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When I told her, she raised an eyebrow.
“We’ve been together since high school.Literally,” Jackson said, clearly, inexplicably, annoyed.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to unpacking,” she said, still watching us curiously.
“By the way,” she said as she waltzed to our front door, again as if it was her front door. “Your grass is an inch and a half longer than regulation.”
Jackson and I looked at each other. “She measured?” he mouthed to me.
“I know you just moved in, so I’ll give you until tomorrow to come into compliance. Otherwise, I’ll have to fine you.”
“But we just moved in.”
“I know, that’s why I’m giving you until tomorrow—”
“But we don’t have a lawn mower yet.”
“A pair of scissors will do the job.” She slammed the front door and was gone.
I looked at Jackson, who was walking towards the kitchen.
“I need a drink,” he called over his shoulder. “Do you want one?”
“Yes, please,” I answered, trailing him, feeling like the survivor of a tornado or a hurricane who hasn’t yet surveyed the damage wrought and so has no idea what that particular visitation has cost them.
“What do you think of Kitt?” I asked Jackson as we brushed our teeth—our new master bathroom has double sinks, so we’ll no longer have to jockey for position to rinse and spit.
He rinsed and spit into his sink. “Let’s see, she’s lesbian, vegan, alcohol-free, angry—we’ll get along great!”
“Oh, she’s not that bad,” I said, moving to the toilet to pee.
“I sense danger,” he said.
“What?” I asked. As the sound of my peeing echoed off the honed marble floor and walls, I thought about how far we’d come.
“I said, ‘We in danger, girl!’”
“Oh, stop!” I laughed.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said, kissing my cheek.
“Give me a few minutes,” I said, shaking off. “I want to write in my journal.”
He shrugged.
“Wait up for me, though,” I said.
He looked at me and laughed. “Oh, someone wants to get laid.”
“Well, itisour first night in our new house. We need to celebrate.”
“Fine,” he said. “If I’m asleep, wake me.”
Wednesday, April 30, 2014, Janus—Kitt stopped by today to thank us for cutting the grass and to drop off a binder full of HOA rules and regulations. She sat on the couch and made small talk, which I always find exhausting. Finally, she said, “Well, I should be going…” while making no effort to get up and go.
“Yes,” Jackson said, standing, surprising me. He is rarely direct or confrontational.
“What do y’all do?” Kitt asked, ignoring him.
