A New Apartment

All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.

~~~

"Hadley, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you've gotten along fine with a roommate this far."

"You haven't been living with her, Mom. Probably sixty percent of it is good, and forty percent is not so good. Sometimes, I need to go out, and Beth decides to spend an hour in the bathroom. Or, I go to get the half of my leftover sub, and Beth has eaten it. 'I'll pay for it,' she says, but that doesn't help me eat. There are other things, as well, just enough to make her very annoying."

"But it's nice to have someone to share the rent, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I have to weigh that against my sanity."

"I suppose," Mother conceded. "I just hate to see you waste your money."

"It's not wasted if it preserves my sanity," I said, laughing.

"I think you're exaggerating, but the final decision is up to you." She had that

But I think you're wrong

look on her face.

"Mom, I'm not wrong. You're only looking at it from one point of view, and you aren't me. Why are you so stubborn?"

"Hadley, I'm not being stubborn. But speaking of one point of view, that's exactly what I think you're doing."

"Stop treating me like a little girl. I'm a college graduate, and I'm able to make my own decisions about things." I could feel the heat building. "You fought me about getting an apartment in the first place, and now you're fighting me again. I know what I want and need."

"At twenty-five, I'm sure you know everything there is to know about life, and your old-fashioned mother is just out of it."

I paced across the room and back. We'd been through this before, and I didn't want to go through it again. I took a deep breath to calm myself.

"How about this, Mom? We'll give it a try for a while, and if it doesn't work out, we'll try something else. " I thought that saying

we'll ltry something else

might humor her just a touch.

"You're stubborn enough that I may as well agree with you so we can get on with our lives." But she wasn't quite finished. "Still, I think it would be good to talk with your father when he gets home from California."

"Mother, I'm twenty-five years old and technically defined as an adult."

She laughed. "I'm glad you added

technically defined

".

"I've been getting along fine for the past six months, and I'll do the same in the future in my own apartment."

I knew, for my own good, that I needed to talk with my father before I did anything. Otherwise, it would be endless

I told you so

if something didn't work out.

Five days later, he was home.

"What's this I hear about you wanting your own apartment?"

"Roommate problems, Dad."

"But we've been investing that rent you're saving and building a nice stock portfolio with it."

"I'll be frugal, Dad, and I'll keep putting away money you can invest."

"I certainly hope so. You'll appreciate that when you're much older."

I was twenty-five, and it was difficult to think about being sixty-five. I tried when I told Dad the money was ready and when he reviewed the portfolio with me. It just seemed so far away.

I was ready to go apartment hunting and knew that I needed to take my mother with me, or I'd hear criticisms every time she visited. I only needed one bedroom, so the rent would be less. I insisted on gated apartments, which provided more security, and I also preferred upper floors, security again, and lower noise level.

We found one we both liked and signed the papers. The following Tuesday was the first of the month, and I was to move in then. We asked to see the one I was renting but were told it was being repainted and would be ready, along with new furniture, on Tuesday. I was happy and anxious to move in.

~~~

My phone rang.

"Hi, Tara. Sup?"

"I'm bored."

"Have you ever been bored before?" I asked with a chuckle.

Most of the time, I think. "

"Speaking of bored, what's going on with you and Kyle?"

"I've finally figured out that I'm just a convenience for him. When he's bored and can't find anything else to do, he calls me. And I've been dumb enough to go along with it because I thought he really liked me."

"Serious stuff, Tara."

"Yeah, and the next few times he calls, I'm going to be busy. Hopefully, he'll get the message."

"Why don't you just tell him?"

"I'm not sure I could do it. Plus, I think he'd start yelling at me, and I'd cry."

"That wouldn't be good. So, did you just call to jabber a little?"

"I thought you might meet me at the DQ for a Blizzard or something like that."

"You said the magic word. I can be there in ten minutes.

"See ya there."

"These things are sooo good." Tara slurped some ice cream and Reese's off her spoon.

"Tell me about it. You've got ice cream on your nose."

"Oops. Thanks."

"I'm ready to move into my new apartment. More than ready."

"You getting a new roommate?"

"Absolutely not."

"You can't find some handsome stud to move in with you?"

