A dreaded houseguest is coming for two weeks and I don’t want to be rude | Ask Rebecca

Ask Rebecca is smart, honest advice to readers’ questions about life, family and relationships by columnist Rebecca Eckler. Got a question for Rebecca? Submit it anonymously on the form here. You can also send an email to NPadvice@postmedia.com.

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Please help! An old school friend is coming to stay for two weeks. Last time I saw her, she never stopped talking. There was even one occasion when I wanted to say something and I actually had to ask her to be quiet for a moment. She is a widow and lives alone, but judging by her extensive emails, she has lots of friends and leads a very busy life.

I don’t want to be rude to her, but my husband and I aren’t that talkative and are quite happy with prolonged silences. He can just leave the room, but I can’t do that! How do I get my message across without seeming rude? — Hostess Regret

I have rarely been more on a letter writer’s side while simultaneously believing she may be partially responsible for her own predicament.

I’m so protective of my alone time that I read “two-week houseguest” and immediately started looking for an Airbnb for you. And I read your letter twice because I was convinced I’d missed the part where this old-school friend invited herself.

She didn’t.

So, while I have enormous sympathy for you, the inconvenient fact is that you invited a known talker to live in your house for two weeks.

I love people. I’ve been known to extract an entire divorce history from an Uber driver before we’ve made it through three traffic lights. I can be charming, curious and extremely social — right up until the precise moment I absolutely cannot.

Almost every day there comes a point when I’m simply done receiving information and need silence. Everyone in my house knows when I’ve reached maximum human input. I put one hand up like I’m stopping traffic. My husband and kids know immediately what it means: STFU. Do not tell me what happened at school. Do not ask what’s for dinner. If the house is on fire, fine, you may speak.

So, I get you. What I don’t get is how you got yourself into this situation. Two weeks! A houseguest doesn’t just materialize on the doorstep carrying a suitcase with enough underwear for 14 days. Somewhere in this story, you said yes.

How could you — someone who considers “comfortable silence” one of marriage’s greatest achievements — let this happen? Were you distracted? Drinking? Had she been talking for so long that you agreed to two weeks simply because it was the only way to get off the phone?

This is less a houseguest problem than a boundary origin story.

Whatever happened, you’ve made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. Unless, dear G-d, you’re planning to give her your bed too.

Agreeing to house another adult for 14 days while already dreading it suggests speaking up for your boundaries may not be your strongest skill. If you couldn’t say, “two weeks is too long,” I’m guessing, “I need some me time” isn’t exactly going to roll off your tongue either.

The good news is she hasn’t arrived yet.

Start managing expectations before she asks for the wi-fi password. Tell her how excited you are to see her while casually mentioning that those two weeks have become unusually busy.

If they aren’t, make them busy. Lunches. Medical appointments. Volunteering. You have until she unpacks to become the busiest woman in North America.

Announce you absolutely must finish the 324-page book for book club, and you’re only on page 15. Your friend doesn’t know that. So, you may have to lie for the greater good.

Plan outings. Lots of them. Choose activities where talking is discouraged, socially unacceptable or gets you physically removed from the premises. Movies. Plays. Yoga. Concerts. Ballet. Meditation. Massages in separate rooms.

Outsource some of the listening. Invite friends for dinner. Better yet, invite your chattiest friends. They can ask follow-up questions while you concentrate very hard on your pasta. Anyone with ears is eligible.

Tag-team with your husband. If he takes her to the grocery store, stay home. If you take her for coffee, he stays home. You are not co-hosting the Oscars. Maybe breakfast is yours, lunch is his, and dinner is shared custody.

But there’s another part of your letter I don’t want to turn into a punchline.

Your friend is a widow. She lives alone.

She may spend her days without anyone to tell the small things to, like the ridiculous thing someone said at the grocery store or the email that annoyed her. When you live with someone, you have a built-in audience for all that. You don’t realize how much you say until there’s nobody on the other end of the sofa to hear it.

Perhaps when she gets around people she considers friends, the floodgates open. Maybe these two weeks mean more to her than you realize.

And she’s an old friend. Friendship occasionally requires listening to a story you didn’t ask for about someone you’ve never met.

So, yes, you’re going to have to suck up some of this. You did agree to it.

Be kind. Listen. Laugh. Fake the occasional migraine if necessary. The goal is to get through two weeks and still want to be friends when she leaves.

Love, Rebecca

Rebecca Eckler is an internationally bestselling author, founder of re:books publishing, Rivkah Books, and co-founder of CANREADS. She’s a professional oversharer and observer of human behaviour, and has spent decades writing about life’s messy twists. 

Have a question for Rebecca? Email NPadvice@postmedia.com or send your question anonymously by clicking here.

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