Torsade Literary Space The Resident (part twenty-six)
Chapter Four
An Odd Man Out
(part twenty-six)
John had parents. They were divorced. His father did arrive at holidays, and might.
He wanted to be normal in Claudie’s eyes.
Come to my house. I mean, not my house, my mother’s. But I’ll pick you up, if you tell me where you live.
I’m wondering if I should.
No, no, please. I never meant to misread you. No, no, I don’t really even…
Celebrate. While blathering, John discovered Claudie talking. He shut himself up, literally by stepping on his own foot. Someone didn’t want her to give her address or invite people over. But did their rule make sense? Because she had this weird little place over a gas station, with back stairs. Who was even peeping, literally [he suspected the source of his new habit] the stairs were up against an alley fence with trash bins…?
“Is that safe?”
“Trash bins?”
“It just sounds…but I don’t want to say…slummy…” You’re beautiful, and you dress like a magazine model, and why…?
“Slummy? I never heard that word. I love having an apartment! But why don’t you pick me up at…right here? I’ll walk, and I’ll wait right here.” She pointed to his parking spot.
He forced out words, rhyming, a mortifying tic, “Whatever you’d rather. But you’ll have to give me your phone number.”
She dug, and muttered, writing: “Phones. They’re so crazy.”
So Claudie. He knew her takes by now.
He drove her past the sign, and she remarked—people did—on Oathbreach. Is that a business? Is oathbreach a word?
“To pledge something and go back.”
“Break your promise. What do they do, then? The opposite of wedding planning?”
“Yes. No. It’s a kind of venue, I mean… Have weddings. Maybe Mom would like us to go there…” He found the idea stupid, midsentence. His mother had baked; she had a turkey breast braising in a casserole dish. She didn’t even know she had a guest.
“What, get married?”
“For Christmas. Oathbreach does a holiday buffet.”
Serious, Claudie said, “It’s still too early. But I would marry you after we’ve been friends for a year.”
“John, do you have someone with you?” His mother opened the door, in her standing-in-the-gap fashion.
“Claudine.” He nudged. “I don’t know a last name for her.”
“I never picked one,” Claudie said.
“Did you bring something…? No, that’s fine. I’m Gina Rancilton.”
The house was cold and smelled wonderful. But Claudie took the living room sofa, smiling, blank as to turkey and pie, bakery croissants, and corn souffle. Thin portions, if Dad arrived—and the knock at the door, to the tune of “Goobers and Raisinets” from the movies, and the heavy panting of a Great Dane heard through the sidelight, said he had.
“Let yourself in!” John’s mother yelled, passing.
And, “Let me see if I can get everything on the table”, with a stare at the couple on the sofa.
39
An Odd Man Out
The Resident (part twenty-seven)
(2025, Stephanie Foster)