"Oh? There's more?"
"I found a place," Linda blurted. "You won't believe it... it's like something out of a movie."
"Like Breakfast At Tiffany's? Or The Shining?"
"Neither," she laughed. "It was an old hotel that some guy turned into apartments. The rooms are enormous and it's only five hundred a month..."
"Five hundred? Are you going to be living in one of the closets?"
"No, I'm serious. It's beautiful. You have to come with me when I move in. It's a single girl's dream come true."
"What part of town?"
"It's not in Scranton. It's about an hour away..."
"An hour?" Theresa shouted. "I'll go broke just paying bus fare."
"But you can stay the weekend," Linda said. "There's an extra bedroom with your name on it."
"Well, as long as I'm not paying for this room with my name on it, I guess we can make some arrangements."
"You're going to love it!"
"Anything you can do to get away from that asshole is fine with me." Theresa slurped the rest of her soda through the straw and played with the wet circle the glass had left behind on the table. "Seriously, though. I'm happy for you. Get away from Scranton, away from Christian. I should do the same. It's one thing feeling comfortable with your surroundings, but something completely different when you keep bumping into every ex-boyfriend you've had since the eighth grade."
"Maybe there are rooms available. I can ask if you'd like."
"I have enough problems. Another bill isn't high on my list of priorities."
They quieted as a waiter stepped up to the table and removed a small notebook from his pocket.
"What can I get you?"
"I'll take a Sprite, please," Linda said.
Theresa shook her empty glass so the ice tinkled.
"Two drinks," he said. "Will that be all?"
Linda was about to ask for a menu when Theresa shook her head and said, "That's it."
The waiter nodded, took Theresa's glass and disappeared into the kitchen.
"You're not eating?" Linda asked.
"Not today, Lin. I have some ex-boyfriend drama of my own to take care of."
"Oh, no. Michael?"
"Still owes me six hundred bucks for the tires I paid for. It's probably the most expensive thing on that rusty piece of shit."
"So you're not going to kiss and make up?"
"Kissing my ass, maybe."
Linda laughed but was all too familiar with the long and storied past of Theresa's relationship with Michael. This time next week, the two of them would be announcing their wedding on social media.
"So when are you moving?" Theresa asked.
"This weekend if nothing changes. You really will love it."
"As long as you love it, that's what counts. You deserve to be happy." The waiter returned with their drinks, smiled, and walked away. "What are you going to do about work?"
Linda sighed and shook her head. "I haven't decided yet. I can put in for a transfer if I'm lucky. Until then, I guess I'll be commuting."
"Sounds like you have some decisions to make. Maybe you should have thought about that before you fell in love with the place."
"I know, but I couldn't turn it down. I'm usually not so impulsive, but something like this only comes along once in a blue moon."
Theresa sipped her soda and placed it down with a thud. "You're supposed to be the smart one and I'm supposed to be the one who makes bad choices. I'm feeling a disturbance in the force... the cosmos is laughing at us."
"So, you're coming with me on Saturday?"
"You're damn right I'm coming with you. Do you think I'd miss a chance to get away from here and get drunk? We are getting drunk, right? Please tell me we are!"
"Your wish is my command." Linda closed her eyes and mentally grasped at the tattered fragments of her dream. She snickered, shook her head, and said, "You know, I had a hell of a dream about the place last night."
"Oh?"
"There were people all dressed up like it was the 1930s... some bizarre costume party or something."
"So it is like The Shining after all?"
"No ghosts. Real people. A lot of sex."
"I hope it's a premonition. We'll break in your new apartment with a bang."
"It wasn't like that," Linda explained. "It was... classy. Like some high society orgy."
"A classy orgy. I've never heard those two words put together before. Hey, count me in. I can use a sugar daddy in my life right now."
"My new landlord... he was there."
"And you have a sexy landlord? Now I see why you're so eager to move in."
"He's old enough to be my dad!"
