Page 22 of The New Couple in 5B
I’m embarrassed but I tell him the truth. “It’s a charm my grandmother sent to protect me from—”
His hazel eyes are full of love, curiosity. I feel my cheeks burn. “From?”
“From evil.”
I practically choke on the word because it’s silly, isn’t it? There’s no such thing as spiritual evil. No pouch of herbs or stones can protect us from the real dangers of this world.
Chad glances back and forth between me and the pouch, then he shrugs his broad shoulders. “Well, we can use all the help we can get.”
I don’t tell him that it’s useless now that he’s touched it, moved it from its place over the door. It came in the mail, and I handled it very carefully as my grandmother’s note instructed. I never opened it, because you’re not supposed to. It’s my grandmother’s charm, her energy and magic, not to be meddled with. I don’t say any of that because that’s just more silliness.
“True,” I say. “Here, I’ll put it in my bag.”
He hands it over and I drop it in my tote next to my laptop. It jingles softly. I should just throw it in the trash.
“It holds on, doesn’t it?” he says.
I nod. He puts a cool hand to the back of my neck. Chad was raised Catholic, but he’s lapsed, both his parents gone in a car wreck while he was finishing high school. He still crosses himself when something bad happens to someone, runs into churches we pass to light candles for his parents. We can try to escape what we come from, but it stays with us in all sorts of ways.
“Let it all go, Rosie,” he says, bright, hopeful. “It’s a new day for us. Can’t you feel it?”
He’s been a bit down about the commercial, but he has a big audition tomorrow, this one for the lead in a television series.
I’m about to agree but he moves in fast and sweeps me off my feet. I am laughing and shrieking as he carries me out the door.
He does it again at the threshold of the new place, earning whoops of delight from Ella, Charles and Abi, who have all gathered to welcome us.
“You were never romantic like that,” Ella teases Charles, watching from our shared foyer on the fifth floor.
“I was!” Charles says, his voice gravelly, his German accent light from so many years in the States. “Iam, my love.”
He’s elegant in a cashmere sweater and pressed wool pants, white hair slicked back dramatically. Tall, powerful.
“Let’s leave these two to get settled,” he says. “And I’llshowyou how romantic I can be.”
I hear her giggling like a much younger woman as the door closes behind them. Abi, who has ushered us up, says his goodbyes, as well, and disappears into the elevator.
“We’re home,” Chad says when we’re alone, putting me down on the shining wood floor of the small foyer.
The natural sunlight is bright and streaming in through the big windows. The hunks have not yet arrived, though they left before we did, so everything is white and new—a blank canvas, an empty page—full of endless possibilities.
I allow myself a rush of joy.
The rest of the day passes in a blur—the hunks arriving and hauling our stuff up in the service elevator, in through the back door, through the kitchen.
Ella and Charles come by around noon with a picnic basket of sandwiches and wave off our offer for them to stay, saying we need the day to ourselves to settle in but come by for a quick welcome cocktail tonight.
“Come as you are!” Ella is stylish in her black jumpsuit and pointy flats. “Do not dress up.”
When the movers place the couch, it’s perfect for the room. It had been way too big for our place, dominating the space and making it impossible for us to have end tables or shelves.
It’s aspirational, Chad used to say.It’s for the apartment we wish we had.
Well, here we are.
The hunks assemble the bed, flop the mattress on top, lug the dresser in, careful not to nick the newly painted walls or chip those original wood floors.
The only thing we’ve kept of Ivan’s is the dining room table he said had been there from the previous owners. It was, according to Ivan, custom built for the narrow space, which is little more than a passage from the kitchen to the living room but has big windows and an elegant metal chandelier.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22 (reading here)
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138