Caleb’s place turned out to be a garden apartment with its own entrance in a brownstone a few blocks from Borough Hall. Lauren had long thought “garden apartment” was just a euphemism for “ground floor,” but in this case, French doors at the back of the apartment really did lead out to a garden that the house’s owner maintained.
The apartment was nice, although sparsely furnished. There was a butter-yellow sofa in the narrow living room that faced a nice TV and several bookcases stuffed with veterinary textbooks, doorstopper history books, and some battered fantasy novels. A galley kitchen in the middle was small but had clearly been renovated recently, and it led to the bedroom in the back.
And, of course, there was the huge dog who hopped happily in greeting when Lauren and Caleb had walked through the door.
In other words, it was downright swanky for a bachelor apartment, and it demonstrated how fussy and clean Caleb was, and also how few things he owned, although Lauren guessed he’d lost some things in the divorce.
The poor dog was nearly apoplectic with excitement to be meeting a new person. Lauren knelt on the floor and scratched his ears. “Hi, buddy. I’m very happy to meet you, too.” He licked her face in response, which tickled enough to make her laugh.
Caleb dropped the takeout bag on a little table just outside the kitchen and said, “Dig in. I’m going to take Hank out back and then feed him.”
While Caleb took care of Hank, Lauren unpacked the bag of food from the Vietnamese restaurant. It seemed like they’d ordered half the menu, probably because Lauren had been indecisive. There were bun noodles and spring rolls and meat on skewers and a plastic tub of pho. She thought about raiding Caleb’s cabinets for plates and silverware, but he came back inside with Hank before she got there.
“Plates?” she said.
“Yeah, hang on. Be right with you.”
Lauren leaned in the archway that led to the kitchen and watched as Caleb went through what was probably his evening routine. He told Hank to sit, then crossed the kitchen and scooped some dog food from a huge plastic container into Hank’s bowl. Then he stood up and said, “Go get it.” Hank bounded across the kitchen and started gobbling up his food.
“He came trained,” Caleb said. “He was well cared for before he was left at the vet clinic. I can’t figure out why someone would just abandon a dog like that, but their loss is my gain, I guess. He’s a good dog.” He pulled a couple of plates from a cabinet and forks from a drawer and joined Lauren at the table.
They had a pleasant meal, carrying on conversation as easily as they had on their walk here while Hank nosed around at their feet waiting for food to drop. Caleb explained that he and his ex-wife had honeymooned in Asia, touring Japan, South Korea, China, Vietnam, and Thailand. They’d essentially eaten their way across all five countries. Even after all that had happened, he seemed nostalgic about the trip. He still loved Asian food.
“You know, it’s funny,” Lauren said. “I worked with a woman at Bloomingdale’s who once dated an Indian man, and after that relationship imploded, you couldn’t even say ‘tikka masala’ around her without her losing her mind. She’s missing out. I’d never let a man force me to give up Indian food. I love curry too much.”
“I tried that Indian place near the vet clinic. Their lunch special is more food than any human should eat in one sitting, but it’s so good I want to.”
Lauren laughed. “Yeah, that place is good. The Thai place on Bond Street is just okay. A little bland, but I like their pineapple fried rice. There was this great Thai place near my old apartment in Manhattan. The decor is kooky, but they make the best pad thai in Manhattan.”
“Where did you live before?”
“Upper East Side, but before you judge, I was on Second Avenue during peak subway construction when it was so loud all the old ladies who lunch moved out and rents went down, so I could afford it. It was a strange apartment. The toilet was in one little room on one end, and the rest of the bathroom was on the other. It made mornings with my roommate require some choreography.”
“Olivia told me when she first moved to the city after college, she lived in an Upper West Side studio that didn’t have a bathroom. She had to share with everyone else on the floor. I thought that kind of stuff was a myth.”
“Hey listen, moneybags, we all have to make sacrifices to afford to live here. If Diane didn’t give me such a steep discount, I couldn’t afford to live anywhere within three subway stops of the Cat Café.”
“Did the apartment come with the job offer?”
“No, actually. I was commuting from the Upper East Side, which was awful. I had to walk all the way to Lexington Ave to get the subway, then ride the train for an hour very early in the morning to make it to the café by opening, then walk another six blocks when I got here. So when my lease was up, I mentioned to Diane that I was thinking of moving closer, just in a, ‘Hey, if you know of anyone looking for a roommate in Brooklyn, let me know’ kind of way. I’d been working at the Cat Café for maybe six or seven months at that point. And Diane goes, ‘I just lost the tenants in a one-bedroom upstairs,’ and she offered it to me for a rent she knew I could afford, since she pays my salary. It’s basically half what anyone else in the neighborhood would pay for a one-bedroom.”
“Wow.”
“On the flip side, I’m kind of at her beck and call. I help her out with errands and stuff when she needs a hand. That’s the trade off, I guess. I don’t mind at all, though. She’s really very nice.”
Caleb frowned. “She’s nosy.”
Lauren smirked. “So you’ve met her.”
“I have, yeah. Always asks me a lot of questions about my personal life.”
“Yeah. She does that. Worse than my mom.”
They chatted about their families. Lauren’s parents lived near Columbus, Ohio, and she had a brother who was currently finishing his law degree at Georgetown. Caleb was an only child, and his parents lived in Maine. He did have a hint of a New England accent—there was something very Boston about the way he pronounced certain vowel sounds—but it had faded to the point that it wasn’t always detectable.
Talking and sharing personal trivia with Caleb was…nice. And it felt like a date. But she and Caleb weren’t even in a real relationship, were they?
“So you like food,” Caleb said.
