The Roommate 'dis'Agreement

“So you called? Seems kind of rude.” Humor filled her soft voice.

“I already told you I’m a night owl, that I’m looking for someone who can stay up and hang out with me. I figured there’s no better way to see if you meet that criteria than talking on the phone.”

“That seems like sound logic. So now that you have me, let’s chat. Tell me something about you, Cash. You said you’re divorced, how long has it been? And what happened? Did she not talk enough for you?”

This wasn’t really a conversation I wanted to get into with her, at least not this soon, but we were here. She’d asked, and I had to own it. “It’s been a year, and I left because my wife—ex-wife—cheated on me, and I’m the one who caught her.”

“Oh my God, Cash. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Nothing to be sorry for. It’s a sucky situation, but it sure beats staying in that kind of marriage, you know? It’s also the reason I’m not interested in a relationship. I mean, there are many reasons, but that’s the biggest.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you.”

“What about you?” I didn’t want to chance her getting in another question I’d feel obligated to answer. “You said you’ve recently split with your ex. What’s your story?”

“It’s complicated.” That was all she said, as if it answered all my questions and cleared everything up.

I waited a few more seconds, hoping she’d add something, but still, she gave me nothing. It seemed I’d have to pry information out of her, and it made me wonder if her humor was nothing more than a mask to hide her secrets. “Okay, I’ll give you that—for now. Was it serious? And how long ago did you break up?”

“Three years ago.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that she only answered one of my questions. “Three years? I thought you said it was recent.”

“That’s such a relative term.”

I opened and closed my mouth so many times, but nothing came out. For the first time in my life, I was speechless. I couldn’t decide on what I wanted to ask or say first, so we ended up spending a few moments without speaking.

“Oh, crap. Did I lose you?” Her voice moved further away, and I could only assume she pulled the phone from her ear to check the screen, thinking I’d hung up.

“No, I’m still here.”

“Good, I was worried for a second there that the call failed. My phone isn’t the best. This old piece of crap frustrates the heck out of me.” Her avoidance of cuss words was obvious and brought a smile to my face.

“Frustrates the heck out of you? Damn, girl. That must be bad.”

Her laugh was soft and airy, genuine if not slightly shy. “Would it be better if I cursed like a sailor? I’m sure other people would have a problem if…if the children I care for started repeating what I say.”

“Yeah, that probably wouldn’t be a very good idea.”

“So, you don’t have kids?” Her question was effortless, so easy that if I closed my eyes, I could’ve believed this woman had been in my life forever. There was a gentleness to her voice, and if I’d let it, it could’ve carried me away until I no longer cared about her history or background check.

“No. And honestly, if I did, there’s a good chance they’d sound like sailors.”

She was quiet for a moment, and I started to question what I’d said to make her stop talking.

Another horn honked, and it reminded me of her sitting outside. “Why again did you have to leave your room to answer my call? So far, you haven’t screamed like a banshee or made any shrieking sounds. I don’t understand what thin walls and no TV has to do with you going outside to talk.”

“That’s because I didn’t want to scare you off yet.” She giggled and added, “My roommate, Stevie, is in her room with her boyfriend. I think he’s tired of me sleeping on his couch, so I didn’t care to give him any more ammunition to kick me out before I find a place.”

Now I just felt like a prick. “You’re sleeping on the couch?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s a small place, and there’s only one bedroom.”

“Is it at least a pull-out couch?”

“I wish, but no.”

I grumbled to myself, hating the thought of anyone not having a bed to sleep on. I guess a sofa wouldn’t be that bad, but it was clear Jade needed somewhere to live. “Where were you living before?”

“My mom’s house.”

Her short answers were starting to feel a whole lot like a game of cat and mouse. “Why go from there to a couch? Did she kick you out or something?”

A sigh flooded the line, but just before I thought she’d brush me off again, she started talking. “My mom has become more and more difficult to deal with. I can’t stand her husband, and it seems like he’s always whispering in her ear, telling her what to do when it comes to me. It’s like she can’t even think for herself anymore. I finally got fed up and left. My best friend, Stevie, offered me her couch, so I took it.”

“I thought you said you’re close with your family?”

“It’s hard to explain. I love my mom, and I can get along great with her, but my stepdad and I are like oil and water. And as long as he’s calling the shots and interfering in my relationship with my mom, I don’t want to have anything to do with them.”

“And there was nowhere else to go but to your friend’s couch? You said you have family on the island. Who lives over here?”

“Oh, um…my aunt.” That was such a lie.

“And why can’t you live with her?”

More rustling came through the line, followed by a full exhale. It sounded like she was about to excuse herself from the conversation, but to my surprise, she didn’t. “She’s old. She doesn’t want someone in their early twenties living with her.”

I was well-trained at my job and had been doing it for years. One of the things I was best at was reading people, a human lie detector. When she had avoided questions earlier, I didn’t push. Her hesitancy didn’t necessarily indicate deception considering she didn’t know me. Not everyone can open up to a stranger about personal matters, so I’d passed it off with the intention to uncover the truth at a later time. But this…this was most definitely a lie. The question became, what was her reason for it? Most people don’t make up stories for the hell of it—it’s generally to hide something.

I just had to figure out what that something was without alerting her that I was aware she wasn’t telling me the truth.

“I’m sure you’d be her dream roommate. You go to bed early, you’re single, and you work as a nanny. What’s there not to like?”

“Well…she lives in a retirement home, and they have rules against anyone under a certain age living there. It doesn’t matter how early I go to bed; it doesn’t change the fact I’m twenty-two.”

That made sense, except there weren’t any such places around here. “She lives on Geneva Key?”

“Yeah.”

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