Page 22 of Undefeated

Change scares me. It scares me to death. What if this. What if that. Even though Josh is a prick and he treats me like shit, I have a home here. I can always come home. Home, foe me, is a comfortable place. If someone would just decide for me, it would make this so much easier. For me to decide it might take forever, maybe even a little bit longer than forever.

On the weekends, Josh often left for a good part of the day. He rarely took me with him. When I would ask him where he was going, his answer was generally out. When he left, I usually baked.

Baking makes me happy. I like to bake things. I get great joy to have someone eat what I bake and tell me that they like it. When I get upset I bake more than normal. The baking settles me down and allows me to feel like I am accomplishing something. Maybe it’s because there’s a beginning and an end to it. It might be that I enjoy creating it from my own mind. That my hands created something and I feel a degree of accomplishment.

Maybe it’s all of those things combined.

Today I was baking pecan and butterscotch chip cookies. They’re Josh’s favorite. I have no idea why I am still concerned with making something Josh likes, but I never eat this shit. I bake it and he eats it. He takes it in his lunch, eats then in bed, and eats on the couch while he plays video games.

Josh is disgusting.

I pulled the cookies from the oven and set them on the rack to cool. The Tupperware that I was placing the cookies in was almost full. Six dozen cookies was a lot of cookies, but not for Josh. He would eat six dozen cookies in about three days or so.

Josh is fat and disgusting.

Shane is not fat.

Or disgusting.

Every morning, Shane called me at work and we would talk for a few minutes. I couldn’t talk on my cell phone, but he could call me at work. We talked about everything and about nothing. Sometimes I would just sit and listen to him talk or listen to him breathe. Knowing he was there was enough. Someone that didn’t treat me like shit. Someone that actually cared.

My time with Shane was valuable to me. If I didn’t get to talk to him it was disappointing. It wasn’t that I was disappointed in him - it was that I was disappointed that it didn’t happen. It had become so easy to enjoy his time, and I could do it without worry or without effort. Shane didn’t judge me. And he never said anything bad about me.

I removed the cookies from the sheet with the spatula and placed them in the Tupperware. There was almost no dough left and the container was full, so I began washing out the bowl.

As I was washing the bowl in the sink, I heard the key in the door. My muscles tensed and I started shaking.

Buster.

“What the fuck, did this sum bitch catch fire while I was gone?” he bellowed from the doorway.

“I cooked your favorite cookies,” I said as he walked into the kitchen.

“No bake?” he asked.

You hate no bake cookies, you miserable asshole.

“No, the butterscotch with pecans,” I turned from the sink and smiled.

He reached into the Tupperware container and took a handful of cookies out. As he walked to the refrigerator, I could smell the beer on his breath. Perfect, he’s drunk. I started shaking as I rinsed the bowl in the sink. As he reached into the refrigerator, I began to dry the bowl.

“You drink my fuckin’ beer, you whore?” he asked, his head stuffed in the refrigerator.

“I don’t drink beer, Josh. You know that,” I responded.

“Don’t back talk me you slut,” he said as he shut the refrigerator door.

“Somebody drank them. There’s only five left. I had a twelver in that ‘fridge,” he said as he opened the can of beer.

“Only you and I are in the house, Josh. So if they’re gone, you drank them,” I said softly as I dried the bowl with the dish towel.

“You callin’ me stupid?” he asked.

“No,” I looked down at the floor.

“Well, I know who lives here. And I know what I drunk and what I didn’t. Who you had in here while I was gone?” he asked as he stuffed another cookie in his mouth.

“No one, Josh,” I answered.