Alive on Arrival: Chapter 22

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22

Down in the basement, I inhale the familiar odor of must and damp walls. The space is partially finished and used to be Harry’s fun room when he was growing up. When he was in high school, he’d sometimes have the neighborhood kids over for little parties. I’d allow them some beers so long as they lived close by and were walking home. There was never any trouble. I could always trust Harry to be a good son. I still can.

Patty makes up a bed for me on the old couch. I can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she says.

“I’m reminded of all the times I slept down here when you’d kick me out of the bedroom,” I say. “I think I’m more familiar with sleeping on this old lumpy couch than I am with our old bed.”

My ex grins, looks into my eyes.

“We were never mad at one another for long,” she says, her grin turning into a full-blown smile. “I rather liked it when we made up.”