playing at love

In a matter of seconds, I became your wife and gave us a life together.

When I called the hotel housekeeping to see if they had recovered your shirt I accidentally left in the closet, to be your wife seemed much easier than the actual truth. The Housekeeping manager didn’t need to know we are not married, or even together. It seemed superfluous to tell her I hung your button-down shirt in the closet because it was too wrinkled, and you had forbade me from ironing it, and we had planned to be there three nights, not just one, but there had been a thunderstorm, which shut the pool down. It wasn’t for her to know that without the promise of the pool, we didn’t want to be there anymore. We had thought of jumping into the Sacramento River we could see from our room, but that was only in jest, the thunder rolled for hours until it brought in the down pour. I took your hand and we walked out into the rain. I got an Uber and it took us to a nearby dive and we got drunk. The Housekeeping manager didn’t need to know that I have never offered to iron a man’s shirt before, and had you let me do it, I would have not hung it up in the closet and forgotten it, because you would have worn it. The Housekeeping manager didn’t need to know we drank so much, we fell asleep until I Ubered home at three and I let you sleep so the shirt I hung in the closet was the last of your concerns, because I was. You wanted to know if I’d gotten home okay. The Housekeeping manager didn’t need to know that even though you’re not my husband, you give me everything I ask for and want. She also didn’t need to know that because we live a thousand miles apart and have different lives, we can safely play at love with no possibility of breaking each other’s hearts.

So when she answered, “Sheraton Housekeeping.”

I said, “This is Rebeca Jones and my husband and I stayed in room 324 on Wednesday and we left his shirt in the closet. Might you have found it?”

“Yes, Mrs. Jones, we have it. I will leave it for you at the front desk.”

The Housekeeping manager didn’t need to know that you were already long gone, but I was missing you, and your shirt would have to do.