One-Sided Pillow Talk

(My roommate and I, both young adults, used to be best friends, but we’ve been getting on each other’s nerves more and more lately, so we’ve decided to part ways when our lease is up in about four months. About a year ago, we each bought a beautiful and rather expensive meditation pillow made of recycled sari silk, mine in red, hers in blue. Six months ago, we took in her sister’s cat, when her sister was unable to take care of him anymore. The cat has a bad habit of clawing and puking on everything, so I moved my pillow into my bedroom and kept the door shut. My roommate left hers on the couch, and didn’t seem to mind when the cat moved onto it, and started, predictably, clawing it and barfing. It’s worth noting that I’m a professional seamstress, and I specialize in restoring vintage pieces.)

Me: “Huh, the cat really likes that pillow.”

Roommate: “Yeah, the goofball!”

Me: “He’s thrown up on it at least three times, though, and I mean, we’ve cleaned it up, but it can’t be good for the silk.”

Roommate: “Eh, it’s just stuff, and it makes him happy.”

(We both go back to our books for a few minutes until she asks, out of the blue:)

Roommate: “The pillow is one of the things we bought together, right?”

Me: “Huh? No! I got the red one, and you got the blue one. Remember? I moved mine into my room to keep the cat off it.”

(She immediately went pale, shooed the cat off the pillow, and moved it into her room. So, it was fine that the cat was shredding it when she could count on me to restore it, but as soon as she knew it was her responsibility, he had to go? I wasn’t sad to see her — and the cat — leave when the lease was up.)