“This is delicious!” Hannah chewed on her first bite of spaghetti and her eyes lit up. “I don’t even like carbs!”
“She’s kidding.” Mr. Smith rolled his eyes. “You should see her with a bowl of ice cream.”
“Dad!” She glared at him angrily and he chuckled.
I offered Mr. Smith some whiskey after dinner and he gladly accepted. I decided not to have any myself since I would be driving. Hannah went back to her room and we walked outside on the deck to enjoy the evening air. Mostly, we just talked business. He was in advertising, but he didn’t have any major clients in the small town he lived in. He had a lot of stories about the world of advertising—I was sure a few of them were embellished, but they were still funny.
I told him the rest of the details about my life, including my marriage which went down in flames. He nodded painfully at the intricate details. I had a decent job at least, and with Hannah staying there, I could start putting my life back together on the financial front. He finished one glass of whiskey fairly quickly and went for a second. As he drank, he seemed to loosen up a little bit. We had a lot in common, although we would have probably never spoken if we passed each other on the street or ended up on the same subway. Once the conversation started flowing, we talked like old friends.
“I guess I should get you to the airport.” I looked at my watch.
“Yeah, first my flight was late and now I’ll be rushing to get there.” He chuckled and finished the last gulp of his whiskey before walking inside.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go to the airport with you?” Hannah walked down the hallway when she heard us enter the house.
“No, you stay here and unpack.” He turned to Hannah and hugged her. “Be good. Don’t give Brent here any problems. I love you.”
“I won’t give him any trouble. I love you too.” She hugged him tight before letting him go.
It was a long drive to the airport, but I didn’t mind spending more time talking with him. The subject shifted to football and we were immediately on opposite ends of the field, passionately explaining why our team was better. We started running through lineups, calling out players that could stop the other team’s quarterback and agreeing we would actually put a wager on the game when our teams played each other. We got to the airport and he stumbled when he got out of the car. Apparently, the whiskey had hit him a little harder than I realized. I helped him get his bag to the gate and waited until he got checked in. He shook my hand again and pulled me close before he let it go.
“She can be a handful at times. If she gets out of line, just put her over your knee.” He gave me a wink and then turned towards the terminal.
I responded with a nervous laugh and a strange look. He walked towards the terminal and pulled his bag behind him. I started to worry that the alcohol had a lot more of an impact on him than I thought when I saw him stagger. I climbed back into my car and headed home—I was ready for bed.
Hannah
As soon as Brent and my father were gone, I went outside for a cigarette. It felt good after not being able to have one for the entire trip across the country. Brent seemed like a nice guy and he cooked an awesome dinner, so I was pretty sure I would like living with him, despite my original concerns. I returned to my room and continued the overwhelming task of unpacking my things. I worked for a couple of hours before I heard Brent’s car in the driveway. I was exhausted and I badly needed to take a break. I had managed to get the bed cleared off and most of my clothes unpacked, which I considered to be a monumental achievement. I walked into the living room and saw Brent pouring a glass of whiskey.
“Can I get one of those?” I bit down on my lip and smiled when looked my way.
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “I don’t think your father would be very happy if he found out I got you drunk.”
“Fine…” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure there will be plenty of alcohol at all the parties I’ll be going to.”
“Yeah, about that.” He walked over and took a seat. “I don’t care if you go out. This is your house as much as it is mine while you’re here, but don’t forget who is paying your rent. I have a vested interest in making sure you do well in college.”
“I was kidding anyway. I’m not much of a partier.” I slumped down on the sofa across from him. “Do you have Netflix?”
“I do.” He nodded and picked up the remote.
