A Stranger in the Bed

A conversation the other night sparked this forgotten (some might suggest “suppressed”) memory.

There was this party at our house several years ago, our oldest was graduating from high school and we were celebrating that milestone. All went well; the teenagers left our house standing, albeit devoid of anything edible.

A couple came over that used to live down the street from us, and since we hadn’t seen each other in quite a while, we had a lot of catching up to do. Oh, they also brought the woman’s aging mother, who was even then exhibiting signs of Alzheimer’s. Well the late hour, about two a.m. was getting too much for Mom and she needed to lay down. My wife led her to our room and suggested she lay down on the bed and our friend could come get when they (finally) left.

Along about 2:30 a.m. our friend got a call from her daughter, who as a child spent many afternoons at our house. The suggestion was made by our friend that the girl “come on over” to the Soderbergs’ house, we’re having a great time. Yeah, between increasingly obvious glances at the clock, watch, sundial, hourglass, and insinuations about how exhausted we were from cleaning our home to look like nobody lived there. For two days.

Alas, to no avail. This gal was intent on catching up.

The evening eventually drew to a close, even for our guest. Relieved, my wife went in to wake up “Mom” and was greeted by the lady in our bed, covered up to her neck with the comforter, sound asleep. She gently shook her, “N----, it’s time to go home…” As the covers came off, it was revealed that she was lying there in our bed in just her blouse and her underwear.

My wife, in shock, came back into the den and retrieved our friend. She told her that her mom might need some help getting ready to go. Meaning, get-her-dressed and out-of-here-as-quick-as-you-can. That actually happened, eventually, and the second the door closed, I was instructed to change the sheets on the bed.

What? I was so tired, I literally couldn’t see straight. As I stripped the bed, my spouse gathered fresh sheets, which we quickly and sleepily re-made the place of repose. The whole time, she was going on and on about that lady being in HER bed in just her underwear. She couldn’t sleep like that! How could she?

As I drifted off to sleep that night, and maintain today, I was convinced that had it occurred on my side of the bed, I would have not heard a word about it.