Erin DuFresne

i wish there was something you'd do or say
to try and make me change my mind and stay
we never did much talking anyway, don't think twice, that's all right

I ain’t sayin’ you treated me unkind
You could have done better, but I don’t mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don’t think twice, it’s all right

ain't no use in calling out my name, boy

name Erin DuFresne
age & dob 28 (1.5.88)
hometown riverdale, bronx, nyc
current residence tbd
marital status single
family Rose DuFresne (b. 4.11.2011 - age 5)
occupation self-employed (Odds & Ends)

DIY crafting. red lipstick. beards. dark chocolate. bedtime stories. fresh notebooks. pinot noir. elephants. hepburn + bogey/liz + clift. rose gold. starry nights. spring rain. podcasts. true crime. love songs. hot baths. chocolatey stouts. pilot precise V5 rollerballs. spooky stories. nag champa. washi tape. snow boots. winged eyeliner. folk music. skinny jeans. bonfires. flowing tops. crusty sour dough. kalamata olives. old jazz standards. cold-brewed coffee. soul. mojitos. sunflowers. chunky jewelry. classic blues.

Turn Ons
intelligence. self-possession. strength. shoulder blades. kindness.

Turn Offs
stupidity. arrogance. weakness. passive aggression. bad tippers.

like you never did before

There were things to be said for a good name, but more to be said for the money to support the lifestyle the name demanded. Thus was borne the unhappy marriage of Grace Stanton to Richard DuFresne; new money and old stature.

They had one daughter, and not much else between them. Erin, the apple of her father's eye and the bane of her mother's existence. Willful and carefree; disinterested in the politics of the world into which she had been born. She had all the tools she needed to build herself the life her mother had imagined for her, but no interest whatsoever in pursuing it. A constant source of conflict between the DuFresne women, forever one another's equals and opposites.

Perhaps it was nothing more than spite that had first drawn her to Eamon. Ten years the then-eighteen year old's senior, and everything her mother wanted for her. The perfect partner to convince she was anything but marriage material. A short-term dalliance she could use as later ammo.

The last thing she had expected was to fall in love with the man.

For years, they snuck away from obligatory galas and sleeping lovers to find one another. Erin first in denial of her feelings, only to have them denied once she admitted to them. The pregnancy hadn't been intentional, but once it became reality, Erin couldn't bring herself to terminate. A tiny life growing inside of her; a piece of him with her always. Explanations she would have snorted away as disingenuous and unbearably saccharin until they were her own burden to bear.

That she had no intention of forcing marriage between them made negotiations easy for Eamon. Hellbent on proving she expected nothing, Erin refused everything. He could spend time with the child as a friend when and if he chose. The little girl's paternity would be a dutifully-kept secret as to avoid souring Eamon's engagement. Erin would neither seek nor help financial support.

Only after she had hammered out the details did she inform her parents of the pregnancy. Grace, ever shrewd, was quick to guess the father's identity; quicker still to suggest using the baby as leverage. Erin's refusal was promptly followed by her eviction from her childhood home. Six months pregnant, Erin found herself without the safety net of her parents' wealth for the first time in her life.

The struggle was real. She had been vaguely aware of the fact before, but the reality of it all was harsher than she could have imagined. Living with multiple roommates in spaces smaller than her childhood bedroom; scrimping and saving just to make the bills and falling behind any time there was an unexpected expense. It took Erin years to save enough to sign a lease on a tiny studio apartment in Washington Heights. Though most wouldn't consider it any special accomplishment, Erin is proud of the corner of the world she and Rosie call their home.

ain't no use in calling out my name, boy