Life is fluid, ever evolving. The more dynamic you are, the more happens in your life, all the time.
Lidia and I had just sat down in her apartment, waiting for our clothes to finish at the nearby laundromat, when the front door buzzer went off. Lidia sprang up to answer it. I was mildly disappointed when she let whoever was on the outside in, since it probably meant that I'd have to behave instead of flirting shamelessly with her.
It turned out to be Caryn, the housekeeper from the motel where I was spending the summer.
"I thought you'd be working today," I greeted her.
"I got done early and Elena was happy to have me go. Besides, it's my birthday--that makes me princess for a day," she added, waggling her shoulders like a fashion model and arching her neck in some kind of wild princess pose, cracking Lidia and I up.
Lidia had already served the two of us a pitcher of homemade lemonade, so she busied herself getting Caryn a glass with some ice.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Lids and I are still study buddies, you doofus. She wants me to check her Econ homework--I took that course last semester. But maybe it's just because I'm jealous that she's getting attention from a 'stud muffin'." She air-quoted those last two words to make clear that I was more "bran muffin" in her opinion than any kind of "stud". "Maybe Auntie Krista sent me to make sure you didn't get into any
more
trouble before she can get her claws into you."
This was dangerous territory. I didn't think it would be good to admit that I'd slept with Caryn--taken her virginity, in fact--to Lidia or to let on that I'd been "in trouble" with someone else. Lidia and I had been cultivating a crush on one-another and it was pretty clear that the two of us were at the stage where we're both thinking about whether to act on our attraction.
Although, to be honest, part of me was thinking maybe I should avoid taking that step. Somewhere out in the world my older lover Selena was pregnant with my child. And Sara, whom I'd hooked up with over a month ago, was in that Schoedinger's Cat state--she might be pregnant; she might not be. My subconscious mind was having a field day inserting her into my dreams in every possible state. I might feel like I was still a single guy looking for a steady girlfriend. But I was probably "damaged goods" and should be looking to rein in further complications.
Instead of embarrassing me, though, Caryn turned to other topics and had the three of us chit-chatting, until it was time to move the loads of clothes to the dryer. Lidia and I did rock-paper-scissors and she lost, so she went off to manage the task.
That left me with Caryn.
"So, are you dating anyone new?" I asked.
"No, but you've been busy. I'm sure you're sorry Imaginary Dog Lady left." She meant Selena.
"Her friend passed and that's the only reason she was here. It was fun while it lasted," I said, trying to put a brave face on it. My heart still ached from her suddenly going. I didn't know how I felt about potential fatherhood with her. It was, quite honestly, weird.
We both sipped our lemonades for a minute.
"You ever think about me?" she asked.
I laughed. "I think about you all the time, but you've made it clear you're not interested, and, well I've been busy--uh, with school and stuff." I had this rueful look, I'm sure.
"Oh, I'm always
interested
, at least on a physical level. But I have got to be careful. It's just too risky." She paused.
"The other thing is, well... Auntie Krista has been kind of a mom to me, since my folks are kind of flakes. And, well, I kind of confessed everything to her and it really bummed her out. Not that she said that. She was happy for me, especially since I threw that useless turd Jimmy over afterwards. But she kind of has the hots for you and there I am in the way."
"Wow. I don't know what to say? She's a lot older and not my typical type, I guess. But, well, I'm not sure what you're saying. Do you want to give dating a try? Or are you trying to set me up with her?" I laughed while she bounced her head side-to-side. She opened her mouth to respond and that's the precise moment Lidia barged back into the apartment. I let them talk Economics while I tried to take in a chapter of
Nostromo
. Then it was time to go fold laundry.
Lidia had, as usual, hogged all four dryers in the laundromat: three for her roommates and one that she and I shared. While she folded for the roomies, I folded and separated our two loads. Caryn watched but didn't help either of us.
She did, however, dish out abuse.
"Lids, I can see I can't trust you with him. He's got his hands in your panties." I guiltily held up a shockingly tiny black lacy pair that I was adding to Lidia's pile, blushing furiously.
... the computer models are very good a solving equations of fluid dynamics but very bad at describing the real world. The real world is full of things like clouds and vegetation and soil and dust which the models describe very poorly.
~ Freeman Dyson
July makes for hot days and hotter nights. Even with air conditioning, my room was no refuge and the undercounter refrigerator was not up to keeping my beverages truly cold. Wanting to keep my refreshments cool, I went to get a bucket of ice from the machine, only to be disappointed: water poured down into the back of the bin, leaving a frothy lake in the bottom where there should be ice. Being a good Samaritan, I went to report it to Krista, the night manager.
Krista was somewhat older than her cousin Caryn and a very different animal indeed. She was tanned brown as a nutmeg all over and tonight she was wearing trailer park chic--a beadazzled tank top that shows lots of sideboob and underboob (save for her robust black bra) and multi-colored eye makeup. The eyes were super-distracting. The effect was more dragonfly than butterfly wings, almost reptilian in nature, especially under the heavily managed and redrawn eyebrows.
"What's up, Cal? Something a gal can help you with?" Her eyes examined me like a prize steer. I'd been avoiding her even harder since Caryn's confession. In part this was due to my fooling around with Caryn, but in part it was because she made clear that she would not mind getting to know me better.
The motel office was tiny with faux wood grain Formica, green industrial carpet, and a two-thirds empty brochure stand offering local attractions. The air conditioner was blasting full tilt, like stepping into a meat locker. There was a fake stuffed bass (non-singing variety) and a cuckoo clock, in nod to a half-hearted "chalet" theme. The back of the office opened into her residence. At that moment this was a dark smoky room dominated by a big table and chairs set up for poker. A number of mature women from the Big and Tall section of the catalog were milling about, although I briefly glimpsed Caryn with a glass tumbler in her hand. I shivered in the frosty A/C.
"I think the ice machine is busted," I offered, feeling slightly lame.
