This series happens once a week. In order to understand what’s going on in the series, be sure to read the column, in order.
TREY
I wasn’t expecting the call.
It came in between writing this dating series and getting back to work.
It was my coworker.
She was crying and still clearly furious, “Do you know that bastard was dating four other women?”
Whoa.
“I’m not really surprised.”
She explained that after we’d left the bank she’d called a friend and another co-worker of ours and he’d been dating someone else at our job. Apparently, all the women got together to compare notes, discovering they’d been in faux committed relationships with a “busy” man.
That chaotic evening, after being confronted by Trey’s “girlfriend,” I pulled my co-worker out of the bank and pleaded with her not to make a scene. She cried all the way home and I suppressed the urge to tell her that I understood how she felt.
Trey wasn’t a loss. I knew something was up with him shortly after we’d begun dating. I was expecting something, I just wasn’t sure what.
Sometimes, it feels good to be on the outside looking in. It’s like watching yourself in a later stage, while you friends are going through things. It’s a warning, a beware, a this-could-be-you.
I hadn’t had time to fall hard for Trey, considering I was seeing two other men and spending more time with Edwin.
Thank God.
CHRISTOPHER
The voicemail was the most awkward thing I’d ever received.
“Hello. Erica right? It’s me. Christopher’s mom. I’m sorry if you felt some kind of way about our approach with our son, truly it’s our business, but we’ll be in NYC soon and we’d love for you to come and have dinner with us. Chrissy has been pouting, ever since you left.”
I took all my identification out of my drawer: passport, social security card, I.D. Yup. I was 27 years old.
Did this slip this woman’s mind?
Did she have no respect for her son’s independence and adulthood?
I respectfully declined, by never calling back. Because if I had to give her a piece of my mind? Whew…
EDWIN
I hadn’t spoken to Edwin since our tense phone call.
Yet, here he was, on my doorstep, 11pm at night, begging to come inside. I came outside and closed the door behind me. I had a good writing vibe happening in my house and I wasn’t going to let him ruin it.
He seemed taken aback, “You’re not going to let me in?”
I nodded and let him continue.
“I’m sorry about what’s been happening with us. I’m going through a lot at home, right now. I’m not touring as often as I’d like to. I’m not making what I thought I would be. I can’t maintain my mortgage.”
I felt sorry for him and felt my defensive stare soften, “I’m sorry about that. You think you’re going to lose your home?”
“I’m absolutely sure I am. It’s probably going to go down next month.”
“Wow. What are you going to do?”
Edwin looked to the lights coming from my window and then looked back at me. I knew what he was about to say.
“I figured I could kick it with you for a while.”
I looked down at my feet, annoyed and sad for him at the same time. I spent three years cohabitating with a man that left me for someone that was less ambitious. He said I was too busy and didn’t have enough time for him.
Yeah too busy paying our bills, after he lost his job…
The recollection was enough to force my statement out, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I looked up at him and heard him preparing to respond, when in the corner of my eye, I saw Christopher approaching us….
