When our youngest graduated the room over the garage was available again. It was home for three of our children while they completed collage. It was almost strange to see it vacant. My husband wanted to use it for storage. It seemed to be a good idea at the time, until George hurt his back and was forced into early retirement. That's when the bills started piling up, mostly medical, and the only logical thing was to put the room up for rent and much needed income.
Several inquired for the room but in the end, we agreed upon a young college student name Dave. He was in his final year and needed a place away from the maddening dorm life where he could focus on writing his career Thesis.
Dave settled in quick and was soon like a second son to us. He was a big help when George reinjured his back and was hospitalized for two weeks and rehab for three weeks after. It also became the period of major change and secrets.
I was so stressed between work and home and worried about George's condition. I needed a break or something to just calm my nerves. Dave offered me a joint. He said it helped him during a many late night, studying for test and not to mention the personal problems between home and relationships.
"Doesn't that inhibit thinking and decision-making?"
"If you take enough. But that's any recreational substance. Otherwise it's a harmless relaxer."
He told me to save the joint for later and offered to share his bong. He said the device was design for quality and maximum results. We smoked a sweet tasting weed from his pipe. A few minutes later we were buzzed. I found myself babbling or rather complaining about my life, troubles and husband.
