The Houseguest

The house was in chaos. The queen of the house was in full force commanding this underling and that into motion. Chores needed doing. Bedrooms needed cleaning, or at least picking up the clothes blanketing the floors there. A special guest was scheduled to arrive, and soon. The house must be put in order for their visitor. In order, or there would be consequences. Consequences the lady of the house was loathe to pay.

Russ Henley marveled at this yearly fuss his wife Jodi placed on their happy little family. The kids, like most kids, were less circumspect, feeling this annual tradition had lost most of its sparkle. It had become a trial to be endured, rather than the gay festivity that their mother insisted they would enjoy.

“How long is she staying this time?” Russ steeled himself for the answer. It had been two weeks of hell the last time she had visited.

“Two weeks.”

‘Damn!’ Russ whispered to himself. It had been a sore spot in their marriage.

Jodi’s aunt, Aunt Corine, had been like a second mother to the young girl, Jodi. Her own mother had passed soon after Jodi’s birth and the young child had relied on the aunt for an upbringing.

Corine had indeed provided for the youngster, but Jodi had found her methods a bit strident. It had been tough, but it had resulted in the beautiful life that Jodi now enjoyed so she couldn’t fault her aunt too severely. It was a small price to pay to throw her family into the feverish stew of angst and chaos for two weeks every year. Aunt Corine had given, and now it was Jodi’s turn to repay, in Jodi’s eyes.

Not in Russ’ eyes, however. The middle-aged man of some success found Aunt Corine’s personality a bit onerous and yes maybe at times a bit odious. The lady to him was a bitter old maid with abrasive social skills and total lack of empathy for the sufferings of others. She might have made a good serial killer or politician; he mused to himself.

But what really got to Russ, besides the ever-present loathing to be in the same room as the repugnant house guest, was the way it affected his wife. The anxiety he saw in her eyes and the frenetic way she tried to compensate by somehow measuring up to Aunt Corine’s standards, made him a little angry.

“She’s doing it again.” Russ and Jodi’s daughter, Emily, found her father drinking a coffee on the back porch.

“She’s making us clean the stuff between the tiles in the bathroom shower!” Their son, Cody, now. “With a toothbrush!”

“I know, I know.” Russ didn’t have a good answer for those. “Aunt Corine is coming.”

“Bah!” Cory spat his frustration. “Again!?”

“Yes, again.” Russ took a sip of coffee. “You guys know how much she means to your mom, right?”

“I guess.” Emily.

Russ held his arms wide to gather his kids in for an embrace. The kids folded their arms and refused the invitation. “Mom does so much for us the whole year, we can do this for her can’t we? It’s only for two weeks?”

“Two weeks!” Cody stamped his feet. “Two?”

“That’s almost our entire summer break!” Emily hissed the words.

“Now, now. We’ll still have time for some summer fun after.”

“Bah!”

“Hrmmmppph.”

The kids left.

÷

The front door opened, and Jodi stepped through the door, carrying two extra-large suitcases. Behind her the doorway darkened with an extra-large person. Russ had to chuckle at the sight as it felt a bit like an evil presence had entered their abode. Not evil, per se, but Aunt Corine had been retrieved from the airport. The suffering was about to begin.

“Hello, Aunt Corine.” Russ took the bags from his wife.

“Hmmm.” Aunt Corine removed her raincoat. It was bright and sunny outside. “Missed you at the airport.”

Now Russ was almost one hundred percent sure that he had not indeed been missed at the airport and that the mention of it had been designed to show Aunt Corine’s disappointment in his behavior generally. Knowing this to be only the initial salvo in a passive aggressive two weeks to follow, Russ decided to let it pass. He climbed the stairs of the house to place the older ladies’ bags in her room.

After the luggage had been sorted, the man of the house crept downstairs, hoping to escape to the back porch and avoid any of the unsavory conversations he knew to be in his future. It was not to be.

“Oh, there you are.” Jodi motioned him into the living room.

Aunt Corine and Jodi were standing in front of the glass cabinet that held Russ’ collection of antique miniature automobiles. He had quite a few beauties ranging from a pristine condition 1957 Bel Air to a favorite 1968 Camaro. Corine had his Rolls Royce Phantom in her hands, rolling it around to better evaluate the piece.

“A bit childish don’t you think?” Corine thought herself an expert in all subjects and so commented, “The seats are plastic, not leather. Not entirely accurate, is it?”

“Well, it is just a miniature. Exact detailing is always going to be a problem there.” Russ took the car from her and placed it back in its place on the top shelf of the cabinet. “I’ve been collecting them since I was a kid.” Russ was proud of his collection.

Having moved to the great bay window at the front of the house, Aunt Corine wasn’t finished with her assessments. “Ugh. You can do better than this.” This she aimed at Jodi while fingering the drapes framing the bay window.

“I got those on sale. There’re cute, right?”

“Hideous.” Aunt Corine scowled her distaste. “Maybe if someone wasn’t wasting your extra money on trifles you could afford some good ones.” This she uttered while holding Russ firmly in her gaze.

That tore it. Russ had had enough of Aunt Corine for this visit. Time to go into survival mode. Running up the stairs to the bedroom, he retrieved a laptop from his work desk there. Grabbing a book to read and a pen and paper, the suburban survivalist headed back down the stairs.

Corine and Jodi were in the kitchen starting the preparations for the dinner of the day. There was a kerfuffle of sorts underway. As Russ had experienced, a black cloud always seemed to follow Corine wherever she went. This fabricated storm whirled about the recipe for the mac and cheese.

“No, you have to use flour.” Corine investigated the pot.

“I’ve made this a million times, and it always come out good.”

“You need flour.” Corine dumped three large spoonsful of the white powder into the pot.

