The Resident (part thirty-one)

Chapter Four

An Odd Man Out

(part thirty-one)

They had their bed from the apartment in a guest room. Guest rooms, so crazy (he thought in Claudie’s language), the having of these to manage. Just a mattress on the floor of their own room.

Upstairs at Penny’s, he’d waited for his wife to choose, tell him what to spend, whether he was paying for everything. She circled to the wicker, a second time. A fan-shaped headboard with this set, that matched a rocking chair, and drawer-fronts of a wooden chest. He saw the floor model had breakages, spots in its painted weave crunched by thumbs. Claudie ran her thumb along the mirror’s edge.

“Let’s get that.”

He woke, from what might have been a prayer they wouldn’t… To find they weren’t.

“I mean, look, this set is white too, and I just like it better. It’s fourteen hundred.”

John asked himself, do I have taste? Why wouldn’t I like white?

The pieces were heavy, speckled with an antiqued finish; they had glossy gold knobs, square, on the chest, the nightstand drawers, the footboard’s faux drawers.

Why…faux drawers…? “Um. My Mom has a Penny’s card. I’ll call her.”

“Really?” Gina said. “Is it nice? Will you like it? I think you can do cheaper.”

Well, a hundred a month, paid for (more or less) in a year. Or the extra $200 could be their gift, if his parents wanted Christmas over with. He assumed they did; his mother seemed jealous Teconieshe had sold them a house with nothing down.

“I guess you’ve got the leeway. You can do what you want.” She sounded about to hang up. Before they’d got to the embarrassing part.

He rushed: “If you can charge it for us, I mean over the phone   Or not, if you’d rather come in person     Or whatever      I’ll cover the payments.”

Learning Experiences was still John’s employer. His income afforded not much for brightening the house. By that Christmas of 1990, their first anniversary, they had a sofa and love seat, in broad green stripes on beige, twine-textured Herculon, honey oak trim. Nothing like the ’30s piece pulled for their wedding from Oathbreach storage, but green. His wife’s sentimental green.

“What if…?” he started, behind her while she strung lights on the juniper. He had chopped the juniper off by the roadside. It was shaped like a Christmas tree. Teconieshe said it was a junk plant.

“Ow! Ow!”

“Do you want me to do that?”

“Look, I’m bleeding. John, did you say what if?”

“This year we’re not going.” He had wanted to say it preemptively, before Aura flattered her again, decided more colors for her, a menu to prefer, music. “Fix your finger.”

He heard water run in the sink, then: “Oh. I think I get you. I told Aura to keep tickets for us.”

“That’s fine. We’ll do Christmas at Oathbreach.”

“You said we’re not.”

“You want to, so we are.”

She came out of the kitchen, a watery glint in her eyes, and said a new thing to John. “We’re not. We are. Do you hear yourself, telling me what I’m going to do? I will have lunch with Aura, and you may stay at home. You don’t like her. I do. That sounds fine.”

He watched Claudie climb to a guest room.

This was a fight, arrived from nowhere he knew of. He moved to the half-strung lights and stabbed himself at first touch. He worked the lights around with painstaking slowness, and when finally he plugged them in, his fingers were bleeding as well.

44

An Odd Man Out

The Resident (part thirty-two)

(2025, Stephanie Foster)