I was officially movedin by midafternoon. I’d taken the night off work again to unpack and organize. Well, Eliza had offered it a few days back, and I’d gratefully taken her up on it.
Everyone had been exhausted but still friendly by the end of the day, and I’d promised them all kidneys should they ever need a transplant. Hopefully no one did, as I really only had the one to spare.
I still had to turn in my keys at the other apartment, but I didn’t have to do that until Monday. Tomorrow, Adleigh and I would go back and scrub it from baseboard to ceiling fan.
Once everyone left, I’d faceplanted on my freshly made bed—Eliza had insisted on making it the second it was moved in—and slept for three hours. The sounds of the bar down below awakened me.
It had started as a dull murmur, but as the night dragged on, the background sound increased to a steady roar. Especially if I had the windows open, like tonight, the sound funneled directly into my space. No wonder Will and Lola had to move before the baby arrived.
It didn’t really bother me. Most nights I’d be down there working, so the noise wouldn’t be a problem. Or at least, I’d be submerged in the middle of it.
Even now, though, I didn’t mind it. At least in this honeymoon phase of loving my new place. Honestly, the Saturday night buzz was comforting and familiar to me. I lived and breathed the nightlife, so it wasn’t a disappointment. If anything, I felt more at home in my new apartment than I did in my last one. Peace out, Eff Tits.
I heated leftover pizza—that Charlie had graciously put into my nearly empty refrigerator, box and all—on a paper plate, sat down on my couch, and surveyed the room, trying to figure out what to put where.
There was so much to do. Packing everything up had taken me a solid week and a half, and I’d had help. Now that I was settled, I wanted to be settled in too.
The floor-to-ceiling windows let in the most golden light in the afternoon, but now it was all starlight and downtown vibes. The walls were exposed brick except in the kitchen, where drywall had been installed and painted the coolest peacock blue. The backsplash was white subway tiles. The cabinets were a paler shade of blue with glass fronts. And the kitchen island was speckled white granite. My bed, nightstand, dresser, and leather ottoman were arranged in one corner to make a bedroom. And my desk, bookshelves, yoga mat, and weights were in another. A luxurious bathroom was between the office side of the house and the kitchen. The final corner was left for my living room area.
Even though it was a studio, there was way more square footage than in my last apartment. My few things felt minuscule in the large, open space with its high vaulted ceilings. I smiled to myself, enjoying soaking up that this was where my life had brought me.
Things weren’t easy or smooth, but I had worked hard. My life had produced good, beautiful things. Yes, hard things too. Traumatic things. Things I was still healing from. But also, these days of mine had turned into a gorgeous, full, happy life. And sitting on my couch with a plate of cheap pizza and the lively sounds of the place I loved so much keeping me company, I was bursting with gratitude.
My phone pinged with an incoming text. It was my dad.
Chris:Sorry, baby girl. Got stuck at work. Let me know if you need help with anything else. Should be free tomorrow.
Gah.Baby girl.
I genuinely hated that he called me baby girl. Thirty was just around the corner. I was a grown-ass woman with a job and a gorgeous new apartment. I didn’t need the ghost of Dad past calling me by a cheap nickname he’d waited over twenty years to use.
He had no fucking right.
The text message was written before I could stop myself. Please refrain from calling me baby girl. I am neither a baby nor a little girl. And I wouldn’t have liked being called either even when I was those things.
But before I could press send, Adleigh texted.
Adleigh:I guess Dad got called into work today. Bummer. I really wanted him to meet Shane. I’m thinking about having everyone over here for supper. You in?
I erased my original text to my dad and went a more neutral route.
Me to Chris:No worries.
Me to Adleigh:Probably a blessing in disguise. We could be sitting at the ER instead of relaxing tonight. Do you want to be responsible for buying the man a new hip?
Adleigh:Supper next week?
My heart pinched when she didn’t respond to my attempt at a joke. But I also had to check my own attitude. I was already waiting for Chris to fail, which wasn’t fair to Chris. Or Adleigh. Or me.
Something Charlie had shared the other day niggled at my hard wall of self-protection. And as I remembered the day and why I was so flush with gratitude, I had to acknowledge it was because I’d built a family I could count on and trust. I’d filled my life with people I cared about and who I knew cared about me too. And they showed up for me.
Today taught me that it was okay to count on people. They might not always get it right, and the people I loved the most would always have the potential to hurt me the most. But I didn’t have to always do things myself.
So if Chris was going to be in my life? He needed to be someone I could count on.
He needed to be someone I could trust.
I took another bite of pizza and let myself make room for him in my brain. Obviously, these were big feelings for me, feelings I usually tried to protect and hide away. But we could work up to the more nuanced emotions over time. Today, I just decided to let him exist in my head without trying to push him away.
