You, Me, And Dupree

There is a reason in this life why I find no need to entertain my brain with the most recent addition to pop culture. It never seems to fail that what I am experiencing is way more interesting and nevertheless complicated. Who needs The OC, 90210, American Idol? I’m in my own version of Survivor, although this summer it was preempted by a movie called “You, Me, And Dupree”.

You see we have this friend – I know I know I’m starting this off in a daunting manner, but it is what it is. This friend affectionately referred to herein as “Dupree”, has made some poor choices in life. A brief synopsis of Dupree is a man with a big heart and self destructive tendencies. His parents have passed and his remaining family loves him from afar. He went to school to work on motorcycles – like the TV show “Orange County Choppers” and upon graduating found himself working at a bike shop. For these 2 years he was sober, and working on creating a chopper for show. However, he made a poor choice and allowed someone into the shop, whose actions led to Dupree being fired and asked to leave. So Dupree packed up and made his way back to this state.

He was staying with an old female friend. She apparently lacked self esteem, attracted trouble, and although smart enough to work the “system” she couldn’t control her deep seeded emotional issues. This housing situation was doomed from the start. I think when she realized that Dupree was not interested in a woman who allowed her feline to defecate on her bed and then sleep in the same bed without changing the sheets, she lost her mind – and of course it was all HIS fault. It was then that our phone rang. She was screaming in the background for him to get out. My husband looked at me, I at him, and with few words spoken we agreed to help our friend who had nowhere else to go.

Why you may ask did we do this? Why did we believe his story? What made us believe that this was only “temporary”? My excuse - I have some Sagittarius and Aquarius in my astrological chart, therefore I am always seeking to maintain my freedom and help out the underdog. I still haven’t figured out what my double Gemini-Leo moon husband is using for an excuse, but I guess that’s partial why I love him.

So Dupree moved in. Please keep in mind that we have a small 2 bedroom house. One is obviously our bedroom and the other is set up as an office – no bed. When guests stay over they stay on the sofa bed in the living room.

To help Dupree feel a little more “at home” we emptied out a few drawers of this old dresser and a few plastic bins we use for storage so that he could put away some of his belongings. For the first few weeks we did our best to make him feel comfortable and welcomed. When we ate, it was all three of us at the table. When we did laundry, it was all three of our clothes cleaned and folded. We arranged a shower schedule. We included him in our family barbeque, and even our family treated him as one of their own. Friends came to visit and acted as if there was nothing happening, even though they knew the situation. We rented movies that all three of us wanted to watch, and then spent the time rewinding for explanations (sorry pet peeve of mine).
He found a job in less than a week, but still kept looking for a motorcycle mechanic job. He started paying off his debt. He contributed to the grocery store bill. He cleaned the basement, kitchen, and living room. He helped my husband with house work, including the gardening, gutter cleaning, and other miscellaneous repairs. He took it upon himself to make it his job to do the dishes every day. He helped feed the cats when we were late coming home. He cleaned the spare shower he was using. He was talking to people about apartments and purchasing transportation. He was making a good effort.

One day I came home and saw him holding an open alcoholic beverage. With surprise and concern I asked him if he knew that the bottle was not regular iced tea, that it was alcoholic. He said he didn’t realize it when he opened it and didn’t really care for it anyway. Within two hours he had finished the drink. But it was innocent mistake, right?

Later in the week Dupree asked my husband for a “sip” of beer. My husband, for some unknown reason, said okay. Dupree expressed that he didn’t care for the taste of it; it wasn’t as refreshing as he remembered.

At the family barbeque we hosted, to my dismay I saw Dupree with a beer. Amidst the hub-bub of cooking and overall entertaining our 10 guests, I expressed my concern to my husband. He matter-of-factly explained to me that it was nothing to be worried about. He and Dupree had shared a few drinks on separate occasions recently and things were “cool”. Later that night, when my husband and I were in the sanctity of our bedroom, I told him I was very concerned. He tried to reassure me that everything was okay, that a recovering alcoholic could handle a drink or two. I had seen Dupree drink close to a six pack that day, granted it was over several hours and for a non-alcoholic would cause no concern. There were no embarrassing incidents. Even with my insistence that this was wrong, my husband assured me there was nothing to be worried about. With a sigh I rolled over, and debated myself to sleep – do I trust my husband or my instincts?

Dupree began asking to be brought to the liquor store on his way home from work. On one occasion I granted this request partially because my husband was with us and wanted to stop as well. As I sat in the car my stomach turned. I was not happy with the decisions I was making. This was not right. I refused to take him to the liquor store ever again.

Now we had this 2 week vacation planned for a few months, and our departure date was quickly arriving. Dupree had known about this before he moved in, and knew that while we were gone he would have to stay elsewhere. We were leaving in 5 days, and Dupree had yet to secure a place to stay. With, how would you say, encouragement? From my husband Dupree finally contacted an old friend about staying with him. This old friend offered for Dupree to move in, as he would like the company, had an extra room, and need the money to help pay the mortgage. What a great opportunity! After days of phone tag, which I believe was caused by the friend rethinking the offer, Dupree had a new place to live. We were excited for him. My husband helped him pack and move.

During these 5 days, the tension level between my husband and I grew. We still had itinerary to finalize for our trip, instructions to leave for the house/cat sitters, arrangements to be made for transportation to and from the hotel, not to mention laundry and packing. I was feeling frustrated because his attentions were focused on Dupree, whether they were watching the ball game drinking or trying to help him move on. My husband was feeling the pressure of getting the house ready, finalizing the trip, and helping Dupree. After a huge blow up I found myself seeking counsel with the priest who officiated at our wedding. He is a wonderful man, truly touched by God. He helped me see that all the things we were trying to do were good, but we had lost focus of each other and our marriage. My husband and I mended the wounds we inflicted in each other. Off we went to a wondrous, well needed and deserved (if I do say so myself) vacation to paradise.