or not, he could have been a little more compassionate."
"Water under the bridge." I said. "I don't let it bother me."
I whipped us up a nice dinner, and we talked and got to know each other a little better.
"You got any leads?" I inquired.
"A few." She said. "But..."
"Well." I smiled. "Don't worry about it." "Things have a way of working out, even if it's not exactly like you expected."
"I hope you're right." She said, looking uncertain. "I'm kinda running out of options."
Since I cooked, Wren insisted on cleaning up. I didn't argue. Afterwards, we retired to the living room.
Wren sat on the floor in front of my stereo, looking at my music collection. "For somebody with no soul, you sure have a nice system." She giggled. "And I like your taste in music."
"Thanks." I said. "I just like what I like, sometimes I don't even know why."
Wren put on an album. "This one looks like it's seen some use." She observed.
Oh Shit! She'd picked the one album that always got to me. I usually played it when I was lonely or sad. It was guaranteed to make me cry, and today was no exception.
The third song was the one. I sat there, eyes closed, listening, tears streaming down my face. There was no way I could hide my reaction, so I didn't even try.
Wren had her back to me, so she didn't notice, at least not at first. When she turned to ask me something, she saw me.
"Oh God." She sputtered. "I'm sorry." "Do you want me to turn it off?"