Imperfect Beauty

Actually, he has no trouble attracting female attention, even at his worse. That's because even in this horrible state of neglect, he's still better looking than 9/10ths of the population. And charming. But I repeat myself.

"If I say yes, you'll forget all about me and not come over anyway."

"No! I would never-! OK, maybe I would," he admitted chagrined.

"I'm not going to wait all night for you," I warned.

"No of course not."

"I didn't have plans, but I'll leave just to spite you," I threatened.

"Why you spiteful little bitch!" he exclaimed with a laugh.

The laugh was infectious. "You've got an hour. If your not hear by then, me and my hot pink toes are going to see a movie. Whether we can afford to or not!"

"I'll be there."

"I won't count on it," I said dryly.

"Hey! Don't be like that!" He sounded defensive and wounded. I rolled my eyes.

"YOU don't be like that and I won't have to. Now bye. You've got an hour."

"Slave driver," he complained before hanging up. I should write a book, How to Tame your Lin. There was really no way around it, he needed to be treated roughly if you were going to get any respect or compliance out of him at all. Trust me, I've tried nice. It just gets me ignored. He must be a secret masochist, because the more of a bitch I am, the more he comes back for more.

I'm not really like that, but it's a roll I play well. And I don't feel bad about it either. Sometimes being nice just doesn't work. And if you can't be compelled by nice, then it's your own damn fault if I have to resort to uber-bitch because it's the only thing that works. Hey, it's hard to be a woman sometimes. We have to use what we've got. Especially if it's something that usually works against us. I take great pleasure in the irony of those moments.

Would he show up? Who the hell knew. Who the hell ever knew with Lin. Some other pretty girl might catch his eye, and he'd be off chasing her skirt like some stray dog. But if he didn't show up, I was going to bed, despite what I told him. I was too tired and too broke to actually go see a movie. Hey, what a man doesn't know doesn't hurt him. That Lin walks all over my heart to easily as it is. I would be giving him no more extra ammunition tonight.

I resumed painting my toenails. Well, actually I had never stopped and was on the second to the last toe already. Those nails were so small, I really should have used a toothpick to do it. So in no time I was done and with nothing to do but sit there and literally watch paint dry.

I grabbed the clicker and started flipping through the channels. I've been told I channel-surf like a guy, barely stopping to see what‘s on before going to the next channel. Usually I stop were a guy would to, explosions or boobs. Hey I ain't to proud to admit it. Those are the things that tend to get my attention.

Only this time it was something else that I whizzed past and had to back click to see if I was really seeing what I thought I was seeing. Indeed! There was a news story about the new gallery, and they were showing my picture as what appeared to be the main illustration.

I had never felt so psyched. I had butterflies in my stomach all right. It was just the local news, but my painting has been shown and my name had even been said. It was a banner night for l'il old me.

I watched that but found that I had missed the majority of the story. It seemed favorable in tone anyway, so that was one good thing. It seemed that every were I turned, there was my painting. Maybe I really was on my way, just as my mother had told me.

That ended so I flipped over to some cartoons to pass the time. After an hour, my nails were good and dry and there was no sign of Lin, so I went to bed, thinking was the end of him for the night. How wrong I was. I was awakened to the sound of loud pounding on my door and opened my eyes to see that several hours had passes and it was the middle of the night. I threw on a robe and staggered out to see who or what was at my door, and sure enough it was Lin. He saw me and waved, so I gave up on sneaking back to bed and ignoring him.

"Are you drunk?" I asked in an irritated voice when he nearly fell into my living room.

"Just a little," he admitted.

"What the hell are you doing here at this hour?" I demanded in a grouchy but sleepy voice.

"Well you said you were going out, so I figured I'd wait till a bit later and I went down to the pub to pass the time."

"You are a shit," I said with the beginning of a grin. I don't know why I couldn't stay mad at him. "Get your ass over on the couch and lay down. And no throwing up on my carpet."

"Scouts honor," he said slumping onto my sofa.

"Phfft!" I dismissed his comment. I doubt he was ever a scout- they probably kicked him out.