We decided on a comedy that was a little raunchy, but it was the kind of movie I was used to watching with my friends. He seemed to enjoy it as well, even some of the crude humor that I would have been afraid to ever watch with my father. I figured Brent had about ten years on me, but he was unbelievably attractive. When he got up to fix another drink, I couldn’t help but stare. I wasn’t used to meeting nice guys that were so hot. The guys my age knew how attractive they were and flaunted it. Brent was more reserved and he was more of a man than any of them were. By the time the movie was over, we were both laughing—but we were also yawning. We called it a night and I got ready for bed. I would have some long nights ahead of me when school started, so I needed all the sleep I could get while my brain was still at peace.
After school started, Brent and I rarely saw each other outside of breakfast and dinner. We settled into a routine of him going to work and me going to school. I got home earlier than him, so if I didn’t have a lot of homework, I would try to put together something edible so he didn’t have to cook. He was a lot better at it than I was, even when I followed his recipes to the letter. He would usually arrive in time to bail me out. More than once he arrived when I was mid tantrum and contemplating the idea of burning the house down to hide my latest failure. Even when I thought the food sucked, he told me it was wonderful as he downed every bite—sometimes he even went back for seconds while I was gagging on mine.
“Seriously, this is just terrible.” I stared at what was supposed to be squash on my plate. It was charred and almost mush.
“Add a little salt—it brings out the flavor.” He winked and scooped it onto his fork. It hit the plate before he could get it in his mouth.
“At least the chicken survived.” I picked up the piece of meat that could have been used as a hockey puck. “Or almost.”
“It just means you have to chew it more. It’s fine.” He finally got some squash in his mouth and started sawing on his chicken.
“Maybe I should just leave the cooking to you…” I sighed and put down my fork.
“You’ll never learn if you don’t practice. Melody is coming this weekend. We can cook dinner together and I’ll show you a few tricks.” He smiled and started chewing his chicken.
Melody was adorable. She looked like a miniature version of the woman giving me an evil glare from the curb, except Melody’s face was lit up with a gigantic smile. She didn’t even know me, but she gave me a big hug the instant she met me. By the time I stood up from the hug, I saw her mother in the car and driving away. Brent was true to his word and we spent the evening in the kitchen, working on dinner together. He showed me how to use the meat thermometer to check the temperature on chicken and showed me the cheat sheet he kept in the drawer to determine when it was ready to be served. He taught me how to sauté vegetables instead of stew them in a pan, and he even showed me how to adjust the heat when things weren’t going right. Those were the things the cookbook failed to mention and when we were done, we had a meal that looked like it could have been in a magazine.
“Mommy says you’re Daddy’s new slut.” Melody grinned as I served her.
“Melody! That isn’t a nice word!” Brent glared at his daughter and looked at me. “I’m sorry. Melody, tell Hannah you’re sorry.”
“Sorry…” She looked down at the plate. “I didn’t realize it was a bad word.”
“It’s okay, Melody.” I sat down and felt a bit devious. “Next time your mommy says that, ask her who his old slut was.”
“Hannah!” Brent’s jaw dropped. “Melody, don’t ask your m
other that.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She grinned and started eating her food after Brent cut the chicken into tiny little bites.
Brent couldn’t help but smile at me behind his hand as he shot me an angry glare with his eyes. I started eating my food, watching the way Brent interacted with Melody. I had started to develop feelings for him in the time we spent together, but watching him with her just made my heart melt. He was such an amazing father. It was a shame that his ex-wife had thrown that away for whoever the hell hot-dad was. As far as I was concerned, the hottest dad on the planet was sitting at the other end of the table. I wanted him—and not just as a roommate. I wanted him to be the man who took my virginity—I wanted him to be my first and my last. I had no idea if he felt anything towards me and I couldn’t even fathom what it would take to find out. The wound left on my heart from Anthony was starting to heal and Brent was responsible for every bit of it.
Brent
Adding Hannah to the household raised my expenses and I wasn’t exactly going to get half of everything paid compared to what I was paying before. I would still come out ahead, especially with the rent money. I figured I would just keep a tab and send her father the bill once I had a total. Crunching numbers was my thing anyway, so knowing that I had a check coming was somewhat therapeutic. It was going to be the first month I actually had some money in the bank without wondering how much credit card debt it would take to the next paycheck. Instead of sending the money, her father decided to visit personally, just to see how things were going. Hannah made dinner on her own and it was clear that she was a fast learner.
