The Guest Who Was Not Visiting for a Weekend

I prepared clean towels and moved the drying rack out of the small room. Marko's friend Nenad was coming for the weekend. That was what I had been told. I knew him slightly, enough to make coffee and ask about work, too little to understand why he arrived with four boxes, a monitor, and a large plant. Marko immediately took the heaviest box, hurriedly, as though carrying speed could explain the quantity.

Over dinner Nenad mentioned starting work near our building on Monday. I said that was convenient and asked where he would live. He looked at Marko. Marko looked at his plate. That brief geometry contained enough information for me to stop eating. Nenad thought he was staying with us until he found a flat, probably two or three months. Marko had told him we both agreed.

I did not argue with our guest. I asked Marko into the kitchen. He claimed he had intended to tell me but was waiting for the right moment. Nenad was struggling; he did not want him to feel unwelcome. I asked how he thought I would feel in a home where somebody else had already given my consent. He said withdrawing the promise now would be awkward. I realised he had relied on precisely that awkwardness from the beginning.

We returned to the table. Marko had to say he had not asked me. Nenad blushed and began gathering his things before anyone mentioned leaving. I stopped him and said he could stay the agreed weekend. A longer stay had not been agreed. I disliked becoming the person stating a boundary before a man who had already moved his life. I disliked abandoning the boundary for that reason even more.

On Sunday Nenad found a room with a colleague. Marko helped move his boxes. On returning he said I had been cold. I did not ask whether it would count as warmth if I moved a friend into his workplace. Such comparisons already sounded like additional work. I simply said his friendship with Nenad did not entitle him to promise my days in advance.

The small room again became a place for laundry and my occasional reading. Nenad messaged to thank me for two nights and apologise for the misunderstanding. I replied that he had not created it. Marko was in the kitchen when the message arrived. He did not ask what it said. For the first time he had to bear a conversation concerning him taking place without his prearranged version.