Do I know you?

After an absence of almost three years, my estranged husband showed up today. It wasn't a total surprise; he'd given me advance notice a couple of weeks ago. But I'd been too busy worrying about my mother to give it any thought.

When I first saw him, all I could think is that he'd shrunk; he's thinner and actually seems shorter. I think he's lost an inch somewhere during the past years, or maybe I got taller. He's gotten too much sun so he's too tanned. He reminds me of a Florida retiree with peeling arms and crow's feet.

But after several hours of him in the house, and going out for lunch and shopping, I've realized that it's like having a near-stranger around. Like one of those cousins you see about every 10 years at the family reunion. You see your cousin at a distance across from the pot luck buffet, and you spend a few minutes trying to decide if it's really the cousin you thought it was, before you approach him or her and make a jerk out of yourself.

I'd planned to take my husband up on his offer of helping me paint Chez Melina during the next weeks, especially since his family's business is house painting. But now I don't mind if he does it or not. Part of me is wishing he'd head on down to the coast to see his new grandson and head back up north. It was a nice offer, but he can skip the house painting. So far, it's been a bit too weird for my taste.