“You seriously didn’t just order take-out and put it on a plate?” Her father wiped the edge of his lip with a napkin.
“No!” She glared at her father. “I’m actually learning how to cook.”
“How is school going?” He pushed his plate away and folded his arms.
“So far, I’ve aced everything.” Her glare turned to a smile.
“Fantastic!” He nodded. “I think that calls for a celebration—well, for the two of us.”
“She asked for a drink the first night she was here.” I nodded to Hannah. “I told her no.”
“Hannah…” His voice lowered and he practically growled.
“He said no.” She held up her hands. “You can’t blame me for asking.”
Hannah’s father did a quick inspection of the house after we had drinks in our hand and I showed him how to work the pull-out sofa. I offered him my bed, but he declined. We stayed up much later than I was used to, but it was nice to have someone to drink and shoot the shit with. Steve didn’t visit nearly enough and he was always more concerned with gushing about how awesome my life was—or how hot my roommate was—to actually offer real conversation. I had to shut him down several times when he started making inappropriate comments about Hannah and he seemed genuinely offended by it.
“Okay…” Mr. Smith stood up and put his glass on the kitchen counter. “I need to get some rest. How does this thing work again?”
“I’ll get it set up.” I laughed and started pulling the bed out of the sofa. “By the way, I haven’t told Hannah this yet, but I’m going to have to head to Baltimore in a couple of weeks. I’ll be gone for several days, so I figured you should know she’s here by herself.”
“Thank you.” He nodded. “I would come out, but the middle of the week is not possible with my job. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Yes sir.” I finished unfolding the bed and took a step back. “She’s very responsible and there haven’t been any issues at all outside of her early attempts at making dinner.”
“I’m glad she figured it out before I came to visit.” He chuckled and sat down on the side of the bed.
“Have a good night.” I nodded to him and started walking down the hallway.
“You too.” He called out and I heard his head hit the bed before I even got my door closed.
I drove Mr. Smith to the airport on Sunday and he was on his way back home after giving me Hannah’s check for her half of the expenses. I broke the news of the travel arrangements the next day to Hannah, who seemed disappointed, but understood why I would be away. I was actually happy she would be there. The previous time that I had been called away on business, I had to suck it up and ask my ex-wife to check on the house while I was gone. The trip wouldn’t impact Melody, but I made sure to tell her anyway. She didn’t fully understand at first and seemed more upset she wouldn’t get to see Hannah than me. Melody seemed to be enamored with Hannah, who showered her with attention. The job itself turned out to be a lost less intensive than it was originally presented to me, so I finished up early. I stood at the airport waiting on my flight and realized that I wasn’t just excited to get home and see Melody—I was actually looking forward to seeing Hannah as well. As much respect as I had for her father, I couldn’t deny that something seemed to be blossoming between us.
Hannah
I had four days with the house to myself before Brent was due to return. As much as I missed him, I was also looking forward to breaking a few rules and enjoying the time alone. I found a few bottles of wine that were gathering dust in the kitchen cabinet, and since Brent didn’t drink anything but whiskey, I assumed they were left by his wife. Her loss would be my gain. I poured a glass and sat down in front of the television. After the first glass, I was already buzzing and I wanted a cigarette. I started to stand up and go outside, but then I remembered that he wasn’t home. The smell would definitely be out of the house by the time he got back, so I fashioned an ashtray out of a saucer and lit one up in the living room. It was nice not having to pause my show and stand outside to smoke.
