A Life With You

by Roy Miller

  Fifty Three

  It's been chilly out and I noticed you wore leggings under your dress when you left for work, something you do when you want to feel comfortable. I decide that after a particularly quiet week that I'll send you an edible arrangement at work to kickstart the weekend. The delivery driver shows up and asks for you by name, and you accept the basket with a big smile. Your coworkers sprout mixed reactions from middle school gossip to jealousy and your closest colleague comes up front to check out the basket, stopping at the front of your desk with her chin resting on her fists. She nods toward the card and you pull it out, eager to see what it says. I didn't put much, preferring to say what I want in person instead of in writing, but I say I remembered you mentioning once that your friend is allergic to cantaloupe, so I substituted watermelon since I knew you would want to share. You grab a wedge of chocolate and she grabs a wedge of watermelon, then you touch them together in a sort of toast. On my lunch break I notice I have a text from you, and all it has are skirt and heels emojis; your way of saying you want to dress up and go out.

  Fifty Four

  We got twenty six inches of snow overnight, and while school has been cancelled, work has not, which means I need to get up a little earlier than you to go clean off the cars and start them so they can run for a little while. I roll over and stretch, but in the middle of my yawn I realize you're not lying next to me. There's no light coming from our bathroom, so I get up and look out the bedroom window. You're shoveling the walkway from the porch to the driveway, clouds of white hovering around your head. I get dressed and step out onto the porch, setting my jaw at the bitter cold air in my lungs. You lean onto the shovel and smile at me, then laugh and tell me not to give you that look. You remind me that I said we weren't just a couple, but partners, and that in our equality I would allow you to do your half. I remind you that you forbid me from doing my half when I tried to make the grocery list last week, because of the time I forgot dish soap, which meant we had to eat spaghetti off of paper plates.

  Fifty Five

  My nephew comes to stay with us for a weekend and the first thing he wants to do when he gets to us is go to the library. He's always loved the library. Neither of us have been in a little while since you buy most of your books online through your tablet and I get second hand paperbacks from Goodwill, when there's something other than awfully dated romance novels. After walking in and playing with the turnstile for a full minute, we head downstairs to the children's section. Some kids run around in circles while being routinely reminded to be quiet and others sit on bean bags for story time in the adjacent room. My nephew looks through the books and finds a few that he wants and you pick out a couple extra, just in case. I notice one of the books you pick has a litter of dalmation-spotted kittens on the front, and it reminds me of the story you told of when your kitten stayed with your aunt for a few days and came back acting like her dog. It even tried to bark on occasion.

  Fifty Six

  You get the call at dinner one night that your best friend is finally having her baby. They were rushing to the hosptial as her husband texted, and you quickly clean up your plate so you can get there to be with her. I tell you to leave the stuff and I'll clean it up, so you kiss me on the cheek on and flee in a matter of minutes. Once your car is gone I finish cleaning up the kitchen and package your pasta in a tupperware container, since you didn't get to eat much before the news came through. After finishing up the kitchen I gather up the food and head to the hospital myself, finding you sitting in the waiting room halfway down the hall from your friend and her husband. You see I brought your leftovers and smile, taking them from me and finishing up while we watch a rerun of Judge Judy. I say how the defendant kind of looks like your aunt that got drunk and fell down the stairs last New Years, and you can't help but laugh. The day rolls on and just shy of ten hours later, as you're sitting sideways in a chair covered up with my jacket, the husband comes out to announce the arrival of their new baby girl. I wake you up and we head to the room hand in hand.

  Fifty Seven

  On our way home from dinner you take your seat belt off to reach the CD stack on the floor behind you. As you're turning around a cop flashes its blues and I let out a breath, pulling over to the curb. I ask you to hand me the packet in the glovebox that contains my insurance and registration while I get my license out. You realize you aren't wearing your seat belt and hope that you didn't get us pulled over just because you had a musical craving for Mineral. The officer, a stout dark-skinned woman with a very large bun under her hat, asks for my information and I hand it over. She looks through it and I ask why she's pulled me over. She informs me that the small bulb that illuminates my license plate is out, but before she can say anything else two cars blow through the stop sign at the intersection in front of us. The officer tosses my documents onto my lap with a quick reminder to get the light fixed, then hustles to her car and takes off. You nod your head with a satisfied look and put your seat belt back on.

  Fifty Eight

  A mid-week date night takes us to a new eatery on the edge of downtown that serves finger foods and gourmet drinks. We get an assorted platter that includes things like cucumber sandwiches and kebabs with fruits and cheeses. As we're finishing up the sound of a little girl crying floats to us from around the corner, and we hear the dad consoling her and promising they'll find her dog. You ask me if we can help, so I leave money on the table for the bill and server before we head down to join the hunt. The father says her dog is a four year old chocolate Lab that had gotten loose from her hand when it took off after a squirrel. They take the left area and we take the right, meeting up a half hour later empty handed as the sun begins to set. He tells his daughter that they can try again tomorrow, and she wipes tears from her eyes. You kneel down and tuck the girl's hair behind her ear, telling her that she'll be reunited with her friend soon enough. We probably won't find out what happens, but hoping for good never hurt anyone.