"Big deal. Sean Connery is old enough to be my granddad and I still wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers."
"You old whore!"
"Hey, we all have our special talents."
They erupted into booming laughter, snorting and trying not to make fools of themselves, but the restaurant was still empty except for a man Linda hadn't noticed before. He sat in the corner, wearing khakis and a button-down shirt; a cup of coffee sat on the table next to a newspaper he pretended to read. He looked up and the laughter died in Linda's throat.
His piercing blue eyes looked just like those of the doorman she'd seen in her dream. She imagined him wearing an awful mask and was taken aback by the striking resemblance.
"You okay?" Theresa asked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing... I'm fine."
She followed Linda's gaze to the man in the corner, frowned, and asked, "You know him?"
"No. He just looked familiar for a second."
"He's kinda cute," she whispered.
Linda exhaled a quick breath to clear her mind. "You need to find a man before you embarrass yourself."
"All the good ones are taken or gay." This was something Linda had heard Theresa's mother say on more than one occasion. Their colorful love lives were something mother and daughter shared. "Maybe I'll meet this cute landlord of yours."
"I never said he was cute, I said he was old."
Theresa waved her hand and raised her brow. "Age has its merits."
As they sipped their drinks, they caught up on gossip having nothing to do with landlords, sex, and pissant ex-boyfriends. Neither of them noticed the frequent glances from the man in the corner, and neither paid attention twenty minutes later when he followed them outside with his newspaper tucked under his arm. He stepped into a nondescript sedan parked around the corner and sped off.
***
There was no point trying to remain productive after their short lunch meeting. Linda returned to her parents' house and plopped on the couch as her father worked in the garage. It would be strange living alone again. She'd gone from her parents' house to a quick tenancy at another apartment, to Christian's, and right back to the bedroom she'd grown up in. Hearing Thomas tinkering in the garage immediately made her feel homesick. Although it wasn't ideal having her parents still watching her every move, it was comfortable, familiar, something she had always taken for granted.
She watched a documentary about meerkats without paying any attention. She waited until her stomach grew louder than the television to get up, grab a couple frozen corn dogs, and toss them in the microwave. Christian was right about one thing - she could ruin a bag of popcorn. It was one more thing she'd miss about living at home. Her mother was an excellent cook; she never skimped on all things greasy, fried, and otherwise unhealthy. Linda had put on at least ten pounds since living at home, but she didn't regret a single meal, a single second helping, or every extra piece of garlic bread to go with her spaghetti. Maybe it was time to raid the cupboards and find her mother's recipe book; there was no time like the present to learn.
Before her curiosity got the best of her, her appetite took over. She grabbed a corn dog from the microwave and ate it right at the counter, savoring every bite. She hadn't finished with the first when she rummaged in the freezer to see what else her mo
ther had secreted away behind the ice cube trays.
"Find anything good?" Thomas entered the kitchen, wiping his greasy hands on a dirty towel. He reached into the microwave, removed the second corn dog, and ate half in one bite.
"Hey, I was eating that!" Linda scolded.
"No, you weren't. You still have one in your hand."
Linda laughed and grabbed two more from the freezer. "Where's Mom?"
"At the store," he replied. "Likely buying you some things for the new apartment."
"She doesn't have to do that."
"Tell that to her. She'll probably have your entire apartment decorated before you even move in."
"Sounds like she's glad I'm leaving."
"Not at all, but if she doesn't keep busy, she'll be climbing the walls."
"Do you think I'm making a mistake?" she asked. "Are you two going to be okay with me living an hour away?"
"Somehow, I think we'll manage," he joked. "At least I'll have the couch back."
She slapped him on the arm and laughed. "I'm being serious. I know how Mom gets. She'll be a handful."
"We've lasted this long; something must be working."
"Are you going to turn my room into a den like you always talked about?"