"Humm, I wonder how that would work?"

"You probably wouldn't be bored," Tara said with a big laugh.

"If it's so good, why haven't you tried it?"

"With Kyle? Send me a handsome stud, and I might give it a try."

I tried to picture Tiny Tara with a big, handsome stud. It wasn't a good picture.

"I might do it," Tara said, but couldn't keep from giggling.

"I switched to a one-bedroom. Save a little money, although I had to argue with the parents."

We finished our Blizzards.

"You know, I teased you about a big, handsome stud, but you're a good-looking woman. You should have a guy chasing you."

"I wouldn't mind having a cool guy after me, but I haven't been looking, and I haven't seen anyone following me around."

"I guess we're both available, then," Tara added with a giggle. "Do you need help moving?"

"I've taken a day off, but I'll call you if I need help."

"I'm anxious to see your place. Maybe I'll bring a couple of Blizzards as an apartment-warming gift.

"Perfect. I'll be talking to you."

~~~

I took Tuesday off, loaded the family van with my things, and went to the apartment office. I picked up the magnetic cards for the gate and the apartment, anxious to get started. I stopped at the gate and held the card in front of the sensor, but nothing happened. I tried another two times with the same result. I sighed and returned to the office.

"The gate card didn't work," I said to the pleasant lady who had taken care of me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. That's unusual. Here's another card."

"I hope this isn't an omen," I said, laughing.

"I think you'll love it here." She was bubbly and very positive. I'd have to see.

I was in apartment 333. Building three, third-floor, apartment three. There were six apartments on my floor, three with one bedroom and three with two. I hadn't seen any of my floor mates yet, but I was anxious to meet them.

I thanked Ms. Bubbly and tried the gate again, successfully this time. At my building, the door card worked for both the main door and my kapartment. I came back to the van and began unloading. Most things were in bags, with a few in boxes, but it was still three flights of stairs. Finally, I'd carried it all inside, and I began to stow things away. When I went to empty the cooler into the refrigerator, it wasn't cold. I tugged it out from the wall and saw that the plug was in the socket. I pushed it in to be sure.

I sighed. An hour and there were already two problems. The apartment had a regular landline that was also connected to the office. I called, told them the apartment number, and that my refrigerator wasn't working. The lady apologized profusely and said she'd contact maintenance and let me know. I hoped she'd call soon as I hadn't put any ice in the cooler with my food, and I was afraid I'd have to hit a convenience store if something didn't happen quickly.

I finished putting a few more things away and tried to decide where I'd hang a few pictures. I was leaning them against the wall when the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Ms. Perry, this is the office. I spoke with maintenance, and they told me your new refrigerator was due yesterday, which isn't much help to you, but it should be here," she paused and cleared her throat, "any day."

"Any day?"

"I'm sorry, and I know that's not much help, but that's all the information I could get."

I knew it wasn't her fault, so there was no sense in grumbling to her.

"Listen, thanks for your help."

"No problem, and I'm sorry.

I decided to go ahead and get some ice since I had to have it eventually. There was a convenience store just a few blocks up the street, something good to know, and I picked up a bag of ice. I nervously tried the gate card, and it worked a second time. I filled the vacant space in the cooler with ice and put the remainder in the sink. I debated about hanging some pictures but decided to wait until tomorrow evening. I dug a TV dinner out of the cooler, and thank goodness, the microwave worked. I turned on the TV and tuned to The Big Ten Network to catch a replay of a women's softball game. I turned to the proper channel, and there was a message on the screen.

You are not subscribed to this channel

. A deep breath to calm myself, and I called the office again. This time, a man answered.

"Hello. How may I help you?"

"Hi. This is apartment three thirty-three. I'm supposed to have the premium package on my cable, and it looks like I don't have it."

"Uh-oh. Let me check." There was a moment's silence. "Yep, you're right. I'm going to call the cable people and see if we can get it turned on."

"Thanks, that would be great."

I settled in to watch an hour's worth of the evening news, which was reasonably informative. I tried The Big Ten channel again; there was softball. I called the office.

