Don't Trifle With Me

“Don't trifle with me, Wesley,” she warned, “or I won't be here the next time you want me.”

“Don't trifle with me, Wesley,” she warned, her hazel eyes pleading, “or I won't be here the next time you want me.”

“Aw, come on Baby, let's kiss and make up. That's always the best part.” he said.

Wrapping his arms around her, he tried to kiss her and she attempted to dodge his kisses, her brown hair getting tangled in his fingers. She finally gave in and returned them. Of course, this ended in the bedroom, it always did.

Sarah sleepily laid her head on his shoulder. The aftermath of their love-making was her favorite part, just laying there snuggled up together. Thoughts of happiness swirled through her mind as she started to doze off, a smile on her lips.

She woke with a start. Wesley was out of bed, getting dressed.

“Where are you going, Wes?”

“Just remembered, I promised to meet Sam at the Road House at 9:00. We are going to discuss plans for the band.”

“Can't this wait for another time?”

“Sorry, Babe, got to go!”

And he was gone...only there long enough to fight and make-up. A tear slid down Sarah's cheek. It was always like this with Wes.

She had met him a year ago, at the bar where his band was preforming. The barmaid brought her a drink, said it was from the guitar player for the prettiest girl in the place. Shy all her life, she wasn't use to being told she was pretty. He bought her a couple more drinks, which she wasn't use to. Before she knew what happened, she was drunk, and they were at her apartment, making love.

He was so attentive to her those first couple of months. She would make him dinner, then go with him to the bar and listen to the band play. She thought they were good, but then, she was in love with the lead guitar player. She knew they weren't good enough to make it big. They always ended up at her apartment, love-making. Within a month, he asked to move in with her. She was hesitant at first, she had always enjoyed her privacy, but when he pleaded with those big brown eyes, she couldn't turn him down.

A month after moving in with her, Wes lost his job. The gig at the bar didn't pay much, and that had to be split five ways. So Sarah was left paying all the bills. She hadn't had a problem paying them before he moved in, but now she was spending a lot more for groceries. Wes was a big eater and he liked to eat well. Maybe she could have handled it, if it was just him eating, but he invited the band members over almost every night. She ended up spending all her time, after working a full day, cooking and cleaning up after the band members.

The band members started coming over every night, partying till dawn, then passing out on her couch or the floor. Many a morning Sarah would get up to get ready for work, only to find a band member curled up around the toilet.

Wes would want to make love - he always wanted to make love - but Sarah didn't feel comfortable with the other band members in the next room. When she did give in to him, the next morning, she would hear lewd comments about all the noise keeping them awake. She was so embarrassed!

Wes and the band slept all day while she worked at her job as a waitress. She tried talking to Wes about their problems.

He always said, “Let's talk about this later, our time is much better spent in other ways.”

After which they would end up in bed, no problems solved - except his sexual appetite.

She stopped going to the bar to watch the band play. She had to sleep sometime.

One night a couple of the band members showed up at her door, but Wes didn't.

“Where is Wes?” she asked.

“He had to go talk to a man about a new gig we're thinking of doing.”

“Why didn't you go with him?”

“Well...you know, Wes...is our manager.”

More and more, Wes quit coming home until it was almost time for her to get up. One advantage to this was, that the band members quit coming around, too.

On night, she donned sun glasses and a hat. Slipping into the bar, she hid in a dark corner, and watched Wes. He was talking with a bleached blond, in between sets, laughing and buying her drinks. Sarah, slipped back outside and drove home. Sure enough, Wes didn't come home that night. Which is just as well, because she was busy cleaning and cooking.

Wes showed up for dinner the next day, with flowers for her.

“Sorry, I couldn't make it home last night. The guys and I were working on some new songs, and well...the time just got away with us. Hey, the place looks great, have you been cleaning? And something smells really good”

On the candlelit table was a steak, baked potato and salad. The dessert of trifle was beautifully displayed in a cut glass bowl.

“There's just one plate, are you going to wait on me, Babe?”

Sitting down, he started to cut into the steak. He hadn't even realized that Sarah was strangely quiet. Didn't know that she had spent the day, delousing her apartment of all his belongings.

“I told you not to trifle with me,” she said, dumping the beautiful trifle onto his head, “Now get out of my apartment...out of my life!”

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© 2012 Wendy Seames Garner

Author's Note

Trifle - Noun
A dessert typically consisting of plain or sponge cake often soaked with wine or spirits (as brandy or rum) and topped with layers of preserves, custard, and cream

Trifle - Verb
1. a : to talk in a jesting or mocking manner or with intent to delude or mislead
b : to treat someone or something as unimportant
2. To handle something idly