Ahhh, summer. At time when hormones rage as tanned, trim bodies walk about partially bare and it is comfortable to be out at night. Summer romances are usually an indulgence, plain old fashioned fun when we “hook up” (to use a current term) with someone who may not be commitment material for the sheer pleasure of it.
I met H2 (that would be “Husband number 2 for you newbees) on a steamy hot August night but first a little background…
I was in my 30’s, divorced with a 5 year old and working on a Master’s degree in hopes of having a decent career with the same days off as my son. I was in school in one town, H1 and our son lived in another town about 5 hours away driving time and every other weekend I met my boy in a third town where my sister graciously let us stay at her home. My friend, “H” thought it would be nice for me to meet his neighbor, an unemployed artist who had just been dumped by his girlfriend and just finished a six week stint in a University Hospital participating in a research drug study. When I asked H why he thought this was a good idea he said, “ I just think you guys would like each other.”
The “artist” part of this guy’s description interested me. So H offered to take me down the street to see some of his work. “The front door is always open,” H said. “They never lock the door.” In the city? Hmmmm.
No one was home so we just went right in and took a tour of the house. It was filthy beyond imagination. Four bachelors lived in this what was once a lovely Victorian row house. It was now a ruin. The floor was an inch deep in dog hair, yard sized trash bags were overflowing with smelly garbage in the kitchen, dirty dishes spilling out of the sink- absolutely disgusting!
But all over the house were these interesting sculptures and installations. A toy solider TV cabinet in the living room. A table set for dinner for four with fake food and everything was bolted to the ceiling in the kitchen as though someone had been dining upside down. A chaise lounge that looked like a wedge of Swiss Cheese. This guy had a great sense of humor, whimsy and talent.
His bedroom was a disaster area. His fuzzy mutt obviously considered his bed her own as the tossed salad of sheets were markedly dirty and loaded with dog golden dog hair.
There was stuff piled everywhere, close littered the floor and his bathroom had not been cleaned for at least four months. But there were stacks of art books and some beautiful pieces of furniture he had made including a glass topped table with a wooden stand shaped like an hour glass, a floor lamp with a slatted wooden shade, a wooden sconce and a gorgeous keepsake box with a trick handle.
I turned to H and said, “Please don’t introduce me to this man because he is just the kind of man I need to avoid and I would fall in love with him.”
H, though disappointed, respected my wishes and resisted playing match- maker but fate would have things differently.
to be continued…
Painting by Micci Cohan – offers the impression of H2’s bedroom before we started dating.