"This is 3-3-3. Thank you."

"Oh, great. Sorry for the original mistake."

"All good now."

All good except for my refrigerator.

In the morning I left for work, a shorter trip by seven miles than from my former apartment. I worked as the accountant for a family business that was growing nicely. Dad had wanted me to go with a big corporation, which he insisted would give me more chances for advancement, but the family had been very good to me, and I was content.

Several people at work asked me about the apartment and liked that I didn't have to drive so far. The owner even teased that I'd be able to work a little longer now. Things like that made me feel at home.

That evening, the same refrigerator. I called. Sympathy, but no results.

The same on Thursday.

On Friday, I called from the office.

"No refrigerator yet," the pleasant lady said.

"May I please talk with a manager?"

"Sure, hang on."

"Hello."

"This is apartment 333. I moved in on Monday, and my refrigerator hasn't worked."

"Yeah, sorry about that. There's one other person in the same boat."

"So, why don't I have a working refrigerator?"

"Our supplier has a problem and isn't able to deliver them."

"That's your problem, and you've made it my problem."

"Look, there's nothing I can do."

"Go to Lowe's or Home Depot and buy a refrigerator."

"Come on, you know I can't do that."

I could tell he was getting irritated with me.

"You could if you wanted to. You could find a way to hide it. I want a working refrigerator, and I'm getting tired of excuses." I wasn't usually this grumpy, but I was tired of buying bags of ice. Before long, the cooler would be empty since I wasn't buying any food to replace what I was eating.

"Lady, you can yell at me all you want, but it won't get your refrigerator any quicker. "

"I'm not yelling, although I'm angry enough to yell. And I'm sick of buying bags of ice."

" Geesh, we'll buy bags of ice and keep them in the office refrigerator for you."

"Oh, you have a refrigerator in the office?"

"You're freaking impossible. I can't help you, so I'm going to hang up."

The phone went dead.

Over the weekend, I stopped by my parent's house and told them about the refrigerator. Dad wanted to get involved, but I told him I was an employed college graduate and an adult, so I would handle it.

On Saturday, I checked the office for bags of ice, but there weren't any. I explained why I was calling, and an hour later received a call that there was now ice at the office.

On the following Monday, I spoke with the manager again.

"The refrigerator has been promised for Wednesday."

"You'll need one more bag of ice, then."

"What?" There were muffled voices. "We'll have the ice."

"Did you know my gate card didn't work, and I also had the wrong cable plan."

I heard a sigh. "No, I didn't, but evidently those got fixed."

"Yes, they did."

"Well, bless our little hearts."

"Wednesday, then." I wanted to get angry, but it wasn't worth it. I hoped I wouldn't have to deal with the manager again, and he was obviously disgusted with me for annoying him.

"Yep, bye."

Monday evening, with Dad out of town on a business trip, I called Tara.

"Hi, Had. How's the apartment?"

"Except for the refrigerator, not bad. But I'm already tired of looking at bare walls. Can you drive a nail?"

"That's so old-fashioned. I'll stop and get some of those plastic things with the sticky backs. I think they're easy to use."

"Oh, good. I'll try to have things arranged."

Mother had stopped by during the week and helped me decide where to put things, something I was trying to learn. I had lots of things to hang, and Tara's idea of using the plastic hangers would keep us from filling the walls with holes. I watched TV for about twenty minutes before Tara texted that she was at the gate. I sent back the four-digit code that could be used in lieu of the magnetic card, and, in two or three minutes, she came through the door.

"That code is cool. Otherwise, you'd have to walk down to the gate."

"No fun, that. Did you get the plastic hangers?"

We figured out how to use the hangers and went to work.

"This is sort of fun," Tara volunteered, "but you sure have a lot of things to hang."

"I know. Mom thinks it's some kind of a fetish, but she helped."

"Before I forget, the place where Mom works has a big summer picnic and fun day open to employees, family, and friends. I kind of committed you to going, too."

"Sounds like fun."

"There's a little more to it."

"What now, Tara." I was a little wary of the look on her face.

"Well, Mom and I had a bet, and I lost. She has someone she works with who she thinks would be perfect for me." Tara rolled her eyes. "So the picnic will be a blind date for us."

She still had the wary look and smile that worried me. "How do you mean,

