Chapter 11: Coming Unstuck

I should have been able to see it coming. I should have been able to predict it ... but ... I didn't. Over the next eighteen months, the bond among the five of us evolved almost the way a marriage would. There was the "getting to know you" stage, the "sense of comfort" stage, and the "established routine" stage. The idea that our mutual relationships would be equal was the first to fall by the wayside. We weren't equal, and so we didn't behave equally.

It didn't seem to be a problem for the first year, but gradually, I could see the unity of the group begin to change. The first to break from the mold was Lexi. She came to us one evening and asked for a meeting.

"You guys ... I don't know how to say this," she began haltingly. "There's this man I know. We were very close a few years ago, but he moved away when he got a new job. I almost went with him. Anyway, he's back, working at Boeing in Everett. He called me the other day at work, taking a chance I was still at Black Gold. I'm going to meet with him this weekend. I want to find out if there's still something there. See if we can maybe get back to where we were."

"That's wonderful, Lexi," Sue exclaimed. "Is this Mike ... the guy you used to talk about?"

She nodded shyly. "Yes. I nearly fainted when he called me and told me he's living near here now."

"Good luck, Lexi," I said as the other three all gathered around her, wishing her well.

"It's going to cause a problem, isn't it?" Lexi said when the hubbub died down. "I mean, I might be moving and I'd have to sell my share in the duplex if this works out."

"Don't worry about that," I said immediately. "I'll buy your share. It's a good investment."

"Oh ... I didn't think of that," Lexi said, still a little shook up with the enthusiasm of the group. "You guys have been so good to me, I hate to think about leaving, but ... well ... if Mike hasn't changed ... and ... he still feels like he did..."

"Don't worry about it, Lexi," Jan said. "Follow your heart. Do what's best for you. Don't worry about us. We'll still have Gabe," she chuckled.

And that was the beginning. Lexi moved in with Mike a month later, and two months later, she announced they were getting married in August. She intended to keep her job at Black Gold, since it was only a twenty-to-thirty minute commute from her new home. I was happy for her, especially since I wasn't about to lose a valuable employee.

But that happiness and stability didn't last very long. Lori's mother fell ill and Lori was called away to help her. Her father had died some years earlier and her mother was living alone in an apartment in Helena, Montana. At first she thought it would be temporary. Just a leave of absence would do, we thought. It didn't turn out that way. After six weeks, she let us know that she wouldn't be able to return for the foreseeable future and forwarded us her resignation.

We were fortunate that one of the young hires from college wanted the opportunity, and Sue agreed to train her on the job. Heather Stasiuk had taken some accounting courses and was able to deal with the pricing and estimating software we used. Sue was confident that she would be able to assume all of Lori's duties within a few months.

Of course, that presented a larger problem. We now had the remaining three of us living in both sides of the duplex. We sat down and had a discussion about our options. It seemed the consensus was that if we could find a "quiet couple," we might rent one side and live in the other. The going rental rate in our neighborhood would more than cover the mortgage and utilities. Once we made our decision, Jan placed an ad in the two media outlets and we waited to see what kind of response we got.

Our asking rate on the rental was higher than any young couple or students could likely afford, so we hoped we would find a mature couple that would be good, quiet tenants.

"How are the responses to the ad coming?" Sue asked Jan on Sunday evening.

"A fair number. I'm going to phone some of them and see if I can get a feel for what kind of people they are. If I think they might be okay, then I can let them see the unit and we can decide after meeting with them."

"Sounds sensible," I said, noting Sue's nodded agreement.

Sue began her phone inquiries on Monday evening and on Wednesday, had a list of five possible renters. She intended to invite them over on the weekend and we could all get to meet them. Two were scheduled on Saturday afternoon, another on Sunday morning, and two more on Sunday afternoon.

By Sunday evening, we had two likely possibilities and sat down to discuss and decide.

"The older couple look pretty responsible," Jan said. "He's got a decent job and she does some work from home. Nothing that would cause us concern, though. It's some kind of computer based web service."

"She updates websites for established clients," I said. "Lots of people have websites that don't get kept up-to-date and become less useful. It's a good idea and she probably does fairly well with it."

"What about the other ... couple?" Jan asked.

"Well, having two gay men as our neighbors wouldn't bother me," I said. "Besides, I wouldn't have to worry about them stealing you two away from me," I laughed.

Jan blushed and turned away, but Sue gave me a dirty look and waved me off, as if I was nothing but a pest.

"Does it matter which one we choose?" Jan asked.

"Not to me," I volunteered.

Sue was shaking her head, indicating it didn't matter to her either.