Now Jodi’s mac and cheese was a legend in the household. The kids loved it and so did Russ. What made it even more special was the fact that Jodi only made it for special occasions, eschewing poisoning her family with too much milkfat, at least not regularly. Jodi’s husband knew that the flour was not only not needed, but it may also change the recipe in a bad way. A way that he and the kids would probably later lament.

Not wanting to get into yet another trial of wills with their guest, Russ opened the cabinet above the stove and rummaged around. What he sought was the bottle his neighbor had gifted him the Christmas before. Yes, there it was. Grabbing a coffee cup from the counter, Russ headed to the back porch, his arms full of the paraphernalia that would keep him entertained there and free from the drama unfolding inside the house that, frankly, he and his wife financed and managed.

Now Russ wasn’t a drinking man, but he decided today might be a good day to start. Opening the bottle of bourbon, the man now in the beginnings of relaxation poured a hefty half cup or so. Taking a rather large swig, the would-be drinker choked as the liquid burned in its way down his throat.

It wouldn’t be long, however, until the brown liquid thus consumed would give the man a general feeling of warmth and safety. Life had become bearable again. Russ opened his laptop and searched for videos of funny animal antics.

÷

The next morning saw Russ moving slowly. A pounding headache and not a little bit of nausea reminded the aging man why he didn’t overindulge too frequently. Jodi stopped him as he gathered his things for work. Pouring a cup of coffee from the machine he noticed a lot of mac and cheese left over in the refrigerator as he retrieved the milk there.

“Corine needs your car today.” Jodi looked a bit apprehensive.

“Yeah, right.” Russ knew she knew that his car, a silver blue Nissan Z equipped with sport package and 400 hp 3.0-liter twin turbo V6, was important to him.

“I know, but my car is too large for her apparently.” Jodi’s minivan had seating for all the family and a birthday party of friends.

“Anyone who can’t drive a minivan shouldn’t be driving the Nissan. It’s a lot of car.” Russ had trouble handling it sometimes when he revved it up too high.

“It’s automatic, right? I mean I’ve driven it.”

“It can be driven just with the auto transmission but why would anyone want to?” Russ, obviously, was a bit of an automobile enthusiast.

“C’mon, she needs it to visit her sister east of town. You can use my car?” Jodi put on her sweetest smile there to try and seal the deal with a bit of sexuality.

“No.” Russ feigned a steely front, but the more Jodi cajoled the poor man the softer his stance became. The pounding in his head did nothing to strengthen his resolve. “How long will she need it?”

“Just until dinner. You can have it back when you get home from work.”

÷

Russ did return home from work that day only to see Corine step out of a police car as he pulled into the driveway. Jodi joined her and the two exchanged words. What puzzled Russ was that his Nissan was nowhere to be found. The presence of the police gave him the immediate idea that there was something bad happening. Why he had expected less from Corine he did not know, but it might have been through years of hard won experience.

Corine threw the car keys at him. “It’s at the mall.”

“The mall?” Russ couldn’t readily resolve the facts that his car should be at the mall and that Corine would be here with police transport.

“It had a little crash. I had the cops bring me back.”

“A crash? How bad is it?”

“Looks totaled to me.”

“Totaled?” Russ leaned against one of the pillars of the front porch. “Did you call a tow truck? Did you get the other guy’s insurance? Who hit who?”

“I’m fine, by the way. It’s your car, you handle it.”

“Me!? You … Me!?” Russ’ voice rose in both volume and tone. He was so filled with rage that he was having trouble formulating the words that would express that rage without punching their guest in the mouth. His parents had always taught him that a man never hits a woman.

“Here’s the copy of the accident report.” The police officer gave a pink piece of paper to Russ. “Better get it out of the mall parking lot before closing time or they might tow it themselves. Cost you more…” The policeman left.

When Russ found the wreck of his car at the mall he was still fuming. He feared he may boil over into a stroke or heart attack if h e didn’t calm down. The sight of his car did nothing to lower his blood pressure.

Aunt Corine had managed to hit the concrete base of one of the light poles there. How she could hit the only thing in a massive parking lot that was only partially being used was a mystery. Russ thought she may just be the anti-Midas. Everything she touched seemed to turn to … well … not gold. Let’s leave it at that.

Russ sat down on the pavement. Drops of moisture fell from his eyes.

÷

Russ was on the back porch the next day when his wife appeared with a plate. “Brought you some breakfast.” It was scrambled eggs with a toasted bagel.

Russ eagerly devoured the food as it had been a while since he last ate. “Fanks.” He said the word with his mouth full.

“Only twelve more days.” Jodi giggled a bit as she rubbed her man’s upper arm.

“Twelve days in hell: The Russ Henley story. It’d make a great horror movie.” Russ frowned.

“A classic. It could star Denzel Washington as the hero, Russ Henley.” Jodi giggled again.

“No one would believe it.” Russ forced an unenthusiastic smile. “I’ll be here on the back porch if you need me until then.”

“I’ll fetch the bourbon.”

“No thanks. I’m still a bit hungover if you can believe it.”

The tale of the terrors that Russ and Jodi’s houseguest visited on them over the next 12 days are too numerous to detail here. There was the plumbing situation that cost them $8000. (They had to re-dig their plumbing to the street.) Then there was the relationship with Russ’ boss that had needed to be repaired.

Suffice it then to end with the news the couple received the next Spring. It seemed that poor Corine had met her end accidentally falling from a cruise ship on a cruise to the Bahamas. Her sister was asking for donations to pay for the funeral. Russ sent her a check for $50.

Russ never uttered what everyone was thinking at the time. Everyone knew that Corine had fallen from the ship, but no one, not one, believed she had fallen by accident.