My relationship with J. actually improved on some level after she was fired. I didn't have to try to police her presence at my desk at the office and she usually was waiting for me when I got home. Yeah, at some point I gave her a key.

J. didn't really try to get a job right after the firing. She hung out at church more, hung out with her cousin more and hung out at my place more. It was pretty good, now that I look back on it. She'd meet me for lunch from time-to-time and, because she spent more time at church during the week, she even was free some weekends.

Interestingly enough, I read a Jonathan Franzen essay on memory on the train today. In reading it, I realized that my memory on the J. saga is somewhat fuzzy. Things may be a bit out of sequence. I think I'm remembering this right: at some point J. got in an ugly car accident. It was her fault and the car was damaged just slightly less than mine was a couple of months ago. She was able to drive it but her parents were making her pay for their deductable. Of course she had no money. Her cousin was with her in the car, too, and her parents (the cousin's who were also quite wacko) forbid her from riding with J. These two turns really depressed her and she started talking about finding a new job.

She was going to use one afternoon to drop off applications at the mall and then was going to come by my house and we were going out for dinner. I got home and she wasn't there waiting for me. I thought this was a good sign. I thought that maybe she actually was talking to someone about a job. Then, however, it started to get late. By around 8:00 I was pretty hungry. Then the phone rang...

J: Hi (sobbing hysterically)
MRW: Hi. Are you okay?
J: No
MRW: Where are you? Did your car break down?
J: No (sobbing harder)
MRW: Where are you?
J: (complete hyterical sobbing)

At this point I look down at the Caller I.D. I did a double take. No, make that a triple take. I'll always be able to look at my Caller I.D. Box and see in my mind's eye what it said. It read...

Clayton County Jail

My silence must have told her that I knew where she was because our conversation continued on like this...

J: They say that I stole stuff from Wal-Mart (barely coherent through the hysterics)
MRW: Did you?
J: No! Of course not!
MRW: What happened?
J: I can't tell you now.
MRW: You need to call an attorney.
J: They called my Dad. He's on his way.
MRW: He's not going to do you any good. You need an attorney.
J: I don't have any choice. I'm so fucked.
MRW: What happened?
J: I have to go. I'll call you as soon as I can.

With that she hung up. I didn't hear from her for two days. When I did, she told me her side of the story.