by Jessica Marx
Tara and I settle in for the next couple of hours. The class is really interesting and interactive, so we have a great time. Since I have a few hours to kill before my shift starts, we decide to get some lunch and then hang out at her place so I can change and relax before work.
AGR is a short walk from Tara’s apartment, and now also from mine. I take Tara on a walk past what will be my building, and then we get some take out from a local deli and make our way to her place to eat.
Even though Tara has three roommates, no one else is home when we get there, so we have the apartment to ourselves. Their apartment is also very small, especially for four people, but it’s great anyway. Looking around, I get excited all over again knowing I will have a place of my own next week. I mean, Ryan will be there, but I know he will let me take the lead when it comes to decorating and whatnot.
While Tara and I eat, we talk about the class we just took and catch up on what’s going on with some of our other friends, and of course, the celebrity gossip. We fantasize and talk about what it will be like when we make it big. My parents might have wanted to keep Ryan’s dreaming from rubbing off on me, but they were too late…
Maybe that’s why I kept Tara around as a friend. She was hopelessly optimistic. We encourage and support each other in our craft instead of being cutthroat and backstabbing. I’m lucky to know her.
Once we get through the small talk, Tara asks about my plans for the apartment. I happily explain what I intend to do and when we will be moving in.
“How does Ryan feel about having you as a roommate?” she asks.
“Apparently, pretty good, since he agreed to it,” I reply.
“Just be careful, Eve,” she warns me again. “Ryan is super-hot. He’s also single. One drunken night alone in that apartment could change everything.”
“Seriously? How many drunken nights have we spent together already? He’s my STEPBROTHER. Step BROTHER. I think everyone needs to chill and trust that we know what we’re doing,” I mutter. I’m getting tired of justifying my friendship to everyone. I don’t care how hot Ryan is, or funny, or drunk. We are sharing an apartment, not a bedroom.
“Sorry, Eve. I’ll stop.” Tara sighs. “I’m just happy you’re going to be living so close. We’re going to have so much fun. Cheers,” she says, holding up her Styrofoam cup. We clink our deli cups together in celebration and all hard feelings are forgotten.
We finish our lunch and talk some more before I have to get ready to go. Tara doesn’t have to work tonight, so she is going out later with some friends. I use her bedroom to change and freshen up for a long night ahead. When I emerge, Keira is in the living room. She is one of our good friends and also one of Tara’s roommates. She is used to seeing me around—I’ve spent many nights here instead of taking the train home.
“Hey, Eve,” she greets me with a smile.
“Hey, Keira. What’s up?”
“Not much. Just living the dream,” she answers, indicating her waitress apron.
“Awesome. Me too,” I reply, smiling.
“Have fun tonight,” she replies.
“Oh, you know I will.”
I shouted a quick goodbye to Tara and left for work, descending the two flights of stairs to the front door. The bar I work at isn’t too far from here, so I walk there as the sun begins to set. I find myself thinking of Ryan again, wondering for a moment if I’m making a mistake. I know I’m not. I need to stop letting other people’s concerns bother me. I’m comfortable and happy with my decision, and that’s all that matters. A guy and a girl can be roommates. I don’t care what anyone thinks.
I walk up to the front of the bar and hear the music thumping already. It’s early still, so there isn’t a huge crowd, but I know what will be coming later. I take a deep breath and walk in.
I always think of my bartending job just like any other acting role I might take on. I’m playing a part: flirty, fun, outgoing girl slinging drinks and making wisecracks. It’s pretty much a guarantee I’m going to get hit on every night, likely several times. After so many months behind the same bar, the regulars have come to know me and tip very well. There’s also a couple of guys that I’m convinced come in here solely to try and woo me, hoping for that one time I might just take them up on their advances. Too bad for them I’m not into one-night stands, and I have no intention of ever going home with one of my customers.
I get myself set up and pour a couple of beers for the early crowd winding down from a long day at the office. Sitting on my side of the bar is one of my favorite regulars, Ken. Ken matches my wit and always makes for good company, especially in the earlier part of my shift when there’s not much to do. He works as an accountant nearby and usually stops in a couple of nights a week for a drink and some bar food.
“Hey, Ken. How are you today?” I ask, leaning over the bar slightly so he can hear me.
“Same old. Crunching numbers and counting down to five o’clock,” he replies.
“What can I get for you today? Usual?” I reach for a pilsner glass from the cooler as he answers.
“Yup, you know I like my beer to be just like you… Tan and sweet.” Ken jokes.
“That line never gets old, Ken. Even though you’ve been using it since the first time you came in.” I quip. “And the pisswater you like to drink isn’t sweet, so maybe you need to rethink your pick-up line.” I wink to let him know I’m teasing and hand him his glass.
“Thanks. Maybe one day it will work. Who knows?” Ken says, taking a sip of his beer.
I give him a chuckle. We go through pretty much this same routine every time he comes in. I don’t mind—he’s harmless.
