For the past 5 years Katie and I have been dating on and off. We met during our senior year of high school and after a failed attempt at college on each of our parts, we both kind of settled into each other, trying to latch onto some semblance normalcy in our early 20's Gen X malaise.
By the time we had each hit 23, Katie and I were both steadily coming to the realization we were right for each other. Marriage was something however that neither of us really wanted to give any serious thought to.
My folks had split when I was 4 and the tension between them had festered nastily during my entire childhood.
Katie had come from a slightly more stable home life, but after she had finished school her parents seemed to drift further and further apart since they didn't have to go through the charade of staying together "for the children" anymore.
Having seen the 'joys' of marital bliss directly, neither Katie and I had the suicidal tendencies to jump into that kind of morbid commitment.
Still, for financial and libidinal reasons, Katie and I decided it would be better if we got a small place and lived together.
Katie's parents, Bob and Sylvia, were both staunch Christians and to no one's surprise, they hit the roof when they found out Katie's intentions of shacking up with me.
Even though their marriage was slowly going downhill, her parents did everything but threaten to bring in the police when they found out we would be getting an apartment. I had to take countless calls from both Sylvia and Bob, sometimes pleading nicely, and other times outright threatening us with a certain place in the fiery pits of Hell if we went through with signing the lease. They seemed to think I had lured their precious daughter into the situation where she would be soiling herself by "living in sin' with me.
* * * * *
Well, after six months of 'living in sin", I would have dared anyone to think Katie and I were sharing in some sort of lifestyle that anyone would find envious.
We both worked 10 hours a day and after work we both kept up frequent nights out with our established social circles and on the rare occasion we were able to put the 'sin' in living in sin, we were both either to tired or too drunk to make it all that memorable.
About a month into our cohabitation, I found it very odd if not refreshing that the calls from Katie's folks had all but stopped.
Katie had made some offhand comments about her parents having some troubles but it wasn't until one night when she had come home drunk from barhopping with her friends and after we had a quick sexual tension release that she opened up and told me the full extent of Bob and Sylvia's problems.
It seemed Katie's Father, who also served as a deacon in his church, had finally admitted to his wife Sylvia, that he had been having an ongoing affair with a young secretary from his job. Katie said her Mother had told her that Bob had swore and swore that it was over and it wouldn't happen again.
A week later, after Katie had came to bed after being on the phone with her Mom for over three hours, she told me her Mom had left her Father and was at a motel in town trying to collect her thoughts. While doing the laundry earlier in the day, Sylvia had smelled the vague scent of a strange perfume on the dirty bed sheets. Upon further inspection, Sylvia found undeniable 'crusted' proof that a very recent affair had taken place.
Katie told me her Mom had confronted Bob immediately and her Father admitted to sleeping with the young secretary in the Hampton's marital bed on more than one occasion since his original apology.
Sylvia had immediately packed her overnight bag and headed out to get as far away from her sullied home as possible.
I felt bad for Katie to have to face this kind of dilemma but I had heard this type of story before a million times from my friends and their families while growing up. What Katie asked me next though, in the calm and quiet of our bedroom, really threw me for a loop.
"Greg.." She said sheepishly.
"Yeah," I sighed between puffs of my post sex Marlboro.
After a few seconds of Katie not responding to my initial reply, I asked her what she wanted once again. "Before I fall asleep Katie...What ..do.. you.. want!?"
"Well Greg.." she finally muttered. "I was talking to Mom on the phone tonight...and well..."
"I can't believe your asking me this Katie," I interrupted, mashing what was left of my cigarette out in the ashtray.
"You won't even let me finish.." Katie started.
"That's because I know exactly what you are going to say...and the answer is NO!" I said as firmly as I could at 2 am and half asleep.
"Come on Greg....she doesn't have anywhere else to go...all our relatives live out of state and..." She said, trying to be rationally polite and convincing.
"NO," I barked, knowing full well at some point she would win the argument. Without ever actually verbally agreeing, I laid there silently, feigning sleep, as Katie continued her inquisition.
Finally, at some point Katie had said, "Well , if you're not going to answer me, I guess I'll just have to take that as a 'Yes'."
Sleepless for the next hour or so, listening to Katie snore beside me, I wallowed in the satisfactory joy of knowing Sylvia Hampton would have to come live with us. Don't get me wrong, she's a very sweet lady in her own way and certainly didn't deserve to get treated like she had by her husband all these years, but the extreme irony of the situation was not lost on me either.
For months she had badgered Katie and I, threatening us with eternal damnation because we would be sharing a bed and a place together out of wedlock. And now she was having to beg her daughter , who in turn was having to beg me to let her Mother come live with us in our sinful home because her husband had been unfaithful to her.
Oh, how I would have to fight the urge to remind Sylvia every waking hour that marriage doesn't guarantee morality.
The first couple of days with Sylvia there living out of her suitcase was kind of weird. Since she had been a housewife her whole adult life, she had never worked out of the home. Feeling like she was sort of paying her way, Sylvia felt some level of obligation to turn the house upside down, cleaning everything, vacuuming, washing the dishes and doing Katie's and my laundry. In short , all the things Katie and I always seemed to busy to do.