Mike has been dead for two months. We weathered both Thanksgiving and Christmas without him.
It is lonely beyond belief and yet, the day to day business of paying bills,registering cars, fixing leaks in roofs and toilets and making sure there is milk in the fridge goes on. I have dogs to walk and people with whom to deal and talk.
At least the flood of strangers has all but stopped. I would answer the door to some stranger who would tell me Mike owed them money or that Mike had told them that if he dies, they could have the Mercedes. “Give me your time card and I’ll give it to the book keeper,” I would say. “I need your social security number.” Or, “You must be mistaken. That Mercedes is MINE. He wouldn’t be giving it away to you.” Oh they would backtrack, just like the liars they are. “Maybe he meant his work truck.” Indeed. Is that what you think? Which truck would that be? Then the guessing game would start. “You know, his work truck!” The Chevy? The Ford? The Dodge? They would never know because that conversation never happened but each one of them would try to balls it out, thinking I have not a brain in my head.
I am still having total strangers call me up FROM JAIL to see if I would like to bail them out. I ask you, at 0200, is that really what you think I’d like to do? I think not. But they would tell me some lame ass story about what great friends they were with Mike and how they would have to stay in jail until Monday morning. I sure wouldn’t want THAT to happen, would I? Actually, yeah. I wouldn’t mind having your drunken self locked up for the weekend. So after they tell me their story, I thank them for letting me know where they are and start to hang up.”Wait! Wait Miss Katie! You are my only hope. I don’t want to stay in jail.” So I ask them if they want me to call their mama or their wife or their baby mama….I can do that. Then I get the unhappy kindergarten voice. “Oh, I was hoping that you’d like to come get me.” Obviously you don’t know me. I don’t want to get dressed and drive across town in the cold middle of the night for you, Mr. Stranger. You just wasted your one phone call. And then I go right back to sleep..