Her face arranged into a sneer. “I have to earn my keep, Ben.”
“Let’s worry about that later. Right now, I’m going to help you pack up and we’re moving your stuff into my place. Okay?”
She looked at her crossed ankles in her lap. “I hate this,” shemumbled. I sat next to her and put my arm around her.
“I know, hon. Show me what’s yours and I’ll carry it to your room. Then we can order some nasty takeout. Sound good?”
She sniffed and rubbed her fingers under her eyes. “Alright.”
* * *
Jessie had been living with me since Cole broke up with her, and it was Wednesday. She usually came home before I did and shut herself in her room. I knocked at her door sometimes when I heard her crying, but she either pretended not to hear it or to be asleep. But I knew she’d been awake because she’d pop out to use the bathroom.
Sunday night, after we moved her stuff in there, blew up her air mattress, and got her settled, she claimed she wasn’t hungry.
Monday and Tuesday, she got home from work and disappeared into her room. She claimed she ate on her way home. Through the door. She wouldn’t even open the door for me.
I was about five seconds from demanding she eat with me like the Beast in Beauty and the Beast.
Wednesday, I was clear to play again, but we didn’t have a game. I cooked dinner, making enough for two. Nothing fancy, just tacos. It was actually Valentine’s Day, but I didn’t know how to handle her feelings around that. Was she depressed? Would she accept roommate flowers? Better to ignore it altogether. I even planned to make a joke to her about it being Taco Wednesday if she came out of her room.
I perked up at the sound of her bedroom door. She shuffled through the kitchen with her head down and her phone in her hand.
“Hey, Jess,” I tried.
“Hey. I’m going to talk to Cole.”
“Oh. Cool. Um, good luck, I guess?”
She gave a weak smile, then stalled at the front door like sherealized she should say something else. “Work okay for you? You get to go back yet?”
“Yeah, yeah. Shoulder’s doing a little better.”
“Good.”
“Everything okay for you?” I spooned up some of the taco meat I was stirring. “Hungry?”
“I ate on the way home.” Then with her hand on the doorknob and a wry smile, she said, “Don’t wait up for me, Daddy.”
And then she was gone. Why was I relieved that she had a two-minute conversation with me? And why did I like it so much when she called me Daddy, even if it was a joke? I heard Cole greet her, his tone sounding flat.
Their voices grew faint. I’m sure she knew that I could hear them and they went deeper into the apartment. I can’t not be nosy, so I cracked open the window hoping to hear more. I had the TV on and muted, so I could quickly pretend like I wasn’t being absolutely invasive.
I was desperate for any scrap of her because honestly, I was worried about her. She was crying alone in her room and wouldn’t let me in. I suspected she wasn’t eating.
I fell asleep on the couch absolutely 100% waiting up for her. I wanted to be there when she got home. I startled awake when she came in. She went straight for the freezer.
“Lookin’ for something?” I asked.
“Do you have ice cream?”
“Sorry. Lactose issues,” I said. “Makes my tummy upset.”
She muttered something. “Goodnight, Mikey.”
“Jessie, wait.”
She turned in the hallway, looking back at me with a sadness that was deeper than tears, bigger than just getting dumped. Or at least, I thought. I’d never been dumped. I didn’t know how big that could feel.
