"Idid," he insisted. "You should've seen the look on this girl's face, like she didn't know whether to slap me or thank me."
I'd known Jeff since sixth grade. During the past couple of decades, he'd hardly changed. He was still tall and thin with light brown hair and a thing for wizards and elves.
But as far asIknew, he preferred toplaythem, not date them.
Jeff was big into D & D – or Dungeons and Dragons as most people put it. These days, he ran a popular podcast which chronicled a long-running D & D campaign with himself and a few other guys he'd met at the local college.
He was just telling me the story of his sister trying to set him up with a random candy store clerk – one who'd been dressed as a Christmas elf for the holiday shopping season. The story was nearly as crazy as Jeff's sister.
"Hang on," I said. "So this clerk – why would she thank you?"
"Because," Jeff said, "she didn't want to be set up any more thanIdid. You should've seen her face when Denise drags me into the store. I kid you not, she looked ready to bolt."
I could almost see it. "Hold up. Soyousay she's the wrong kind of elf andthenwhat happens?"
Jeff snorted. "You know Denise. She won't let it go, so I start griping about the girl's ears."
"Her ears," I laughed. "What was wrong with them?"
"Nothing," Jeff said. "They were as normal as mine." He leaned forward with a grin. "Which is what I complained about."
I shook my head. "Now I know you're full of it."
"The hell I am," he said. "I start whining that they're not pointy enough, you know, like elf ears." He snickered. "Man, you should've seen Denise. She wassopissed off."
From whatI'dseen, Denise was almost always pissed off. I asked, "But why doesshecare who you date?"
"She doesn't," Jeff said. "She just wants me out of the house."
Jeff and his sister were both still living at home. The way Jeff talked, it was a win-win. He paid for all of the utilities and had the whole basement to himself while his mom got extra money and someone to shovel the snow and mow the lawn.
But Denise? Allshegot was grief – at least the way she told it. The last time I'd seen her, she'd complained for nearly an hour about Jeff using up all the internet bandwidth – bandwidthhewas paying for.
As far asIknew, Denise wasn't paying anything at all.
Jeff's story made me think of my own living arrangement. Sure, it was unconventional, but only by today's standards. A hundred years ago, it hadn't beenthatodd to have extended family living under the same roof.
When Jeff left the table to snag a couple more beers, my thoughts turned to Gwen with her stroller full of kittens.She thought I was a bum.She hadn't said so, but the look on her face had told me plenty.
When we'd reached her aunt's place, she'd taken the pet-carrier off my hands and bolted into the house so fast, it was a wonder she didn't lose a boot in the process.
She'd stayed inside for less than a minute before returning to the front porch with the pet-carrier and a baggie full of Christmas cookies as a thanks for my help.
She'd also offered me a ride back home, which I'd declined because of how little she seemed to like the idea. Sure, she'd been polite enough with the offer, but the relief in her eyes when I'd turned it down had been pretty much what I'd expected.
We didn't exchange phone numbers or any other contact information.
After I left, I'd been planning to take another look at the stroller to see if it was fixable.
I never got the chance.
I'd arrived home to find the stroller already gone. Turns out, an old Chevy beater had pulled into the driveway maybe ten minutes before I'd returned home from my walk.
According to Grandpa, Gwen had bolted out of the car, grabbed the stroller off the porch, and threw it into her trunk so fast, you'd think the thing was stolen.
She must've driven thelongway to avoid passing me on the street.
The whole thing was funny as hell, and I couldn’t help but smile as I waited for Jeff to return. Call me crazy, but I was starting to think there was more to Gwen than met the eye.
