The Last Thing I Expected

Otherwise known as... So Far Beyond Crummy...

Last Saturday morning I participated in my first half marathon as part of Disney's Marathon Weekend.  It was an AMAZING experience, and was written about in 13.1 Because I'm Only Half Crazy Part 1 and Part 2. After we finished the race, Linette and I went back to our hotel room to get fresh and lovely before our celebratory lunch.  When I got out of the shower, there was a text from Chuck telling me that he had been doing laundry and my cat got out into the front yard and she wouldn't come to him.  You need to take care of this.  There was an obvious tone to his text.  I was a bit flummoxed.

On Thursday when I popped by the house between appointments with my mother, Chuck had been sitting on the couch with his computer.  He told me that my friend Jack wasn't welcome in his house again.  That on Tuesday at the post-funeral gathering Jack had been loud and obnoxious and arrogant and inappropriate. 

Jack had stayed until midnight.  I will concede that he was a bit loud, and he was being a jokester, but I knew that his purpose was to provide levity in a difficult situation.  I was okay with Jack being Jack.  He also had his arm around me and was doing a really good job of being the shoulder I needed in GDA's stead.  I had performed my duties to the best of my ability from the moment my father passed until that moment.  It was very nice to feel like I was being taken care of, rather than running the show.  Chuck said that while he was in his bedroom, he had overheard Jack make a disparaging remark about truckers. 

Look, I didn't hear Jack say anything about truck drivers or you, but this is your house and I respect your wishes. 

I popped by on Friday in between appointments with my mother to grab my race clothes.  Chuck didn't even come out of his bedroom. 

I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know how wrong.  I knew that the week had been hard.  It was more than hard, it was downright awful, but I was doing everything I could just to survive.  The night my father died, Chuck came out of his room and held me while I cried, and he sat with me while I drank a glass of wine before bed to calm my nerves.

The next day, after helping Mom and Sis plan the funeral arrangements, I came home and asked Chuck if it would be okay if we had the post-funeral gathering at his place because it's so much bigger than my mom's house.  Sure, Jen, whatever you need.  He offered the spare bedroom for out-of-town guests.  Life became consumed by organizing food donations, flower orders, and phone calls to folks near and far explaining what had happened to my dad. 

On Sunday Aunt A. and Uncle B. arrived from Atlanta, as well as other family members who would be staying with Mom, her neighbor, and in local hotels.  I organized a family dinner that evening for everyone who was in town at our house.  One of my colleagues had given me a large tray of lasagne and bread.  It was the first time ever that we had had a large gathering without my dad, and it felt very strange.  Chuck's fridge and freezer were stuffed to capacity with food, as was our neighbor's fridge, and my friend Jess's refrigerator. 

It takes a village.

As written in Ghosts of Boyfriends Past, Monday night Jack and Joe came over after the viewing.  We traded stories and drank a couple glasses of wine.  Aunt A. sat at the table with us and cross-stitched.  Chuck came out and chatted with us a bit as well.

At least fifty friends and family members came to the house for the gathering after Dad's service.  That evening, friends and a few family members washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen.  When I woke up the next morning, there were half-drunk two liters and a couple bottles of wine on the kitchen bar, as well as stacks of clean pans that needed to be dealt with, but other than that I thought everything looked okay.  Yes, the floor would have to be cleaned after everyone wore shoes in the house, but you know, Mom was my priority.  Wednesday morning I had to go to a big breakfast at my mom's before all of the out-of-town guests took their leave and returned to their lives.  My intention was to come home later and clean up a bit more, but I didn't think it was awful.

I guess I was wrong.

When I came by that afternoon with Mom, Chuck had given all of the soda to my sister as well as quite a bit of the food.  I took more food out of the fridge to make more room for Chuck.  I knew that it hadn't been easy for him having everything so full. 

It wasn't easy for me, either. 

I told Chuck that I needed to stay with mom for a couple of days and asked if he minded feeding Aiko-chan.  No problem, Jen.  Aiko's cool.

My friends had told me that I needed to let people do things for me that week, because I couldn't do it all myself.  I thought that Chuck was a part of that.  We had been great roommates for six months.  Talking together, occasionally cooking, he gave me clothing advice (especially shoes), and really, he was the big brother I never had.  

So, on Saturday afternoon when he sent me the perturbed email about Aiko-chan, I was distressed.  I wrote back, I just finished running.  Did you know today was my race?

I got her, we need to talk.

We needed to talk???  Linette and I talked about it, and I was upset.  Chuck managed to expel the joy and exhilaration I had felt from running a half marathon after the challenges that I had overcome that week.  Doesn't he understand how hard this week was for me? 

Maybe he just wants to talk, Jen.  You haven't had any time alone together in a week.

We weren't a couple, but we did check in with each other from time to time to make sure our living arrangement was still suitable for both of us.  The last time we checked in was just before Christmas, and yeah, everything was peachy. 

After Linette and I had lunch, I went home to face the music.  As soon as I sat down at the table, Chuck, not meeting my gaze, said, This isn't working out, Jen.  I know you've paid up through the end of next week, and you are welcome to day until the end of the month, but the sooner you can get out the better.

Chuck, I just need to understand.  Everything was fine until this week.  I buried my dad this week.  My mom was my priority, and I was just trying to SURVIVE.  I know it was hard, but it was just one week!

Jen, you took advantage of my niceness, and I'd like to stay your friend, and I'd rather not give you specifics.

I need to know why this is happening.  How did I take advantage?

Okay, you left the house a mess after the gathering on Tuesday night.  You had people traipsing in and out of here all week.  Your cat has been waking me up meowing at 5:30 in the morning.

Okay-- you want me out, I'm OUT.  
 
What kind of a human being does that to someone the week they've buried their father?

I knew that the house wasn't looking its best, but it wasn't horrible, and you know, I thought that Chuck got that my time wasn't my own... but I guess he didn't.  I knew it had been a very difficult week, but I thought that I had earned enough currency with Chuck that one hard week wouldn't dissolve our beautiful roommate relationship.

I was wrong.

I packed as many of my clothes as I could that day, and returned at 10:00 the next morning with Kelly and Jack to pack up the rest of my things.  It took us 2 1/2 hours.  I left my key on the kitchen counter, and we drove to my mom's, unpacked most of the boxes, and then I drove to my storage unit to drop off the rest.  I spent the rest of the day organizing, and took Monday off as well, because I couldn't stand for my mother's house to be full of boxes.  It needed to be orderly... there was already enough transition happening here already.  By Monday evening I had dealt with the boxes, and the space felt relatively normal, aside from the glaring absence of my father's presence.  I should say, physical presence... he is still very much around us here. 

Mom is happy to have the company, and I've told her it's probably only going to be until summer.  Before my living situation changed we had already talked about me coming here twice a week to cook for her, and honestly, now rather than dividing my time between my place, my mom's, and GDA's... I only need to divide my time in two places, which is probably going to be easier for me.

The way it happened, though, is so far beyond crummy I cannot use a word that is strong enough for my rated G blog.  A couple of days ago Linette went by Chuck's place to get my mail for me.  He came home while she was getting the mail, and they talked for a moment.  I asked Linette what he said, and this is his version:  Yeah, I have no hard feelings.  We were just talking and she said she was moving out.  The next day she was gone.

That is NOT what happened!

Now that the experience has been written about, I think I can truly move on.  My friends are angry about the way Chuck treated me, but we all agree that this is the best place for me to be right now anyway.  Mom and I need each other. 

You think you know someone... then they throw you a curveball.

And now dear readers, you know.... the rest of the story.