There was a thud and the door sprang open with a jolt. I pulled aside the stiff scissor gate and slipped through the narrow opening. It was an old elevator in an old building that had not been renovated in decades. Usually the elevator had given me comfort with its steady old-fashioned mechanics, but today it felt like a rickety wooden rollercoaster -- unpredictable and haphazard. I spotted her door. My name had been taken off, finally. The last evidence of our brief failed experiment eradicated. Looks like Alexis had gotten something done for once, I thought slightly mockingly.
Really I had nothing to be nervous about. I was the one who had won the break-up. I know it's wrong to think that and I know that nobody
wins
a break-up, but still: everybody thinks about that stuff after they split. Firstly, I had the moral advantage of being the vulnerable and sensitive one; a victim of her moody domineering and unexplained absences. Anyone hearing how things had been between us would have exclaimed:
"oh, that is a terrible thing to do to another person! You deserve better!"
And a lot people had said that to me, over cups of coffee and bowls of snacks on my living room table. Even my mom who usually never commented my relationships called me after she learned that I was about to leave Alexis and expressed her support. Alexis had played her role -- the role of an asshole -- until the very last minute. Not answering my calls, sending passive-aggressive and short replies, not holding her part of agreements until it was absolutely unavoidable. That's how committed she was.
Yes, I had the moral victory
and
I had the material victory as well. I was moving into a new city, I had a new exciting job that looked great on paper, and I was seeing someone else. This someone was a kind, responsible, sweet person -- and a person of my own age too. And what did Alexis have? Her crappy apartment with its leaky faucets and mold-stained bathroom tiles and paper-thin walls that let every pathetic domestic squabble and broken pipe and poor choice of music leak through. Her severely obese diabetic cat whose breath smelled like an infected wound. Her job at the record store that, from what I understood, was approaching charity work by now. I heard from a mutual friend that the place was going down and the owner couldn't afford to pay employees their wages. How Alexis managed her rent these days I did not know.
Alexis did love that store though. That's probably why she still showed up whenever help was needed. I had to give that to her, she did have that sweeter side to her as well. She was like a cactus: hard and prickly on the outside, full of sweet flowing juices on the inside. That's what I used to think when we first met anyways. I could see her now with my eyes, arranging the vinyls, unpacking merchandise, mopping the floor. She was wearing that Dream Theater tour shirt and counterfeit Converse sneakers her sister bought her every year from Thailand.
But now I was getting sentimental. She probably worked for the old man because she just had nowhere else to go and she was too dumb to find a new job. She never thought things ahead. Never saved money, never was able to imagine things that weren't right in front of her face. No ambition, no drive. In her late thirties, still living the life of a broke undergrad.
I rang the bell several times. It took her forever to answer the door. When I saw her face she had that nonchalant expression, as if she had forgotten all about our appointment. "Oh yeah, the lamp. Come in." I closed the door behind me. I felt like I had reached the final level. I had arrived at the main villain's lair.
"I'm kinda surprised that you're here. You never liked that lamp."
"Well, it won't really suit my new apartment but I have a friend who would like to have it."
"That makes sense."
"I'm glad it's still here."
"You know me. I keep around all kind of junk. Still have my first girlfriend's sandwich grill and sushi set. And I don't even like grilled sandwich or sushi."
I walked behind her across the living room. Alexis was wearing a mismatch pajama with a kimono-type robe, on her feet were old slippers. She was make-up free, her hair was wrapped carelessly in a scarf. Clearly she didn't care I was coming or how I was going to see her. For her it really was just an old acquaintance coming to pick up a worthless piece of furniture. I felt oddly insulted and disappointed. I was afraid Alexis would pay attention to my appearance and think that I
did
care.
But also, there was something about her walk. Smooth, confident, intimidating. Like a lioness, or a tiger approaching its prey. That could not be hidden under the unflattering clothes. My eyes wandered at her swinging hips and I was mesmerized for a while.
We were now in the bedroom. I greeted Titan, the diabetic cat. She was affectionate as always, with no reservation or judgment. She pushed her head against my knee eagerly, begging for attention. I wasn't sure if she recognized me or if I was just another person coming in. Titan made no distinctions and was generous with her love. Unlike her mistress, I might add.
"She smells better."
"What?" Alexis was going through a box in her in closet.
"Her breath smells better."
"Yeah. Vet pulled out the bad teeth. Got money from my gran for Christmas. Cost a shitload too, I mean what a fucking rip off. I was kinda waiting the fat hairy turd to just die so I wouldn't have to pay for it, but I guess not."
Alexis always spoke crudely of Titan and often scared her guests with this banter. But I knew the aging feline meant the world to her. She had been in pain knowing she didn't have the money to get the rotting teeth fixed, as if the teeth had been in her own mouth.
Soon I was standing with the lamp in my hand, feeling slightly stupid. The thing was ugly and plain; something I had bought for my first apartment after mom took me to Ikea and promised to pay the bill. I became aware of the room around me. I gave a quick glance at the unmade bed.
Has she been having sex? Does it smell like sex in here?
"So, I hear you have a new job."
"Oh, yeah. Junior financial coordinator. I mean it's not my dream position but it's a company that's been on my radar for a long time. Could lead to something else. I mean I wanna work in the environmental division, they do a lot of work with renewable energy research. Kinda relates to my thesis which was about carbon emissions in the textile manufacturing industry."
"Cool. Good for you."
Alexis seemed bored. Her eyes gleamed drowsily. I got alarmed. I noticed the familiar urge to please her re-emerging inside me. My head was frantically searching for topics that might interest her. But Alexis was clearly waiting for me to leave so she could get on with whatever she had been doing. She might not be at a great place in her life, but she was certainly over me. And why wouldn't she be? She was an interesting person, she didn't need the things that I needed to feel herself important or validated. She didn't need anything or anyone. She was a hunter, always looking for the next source of excitement and pleasure. And I was yesterday's meal, a carcass with dry flesh stuck to the ribcage, leftovers not worth chewing.