We talked for a little while, after I locked up, about how his life sucks and how I'm the only one he can always count on- the kind of stuff you can always count on a drunk to opine about in the wee hours. I simply nodded and made sympathetic noises. I doubt that he would remember a thing I said in the morning, so what was the point?

"You can sleep here tonight," I told him, slipping his shoes off and covering him with a blanket.

"No no, I don't want to be any trouble sweetie."

That made me smile, drunk or not. "It's no trouble. You're no trouble- you're a friend."

"I'll be going here in just a minute or so," he promised. The next thing I heard from him was snores. He sure was one to fall asleep fast. He looked so oddly vulnerable lying there on my couch like that all passed out and barely conscious. I kissed him on the cheek and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"Goodnight snake charmer," I whispered as I flicked the light out and tiptoed to bed.

Amazingly I heard him whisper back, "Goodnight beautiful lady."

It took me almost as long as it had taken him to fall back into dreamland, and when I woke up, I had nearly forgotten that he was there until I rolled over and found him in my bed. "Lin, wake up!" I yelled at him.

"Who?! Wha-?" I wasn't buying it, but it was a convincing performance.

"Your in my bed. You know we can't do this. You gotta get up."

"I'm just sleeping," he protested. His body felt so warm pressed up against mine, I was tempted to let him win. But I knew him and I knew myself. I knew my weaknesses and he was one. "I'm going to the couch," I told him taking my pillow and comforter and leaving him with a sheet.

"Spoil sport," he mumbled, still feigning sleepiness.

I went to the couch and tried to sleep, but I was awake. Fortunately, he soon got out of bed and went to work in the kitchen making breakfast. It was my turn to pretend now. I turned toward the back of the couch and pretended to be sleeping, still hoping for a few extra winks. He could wake me when he was done. Yelling at him for wandering into my bed could wait until I had my coffee.

Before long, he came out of the kitchen calling out for me to wake up. "I made you breakfast," he said, balancing a plate stacked with toast, eggs and sausage with a glass of juice and a mug, steaming with fresh coffee. "I couldn't find a tray," he explained looking at his full hands.

"I don't have one," I replied, taking the coffee and blowing across it. "You can set that there," I directed him, pointing to a side table pushed next to the couch. He did, and then pulled a stool across from me and sat down.

"You're not going to eat?" I asked him, wondering why he was gazing at me in that funny way.

"I don't like breakfast."

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting. I've got some other stuff if your hungry," I said, trying to be hospitable.

"I can't eat this early in the morning anyway. I'll be ok. Try your eggs."

"You didn't poison it did you?'

He stuck his lower lip out in a pout and lowered his eyes petulantly. "Now why would you go and say something like that?"

"Sorry, you're right. That wasn't very nice." He looked up at me with a smile. Besides, if anybody was going to poison someone around here, it would be me poisoning you."

"Hey!" He squinted his eyes at me making a very childish face. I was tempted to tell him to be careful, or it would stick that way, but I was too tired for verbal sparing so I cut into my omelet with my fork. "Mmm" I mumbled over a warm delicious forkful. Lin looked pleased and proud.

"Sorry about crashing your place last night."

"It's not that you're in trouble for," I told him pointedly.

His look told me unquestionably that he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"You didn't like having me in your bed again?" His tone was between a pout and a tease. But he was also baiting me. He knew I liked it, and he knew that wasn't the point at all.

I looked at him sharply. "Don't push it," I warned.

"But don't you-"

"Don't!" I interrupted, shaking my head.

He decided that it was time to act contrite. "Forgive me?" he said, faking his most sincere repentant look.

I felt like rolling my eyes. Instead, I snapped at him semi-playfully, "Don't let it happen again!"

There it was, I had vented my frustration and he was off the hook. He knew it and I knew it. I also knew he would try something like it again- as soon as he got the chance.

I was willing to over look it because I was busy eating my breakfast. Besides, I didn't feel like fighting. I didn't even feel much like bawling him out. He knew that I wasn't giving in this time, and I knew that he wasn't giving up. There was no point in dwelling on it, the lines were drawn.

He was here, sitting across from me. He had prepared me a lovely breakfast. Life was good. "So what do you have planned for today?" I asked him.

