“I don’t know what womenyourage are used to doing at night,” I opened. She had gotten on my last nerve now, and I didn’t care if I was brutal. “But I usually work quietly at night. And sometimes go out. But, since everything seems dead around here, I don’t think that will be an option. And any other noisy activity, I’ll wait till I’m back home.”
“Great. Then we’re aligned.” Behind her somber face, I could see her fighting to regain full composure. It showed in the little twitch of her lips. “Based on my nephews, I just … thought—”
“Who are what—eighteen?”And can maybe afford a PlayStation?The only way I could have afforded one growing up was if I had stolen it.
“Nineteen.” She cleared her throat then added, “I wanted to make sure we’re not just familiar with each other’s daily habits but also aligned on expectations while we share space. This isn’t San Francisco.” No more stuttering. “Also, a few times a week, I go for a jog on the beach first thing in the morning. And I do yoga on other days, usually here.” She pointed at the carpet.
I recalled the coded timetable on the fridge, which suddenly made sense.
“Any sports you do?” she asked, business as usual, her face as stern as before, but I could see that she was trying not to seem interested in my arm that I had just sprawled over the headrest of her sofa.
“I go for walks, usually at night,” I said. “What about friends, going out—things like that?”Dates, I wanted to add but didn’t. I couldn’t imagine this woman dating, and in any case, no one would ask a married couple aboutthat.
“Sometimes I meet with a friend. Nothing too frequent.”
As if she had more than she could bear, June tapped her palms on her thighs and got to her feet. “I’ll show you how the sofa opens and get you a blanket, a pillow, a sheet. You can use the shower, as well. I’ll show you how.”
“I already put my clothes in your closet and took a shower. I hope that’s okay. I thought I’d leave the shower free for you when you came back home.”
“Oh. Sure. Yes, I appreciate that.” She seemed positively surprised but also flustered at my invasion of her privacy. “The bed then.” She began removing the cushions from the sofa.
I got to my feet and pushed the coffee table far enough to allow the sofa to fully open. I then helped her pull the stubborn part from beneath it. She let out a breathy, effortful groan when the thing came out at last and almost fell back. An instinct had me extending my arm to support her back.
June straightened up. “Thanks. It’s a bit heavy, but you’ll have to do this daily; otherwise, it clutters the whole place.” She waved a hand around.
The studio did look even smaller now with the coffee table reaching the segmented space of the kitchen and the sofa looking like a double bed.
She left toward the large walk-in closet and came back with a pillow, a duvet, and a white sheet.
I took them from her.
“I’ll help you,” she said.
“No need. I’ll do it. But I think I’ll go for a walk now and let you have some privacy. I’ll get to see more of the town, too. Homework.”
She wiped a hand across her forehead, pushing back a few strands of hair that fell onto it. “Okay. Thanks.”
“I’ll use the key. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
She was still standing there when I closed the front door behind me and locked it.
I emerged onto Ocean Avenue, a few feet from the door of June’s green health shop. Everything was empty and quiet in this part of Riviera View at this hour, but the lights and the distant sound of music coming from farther up the avenue promised there was life here.
For now, I could hear and see my own breaths in the salty night air.
13
June
I was being a bitch.
I knew it, and I knew it was wrong. No one had forced me into this deal, and I knew this could happen. The fact that we were both in this meant that I should be nicer to Angelo, especially since he was staying atmyhome, away from his. I should be welcoming and whatnot, instead of treating him as an intruder and a reminder of the disastrous situation, which was of my own doing.
One week. I could stand him soiling my kitchen for a week. I’d ask him to stick to this one pan and one pot and keep a shelf to himself in the fridge. I could do it, especially since he was trying to be considerate and minimize this forced proximity by letting me be alone right now.
I loved my privacy and didn’t consider it solitude anymore.