I help the couple that came in after Ken and more people start to file in. I greet a few more of my regular guests and pleasantly help everyone at the bar. All in all, the night goes smoothly and my tips are very generous. Luckily, the crowd thins pretty early as it usually does on a weeknight, and I get to leave before midnight. In the city that never sleeps, it’s nice to be on my way to the train early enough that the sun won’t be coming up as I get to my house. Once you miss the late night train, the wait for the next takes forever. That’s just one more reason I’m looking forward to living here.
Chapter 30
Since everything has been agreed to and signed, Ryan and I made plans to move in on Saturday. My bed is being delivered to the apartment and everything else I have will fit in my father’s truck. Ryan will meet us at the apartment with his own truck and help carry everything up the three flights of stairs. Our friend Tony is coming by to help, too. He was more than happy to lend a hand, especially knowing he’ll get beer and pizza in return. Everyone else seems to be busy today, but we should be able to handle it between the four of us.
The week flies by, and even after working extremely late on Friday night, I’m up and ready to go Saturday morning.
“So this is it,” Mom says over coffee in the morning.
“That’s very dramatic, Mom,” I reply.
“This is a big deal, Eve,” she says, “you went to community college and then commuted to Manhattan. You’ve never lived on your own.” She looks somber. “I know you’ll have Ryan to keep you company, but it’s not the same.”
“I know, Mom. But I won’t be far, and I will definitely be coming here for some of your cooking,” I answer with a smile.
“I hope so,” she says, smiling back.
“I’m going to miss having you here, too, but if we don’t get a move on, we will never be able to park and unload,” my father chimes in, draining his mug.
“Thanks, Dad. You always know how to make me feel loved,” I reply.
I get up and bring my dishes to the sink. Mom gets up also, and when the table is cleared, we give each other a hug.
“Sure you don’t want to come?” I ask her.
“Yes. I don’t think I’ll fit, anyway. I’ll come in a couple of days to help you unpack and settle. Call me if you need me sooner.” she adds with a smile and another hug.
>
“Okay, ladies. Time to go,” my father gruffs impatiently.
I embrace my mother one more time and my father and I walk out the door. The truck is packed full of boxes, so my mother was right—she wouldn’t have fit, anyway. Traffic is light this time of day, so the drive in is easy. We make some small talk and my father lectures me on all the safety rules he thinks I need to know.
We go through the tunnel and I direct him to my new building. We pull up in front, and of course, there is no parking. We drive around in circles for what feels like hours before we find a spot a short distance away. When it’s time to unload, he will just double park—at least, that’s what I think I hear him grumbling under his breath.
As we walk up to the building, I see my father eyeing the surrounding area. I know he is sizing it up for his own judgment and to share with my mother when he gets home. He lets me lead the way up the stairs to the entrance.
“Follow me,” I say, starting up the first flight of stairs inside the building.
“Good thing you’re in shape, Eve,” he says as he climbs the stairs behind me. “I can’t imagine doing this every day. How many flights up are you again?”
“Just three,” I answer. “Almost there.”
We arrive at the landing on the third floor and I see the door to the apartment is ajar. Ryan must have started early. I push it open, and right on the other side are Ryan and Tony. Even though it’s chilly outside, it’s hot in here. Both of them are shirtless and my stepfather isn’t even trying to hide the look of disapproval on his face.
They appear to be finishing the divider wall they must have started this morning. Tony is tall and lanky and is almost unnoticeable with Ryan next to him. The sweat on Ryan’s skin is making his chiseled chest glisten in the damp light. Every muscle is accentuated and bulging from exertion. I swallow, hard. It’s not like I’ve never seen Ryan without a shirt on, but the way he just made me feel when I walked in the door was definitely more than friendly.
“Hey, Eve! Hi, Mr. Thompson,” Tony says, offering his hand to my father.
“Hi,” my father answers, staring at Tony with his brow creased.
“This is Tony, Dad,” I interrupt. “You met at a couple of performances.” They shake hands, but I can tell Dad is more focused on Ryan.
“Thanks for helping out dad,” Ryan says cheerfully, also extending his hand.
“Don’t mention it,” Dad answers warily.
“We got here really early this morning, so we went ahead and started building the wall,” Ryan explains, proudly pointing at their handiwork.
“Great,” Dad answers, “It looks like you did a half decent job of it.”
“This looks awesome!” I say, trying to displace some of the tension in the room. “Do I have to paint it?” I’m not looking forward to that project.
“You do,” Tony answers, holding up a roller, “but we’re just about done, so you can start. Just throw a quick coat up and another later, and we are good to go.”
“When is your bed being delivered, Eve?” my father asks.
“Later this afternoon,” I reply, sure of why he is asking.
“Good. Let’s get to painting, then,” he suggests as he takes off his coat. “I assume there will be a door here?”
“Of course,” Ryan jumps in. “They didn’t have the size we needed today, so we’ll check somewhere else tomorrow.” I think the look on my father’s face and his line of questions is putting everyone on edge. Maybe accepting his help wasn’t the best idea.
“I will go out and find a door later today,” Dad offers.
“Thanks, Mr. Thompson, that would be helpful,” Tony replies, looking as uneasy as everyone else now.
