I don’t hear her talking or fake-laughing anymore. It doesn’t feel right to just knock on her door, and it doesn’t seem cool to just open my door right when she happens to be going back down to the laundry room and it definitely wouldn’t be cool for me to just go down and wait around for her to show up. I pick up my laptop and open up iMessages, type in her email address. Let’s see if Miss Farmer is still busy with work…
Me: If there’s an art emergency, I just want you to know that I’d be happy to wake up one of the other neighbors to get them to finish doing your laundry for you.
BF: Art crisis averted. You may continue being a surly neighbor.
Me: Surly?! Surely you don’t mean that. Would a surly neighbor buy you a hot dog from a street vendor when you were planning to do something else?
BF: …I really am sorry about—you know—what happened earlier…
Me: We’re done talking about that.
BF: Surly!
Me: I didn’t mean that in a surly way.
BF: How would I know that if you don’t include an emoji?
Me: I deeply regret texting you.
BF:
Me: How do you know I’m not still in the laundry room?
BF: How do you know I’M not still in the laundry room?
Me: Because you just asked me to accompany you back down there. Are you drinking MORE wine?
BF: …Shut up, McGovern.
I give Daisy a kiss on the head before grabbing more quarters and heading out the door. I’m willing to bet that Miss Farmer forgot to bring her own again. True to form, just as she steps out into the hallway and locks her door, she curses under her breath and starts to unlock it again.
“I got quarters,” I say. “Hot dogs are on you next time.”
She smiles as she holds out her hand. “My hero.”
“Once again, let’s not get too excited.” When my fingers graze the palm of her hand as I place the coins in it, I swear I notice her shiver again. She does look like she has magical fingers. Aunt Dolly was right about that.
She has changed out of her sexy black boots and into a pair of furry slipper boots, but it does nothing to dampen her appeal. We say absolutely nothing, all the way down to the basement. The overhead basement lights are on all the time, and while it’s far from romantic, I think it’s safe to say that we’re both acutely aware of how sexy it feels to be the only two people down here in the middle of the night. To be honest, it feels sexy to be the only two people living on the top floor of this building as well. It almost feels like we’re roommates more than neighbors.
But we aren’t.
We are two steps away from being something other than friendly neighbors, and I am so ready to take those steps.
I put my wet dark clothes into the dryer and start folding the dry light-colored ones on the table along the back wall of the room, while Bernadette hastily shoves all of her wet clothes into the dryer. It’s kind of refreshing, this lack of reverence for her clothes. The two women I’ve lived with—my mother and Vanessa—gave their wardrobes the same careful consideration and attention as their skin and hair, which meant that any tear, stain, split-end, wrinkle or pimple signaled the end of the world.
My back is to Bernadette, but when I hear her exhale loudly as her feet land on the floor, I know without a doubt that she has just tried to jump up on top of the dryer, but her tight jeans limit her ability to move.
I walk over to her. She turns to face me, and before she says a word, I’ve lifted her up by her waist, and set her down on top of the machine. I go back to the folding table before she can clear her throat and say “thank you.”
“So you’re on call twenty-four seven, huh?”
“Yeah. I mean. Within reason. You probably think it’s silly to be at his beck and call, but a lot of people are relying on him to complete this series of paintings he’s working on, and if I can prevent him from having a meltdown it’s no small feat.”
“I don’t think it’s silly. I think your job is important and it’s adorable that you have a crush on your boss.”
I look over my shoulder at her. She wrinkles her nose at my use of the word “adorable.” Too bad she looks so adorable when she wrinkles her nose.
“Do not call me that.”