Abundance.
She types, a dexterous exercise to shift her point of view. There will be enough.
Enough space, enough money, enough time. There will be enough.
*
The past few days have felt like a free-fall. The news about Joy pushed me off a cliff. A week later, I am still falling. I cannot yet see where, or when, I will land.
Suspended in air, I try to brace myself for impact.
I don’t want this. I hate this. This is happening. I accept that this is happening.
As I fall, I concoct a plan: Operation Golden Girl. I imagine Joy in a 2024 remake of the 80’s sitcom classic. She plays the kookie hippie with a spiritual nature. Who do I need to speak to about a casting call for the other gals, preferably gals with a house and a room to rent? A home for Joy. …and her two cats.—“The cats are a problem,” my unhelpful side chimes in. We are all falling together.
Joy is falling too. This can’t be easy for her. When I think of her perspective I feel guilty about my own.
Of course she is welcome here! We will make it work. I say to myself and almost believe it. It is easier to believe things when they are hypothetical. Cha Cha, stop being selfish. Everything will be fine. Maybe this could even be a good thing!
I tuck my knees and add a flip to my fall. How could this be a good thing?
*
Five years ago, we started converting our single-car garage into a studio apartment. We added additional slabs of concrete to make floor space for a closet and small kitchen. Today, the bathroom is operational, the floors and walls are finished, and there’s a refrigerator plugged in. The closet is full, overflow from our storage-lacking 800 square foot house, and the would-be kitchen is otherwise occupied by Justin’s band equipment. No bed. No furniture at all. We’ve been stalled at this stage for about six months, but already the project has lost priority to the roof and backyard.
…Until now. Maybe Joy’s arrival is a sign.—It’s time to finish the studio.
Even if she only lives there for a short while. I hope she only lives there for a short while! I think Joy does too. The space is small. Smaller when you add two cats.
Everyone agrees, this is a temporary solution. No one knows how long “temporary” will be.
*
As I fall, the winds shift from denial to anger, then acceptance, and then anger again. No one can give me a date. They said, “30 days.” But starting when? They requested another thirty days for Joy. When will we find out if that’s been granted?
How many weekends are left, just me and my man?—There I go again, counting down.
I look up. I am soaring through the air. I am abundant.