Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Laundry Day

Found this in some old files - a bit dusty and could use a work over - but thought I'd put it up anyway. Interesting to see how we change over the years.

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“Is his waist really that large?” Stephanie balked at the size of the boxers she was folding. She felt the same jolt of shock when folding his large jeans that were finding their way into her laundry with alarming regularity these days. The jeans looked large enough to wrap around her twice. “Funny, he never feels that large in person.” Her forehead creased in irritation when she tried to reconcile the size of the faded t-shirt in front of her with the man she thought she knew. How had this happened? How had any of this happened?

Fingers slid over the cloth, smoothing and tucking the next shirt into the correct shape in a folding technique was automatic, practiced for years on her petite clothing. Above puzzled eyes, her forehead crinkled again.

Suddenly a hand covered the small of her back and she felt a tall, unyielding presence leaning over her. It was looming, inevitable, blocking out all space and light in the room while it pressed forward, insistent, and unstoppable. Stephanie stiffened, determined to not let it crush her. “You’re a fighter… fighter…fighter,” she chanted to herself to calm the panic.

“Hey sweetie. Thought I’d bring a bottle of wine to go with the spaghetti tonight.” His voice cracked against her and she jerked back from his quick peck on her cheek, heart scrambling to find footing in reality.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Don’t you knock anymore? You scared the shit out of me… oh God.” She slumped into the bed. Instead of its firm surface she found herself flailing in piles of lumpy socks, tiny underwear and gargantuan sweatshirts and sweaters. Suddenly her entire wardrobe seemed to be made of Velcro and she felt claustrophobic. The rush of adrenaline only fueled the panicked feeling. “Fighter” whispered through her head again and she tore clothes from her, throwing them as far from her as she could.

“Sorry, here” He reached into the mess, laughing. “… Ouch… hold still…Why are you wriggling so much? Good grief, it’s only me. I didn’t mean to scare you. … Damn it, calm down.” He tried to help disentangle his black pants from her legs before she tripped herself and went down again.

She flicked a pillow case off her lap as she calmed. Feeling foolish and embarrassed, she shrugged off his attempts to help. “I’m ok. You brought wine?”
“Yeah, stuck it in the kitchen. I thought you heard me come in. The radio isn’t even on. You ok?” He reached down to help her up and then tilted her head up to him, trying to assess her state of mind.

“Why didn’t you knock?”

“You knew I was coming over. You gave me a key and I never knock anymore. Seems logical. You didn’t have a problem with it last night.” He straightened up indignantly. She shrugged in response.

Turning towards the doorway she shrugged again and shook her head quickly. “No. No. Of course not. Of course it’s alright.” She left the laundry on the bed and went towards the kitchen. She’d concentrate on dinner she told herself firmly. That way she wouldn’t have to keep looking at his polo shirt swallowing her tank top. Determined, she went to go boil some water.

“Want a glass?” A cork popped behind her.

She shrugged, not committing to the idea one way or the other.

“Cold out there. Heard it was supposed to be down to 23 degrees tonight.”

Silence hung between them.

He tried again. “You’d be proud. I think I finally figured out that excel sheet that was giving me crap yesterday. ‘Course it was just some silly mistake on my part; Jerry started laughing so hard when I told him what I had done that I don’t think I’ll ever live it down.” He paused, continued. “But, at least it’s done and I don’t have to worry about it anymore for the rest of the night.” He cocked his head, swallowed some wine and watched her stiff shoulders. Then he took a deep breath, which raised his shoulders, and stepped forward.

“Isn’t that good?” She felt his breath on her ear as he leaned down and spoke in a quiet, humorous tone. Surprise and tension jerked through her body, his head bounced of the cabinet and the burner sizzled when the sloshed water hit it.

“Jesus Christ! What’s with you today?” It was his turn to swear.

“Nothing…Everything.”

He loomed.

Something snapped in her and she rounded on him. “You’re everywhere! You take up room in my washing machine. You sneak up on me, walk into my space unannounced. You stand over me, look down on me. You’re twice my size and you take up too much space in my house. You’ve got a bottle of shampoo in my shower, a toothbrush next to mine and shaving cream stashed under the sink.” She tried to remember to keep her voice reasonable. Hoping to calm herself so she could make sense of what was going on, she started to pace.

He watched.

“I’ve got your jeans in my dirty clothes. You just show up in my bedroom, unannounced and suddenly I’m planning dinner for two. Even at night there’s an arm pressing me down. You hover over me with a glass of wine and I’m trying to just stay afloat.” She stilled and turned slightly away from him. Her hands were shaking.

She stirred the sauce. She could feel him behind her. He was now just as tense as she was. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him poured a glass of wine. The focused deliberateness in the action told her more than words would have. He handed it to her and looked down at her. He took a sip of his own wine.
She sipped the wine.

Time stretched.

“Stephanie… You’re 5 foot 1. Of course I’m twice your size.” The controlled tone of voice kept her still and unsure of what was coming. He continued quietly. “I don’t hover or loom. I didn’t realize I was pressing myself on you unwanted.” She felt poised to run if she needed to. She knew she was reacting a bit irrationally and that she should calm down, back off. She couldn’t.

“I know.” She mumbled, embarrassed from her outburst. “It’s just my house has been my house for so long. All mine and just mine. It’s weird to fold your laundry and have you taking up space in my bathroom.”

Sauce bubbled.

“You slipped in unexpected, uninvited. I watched for it this invasion but didn’t see it until now. All these little things just built up under my nose without me noticing. And, now you’re here. Looming, large and cumbersome” His eyebrows rose at that and he set his glass down on the table. “And your pants are big and take up too much room in my washing machine.”

“Uninvited?! Now I’m some kind of invader?” He stepped to his coat. “I didn’t realize I was imposing myself upon your good graces. Despite my size, I’ve never used it to intimidate anyone into tolerating my presence.”

She watched him shrug into his coat and felt a shift. A different panic was beginning to set in and she took a step forward. “Don’t –“

“I’ll leave you to your house. I’ve got better things to do then to stay where I’m not wanted.” He clipped his words when he was angry.

She felt frozen, not knowing what to do. She wanted the safety of her cocoon but she didn’t want to see him leave. She reached for her wine and tried to think faster than the door was shutting. She failed and the silence pressed in on her. The lack of his presence rose in her mind; it took up so much space she felt she couldn’t breathe. She shook her head and turned back to the stove.

The empty table with the half empty wine glass loomed at her back.