"Toss a coin?" I suggested. A shrug and a nod later, I fished in my pocket and pulled out a quarter. "Heads for the older couple, tails, as you might imagine, for the gay guys."

"Smart ass," Sue said with another look of disgust. It seemed my sense of humor wasn't impressing her.

I tossed the coin and it came up heads.

"Okay, it's the older couple. Would you give them a call, Jan?"

She headed for the phone and five minutes later she returned with a curious expression on her face.

"Looks like it's the two gay men," she announced.

"What happened?" Sue and I asked, almost in unison.

"They say they found another place that was more to their liking. They didn't go into any detail, but they've decided to take it over ours."

"Humph," I said. "Well, at least we have an acceptable option. Might as well give them a call, Jan."

She was back in a few minutes with a sheet of hand-written notes.

"Okay," Jan said with a decidedly happier expression. "They're happy as hell that we chose them, and I have their details here. We'll get together tomorrow evening and have them sign the lease and go over the financial details. They can move in at the end of the month, so that works for us."

"What are we going to do with all the extra furniture?" Sue asked. "Some of it belonged to Lexi, but she didn't want or need it."

"Store it for now, I guess," I shrugged. "How much of what we have here belongs to Lori?"

"Not much," Sue offered. "A bed, dresser, night tables, a couple of chairs. We should store them too, just in case Lori wants them."

At that was what we did. We needed a larger, heated storage area to house all my things, Lexi's and Lori's as well. Luckily, the manager of the storage facility had something that suited us and we didn't have to transport anything to another location.

It took a couple of months to get used to new people on the other side of the unit, but we got along with them very well, as it turned out. They were delighted that we held no prejudices about them, unlike many of the landlords they had encountered. Brian, the older and larger of the two men, was an avid gardener and volunteered to keep the gardens on both sides in good order. His partner, Seth, was a cook by profession and we took advantage of his offerings whenever they occurred. They were turning out to be ideal tenants.

It was approaching Thanksgiving and what I thought of as the "really rainy season." I missed Lori and Lexi. They were great company and wonderful companions. I think Jan did as well. Sue was a little harder to read, but I didn't detect she was upset that the so-called harem had now dwindled to just two.

Seth and Brian volunteered to do the Thanksgiving meal and the three of us fought like tigers to resist their offer for all of three seconds. Seth had replaced the stove that came with the unit with a much larger gas unit with a double oven. The stove that was originally in the unit was now in our storage unit. He also added a larger refrigerator-freezer, and when I looked in it, it was full. The original fridge joined the stove in storage.

The dinner was incredible and I'm sure I weighed ten pounds more in the aftermath. Between the five of us, we consumed six bottles of wine, laughed like maniacs and the slightest bit of humor and generally had a great time with two very likeable men. It helped mask the loss of Lori and Lexi from our group. The alcohol helped loosen all our tongues and by the end of the evening, Brian and Seth knew all about our living arrangements from the beginning to the present day.

Black Friday was well named. We (all five) used it to repent our sins and swore off alcoholic beverages for the balance of our lives. It wouldn't last, of course, but it was a painful lesson to me about the limits of my indulgence. On the other hand, weeks later we were recalling Seth's meal and some of the stories we swapped.

I had chosen not to go back to San Francisco until the Christmas-New Year's break. Something wasn't quite right in our happy household. I couldn't put my finger on it, but the feeling was there, and it wasn't going away. I thought a week away from Sue and Jan would give me a chance to think about it, but unfortunately, when I returned just after the New Year, I was no wiser.

Sue had become my confidant. We seemed to be in tune with each other and I found her very easy to talk to. I decided that I wasn't going to ignore my feeling and see if she could shed any light on it.

"Talk to Jan," she said when I explained my discomfort.

"Jan? Is she having a problem?"

"Talk to her, Gabe," Sue said without any further explanation.

I put it off, attempting to figure out just what Sue was trying to tell me, but I was still none the wiser. At last, the opportunity presented itself when we were the only two in the house and I approached her.

"Jan ... is there something wrong? Are you all right?" I asked in as gentle a voice as I could.

She burst into tears and left, almost running to her room. Now I was even more confused. I wandered into the kitchen and poured myself another coffee. I sat at the table wondering what in the world I was going to do. Was this a symptom of menopause? I knew emotional upheaval was common, but I had the feeling that this was something else.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, nursing my coffee, but sometime later, Jan reappeared, looking as though she had been put through the wringer. Her eyes were red and her face was drawn, making her look every one of her forty-two years. It was a face I had never seen before. She sat across from me at the table, and I watched as she struggled to talk to me. I waited.