Also Known as DNA by Kelli Jae Baeli

Author:Kelli Jae Baeli [Baeli, Kelli Jae]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781450599108
Google: 59EIj1ykJJQC
Amazon: B003CC1L3S
Publisher: Lesbian Literati Press
Published: 2010-02-18T23:00:00+00:00

~ 21 ~

The Good China is in Storage

Everything was teetering on the edge of some precipice that had somehow appeared in my life after nearly a year of unfettered bliss. I had almost stopped expecting things to go sour, and damned if they didn’t. In a big way. Phoebe’s betrayal was the last thing I expected.

I could not get my head around it no matter how hard I tried. It was just as unreal to me as the temporary death of my newly-discovered sister.

So after calling Ginger, but then realizing I was not only interrupting their intimacy, but that my news would ruin what they might be enjoying, I just decided I needed more time to think and be alone.

After a night in an Old Colorado City hotel, built to look like log cabins, I had driven back to Denver, and picked up a newspaper, quickly locating a place on Hooker street, in a dubious part of town. I hoped the street wasn’t named for the occupants.

All I could think of to do was get a place to live and try to rebuild from the emotional rubble. There was no question in my mind that this betrayal was the unforgivable variety, so it would do me no good to stay in a hotel, as if I could go back to her. It was obvious, I wouldn’t have been welcomed anyway. Phoebe had made her decision. Albeit, one she had not consulted me about, nor given any indication she was considering.

I had lived much more of my life in modest apartments and mobile homes than in pricey manors. The apartment just Northwest of the Capital Hill neighborhood was sufficient for my needs. Its main house was occupied by a woman barely alive.

At 98, Gertrude Willowby had every health problem imaginable, according to the private nurse who cared for her around the clock. A wayward son supplemented the old woman’s insurance by mail, and seemed to care little for his mother other than that.

The nurse had taken care of all the details in renting it to me. It was simply a matter of taking my money and giving me a key—the nurse didn’t bother to ask for references or proof of employment, or even to show me around. It was a room not much different than Ginger’s guest house, except not as upscale. Not upscale at all, really. Downscale would be more accurate. But it was cheap, and I required that. So I paid the $600 per month and moved in. And when the process only took a few hours, I made a bitter joke to myself that everything I owned would fit in a Dumpster. I was back in the same boat with my wayward sister.

The apartment was not quaint. The once-white paneled walls were now yellowed with age and neglect. The apartment was not cozy either. I knew, because I had looked it up in my dog-eared dictionary, just in case my reality-check was fading. ‘Enjoying or affording warmth and ease’ was not accurate.

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