This is the life…
I finished most of the bottle and smoked far too many cigarettes before I was finally too sleepy to keep my eyes open. I walked into the bedroom and plopped down on the bed, dragging myself the rest of the way onto it until my feet weren’t on the floor. The sleep that came was dark and silent without a single dream. I woke up the next morning and it felt like I had been asleep forever. The sun was high in the sky—I was late for class! I stood up and felt my head pounding so hard my eyes were hurting. I was already late, so there wasn’t any reason to force it. I decided to just skip classes and spend the day in bed after I downed a glass of water, a cigarette, and some Advil.
Fuck everything except this pillow.
I fell asleep fairly quickly and when I woke up again, it was well past noon. I needed food so bad it felt like my stomach was going to eat itself if I didn’t get something in it soon. I staggered to the kitchen and all I could think about was Brent’s delicious spaghetti. I put some noodles in a pot of water and poured the last of the wine from the night before in my glass. It went a lot further towards alleviating my headache than the water and Advil did. I decided to get a quick shower while the spaghetti was cooking, but once I was under the water, I lost track of time completely. It felt so good on my scalp that I just stood there underneath the warmth until I smelled something foul. I leaned back from the water and remembered the spaghetti. My feet slid across the kitchen as I can to it, naked and dripping water everywhere. The water had completely boiled out of the pot and the kitchen was filled with smoke.
“Shit!” I ran to the pot and grabbed a potholder, tossing the smoky mess into the sink and turning off the stove. “Ugh. I guess I’m just going to have a sandwich.”
I made it to school the next day after another night of drinking wine, and the day was difficult to say the least. I was already exhausted by the time my classes were done. When I got back home, I realized just how bad the house looked. I had two more nights to deal with it, so I decided to enjoy the evening and figure it out the next day. I could skip school and spend the whole day cleaning everything up—I was doing well enough to miss a couple of classes without falling behind, even though I had already missed one day that week. I spent the evening drinking, smoking, and pleasuring myself on the couch when the mood struck me. The evening end
ed with another trip to my bed that was nothing more than my naked body landing on the sheets before I passed out.
Brent
Unfortunately, what I hoped to be a happy homecoming wasn’t meant to be. When I opened the door, I was immediately greeted by several wine glasses sitting in a circle on the counter around empty bottles. Lipstick adorned the glasses, and in a few of them were remnants of wine and cigarette butts. The kitchen was a complete mess, and it appeared someone had tried to cook spaghetti, but burned the ban and the contents. The pan was scorched and the whole failed endeavor had just been tossed in the sink to dry, without a drop of water in it. There were clothes all over the hallway, like someone just took a whole load of laundry and rolled the basket down the hallway.
I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things—my house looked like it had been taken over by a homeless family. The stench of smoke was noticeable in the air, even before Hannah walked through the door of the kitchen with a lit cigarette in her hand.
“Oh shit.” It was like slow motion as her eyes got wide and she realized exactly what I was staring at.
“Hannah? What the fuck?!” I screamed louder than I have ever screamed before.
Anger just flooded through me. It was pure, unadulterated rage that I hadn’t felt since I was a teenager overcome by strange emotions.
“Brent, oh my god! I’ll clean it up, I promise I will. Oh my god. I’m so sorry! I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow!” She tossed her cigarette into a wine glass and started furiously gathering things up. She practically moved in fast forward as she piled the glasses into the dishwasher.
I put my fingers to my temples and exhaled deeply. I needed a fucking drink. I walked out of the kitchen without saying a word and poured a glass of whiskey. My rage started to settle a little bit as I sat down on the couch, but it ignited again once I saw the multiple condensation rings left on the table. There was a coaster right next to them, but she just chose to put her drink on the wood. The coffee table was one I inherited from my grandmother and it was over a hundred years old. I had it appraised once for over two thousand dollars, and she had completely ruined it. The spots might buff out, but retreating the wood and having it polished down with a new coat of varnish would devalue what was a near flawless antique. Hannah appeared momentarily and scooped up the saucer she had been using as an ashtray. Once she picked it up, I noticed she had also burnt a spot on the wood with a careless ash.
Mr. Roomate Page 3