Dean's World

Chapter 12

I talked to her a few times on the phone after Thanksgiving, but Zsallia kept saying she needed some time alone. I had all sorts of questions, but she just wouldn’t let me engage her in any long conversations. When I finally pushed her on the phone one night, all she said was, “I’m not in such a hurry now and I would hate to see you burn your bridges. I’ll see you when you have your affairs in order.” Then she made an excuse and hung up on me.

Typical.

Still, she was probably right anyway. The two weeks after Thanksgiving were a grind, what with quitting my job, then calming my wife’s horror over me quitting my job, then fending off my employer’s generous attempts to keep me from quitting my job. But the money “Miss Baker” was paying was far too good to pass up, and there was no way this could be a part-time gig anyway.

So it was a Monday in the middle of December when I finally saw her for the first time after Denver. I brought her a sack of groceries, and as I approached her suite door I noticed it was already open. I had called ahead as a courtesy, so I just knocked at the door jam, poked my head in—and froze. She was standing by the breakfast table smoking a cigarette and drinking a large glass of orange juice.

Standing. Not balancing on one leg. Standing on two.

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Methuselah's Daughter, A Novel

Commenting on Dean's World is a privilege, not a right. Dean is your host, you are his guest, and you should behave in that fashion. Dean is not your babysitter, nor is he your punching bag. Please remember this. In general, you are free to disagree with anyone on any subject you wish, but abusive behavior will not be tolerated.

Of course we all lose our tempers now and then. Dean freely admits to being imperfect in this regard, which is why regulars to this establishment will generally be cut more slack than people who we don't know very well.

Still: behave like an adult, or go find somewhere else to play. Thanks.