Sourdough. Last night, that he made yesterday. He was supposed to come the night before but had run out of the meds he takes to manage these intense migraines he gets (and his blood pressure) and was feeling a headache coming on. Spending time Monday with his son and daughter-in law was a huge, big deal on top of starting the new job and all the other stuff.
He is having a heck of a time finding a doctor taking new patients. In the end he went to an emergency room and after 4 hours there and the headache not getting worse, he bailed and went home, unseen. The last text I got from him was basically telling me not to be upset. (Yes, we need to have the talk about him telling me how to feel and how “it” doesn’t work that way, but texting is an extremely inefficient form of communication.)
There was a mention of him coming over after work, he gets off at 2PM yesterday afternoon but I was teaching a 4PM class which I told him I wouldn’t be home until after 5PM. I texted him a picture of the new echinacea that is starting to bloom in my garden that we bought together and a note saying I understood and then no contact for basically 24 hours.
Because this League stuff was not abating and I had all this incoming stress I was like oh gosh, he is ghosting me. Something came up with his son or any number of other crazy scenarios I managed to let float up to the top of my distracted head.
Geez, woman, could your insecurities on the eve of your 72nd birthday be more prevalent? Thank the goddesses I had class. It was like a sanctuary. Another student fell asleep during the relaxation, and they all looked so relaxed after.
I come home, not a word, I go okay, fine he is not coming and then the League emails about the City contract started up again. Something absolutely had to be done by end of business today or… and could someone explain why I was the someone who had to do it? So much international travel going on…
Right in the middle of this I get a text from Mr. B. “Hey you, I am on my way. My phone is almost dead. I am dirty lol.”
Pause. How many emotions can a person have at any one time?
I did what I could, contacted the appropriate people but having been thinking about what Freyjah said her recent post about not apologizing I very deliberately did not apologize for the fact that I was not available this morning and gave everyone in country that needed to know the phone numbers and contact info and left them to figure it out.
Then I texted back to Mr. B. “I have a shower”.
As far as I can tell “they” did figure it out. The contract is supposed to be signed in the next two hours. p.s. It was! Be still my heart. We were able to sign the darn contract.
And soon after all that he shows up. He always texts me when he gets to the door to say he is here. This happens with deliveries too. No one rings the doorbell anymore. I don’t carry my phone around with me in the house, you know and so it is a bit annoying. I look out the window and see him crouched down trying to throw things at my window to get my attention. He didn’t even know I had a doorbell and the whole thing was so absurd, I just started laughing.
I guess the doorbell is going the way of the landline.
He did take a shower and charged his phone, and I fed him raspberries and blueberries fresh from the garden and he told me about the job, and his son, and I told him that I thought he had ghosted me and we talked about checking in and trust and a lot of other things. The most astonishing thing was that Carlo let him touch him. He even rubbed up against Mr. B’s beard. (Mr. B. has a very short ginger beard.) They were tentative but curious about each other. He is a dog guy.
He had to leave for his curfew. We have a plan to spend the afternoon and evening together tomorrow on my birthday. I don’t think he is going to let me down on this.
You know how when a new business partnership is advertising and they say, “a combined so many years in business here to serve you.” Well between the two of us we have a combined something like 32 years of no intimate contact.
There is a lot of “learn by doing” going on.
It is kind of fun.
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