I began to wonder if maybe Michael was honestly grateful to be rid of me. Maybe he’d regretted inviting me to move in with him. He was a pretty smart guy who made a decent living and was rather ridiculously good-looking. He could have any guy out there in the world. Why would he want skinny, scrawny, down-on-his-luck, out-of-work-actor me?
* * * *
That of course had been the beginning of November, and Thanksgiving was the twenty-eighth this year. Pretty late in the month.
By the time the Tuesday before rolled around, there still had been nary a peep out of Michael. That spoke volumes to me.
Good riddance to bad rubbish, is what Michael must have thought.
I had spent those weeks packing my stuff so that when I returned from visiting my family, I could move out of my apartment and into Mary’s rented room. Some of it was just going to have to go to storage as I had an old couch and a dining room table that weren’t going to fit in a single room.