us?

"Mom's friend told her he has a best friend who'd like to meet ... " She winked at me.

"Women, i.e., me."

"She told him I had a good friend who had no attachments."

"Go on."

Speaking almost unintelligibly fast, she said, "SoItoldheryou'dlovetobehisblinddate."

"You didn't."

"If you can't or won't do it, I can make an excuse for you."

"Nice. Make me feel like a dirty rat."

"So, does that mean you'll do it? Free food and a chance for a nice door prize."

"When is it?"

"Next Saturday afternoon."

"I guess if he's too bad, I can get, um, sick."

"You know, he's probably saying the same thing."

"We may both get sick before Saturday."

"How many blind dates have you had?" Tara asked with a chuckle.

"None, until this one. Some people are lucky with blind dates, though," I said with my fingers crossed.

"Mother says the guy she's lined up for me is super nice. He's, like, twenty-eight, so a few years older, but she doesn't know much about his background, other than his work background. So, it's up to me to find out, I guess."

"What about my guy?"

"Not a thing. She said her friend told her that you wouldn't be disappointed."

"Well, I reserve the right to strangle you to unconsciousness if he's a dud."

"Maybe it will be one of those Hallmark things where we end up trading dates at the picnic."

"I don't need Hallmark things, just a great guy."

"We'll both just have to see."

We continued hanging pictures while I pondered the idea of a blind date. I knew I should look at it as an adventure, a stepping out anew for me. Somehow, I was picturing it more like a gallbladder operation: something that had to be done but was scary and would be unpleasant. That's how Mom had described her couple of blind dates.

Wednesday, I came home from work to find marks on the living room and kitchen floors, but I had a new refrigerator, and it was working. I emptied the cooler and lugged it to my cubicle in the basement. Seeing the basement reminded me that my next big purchase should probably be a washer and dryer. I had an area along one wall reserved for my apartment with connections for both. Until then, I'd just haul my laundry to Mom and Dad's. It gave me an excuse to see them more often.

Despite my periods of wonder, anticipation, and dread, Saturday came, and I was to meet Tara and her mother at the picnic at ten. I debated about what to wear but chastised myself for over-thinking it. I finally decided on what I would wear to a picnic our family might have -- short shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers with my hair in a ponytail. I was about 5-7, had a moderate figure and red hair. I wondered what reaction the red hair would get.

I arrived at the park about ten minutes early, and the parking lot was nearly full. Tara had never said how large the picnic might be, and I was surprised. I headed for some buildings where I thought I might find them and was right. Tara's mother greeted me and thanked me for coming. Tara was standing beside a pleasant-looking guy with a big smile. Standing next to him was a man who made my breath catch in my throat.

Tara spoke up, gesturing toward the guys. "Hadley, this is my new friend, Ross Terry, and his good friend, Shaun Day."

Shawn extended his hand, and we shook.

"Hadley, so good to meet you, and I've been looking forward to today."

"Me too," I responded, matching his smile.

I wasn't sure that had been true, but once I saw him, it certainly was. He must be 6-3, very fit, and very, very handsome. I could only hope that he wouldn't be disappointed with me. So far, he was way, way more than I had expected.

"Why don't you guys get something to eat," Tara's mother said. I have a couple of things to do."

Ross said something to Tara, and they moved off toward a big tent stocked with lots of food. Shaun took hold of my hand, and we followed.

"I'd better warn you," he said with a laugh, and when I looked at him, he added, "I have a serious thing for redheads and freckles, too." I think he was waiting for my reaction to that, and I was having difficulty forming one.

"Well, I'm certainly a redhead with freckles," I finally responded, "so I guess you'll just have to put up with me."

"My pleasure," he replied, and I wondered what I might be in for.

We moved through the food offerings, filling our plates with some delicious-looking things. Shaun teased me about some of the things I'd picked, and when I'd reach for something, he'd poke me in the ribs and shake his head. The big smile never left his face, and I began playfully smacking his hand when he'd poke me. It became a game of one of us reaching for food and having to fend off the other as we did. By the time my plate was full, I was laughing so hard that I was barely able to keep from spilling it.