1
~
Rhea
“You can’t be serious,” I said, staring at the slightly rotund man with the odd tan lines who stood in front of me with one thick eyebrow raised. “The website didn’t say anything about that when I booked.”
“Should’ve read the fine print,” he grumbled in return, crossing his arms over his chest. “Those fees were for transport. You want us to take it all inside, you pay extra.”
I glanced over his shoulder at the array of furniture and boxes that he and his assistants have left somewhat haphazardly strewn over my new lawn. It had taken them half an hour just to get everything out of the truck, nevermind getting everything into my new house.
Not sure I would’ve bought the place if I knew how much trouble moving would be,I thought with a sigh. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes for a moment. I’d already had a long day, and I really didn’t want to spend the rest of it slogging all of my stuff inside.
“Please,” I finally said, my voice already starting to tremble. “I didn’t know that. Can’t you cut me some slack? It won’t take you long to get everything inside, will it?”
“Already told you.” He was still gruff, and it was pretty clear he wasn’t planning on budging. His three guys stood by the truckawkwardly, but none of them so much as looked at me. In fact, they seemed fairly eager to leave.
“Okay, okay.” I paused and thought for a moment. I’d already spent a ton of money on all of this, and there was no way I could stretch my pennies even further to pay what he was asking. “Listen, Peter…”
“That’s not my real name.” He tapped at the tag on his yellow golf shirt. “Just grabbed it when I clocked in. Lady, if you’re not going to pay the fees, we have somewhere to be.”
I was only feeling more desperate by the second, but at this point, I didn’t think that Peter, or whoever he was, would find it in his heart to help me any further.
“I beg you,” I said anyway, trying one last hoorah. “I mean, you don’t expect me to lug the fridge up there, do you? The couch? That one massive dresser? Can’t youat leasthelp me with those? Please. I wouldn’t ask if I could just do it myself.”
“You pay $90, we do it.”
I did not have $90 for this. I barely had that cash for anything at all, really. “I can’t.”
“Then we’re done here.” Peter-whatever didn’t wait for me to try anything else. He let out a long, loud whistle and walked back to the moving truck. One by one, each of his guys got in while I watched in exasperated silence.
Then, the truck and all of its muscle was gone, and I stood on a front lawn covered in everything I owned with absolutely no plan. The panic was quickly rising up in my throat and making me feel more than a little ill.
Get it together,I thought, taking a deep breath.You can do this.
After all, this wasn’t the first tough thing I’d ever done. I’d pushed through years of a mediocre job just to buy this house in the first place. I had done everything in my power to become independent. It was going to be fine. Sure, the fridge was probably heavier than I was, and I’d definitely need to defy the laws of physics to get that dresser up the porch steps.
But people did impossible things all the time. I just needed to get started.
“Boxes first,” I muttered to myself as I clasped my hands together and took inventory of everything that had to be done in my mind. It was still early in the afternoon, so I had at least four or five hours before it got dark.
I walked up to one stack of boxes, all labelled “kitchen.” I had no idea what was where, but that was the fun part. Opening everything and finding presents for myself. For now, though, I had to get it inside.
With a grunt, I gathered the top two boxes in my arms, and began the awkward march to my new front door. They were heavy, and I moved frustratingly slowly, but it was progress nonetheless. I placed them on the porch and opened the front door. Inside, the house was light, cozy, and eerily empty. It wasn’t huge; a two-bedroom starter with nothing fancy. But it was mine, and I was proud of that.
After delivering the first set of boxes to the little kitchen, I felt a sense of accomplishment. It was enough motivation to get myself right back outside to grab the next set.
“Oh, boy,” I muttered when I stood in front of the stack again. The top box had torn in one corner, badly enough that my cutlery had started peeking out from it. Still, if I could keep it balanced properly, I was sure I could handle it. Lifting with my legs, I gathered it up, and turned back to the house.
It felt as if I had started getting some kind of rhythm. If I kept going like this, I could make it, I was sure. I just needed to stay positive and be patient. When I reached the porch steps, I was extra careful. One foot, then the other. Up and up, right to the top.
Unfortunately, this was the point at which the universe decided it was a good time to pull a prank on me.
My foot caught on a loose floorboard, and I was sent flying, as was the precarious box I was holding. I managed to keep myself from slamming face-first into the ground, but I paid for it with several splinters digging into my hands. Around me, the box’s contents had been sprinkled all over the place, like a fork-based glitter bomb.
“Well, that’s just great,” I said as I got myself into a more dignified sitting position, before letting out a slew of curses under my breath. I’d barely gotten started and I was already messing up, and I could already feel myself starting to get sweaty.
Moving definitely wasn’t as fun and exciting as I thought it was going to be.
