Page 12 of Not My Problem

Yesterday I would have said that instalove was something that only happened in the movies. Today I knew I was wrong, because in less than twenty-four hours I’d fallen in love with this woman. And that was a huge problem. It was the wrong time, the wrong place, and I didn’t want to come into any potential relationship at a disadvantage. I literally had nothing to offer Gretchen and for the first time in my life, that bothered me. I wanted to give her the world.

So I stepped back, chest heaving, and settled back into my chair, avoiding her gaze while I struggled to sort out the wave of emotions crashing through me. Gretchen dropped into the other chair, and when I looked at her out of the corner of my eye she was staring into the yard, her face carefully neutral.

“I should take a shower,” she finally said. “Between my workout and the yardwork, I know I’m pretty ripe right now.”

She smelled fine to me, a mixture of plants and sweat and something that was just her, but I recognized an escape attempt when I saw one.

“I’ll put the glasses in the dishwasher,” I said.

After she left, I sat in that chair for a long time, thinking about everything that had happened in the last couple of months. Losing my mother, finding out I had a grandmother, finding my useless father, fleeing Chicago in a panic. And then there was Gretchen. I couldn’t even categorize her other than to say that she was the one good thing that happened to me in a while.

I was attracted to her, more attracted than I’d been to anyone in my life, and that kiss had only heightened those feelings. But I also liked her. She was a tough cookie, as my mother used to say, but kind and smart and generous. I wondered if we’d have a relationship if I decided to stay in Seattle. Or if these feelings were even real. Maybe it was just the proximity that was making us feel so attracted to each other.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my life yet, but I liked this city, or what I’d seen of it so far. When I decided to come here I figured that if I hit it off with my grandmother I’d stay for a while, maybe move here permanently. There wasn’t anything left for me in Chicago anyway. I wasn’t sure if I would have made the trip if I hadn’t gotten freaked out by my father though. I hoped I would have. I’d wanted to but with my finances the way they were it had seemed impossible. Until I was desperate.

Maybe I should pick up some temporary work while I was here, I thought. I had over two weeks until Jan came back, I couldn’t just sit around the house sponging off of Gretchen. I needed to pull my own weight. Be self-sufficient. Earn some money.

Armed with a plan, I headed inside to find Gretchen’s iPad.

Gretchen

Istood in the shower, one hand pressed against the tile as I held my head under the spray, letting the hot water sluice down my body. What was I thinking kissing Zoe? She was a stranger. A guest. My neighbor’s granddaughter. Young and vulnerable. It was wrong.

It hadn’t felt wrong though. It felt like the best damned kiss of my life.

I’d gone through a promiscuous period back when I was homeless. Most street kids engaged in risky behaviors to survive, and sex was a good way to stay warm, curry favors, and pass the time. I’d taken a self-imposed vow of abstinence when I went to college, determined to make the most of my scholarship and focus on what was important: a way to support myself and never have to rely on another person again.

Since I graduated I’d dated a few people. Somewhere along the way I realized that I preferred women, and I’d stuck my toe in Seattle’s very diverse lesbian dating pool. I’d had a few relationships, but things eventually fell apart. Somewhere between the three and six months mark the other person would tell me I was too controlling or they’d start talking about moving in together, adopting a dog or a baby, and I would just shut down.

It wasn’t that I never wanted to have a serious long-term relationship, it was more that I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who made me consider it. Somehow I knew that Zoe would make me consider it, and that was a huge problem.

By the time I got out of the shower I was shriveled up like a prune. I puttered around in my bedroom, reorganizing a drawer, running a duster over the dresser, fluffing up my pillows. When I couldn’t think of any other reason to stay hidden away, I came back into the dining room. Zoe was using my iPad, her face a mask of concentration.

“I hope it’s okay to use your iPad again,” she said, her tone slightly defensive as if I’d busted her doing something wrong.

“Go right ahead,” I said, sitting across from her and opening my laptop. “Are you watching more dyslexia videos?”

“No, I’m looking for a job.”

My head snapped back up. “You’re staying here in Seattle?”

My heart was thumping happily at that idea.

“I’m not sure yet but I thought I’d pick up some temp or on-call work while I wait for my grandmother to come back.”

I was surprised by her words. Did she want to stay busy or was she worried about money? Probably both.

“That’s a good idea,” I said neutrally.

I was scanning my email when I had a thought. “Oh! You know what? Our shelter is looking for on-call staff. The shelter manager was talking about it at our last leadership meeting. She said it’s hard to find good on-call staff who actually want to come in when she needs them.”

“What would that entail?” she asked.

“You watch the desk at the shelter, make sure no one comes in who’s not a client, like someone’s boyfriend or whatever,” I said. “Answer phones. Respond to emergencies. Mediate disputes between guests. Do some light cleaning and laundry. Enforce quiet hours. Monitor the bathrooms.”

“Monitor the bathrooms?” she asked curiously.

“Make sure no one’s doing drugs in there,” I clarified. “As I understand, it doesn’t happen often but some of our guests are early in their recovery – or haven’t quite decided to be sober yet – and our facility is drug and alcohol free so we can create an environment of recovery.”