  Fifty Nine

  My brother calls me on one of the hotter afternoons in August and asks if we can dog sit for him overnight, since he has to work out of town for the weekend and is leaving early, while his fiancée is pulling overtime at her office. She won't be home until late and it's too hot to leave the dog by herself all day, so I tell him to bring her over. We've seen at least a dozen out and about today, romping with kids and drinking from the garden hose. I'm allergic to dogs and you said when we first got together that you weren't a big fan, but we both like my brother's dog. She's an old golden retriever named Dixie. He shows up, drops her off and heads out, then later when it finally cools down a little we gear up to take her around the block. On the third side of the square we find some of the neighborhood kids with a lemonade stand. Then sun is starting to decline and turning the faces of passersby a light pink. I ask for three cups and you look at me funny, but your look changes to a laugh when I set one of them on the sidewalk for Dixie. I forget to hold it and she knocks it over with her tongue, so I buy another one, much to the gratitude of the kids.

  Sixty

  It's about half an hour before I have to get up when I hear a popping sound and a scream from the bathroom. I tear the covers off and skid to the door to find you covered in water, trying desperately to find your way out. The pipe under the bathroom sink had separated and water was gushing out onto the floor, soaking everything in the cupboard. In my half asleep stupor I chuckle at the state of you, closing my mouth quickly when you stare me down without an ounce of humor. I tell you I'll get it fixed as soon as possible and to finish getting ready in the kitchen. A quick call into work sets me up with a personal day so I can wait for the plumber, and when he arrives there are multiple bowls and small buckets filled up in different areas of the bathroom and hallway. He smiles and gets to work, and I wonder how many times he's seen the same situation, and if he ever wonders how the couples involved handle it.

  Sixty One

  Your work has decided to do a company outing, and your coworkers
agreed on going to the bowling alley. Bowling was never your favorite, since you said you have trouble throwing even the lightest balls they have, but you want to go anyway. You invite me along and we're one of the first to show up, beaten only by an older couple named Roger and Debbie who are sitting at the side of the parking lot on their luxury road bikes. We park next to them and sit on the hood, watching the side deck of the bowling alley flash with the lights of the party. College kids like the live DJ atmosphere coupled with the ability to be outside. A few tracks into some non-descript techno mix the rest of the crew shows up and we head in, grab a few beers and pick some lanes. The inside of the alley smells like popcorn and rubber, the same smell you'd find in the rental room at the roller skating rink. You grab a small pink ball that you think wouldn't be too hard to handle, and holding it up by your face reminds me of the time you blew a bubble so big that it got in your hair when it popped.

  Sixty Two

  We decide to head out together on a weekday off to get errands done, then maybe stop somewhere for lunch. In order it's the bank, the Post Office and the car insurance office to take care of bills and such. After that it's the grocery store and the drug store to find a birthday card for your dad. The Post Office takes the longest, as per usual, with us waiting in line for over forty minutes. You offer to take the car and get a couple of the other things done while I wait but I grab your hand and squeeze, saying I'd rather drag it out and spend the time with you. A woman at the front of the line with two kids is trying to get a box mailed when one of her children knocks over the clerk's supply of business cards. They scatter all over the floor and she looks down with a big sigh, her hands on her hips. The clerk watches wordlessly as the woman bends down to pick up the cards, careful not to make eye contact with any of the other patrons who are watching her in various forms of silent judgement.

  Sixty Three

  I have to go in for a regularly scheduled doctor's visit, so you spend the time I'm gone making a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies since you know they're my favorite. I'm gone for about forty five minutes and when I come back the cookies are cooling on a plate, and you're nowhere to be found. I try one, unsurprised at the delicate perfection of your culinary art, then set out to find you. The laundry room is empty, as is the basement and the backyard, so I head upstairs toward our bedroom. The guest room is propped open and you're standing in front of a mostly empty canvas, save for carefully placed strips of red and orange. I make sure to be quiet, only peeking in for a second and then leaving you to your expression. You told me when we were dating that I might lose you for a little bit sometimes as you fall into the off-white of a potential future piece. I don't mind, I like the way your shoulders square up when you've gotten something off your chest.

  Sixty Four

  One night over dinner you say you want to go to the city for a weekend. I tell you I'll look at my schedule and see about getting time off and we'll work on the account management together. A few days later, we crunch the numbers and I let you take control of reservations. When the next weekend comes up, we pack up and head out, arriving at the hotel around dinner time the first night. I set up the room by putting our clothes away, plugging in chargers and pulling back the bedding. While you're getting ready I pull out my laptop and start checking out some things in the area around us, and when you come out fully made up in a dress with your hair curled and heels in your hands, it suddenly doesn't matter where we go as long as everyone sees how lucky I am. You walk over and run your fingers through my hair while you check out the screen, pointing eventually to a restaurant a few blocks away from the hotel. There's no way I can match the way you shine, but I grab my things and head to the bathroom to try anyway.