Her father took a moment to chew and ponder the question. He had always wanted a den but had never made the time. Besides, if Linda needed a place to stay, she'd have to sleep somewhere.
"I'll think about it," he said. "For now, let's worry about getting you set up."
"Dad, I can't wait for you to see it. I don't understand how it has been kept such a secret. It's probably a little big for me, but I couldn't pass it up... it's... the living room... Dad?"
Linda realized her father was no longer listening. Instead, he stared at the front window with a scowl on his face. She watched him clench a fist and cross the room in three large strides, stopping at the window and pulling the curtain aside with a growl.
"Goddammit!" he shouted. "Stay right there you son of a bitch. Don't you move."
"Dad, what it is?"
"Stay there," he warned. "That bastard was staring right in the damn window."
Thomas flung the front door open and bounded down the front steps as the man stepped into a waiting car and slammed the door behind him. He was sure it was Christian, but as he glimpsed the man's face, he knew otherwise.
An older model, gray sedan rolled away from the curb, trailing a cloud of oily smoke. He blinked to clear his eyes as the man in the rear turned his head and smiled. Thomas was no longer interested in what the stranger had been doing at their window, he was more focused on the bulbous, wet blob of flesh perched atop the man's shoulders. His mouth opened wider, seemingly coming unhinged; a long, pink tongue lolled from between two purple lips and licked the inside of the car's window, leaving a clear, sticky film behind.
Standing on the front lawn, Thomas watched the car speed away and turn the corner.
"Who was that?" Linda asked, running up behind him.
"No one. Must have had the wrong house," he replied, far more scared than he was willing to admit.
More like the wrong planet, he thought.
"Are you okay? You don't look so good?"
"I'm fine," he reassured her. "Let's go inside and make a few more of those corn dogs."
Linda complied, but when she pulled them from the microwave, her father no longer had an appetite.
Thomas wasn't sure he'd ever have an appetite again.
Chapter 4
The fun in moving to a new place wasn't in the actual moving, but rather in the finished product. Saturday morning had dawned cold and gray but had grown warm and humid by noon. Storm clouds hung overhead, teasing Linda with sporadic showers and slowing down the process to a near crawl. She didn't have much, but she didn't want to see it ruined by a sudden thunderstorm.
The elevator was a godsend. With the doors propped open, it allowed her and Theresa to fill it with boxes before sending it to the upper floor. Here they did the same thing, unloading everything at one time and dropping it in the apartment before going down for another load. Theresa's brother, Lenny, had come along for the ride and instantly became their broodmare, carrying most of the heavier stuff like her TV, books, and boxes of compact discs.
Theresa's first impression of the apartment was one of shock and awe.
"This is some Pretty Woman shit," she'd exclaimed. "What did you have to do to get in here?"
"Are you calling me a prostitute?" Linda asked.
"Honey, I'm not judging you. If you had to get on your knees for a few minutes, I'd call it a bargain."
It had been three hours since Theresa's first glimpse of the space, but each time she dropped another box on the floor, she paused to admire her best friend's new apartment. Sure, she was a little jealous, but she was also thrilled to see Linda so happy. After the nonsense with Christian, she deserved something that was her own.
If the weather hadn't become so finicky, they'd have finished in no time, but with the sky threating rain at any moment, they had long pauses of inactivity. Linda couldn't fit much in the Prius, but Theresa had borrowed her mother's station wagon, and Lenny had his new F-150 for some of the larger items. If not for them, Linda would have had to shell out extra money to rent a Ryder, and with a new place, every penny mattered.
It was after four when they moved the final boxes and sat on the leather couch with bottles of lukewarm beer. The weather had held off long enough to get everything inside, but within minutes, the sky opened and Delaney Street became a river. The view from Linda's windows was murky gray, but the light inside had a warm glow that banished the shadows. It was hard to believe this apartment was hers. If Linda hadn't stumbled on the ad, she could very well be settling for a drab, lonely, one-bedroom apartment in Wilkes-Barre. She wasn't a firm believer in fate, but whatever had intervened on her behalf was due a champagne toast and a hearty hug.
