Avery Recites a Mantra… or Two

Jack and I stood face-to-face in front of the refrigerator. I froze. When I was young, my uncle in Milwaukee would take me and my cousins on camping trips. Before we ventured out into the wild, he would always remind us how to behave should we encounter a large predator.

“Remember,” Uncle Heinrich (the women—and 10% of the men—in my family are really into German guys. More about that later) would say. “Stand completely still. Sudden movements could lead to an unfortunate situation.”

Although we never had to put that lesson into practice, I’ve never forgotten it. Perhaps I was channeling it that morning. Perhaps if I stood completely still, Jack wouldn’t notice me. He’d graze right past me, through the kitchen and into the abyss (or suburbs) from whence he came.

No such luck.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he said to me. I figured the safest thing to do was to answer his question with another question.

“Why aren’t you at work?”

“I spent last night at a friend’s, and  took the day off so we could continue our conversation. Figured you’d have cooled off by know.”

I stifled the string of expletives that languished on my tongue. Now was not the time to begin another fight. What was that saying that Whitley Gilbert on “A Different World”, used to repeat? “Relax, relate, release.”

“I’ve spoken with my father,” Jack continued. “I’m moving in with him and Stan.”

I haven’t told you this, but, by this point, Jack’s father Rodney and his domestic partner Stan has long moved from Irving Park to a quaint little bungalow in—are you ready for this—Berwyn. Jack was leaving me, the cats and our fabulous condominium with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Navy Pier to live with two middle-aged wannabe Village People in BERWYN? I needed a drink.

He continued his telling me his plans as I headed for the bar. He’d been thinking a lot about the fact that we’d signed a contract on the apartment (Good to know!). He’d decided that we should speak to our landlord. Maybe he’d let us out of the contract if we could find another buyer (Get real!). If not, Jack’s okay with buy the place and living as—you’ll need to sit down for this—roommates.

Relax, relate, release.

“I’ll take care of it, Jack.” Those five words had become my mantra. You might even say it was the slogan of our relationship. I’ve taken care of everything since the beginning, so there’s no reason I should stop now that were almost at the finish line. No one likes a quitter.

I reached for the telephone and began dialing the landlord. How would I possibly explain this predicament to him?