Damaged my belongings? What does that mean?
“She, uh, cut up some of your things.”
“She cut up my things?” I’m doing my best to remember what I left there. I had a lot of clothes lying about, but I think I took all the good stuff. The stuff that still fits. Instead of calling them back, I send my dad a text.
Me:How long was she in the basement?
Dad:Thirty minutes, maybe.
Long enough to do some real damage.
Me:Where is she now?
He responds immediately.
Dad:Gone. She drove back to the city.
I want to ask how bad it is, but really, I don’t want to know. I wait an extra-long time before I finally respond.
Me:Why would she do that?
Dad:She was upset.
Me:Jesus, Dad. I’ve been upset plenty of times but I don’t go around destroying people’s things. She sounds psycho.
There’s no response, so I text again.
Me:Dad?
Dad:LOL. No need to worry. She calmed down by the time she left. She and Mom had tea together. According to Mom, Gisele was just tired.
Me:Tired? Yeah, after ruining my stuff. I bet she was tired.
Dad:Nothing to worry about.
Me:I think you and Mom only see Gisele through rose-colored glasses.
Dad:That could be, but she assured us she was going home to take a hot shower, then head to work.
Oh, shit. The office. I’d better warn Billy. I select his Billy’s number and type:
Me:Is Gisele at work yet?
Billy:Haven’t seen her, but she works on another floor. I’ll check.
Me:No! Don’t make yourself known.
Billy:I can check without her knowing.
Me:If you say so.
Billy:I say so. Speaking of which. What are you wearing?
Me:Speaking of which? That was so not a good transition. I’m still in my pj’s.
Billy:You’d better start getting ready. I’m picking you up in four hours.
Me:How long do you think it takes me to get ready?