Theresa finished her beer, grabbed another, and said, "Where the hell is everybody? I haven't seen or heard anyone since we got here."
"My landlord said it's usually very quiet," Linda replied. "He was supposed to be here, too, but I guess he must have been held up somewhere."
"Oh, the cute landlord," Theresa said. "I'd like to see him for myself."
"I never said he was cute," Linda shouted.
"She thinks the guy from the Maytag commercials is cute," Lenny said. "Don't get her hopes up."
"I never said anything about Al being cute... I said he was old. I don't know how the two go together."
"You're on a first-name basis?"
"I'm on a first-name basis with most of my cashiers, but it doesn't mean I want to sleep with them."
"Give it time..."
Linda brushed her off with a wave of her hand and poked through the mountain of boxes, looking for her stereo and a particular CD to set the mood of her new place. After a few minutes, she found what she was looking for. She set the stereo atop the mantle, hooked up the speakers, and inserted the disc, filling the room with the electronic drum noise of Phil Collins.
"Oh, Lin," Theresa sighed. "How does someone so young have such terrible taste in music?"
"My father listened to this stuff all the time when I was a kid. I guess it just stuck."
"Your father has an excuse. He's old and he likes old music. Don't you have anything else in those boxes? Maybe something after 1940?"
Embarrassed, Linda went back to her CD boxes to look for something more age appropriate as the stereo stopped in the middle of 'Sussudio.' She quickly turned, expecting Theresa to have turned it off, but she and Lenny were still on the couch. It took a second to realize the lights had also gone off. It was only her first hour in her new place and already she was left without power.
"Sweet relief!" Theresa yelled.
Lenny had gone to the window, peering through the heavy rain. "Whole area is out. I hope you brought candles."
Linda frowned, hoping the same thing.
***
It took some time sifting through the piles of boxes to find Linda's stash of scented candles. The apartment had quickly become a cloying mixture of different scents, not necessarily unpleasant, but enough to burn her sinuses. She opened the windows hoping to air the place out.
"Now what?" she asked.
"Drink faster," Lenny replied. "Before the beer gets even warmer."
"Big brother for the win," Theresa said, patting him on the back and grabbing another bottle from the case. "What are the chances you have a liquor store around here?"
"I have no idea," Linda said. "I remember Al mentioning a restaurant nearby. And there's a pizza place down the block."
Lenny jumped up from the couch and pulled his keys from his pocket. "Point me in the right direction. My treat."
"Look it up on your phone. Abruzzi's I think it was."
Lenny typed in the name and waited for the results. "Right around the corner," he said. "Give me ten minutes."
He left the apartment and walked into the hall without another word. He tapped the screen on his phone and the flashlight came to life, illuminating the dark hallway in a cone of white light. He stood there for a moment, noticing for the first time that there were no stairs to this floor, only the single elevator at the end of the hall. He'd seen the stairs in the lobby - wide, polished oak risers with decorative balusters on either side. He found it strange and off-putting that the upper floors didn't have access. What if there was a fire? What if the elevator wasn't working? How would Linda get to and from her apartment?
"How do I get down?" he asked aloud. He walked to the end of the corridor, pressed the button for the elevator, and watched as the doors slid open. "Must be on a backup generator."
He stepped inside and turned just as the doors closed. In the brief second before they thumped shut, Lenny swore he saw someone standing at the end of the hall, wrapped in shadow, unnaturally tall, swaying slowly from side to side like a bar patron who'd had one drink too many. Before his eyes could focus on the form, the doors closed, and the car descended to the lobby.
Nothing like a power outage in unfamiliar territory to get the blood pumping, he thought. Even at thirty, the darkness was sometimes enough to give him a full-on case of the heebie-jeebies.
Tenants Page 4