Free The Good Life by Jodie Beau

AARP membership.
    Since the housing market in Michigan had been so crappy lately, and my parents didn’t want to lose a butt load of money by selling their house for dirt cheap, my brother, Adam, agreed to move in and handle the mortgage until the market picked up. Since Adam is a third-year surgical resident with an alarming amount of student loans to pay off, he can’t afford to make the mortgage payments on his own. What’s a guy to do in that situation? Rent out the other two bedrooms. In Ann Arbor, there is always someone looking to rent a room and they were willing to pay a nice amount, too, especially since the house was so close to campus.
    I knew that one of his roommates had just graduated and moved out a few weeks ago so this divorce really came at a perfect time. Adam thought it was a great idea for me for move back and, compared to NYC, the rent was cheap enough that I’d be able to cover a whole year’s worth, plus utilities, with my 401k settlement. And I’d still have some left over for a used car.
    I intended to get a job to save up enough money to start grad school next fall. Not this fall, but next fall, over a year from now. I’d done my research and gotten some information on the MSW programs at every university within fifty miles of Ann Arbor. And guess what – you’re supposed to apply for those things a year in advance. I missed the deadlines by a long shot. But I didn’t let that get me down. I would just register for some Continuing Education classes in the fall to freshen up my smarts a little. Or not. Whatever. I was trying hard to be carefree about this… kind of an oxymoron, huh?
    I walked up the driveway and through the gate of the privacy fence to enter the backyard. Adam had hidden a key under one of the cushions of the patio chairs and I found it easily. I unlocked the French-style patio doors that led to the kitchen a bit apprehensively. I hadn’t been in the house since my parents had moved out because we’d spent the last few Christmases in NYC. I took a look around to see what my brother had done to the place. It was actually kind of impressive for a bunch of guys. The décor was modern and the place looked clean … and empty. I was glad there wasn’t anyone home. I kind of wanted a few minutes to settle in before I was forced into any uncomfortable reunions. No, Adam didn’t make me uncomfortable – he’s my brother. But the other roommate was another story. A long one.
    Remember Jake? The Heimlich guy? He was the other roommate. And I should probably let you know that the bubblegum disaster of a first kiss wasn’t the last encounter between us.
    During my junior year at UNC I fell hard and fast for a guy named Jim. He was a quiet and enigmatic kind of guy that drove me crazy in a good way. At least I thought it was a good way at the time. I was young and stupid and believed that trust was something a person was given automatically until they broke it, when really it should have been the other way around.
    Jim was also a junior at UNC but he was a “local” who lived with his parents and commuted. Once we started dating, he spent the night at my apartment with me probably three or four nights a week. He had space in my closet and a toothbrush in the bathroom. We were practically living together. It was my first adult relationship, and I thought it would last forever.
    Looking back, I’ve realized it was lust and not love that made me so crazy about him. Or just plain crazy, period. I felt like I needed him, like I was an addict and he was my methadone. It was unhealthy at best, but I didn’t know any better at the time. I thought all of the drama and fighting was normal. I thought I’d found something spectacular. In my head I had already planned our wedding, named our children and found us a house in Ann Arbor on a cozy cul-de-sac with a swing set and a sandbox in the backyard!
    One night, during finals week, we were in my apartment. He was helping me pack for the