"Well Jess is bringing the kids back from her mom's tomorrow, so it's my last night of freedom. I guess I'll go to Sparty's or the Dollar."

I shook my head at him. "She deserves better than you," I admonished.

He didn't even look ashamed, he just agreed. I had known Lin for a long time, way before he met and married Jessica Blain, making her Jessica Lowell. The few times that she had joined him and his gang at one of the bars he frequents she had seemed sullen and mousy. Unlike her husband, she wasn't social at all. I'm not sure why she always insisted on coming, other than to keep an eye on her husband. And if that was her goal, she was failing miserably.

I myself am not a regular member of his little circle of lost boys, but if you get around at all in this town, you run into Lin Lowell. Despite the often constant presence of his wife during the first year or two that he knew her, no one seemed to know much of anything about her. But one thing was certain. She didn't care much for me.

Among my fiends, old relationships are always considered water under the bridge. We certainly don't cling to pointless resentments against exes no matter what they might have meant in there time. Apparently, in Jessica Blain's world, previous girlfriends were viewed as a threat. Even though the rest of us knew that she should have been more concerned with the next conquest than with ancient history. In any event, she viewed me with suspicion, and I had never been to fond of her either. We were definitely not friends.

So it wasn't her, and it wasn't the generic principal that he was married that kept me from letting him make his move on me either. Pure and simple, it was trust. As a boyfriend, as a lover I just didn't trust him with what matters most in those relationships- my heart. But as a friend, and one in constant pursuit of something that, as an old girl-band once sang, he was 'never gonna get" things were just fine. I kept my wall up, and I was able to enjoy his worthwhile personal qualities. I realized that I still had something he wanted, and it brought out the best in him. But I also knew that it wasn't all an act. Sometimes it was hard to find, but he really did have some redeeming value as a human being and a friend, although he had very little (that I could see) as a husband.

As for Jess, I felt sorry for her sometimes knowing the kinds of things he was up to, but it never rose above the level of pity. As near as I could tell, she was walking through life with her eyes closed, being suspicious of all the wrong things and letting the real ones just slip by either unnoticed or ignored. It was hard sometimes to tell which. In recent years, she spent an awful lot of time visiting her mom, and I got the impression that she needed to be away from him almost as much as he wanted to get away from her. Why they even stayed together was anybodies mystery, but apparently they both got some kind of payoff from the arrangement. The rest of us- those who knew him however formally or informally- made our speculations but beyond that didn't get involved. As for myself, although I sometimes wanted to just ask him, I never did.

Across from me, Lin sat not looking in the least bit guilty. I wonder if he ever felt genuine guilt, or if in all cases that he showed it, it was only an act.

"So you got big plans for tonight. What about the day?"

"What are you kicking me out?"

"Of course not, you made me breakfast. You get to stay as long as you want." But I knew him, he wasn't going to stick around. Not for long.

"I thought I'd hang out here with you for a while. Maybe watch some TV or something and later this afternoon I'd go meet up with the boys for some pool or something."

"Killing time ‘till you can get sloshed huh?" I teased.

"You know me too well," he said rolling his eyes. I was supposed to take that to be some kind of denial. But I knew better. I smacked him with my pillow.

"Well, if you want to stick around here, you can help me with the dishes after breakfast."

I finished up and he accompanied me to the kitchen. "Is this anyway to treat a guest," he grumbled as he rolled up his sleeves.

"Your not a guest," I told him. "You're Lin." He understood what I meant. We had a unique connection. Not quite family but similar in that balance of familiarity and that love/hate quality that characterized our relationship.

I had been right that he didn't hang out for long. He was sweet and attentive- more so than he ever had been in the brief amount of time that we were a couple It felt good to be around him. He was funny, he made me laugh and he even listened when I had things to say. He'd always been a good listener, as surprising a quality as it had been long ago, I took it for granted now. We had lively conversation and he often got exited about the same things that I did.

So when the time came that he told me he had to go, I was really starting to wish he would stay. Of course I didn't say so, even though my insides were aching to keep him near me. Instead I shoed him out with the scathing comment, "I was getting sick of you anyway."

