‘Hey, babe. I thought you guys could use some help today.’ He held up a Bagelry bag that I knew would contain salt bagels, my favorite, and some large coffees. ‘Are your parents here yet? I brought them coffees, too.’
‘I thought you had to tutor today,’ I said just as Shanti emerged from her bedroom wearing a black pantsuit. She hung her head as she walked past us, mumbled something about working all day, and left. We so seldom talked, I wondered if she realized today was my last day in the apartment.
‘I did, but I called the two little girls’ parents and both said that tomorrow morning was fine with them, so I’m all yours!’
‘Andy! Alex!’ My father stood in the doorway behind Alex, beaming as though this were the best morning on earth. My mom looked so awake I wondered if she was on drugs. I did a quick once-over of the situation and figured that they would rightly assume that Alex had just arrived since he was still wearing his shoes and was obviously holding recently purchased food. Besides, the door was still open. Phew.
‘Andy said you couldn’t make it today,’ my dad said, setting down what looked like a bag of bagels – also salt, no doubt – and coffees on the table in the living room. He deliberately avoided eye contact. ‘Are you on your way in or out?’
I smiled and looked at Alex, hoping he wasn’t already regretting what he’d gotten himself into so early in the morning.
‘Oh, I just got here, Dr Sachs,’ Alex said gamely. ‘I rearranged my tutoring because I thought you two could use another pair of hands.’
‘Great. That’s great – I’m sure it’ll be a big help. Here, help yourself to bagels. Alex, I’m sorry to say that we didn’t get three coffees since we didn’t know you’d be here.’ My dad looked genuinely upset, which was touching. I knew he still had trouble with his youngest daughter having a boyfriend, but he did his best not to show it.
‘No worries, Dr S. I brought some stuff, too, so it looks like there’s plenty.’ And somehow, my dad and my boyfriend sat down on the futon together – without a trace of awkwardness – and shared an early-morning breakfast.
I sampled salt bagels from each of their bags and thought about how much fun it would be to live with Lily again. We’d been out of college for nearly a year now. We’d tried to talk at least once a day, but it still felt like we hardly ever saw each other. Now, we would come home to each other and bitch about our respective hellish days – just like old times. Alex and my dad prattled on about sports (basketball, I think) while my mom and I labeled the boxes in my room. Sadly, there wasn’t much: just a few boxes of bed linens and pillows, another of photo albums and assorted desk supplies (even though I lacked a desk), some makeup and toiletries, and a whole bunch of garment bags filled with un-Runway-esque clothes. Hardly enough to warrant labels; I guess it was the assistant in me kicking in.
‘Let’s get moving,’ my dad called from the living room.
‘Shhh! You’ll wake Kendra,’ I loudly whispered back. ‘It is only nine in the morning on a Saturday, you know.’
Alex was shaking his head. ‘Didn’t you see her leave with Shanti before? At least, I think that was her. There were definitely two of them, and they were both wearing suits and looking unhappy. Check their bedroom.’
The door to the room they managed to share by bunking their beds was ajar, and I pushed it open slightly. Both beds were made meticulously, pillows fluffed and matching stuffed Gund dogs propped up on each. I didn’t realize until then that I’d never so much as stepped foot in their room – in the few months I’d lived with these girls, we hadn’t had a conversation of longer than thirty seconds – I didn’t know exactly what they did, where they went, or if they had any friends besides each other. I was glad to be leaving.
Alex and my dad had cleaned up the leftover food and were trying to map out a game plan. ‘You’re right, they’re both gone. I don’t even think they know I’m leaving today.’
‘Maybe leave them a note?’ my mom suggested. ‘Maybe on your Scrabble board.’ I’d inherited my father’s addiction to Scrabble, and he had a theory that each new home required a new board so I was leaving the old one behind.
I took the last five minutes in the apartment to make the tiles read, ‘Thanks for everything and good luck XO Andy.’ Fifty-nine points. Not bad.
It took an hour to pack both of the cars up, with me not doing much more than propping open the door to the street and guarding the vehicles while they went back upstairs. The bed movers – who were charging more than the actual cost of the damn thing – were running late, so my dad and Alex each started downtown. Lily had found our new apartment through an ad in the Village Voice, and I hadn’t even seen it yet. She’d called me at work from her cell phone in the middle of the day, screaming, ‘I found it! I found it! It’s perfect! There’s a bathroom with running water, a wooden floor that only has minimal warping, and I’ve been here four full minutes and haven’t seen a single mouse or even a roach. Can you come see it immediately?’
‘Are you high right now?’ I whispered. ‘She’s here, which means I’m not going anywhere.’
‘You have to come now. You know what it’s like. I have my folder and everything.’
‘Lily, be reasonable. I couldn’t leave the office right now for an emergency heart transplant if I needed one, without getting fired. How can I come look at an apartment?’
‘Well, it’s not going to be here in thirty more seconds. There are at least twenty-five other people at this open house, and they’re all filling out applications. I need to do this now.’
In the obscene world of Manhattan real estate, semilivable apartments were rarer – and more desirable – than seminormal straight guys. When you added semiaffordable into the mix, they became harder to rent than your private island somewhere off the southern coast of Africa. Or probably harder. No matter that most boasted fewer than three hundred square feet of dirt and rotted wood, pockmarked walls, and prehistoric appliances. No roaches? No mice? This one was a keeper!
‘Lily, I trust you, just do it. Can you e-mail me a description?’ I was trying to get off the phone as quickly as possible since Miranda was due back from the art department any second. If she saw me on a personal call, I was finished.
‘Well, I have copies of your paychecks – which, by the way, really suck … and I’ve got both our bank statements and printouts of our credit histories and your employment letter. The only problem is our guarantor. It has to be a tristate resident who makes more than forty times our monthly rent, and my grandmother sure as hell doesn’t make a hundred grand. Can your parents sign for us?’
‘Jesus, Lil, I don’t know. I haven’t asked them, and I can’t very well call them right now. You call.’
‘Fine. They do make enough, don’t they?’
I wasn’t really sure, but who else could we ask? ‘Just call them,’ I told her. ‘Explain about Miranda. Tell them I’m sorry for not calling myself.’
‘Will do,’ she said. ‘But let me make sure we can get the place. I’ll call you back,’ she said and clicked off the phone. The phone rang again twenty seconds later, and I saw her cell phone number on the office phone caller ID. Emily raised her eyes in that special way she did when she heard me once again talking to a friend. I grabbed the phone but spoke to Emily.
‘It’s important,’ I hissed in her direction. ‘My best friend is trying to rent me an apartment over the phone because I can’t leave here for a goddamn—’
Three voices attacked me at once. Emily’s was measured and calm and carried with it a warning tone. ‘Andrea, please,’ she’d started, at the exact same time