Tony plays some music on his iPod and we all get to work. My father loses himself in the paint project and I start cleaning. I take some supplies and begin in the kitchen. We are all happily going about our business individually, some light conversation going on amid it all. When I finally emerge from the small, but now spotless kitchen, I can tell the discomfort has lifted a bit and everyone is getting along. I know my stepfather likes his son, but I understand why he is hesitant about our decision to live together. I might not have been his biological daughter, but he was very protective…
“Anyone hungry?” I ask. “I was going to run out and pick up some food.” They all think food and coffee is a great idea. I get my jacket and purse and start to leave.
“I’ll come with you,” Tony offers. “I could use some fresh air—and a break.”
“Sure,” I reply hesitantly. I hope my father doesn’t “accidentally” strangle Ryan while we’re gone, or worse, give him some kind of “man to man” talk. It’s not Ryan’s fault we’re moving in together. This whole thing was my idea.”
Tony just laughed as we quickly made our way outside. We didn’t have to go far, since there are several delis and convenience stores just up the block.
“Thanks for getting me out of there for a few,” Tony says, breaking the silence. “You can cut the tension with a knife.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” I reply. “I didn’t know dad would have such strong feelings about me and Ryan living together. He seemed pretty cool with it when I told him last week.”
“That was then, this is now,” Tony says as we enter the deli. “Now it’s real.” He grabs some chips off a shelf. “I’m sure he’s noticed the chemistry between you two in the past, so this is a lot to swallow.”
“Why does everyone seem to think there is something going on? Are Ryan and I the only ones who aren’t in on this secret romance people think we have going on?”
“Hey, I’m just saying. You two have always been close,” Tony says, laughing.
“There is no chemistry between us,” I answer defensively. “Just because a man and woman get along and enjoy each other’s company doesn’t mean they have to make it sexual.”
“No, but it usually does,” Tony replies with a shrug. “Just saying. It’s not like you’re actually related, you know.”
“Whatever,” I sigh. “Let’s just forget it and order some sandwiches.”
Tony and I pay for our food and carry back the bags and a tray of coffees to the apartment. We forget our discussion from the deli and instead talk about all the fun times we will have together now that Ryan and I are here amongst our friends.
We arrive back at the apartment just a short while later. Ryan and my father aren’t talking and laughing, but they are still here, so that’s a plus. I can only imagine what was said while we were out, and honestly, I don’t think I want to know.
We all sit down around the small kitchen table. Ryan brought it to the apartment along with his couch and coffee table. I was thankful to have at least the basics.
I try to make some conversation as we eat, but as the only woman in the room, I seem to be the only one that feels the need to talk. We talk somewhat while we finish our lunch, and then get back to work. The paint is definitely not dry, but my stepfather is determined to get the second coat on so he can go out and get a door to finish the job.
Even with the windows open and the chill in the air outside, the heat in the building is pumping and it is warm in here. We have the fan on trying to get the paint smell out, and I have stripped down to my tank top to clean the bathroom. I almost sucked it up and kept my sweatshirt on for my stepfather’s sake, but I can’t bear the heat anymore.
When the second coat of paint is complete, my father announces he is going to find a door. Ryan asks him to pick up a couple of random things while he is out. I half expect him to come back with a steel door and a deadbolt.
After Dad leaves, Ryan pulls me aside. We are standing in the tiny kitchen together leaning against opposite counters, but still so close. I’m glad he at least has a shirt on now. I didn’t like the feeling I got looking at him without it earlier.
“Just so you know, I don’t think dad is into the idea of us living together,” Ryan smirks.
“I hope he wasn’t too hard on you,�
� I say.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he replies. “I understand where he’s coming from, but everything is going to be fine. I’m not sure if he believes me, but he’ll see soon enough.”
“I know. Everyone thinks this is a bad idea. I just don’t think they get it.”
“Well, haters gonna hate, as they say,” Ryan replies. “Maybe they’re just jealous—I mean, look at us,” he says with a goofy smile.
“True. You’re probably right. I’m just glad it’s happening. I can’t believe this is our home now,” I add with wide eyes.
“Hell, yes! High-five, sister!” Ryan jokes, holding his hand up. I give him a lame high-five and laugh. The door buzzer rings and we look at each other. “Our first visitor!” I say excitedly and rush to the door to see who it is. I depress the button to ask who’s here. It’s the mattress delivery, so I buzz them up.
By the time the two men make it up to the third floor, they are sweating. We let them in and show them where to put it, and I give them a tip for walking up all the stairs. Tony decides to leave, since most of the hard work is finished anyway. We both thank him and he walks out with the delivery men.
The cleaning is done and the wall is drying, so we begin to unpack. I brought a bunch of milk crates to use as a temporary dresser, so I set them up and take out some of my things. I look in Ryan’s room and he is pretty much set up. His clothes are already hanging in the closet and the few things he has for decoration are out. The bed isn’t made, but I’m not sure it ever will be....
“Nice,” I comment as I look around, “Chicks are gonna dig this place.”
“I know, right? Although I’m not sure they’ll be interested in my bedroom décor,” he answers raising his eyebrows. “How’s yours looking?”
“Pretty blah right now. Bare mattress and milk crates,” I tell him, “Want to take a look?”