  Sixty Five

  You wake up for work one morning and I realize it takes you a while get out of bed. You sit on the edge for a minute, twisting side to side in an attempt to relieve some tension. I sit up and place my hand on the small of your back, and you look over at me with a weak smile. Apparently flipping the mattress isn't working anymore, since you're obviously in pain, so I tell you that we can go look for a new one over the weekend. When we get to the store we ask the first open attendant where the king size start, and he points to the far right corner. The first row all look pretty standard, and I watch you run your hand along the bottom edge of a couple of them. You stop in front of a big four poster with drawers underneath and lie down, patting the space next to you indicating I should do the same. I wrap my arm around you and you rest your head on my bicep. We're both getting comfortable as an elderly couple passes by in pursuit of an attendant wheeling out a recliner. The woman looks at us and smiles, and from the look on your face I wonder if you're thinking of how we'll be them someday, watching a younger couple in our place.

  Sixty Six

  When it takes you over half an hour to find a certain box of coffee mugs stashed in the basement, you tell me that it's time we have another garage sale. We spend the rest of the week moving things a little at a time. Saturday morning comes around and I set up the tables while you make breakfast, and we eat together before hauling stuff outside. You set up the clothes and household items while I set up odds and ends from the toolbox and old CDs. Once everything is out you realize we forgot to get pricing stickers, so you head for the dollar store while I finish grouping the items together in similar areas. When you get back people are already in the driveway, some with items in their hands and curious expressions on their faces. A young woman with more makeup than looked possible to wear approaches you and asks how much for the lamp she's holding, and it turns out to be the one you had in your room at your grandparent's house. You figure maybe she had a similar one or possibly has a daughter that would like it, so you let go of the sentiments attached and tell her five dollars. She hands you a crisp bill and you watch her walk away satisfied.

  Sixty Seven

  After I finish mowing the lawn you come out to help set up the sprinkler. It's been really hot lately and some of the neighboring houses have brought up concerns about browning grass, so we bought a cheap sprinkler to ease their minds. You unravel the garden hose while I put the mower back in the garage, and when I come out to help you finish up the girl from across the street passes by on her bike. She tries to wave at us while going by and ends up falling down, since she hasn't quite mastered the art of riding steadily without training wheels. You drop the hose and walk over to her, but before you even get there she starts crying. Her knee is scraped pretty bad and little pieces of gravel are stuck in, so I have you pick them out while I grab the hose. We rinse it a little, causing her to scream even louder, then I carry her across the street to her mom. She answers the door with worry until she sees the scrape, then she relaxes a little and heads in to get a bandaid. A couple minutes later and a fresh new Lisa Simpson bandaid meant she was good as new, and you looked at me with sense of pride.

  Sixty Eight

  It's snowed for the past few days, but the temperature has been right around the thirty two degree mark. After work on one of the warmer days, I ask you if you'd like to go ice skating since it isn't too cold. You tell me you haven't been since you were a kid and you probably wouldn't be able to anymore, but I promise to hold your hand and catch you if you fall. Once you agree and get dressed we head to the consignment sports store to find skates. The old man working in the back reminds me of Hans from The Mighty Ducks, and I have a feeling I'm not the first one. Eventually we make it to the outdoor rink and find it luckily not too packed, so we strap up and head out. You're a little hesitant at first, holding both of my hands but not stepping out onto the ice. I look at you and remind you that I promised to catch you if you fall, so you step out and slide over to me. The sun starts to slip behind the tops of the trees and the lights around the rink turn on. You put one foot in front of the other, slowly keeping pace with me around the edge. Your earrings sparkle in the light and it reminds me of the skater figurine that spins in your music box.

  Sixty Nine

  On
e thing we've talked about a few times but never done is volunteering. We each have a quiet weekday off together, so you suggest we go to the local shelter and help out with dinner. I remember you telling me the stories that your grandmother used to tell you when you stayed at her house a child. How she and your grandfather helped feed the protesters during the power riots of the sixties. You always have such pride in your eyes when you talk about them, and my hope is that getting out there and helping together will strengthen our bond. We pull up to the shelter as people are lining up outside and enter through the side door. The kitchen head looks relieved when he sees us and points out hair nets and gloves. I give him a thumbs up and think of my eighth grade history teacher who had the same mustache. People from all walks of life come through the line, men, women and children alike. A father and his two little girls come through and the one on the left tells you you look like her mom, but she hasn't seen her in a long time. I make eye contact with the dad and nod, and he nods back with a hint of a smile.