The Seal Cove Theoretical Society by S.W. Clemens

Author:S.W. Clemens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Maeve Binchy, Garrison Keillor, comedic novels, small town fiction, beach reads
Publisher: Fezziwig Publishing Co.
Published: 2020-07-31T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Five

Moving In

SOMETIMES WATERSHED moments come with pomp and circumstance — a graduation, a marriage, a change of scene, a new job, a chance meeting, a fight. Other times they come with no fanfare at all. Our lives are filled with such moments when we went left, when we might have gone right. If the storm had not kept him up all night, if he had been alone on the boat, Gary might not have been tempted to move into the Abbott duplex just then, and his life would have taken another trajectory. As it was, Gary and Kyle Myron showed up on Emily’s doorstep slightly damp and carrying their belongings in plastic trash bags.

Luxury is a relative concept. For Gary, after living several months in the cramped quarters of his boat, having a queen bed, easy access to laundry and hot water, a shower, a dishwasher and a refrigerator constituted almost unspeakable luxury, and came as an immense relief. It was three times the size of his old studio apartment and for less money. His only worry was that Emily Abbott might realize her mistake and raise the rent.

“When can I sign the lease?” he asked as soon as Emily had let them in.

“I haven’t got one yet. I’m sure there’s a boilerplate lease on the internet. We can do that later.”

But Gary didn’t want to wait. He was afraid she’d pull out of the deal.

“Can I at least write you a check?” he asked. He knew that when money changes hands there’s a change of relationship as well. With money comes obligation and expectations, power and hierarchy, give and take.

“Later,” Emily said. “I have to figure out the prorated amount. You wouldn’t want to pay a full month’s rent if you’re not here a full month.”

“I never asked — how much is the cleaning deposit?”

“Oh, uh, would two hundred be too much?”

“No, I can do that.”

He knew that most rentals demanded a cleaning deposit and first and last months’ rent in advance, references, and proof of employment. Some even included an administrative fee. He just hoped his new landlord wouldn’t turn out to be as crazy as she was naive.

The two bedrooms downstairs were connected by a common bathroom. Gary took the back bedroom, formerly Mary’s sewing room, where the corner window afforded an oblique view of purple, cone-like Pride of Madeira flowers and a sliver of ocean beyond.

While Kyle parked himself in front of the TV, Gary did laundry and took a long, hot shower, mentally making a note to relinquish his live-aboard permit, buy groceries, and call Maria.

However, his first call was to Kyle’s mom, to tell her where to pick up her son. There was a long silence at the end of the line before she said, “You mean your son-of-a-bitch brother isn’t picking him up? He was supposed to pick him up. This is his week with Kyle. What the hell? I made plans. We’re not going to be here.”

“But Dave said...”

“I don’t give a shit what Dave said.

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