He kissed me on the cheek- I allowed it, and then he left. I stood in the doorway feeling sort of empty. I realized that I should use the time to my advantage and go work on my painting, but I just wasn't feeling it. I just wanted to grab a bag of chips and curl up with some comfort snacking. Unfortunately, there wasn't any snack food in the house, so I put on my shoes and headed out the door to the nearest Q.D.

Quality Dairy is the local convenience store. There's one on ever corner in Lansing and at least one in each town surrounding it. Here in East Lansing, we have a few and I am lucky enough to live nearby one of them. Q.D. is the place to go for milk, bread, donuts, coffee, ice cream, beer, cigarettes, snacks, candy and a myriad of other last minute essentials. Residence in this town don't know how to get along without it, and most of them have worked there at some point in their lives.

Some of the people who work at the Q.D. on my street are nice and helpful, but some of them surprisingly are not. One dude in particular always says ‘we're out' whenever I ask for anything I can't find on my own. He's never been any help at all, and for that matter, I always double count my change whenever he waits on me. I don't trust him at all.

There was a short red-headed girl who was working that day. I smiled at her and said hi. She's always been helpful and friendly, if a bit too talkative at times. At least she was friendly which is better than I can say for some of her coworkers. I really didn't need help finding anything today though. I grabbed a hand basket and filled it with a two liter of Pepsi and a large bag of Lay's potato chips. I was really in the mood for chip dip but they were out.

"You got any sour cream and onion in the cooler?" I asked as I approached the counter.

"Shipment comes in tomorrow," she said shaking her head.

"Oh well." I put my purchases up on the counter.

"Nice day, huh?" she said brightly as she rang up my order. I looked out and realized that the sky was a cloudless blue and the temperature was just a notch above warm.

"Your right, it is," I told her, smiling. "Maybe I'll go over to the park to eat this."

"You might want to get some cups," she said nodding toward the paper good isle. Beside me, the store was empty so I hopped over and grabbed the package and handed it to her to ring up.

Now that's what I call good customer service. "Thanks." I told her nodding toward my purchase.

"Yeah, I sure wish I could be out there," she said dreamily. "I don't get out until 10:00. The day will be over by then."

"Oh man, that sucks," I commented. "I know what you mean though, I should be inside painting right now, but I'm just not up to it."

"Oh, you're a painter!" she sounded interested, but I was hungry.

"Yeah, I'll tell you all about it another time. I gotta go, thanks a bunch," I took my bag and waved as I ducked out the door. She looked about as disappointed to see me go as I had been when Lin left. I felt a little bad about it, but when the sun warmed my body as soon as I stepped outside, I felt wonderful. I even whistled as I strolled over to the park and found myself a nice spot under a tree to spread out under.

I really needed to talk to Zoë, I told myself as I savored the salty taste of crisp fresh potato chips. They were by far my favorite snack food, even more so than ice-cream or other sweets. I am an amazing salt fiend. I pour it onto my food in amounts that shock my friends and concern my family. I've been warned about my arteries, my blood pressure, and water retention. I ignore them all. What life is worth living without salt?

Doesn't even the bible say, "you are the salt of the earth"? Would it say that if it weren't good? I also remember that salt used to be used as currency and it's even were we get the word salary, which is definitely a good thing but also reminds me that I should be working, because I don't make a salary.

I did however, just sell a picture, which is worth celebrating. I realize that I never even told Lin my good news, but maybe he already heard. What I really want to do though, is tell Zoë. I wanted to share my good news and find out what was going on between us.

As I savored the crunchy goodness of my top quality snack, I thought about the other night. It had been fun, but no questions had been answered. If anything more had surfaced.

I had confessed to Chase on the way back to Zoë's that I really didn't live with her. "I just figured it would make things easier with the transportation and all if I stayed at her place for the night. But it didn't seem important to explain all that at the time."

"That's ok," he reassured me. But I could see he was wondering how we were going to find any time alone if I didn't really have my own bed-room at Zoë's. I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but who knows it probably just looked like a drunken grin.

"Zoë's place is better than mine anyway. She's got tons more space." It was true. Zoë lived in a small house with a small yard, but it was still bigger than my little one bedroom apartment. In fact, in contrast it was like a mansion.