Last week I wrote that I wanted to be confident that L would be able to work through her problems and give her and S an honest try, but that I couldn't be. By Monday she'd already started grumbling, and on Tuesday I had to talk her down from wanting to leave that day. When she said she and S talked and came to some conclusions, I was hopeful that things would get better.
Guess where L is this morning? If you said "with B" then you win the prize. What's the prize? Getting to read me bitching about what a crappy weekend this has been.
She started Saturday morning, making comments here and there about feeling stressed and uncomfortable. I tried to talk her through, remind her she'd only been there a little time and needed to give herself time to get adjusted to the new surroundings. She's never stayed long enough (12 days is the record, but generally she can't make it a full week) to get comfortable with his place and think of it as her place. She would agree, but I knew she wasn't feeling it.
Saturday evening she finally sent a text saying she couldn't take it, she had to leave, and wanting me to call B and get him to take her back. She didn't want to call him herself because she was worried that he'd would text S about it. I pointed out that he could do that just as easily if I call him, but she didn't care. I refused, saying that B was the last place she should be, and that she just needed to give her and S a chance.
Long story short, five hours later I finally agreed to send B a text asking if I could call her about L. She was making vague threats about how I was pissing her off and she was about to do something shitty. Someday I'm going to throw that right back in her face, but not that night. I figured B would be at work (night shift), and would say no. Actually, I'd just sent the text and was working on the next one saying "for both of our sakes, just say no" when his answer came: "Yeah, I guess." Are you fucking kidding me?! (Turns out he'd taken the night off to Virginia Tech against Alabama, hoping VT would at least make a game of it.)
I called, and we very civilly talked about how he just can't do it anymore; he's tried helping her so many times before just to be shit on again, and he isn't going to do it. I frankly told him that I hoped he would stick to that, because as far as I'm concerned that would be the worst thing for him and her to do.
L wanted me to act like I was calling him on my own, and that even she didn't know about it, and didn't want me to admit that she was with S. Fuck that; I told B exactly what was going on, and hoped that he would stick to his guns. I did ask him to not rat me out to L when she called him later (because we both knew she would) and he agreed to stick to the story that L wanted me to tell him.
After we hung up I texted L that he said he wasn't going to help, and she answered that I should have tried harder and to call him back. I put the phone aside, on silent, and ignored it the rest of the night and attempted to drink myself into a coma. (The wife would never let that happen, even if I were serious about wanting to do it, but she did let me get pretty fucked up.)
When I got up Sunday morning, hungover of course, I checked my phone and saw she'd been texting for the past hour (starting around 6 a.m.) Still wanting to move, saying she'd pay for the trailer this time, and could she come take a shower because S's well is still fucked up. I said she could come take a shower, and she let me know when she was on her way. I woke the wife to give her time to get herself taken care of, and 45 minutes later L pulled up. She stayed in the care for a long time, talking to someone (I knew it was B) and when she finally came in it was obvious she'd been crying.
She jumped in the shower after greeting everyone, and when she came out a few minute later, hair wrapped in a towel but otherwise dressed and ready, I asked what we needed to do. She said "move me out of there." Where are we taking your stuff. Of course she was still working on B at this point, and about 10 minutes later he gave in. I wasn't one bit surprised; from the moment he'd said I could call him about her, I knew no matter what he said he would eventually do what she wanted. He and I are a lot alike in that respect.
So she and I rented a trailer, went to S's and got her stuff. He was surprisingly calm despite being obviously frustrated with the situation, and helped us load everything. Thankfully the majority of it was still packed up from the week before, but it was another hot, humid day and I was soaked with sweat by the time we were done. L and I rode separately this time, so over all it wasn't as much fun, but she would call while we were traveling and we'd joke around and get each other laughing again.
Another "fuck you" from B, though, as he was sleeping when we got there because he was working that night, so again he didn't help. L and I unloaded everything and got it inside, and I was a hot mess. After we were done I drank a few beers while I cooled off, then stripped and took a shower while L ran my wet things through the dryer so I wouldn't have to put them back on wet and clammy. She gave me a pair of B's gym shorts to wear so I wouldn't be naked. (Honestly, if B hadn't been there, we probably would have both been naked, but alas.) I helped L get things organized while my clothes dried and B, having gotten up by this time, sat on the sofa watching golf.
I left around 5, dropped off the trailer, and headed home. I let L know I was back in town safe and sound, and she thanked me again for being a good brother and helping her, apologizing for the drama and saying that she was going to make this work. I told her she better. I also told her that should the time come when she needs to leave B again, I'd do everything I could to help her but I would not move her back to S. She agreed, saying she knows now that it just won't work with him no matter how she feels about him at times, and she's not going to put either of them through that again. I wish I could believe her, but I have no doubt that sometime down the road this whole fucking process is going to start up again.
The wife and I went to dinner when I got home, and on the way we talked about the move and everything else. She said "L owns you, big time." I figured this was just another one of her mistakes in English, and that she really meant that L owes me, but I was wrong. "She owns you. She says 'move me' and you jump." I pointed out sheepishly that I held out longer this time, but we both knew it was a hollow victory at best.
Oh, I called L when I was still on my way back home to ask her something, and as it was after 5:30 I asked if B had already left. She said "no, he called off tonight too." That mother fucker!
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