Let a Homeless Woman Stay in My Garage, but One Day, I Walked in Without Knocking & Was Stunned by What She Was Doing
A wealthy, emotionally aloof man is pulled to Lexi’s tenacity when he offers her a place to stay. Their improbable relationship starts to develop — until the day he unexpectedly enters his garage and finds something unsettling. What is Lexi truly hiding and who is she?
I owned a vast estate, expensive automobiles, and more money than I could ever spend in my lifetime. But there remained a void inside that I was unable to fill.
Women always appeared to want me just for the money I inherited from my parents, therefore I had never had a family. I couldn’t help but wish I had done something different at sixty-one.
Unconsciously tapping the driving wheel, I attempted to release the comfortable burden on my chest. At that moment, I noticed a rumpled woman hunched over a garbage can.
I didn’t know why I bothered to slow down the car. Were there not people like her everywhere? However, there was something about the way she moved that made me feel something. Her slender arms dug through the trash with a cruel purpose.
She appeared fierce but frail, as if she were clinging to her life by pure willpower.
I pulled over before I knew what I was doing. I pulled down the window and watched her from the safety of my automobile as the engine hummed.
Startled, she raised her head. Her eyes were wide, and I briefly believed she may bolt. However, she didn’t. Rather, she stood up straight and wiped her hands on her tattered jeans.
“Do you need some help?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded odd as I asked. Talking to strangers, much less inviting danger into my life, wasn’t my style.
“You offering?” She sounded keen, but she also sounded exhausted, as if she had heard all the hollow promises before.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t have time to consider before the words came out. I got out of the vehicle. “I just saw you there and… well, it didn’t seem right.”
She kept her eyes fixed on mine while crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s not right is life.” She chuckled bitterly. “And infidelity, especially from bad husbands. However, I don’t think you know a lot about that.”
I knew she was right, yet I still winced.
“Maybe not.” I hesitated, not knowing what to say next. “Do you have a place to go tonight?”
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She paused, her gaze flickering briefly before returning to mine. “No.”
Between us, the word lingered. I only needed to hear it.
I have a garage, you see. It’s more like to a guest house, actually. You might remain there until you are able to stand again.
I thought she would tell me to go to hell and laugh in my face. Instead, she only blinked at me, her hard veneer beginning to crumble.
She said, “I don’t take charity,” in a more subdued and vulnerable tone.
I said, “It’s not charity,” but I wasn’t totally sure what it was. “It is merely a place to remain. There are no conditions.
“All right. “Only for tonight,” she answered. “I’m Lexi, by the way.”
It was a peaceful trip back to the estate. With her arms encircling her like a shield, she sat in the passenger seat and gazed out the window.
I showed her the garage that was converted into a guest house when we got there. It was adequate for a person to live in, but it was nothing special.
“You can stay here,” I suggested, pointing to the cramped area. “There’s food in the fridge, too.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
Lexi remained in the garage for the next four days, but we did occasionally get together for dinners. There was something about her that drew me in, but I couldn’t quite place it.
Perhaps it was the loneliness I saw in her eyes, which mirrored mine, or the way she seemed to persevere in spite of all life had thrown at her. Perhaps it was merely the fact that I no longer felt so isolated.
She started to open up one evening as we were having supper across from one another.
She said, “I used to be an artist,” in a quiet voice. “Anyway, I made an effort to be. I had a few shows and a little gallery. but everything collapsed.
“What happened?” With real curiosity, I inquired.
She made a hollow sound when she laughed. “Life took place. After getting pregnant and kicking me out, my husband left me for a younger lady. After that, my entire life fell apart.
One afternoon, everything changed. I had been running about, attempting to locate one of my cars’ tire air pumps. Without knocking, I stormed into the garage, hoping to swiftly take it and head out. But I was really stunned by what I witnessed.
Dozens of artwork were scattered over the floor. of myself.
I was unable to get rid of the sense of loss for weeks. Not only because of the unsettling artworks, but also because of our previous experience. I hadn’t had warmth and connection in years, but there was now.
“I’m grateful. I wasn’t sure if you would enjoy it. I thought I should give you something more than those other paintings.
“Lexi, you owed me absolutely nothing. Nor was I exactly fair to you.”
“You had every right to be upset.” She spoke more steadily now. “What I painted wasn’t actually about you, but they were things I wanted to let go of. You simply were there. I apologize.
“Lexi, you don’t have to say sorry. As soon as I saw the painting, I forgiven you.
Her breath caught. “You did?”
When I said, “I did,” I meant it. My opinion was altered not only by the picture but also by the persistent sense that I had let something significant to elude me because I was too scared to confront my suffering. “And… well, I’ve been thinking… maybe we could start over.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe we could have a conversation. Over supper, perhaps? If you’d want.
When she said, “I’d like that,” “I’d really like that.”
We agreed to get together in a few days. Lexi informed me that she had obtained employment and purchased new clothes using the money I had given her. When she got her first paycheck, she had plans to move into an apartment.
The idea of eating supper with Lexi once more made me grin.
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