Ancestral

Awkward

“Really? Helmut?” Ben seemed both excited and incredulous. “Mr. P. never mentions him, but sometimes when Miss McFiercesen has had a bit too much wine with supper, she’ll spit out his name as a kind of expletive. From what I can gather they were lovers once, but something went wrong, and she kicked him out. I’ve never been able to get any details.”

“Do you think he’s after money, or maybe the house?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” Ben spoke with his mouth full. “Maybe he just wants sex, who knows.” After he swallowed, he added, “I wonder if he’ll be there for supper tonight? That would be interesting.”

“It certainly would,” I thought

Helmut was still there when I returned from my walk and an extra place setting had indeed been added to the dining room table. At dinner Miss McFiercesen introduced him to the other boarders. “This is my old friend Helmut Cole. He needs a place to stay for the next few days and will be joining us. He will be staying in the study, so that room is now considered a private room, I expect you all to treat it as such.” We all nodded our agreement and muttered our welcomes. The meal was fairly subdued, with our hostess remaining more quiet than usual. We all followed her lead, limiting our conversation to general matters and shallow polite topics. When the meal was over, Miss McFiercesen unceremoniously retired to her apartment on the third floor, leaving us to entertain her new guest.

Those assigned cleared the table and washed the dishes, while the rest of us went into the living room to get to know our new housemate. Sylvia began by asking what he did for work. She was in her early thirties, recently divorced, and had been living here for about a year.

“A bit of this and a bit of that,” he offered smoothly. “My last job just ended. I worked security at a bar and they…umm…they downsized. Since I was the last one hired, I was the first to be let go. Then I heard there was a new construction site two towns over, so I thought I’d try for that. I didn’t think Phil would mind putting me up while I looked.” He was trying to save his own dignity by putting a reasonable gloss on everything, but it was pretty clear to me that he had no means of support and no place else to go. The conversation continued in an uncomfortable and halting manner until he realized that he could easily charm Heather and get the adulation he wanted.

Poor Heather was such an easy target, unlike Sylvia. Sylvia was not so easily influenced, having the inner strength to face her own bisexuality while married to a man, and bring that relationship to an amicable conclusion so she could begin exploring her attraction to women. She was not a man-hater and maintained a friendship with her ex, but she was closed to men right now, and found Helmut’s attempts at charm quite inadequate, if the amused smile on her face was any indication.

Heather, on the other hand, did not have those inner resources. At only twenty, she was in her second year as an undergrad, studying English Lit and History. She had no real focus and was fairly insecure, feeling she was too large to be attractive. Despite all we did to encourage her and assure her of her own worth, she couldn’t see it herself. As such, she found the cloying attention of a sexy daddy figure to be irresistible. I can’t say that I blame her, though. He was easy on the eyes, and exuded masculinity. Despite his display of crass machismo earlier today, I still could feel myself falling under his spell.

It was Ben who gave us all permission to get on with our evening plans. “Well, I’ve got some reading to do for class tomorrow. Nice to meet you Helmut, good luck with the job hunt. I’ll see you in the morning.” One by one everyone excused themselves. Even Heather managed to remember that she had a paper that needed attention and tore herself away, giggling as he unbelievably kissed her hand goodnight.

Once she was gone, he turned to me and chuckled. “this could turn out to be an interesting stay.” I saw the same smirk he threw at Mr. P. while fondling his ass.

I did not smile at his insinuation. “We all love Heather, and we won’t let anyone hurt her.” I was blunt and to the point. He was a good ten years my senior, about six inches taller than me, and much more muscular, but I stared him down with menace in my eyes. He knew I had seen his unsavory greeting of Mr. P. earlier and realized that I was not going to fall for his smooth act.

“Of course. But I do think she enjoys the attention.” He was trying to justify himself and I knew it, but I also knew I had to give him a chance and shouldn’t make a snap judgement just yet. After a brief and awkward silence. he asked, “How do you like living here?”

“It’s interesting,” I said. “I like the mix of people here and living in a communal setting has its benefits. Not as much privacy as I was used to living alone, but people to talk to and someone waiting for me to get home at night. I like it.”

He smiled. “I did too. Phil and I were partners when he bought this, you know.” He relaxed into his chair and nursed the last of his wine from supper. “I lived here with him on the third floor for over ten years before…” He seemed to become lost in a painful memory.

“Before what?” I asked after a long moment.

He shook himself back to the present and replied, “umm…Before I left.”

“Why did you leave?”

He didn’t answer but rose and moved toward the kitchen. “Does Phil still make that orange lemonade cocktail he used to mix up?” He opened the fridge and looked for some. “I guess not.

I followed him in and offered, “He made an interesting cocktail for Easter this year, but it wasn’t orange, more purple with some fizz. I think he only does it for special occasions, though.”

He poured himself a little more wine and sat at the table. “Yeah, that’s not it,” he said absently. We sat in silence again as he scanned the room, a mixture of nostalgia and regret on his face. He took a deep breath and sighed. “So how long have you been here?”

“Not long, just a few weeks. I just started working at The Patterson last week.”

“What do you do there?” he asked still lost in his own thoughts.

“I’m a curator and educator. I set up the monthly displays in the rotating gallery and train the volunteers how to talk about the exhibits.” The Patterson was a local seafaring and historical museum, run by the town’s historical society and sponsored by the university.

“Oh.” Another long silence

It was clear that he didn’t really want to talk, so I said, “Well, I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts.”

He again shook himself back to the present and protested, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to go. It’s just I have a lot of memories of this place, some of the happiest days of my life actually, and some…well, not so happy.”

I nodded. “I understand. But I do have an early meeting tomorrow, and I didn’t sleep well last night, so I should make an early night of it. I’ll let you sort things out. We can chat again later.”

He got up with me and shook my hand goodnight. As I walked out of the room, I turned to see him leaving his wine glass in the sink. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I joked. “The wrath of Miss M. can be a terrible thing.”

He turned to look at his glass and chuckled. “Shit! How could I have forgotten?” as I ascended the stairs, I heard him washing the glass and placing it in the dish drainer. I smiled to myself. I was glad I had given him the second chance. Then I heard something I didn’t expect. I heard him open the cellar door and start descending the stairs as he said, “Hey boys, did you miss me?”