“Here is your key. You share a unit with Calder Michaelson, but I’m sure you will meet him soon enough. Have you found employment yet?”
“No. You hiring?” I laugh.”
She smiles. “Try Pier Three. A good friend of mine owns it. Ask for Becky. Tell her I sent you.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Once Ann leaves, I lock up and go back to the motel to check out. All I have is my duffle bag of clothes and toiletries. I’ll need to buy a pillow and bedding. Groceries. I hope they have a taxi service or not having a car is going to be an issue.
Back at my new place I cover all the mundane items checking off my mental list as I go through my new living quarters. I open up all the kitchen drawers and cabinets. They are stocked with dishware and silverware. Under the kitchen sink I find a jug of laundry detergent. I didn’t even think about laundry. I need to wash my dirty stuff in the worst way. I will have to be on the lookout for a laundromat tomorrow when I go to the store.
There is another door I didn’t notice earlier it’s between the kitchen and living room. Probably a storage closet. Only when I go to twist the knob it won’t open. I yank and pull but nothing happens. I go to sit on the couch, but that stupid door is taunting me. So much so that I give up on go out onto the porch. I sit on the steps and look up at the moon getting lost in my thoughts. Wondering if Flip called the police. Wondering if I will get away with what I have done and if God can forgive me. If I can forgive me. The white paint on the stairs is cracked and peeling. I pick at it and flick the strips away, hoping that I find my way soon.
While I am contemplating my recent life choices a truck pulls up and a guy gets out of the passenger side. The first thing I notice about him is that he is tall with incredibly dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He’s too far away for me to make out his eyes but he’s dressed in a pair of grey athletic shorts and a sleeveless black t-shirt. He grabs something from the truck. A basketball. I hear him say something to the guy driving the truck then start walking toward me. This must be my neighbor. I stand up and move from the steps to get out of his path.
Moonlit grey. That’s the color of his eyes. He stops just short of me and digs a set of keys out of his pocket. I can’t help but study the tribal turtle tattoo on his right bicep. My gaze is immediately drawn to the dark ink. He’s muscular but not in that beefy way—he’s lean but not too skinny either.
“You my new neighbor?” Deep and husky are two words I would use to describe the man’s voice. He moves past me to unlock his door as I fidget with my fingers trying to come up with something witty to say.
“Oh me, yeah.” I point to myself like anyone else is standing here. So dumb. “I’m Maggie.”
He removes his keys from the lock and looks back at me, quirking a brow. “Like the song?” he questions with a hint of a smile.
“Song?”
“Rod Stewart. Wake Up Maggie…” he trails off.
My head moves side to side, and I tuck my newly dyed dark brown hair behind my ear. I’m still not used to the color after being a bottle blonde for years. “Sorry. I’m not familiar.”
“Right. Well, I’m Calder. If you need anything just knock on my door. I gotta get in the shower I have an early shift tomorrow. But it was nice to meet you, Maggie.”
“Oh yeah sure. Um question…” I stop him before he gets all the way inside. “Where’s the closest laundromat?”
“Oh.” His face falls, and I wonder what he was expecting me to say. “There isn’t one, but out back there is a screened in porch with a washer. No dryer but we do have a clothesline.”
“Thanks. One more question…what’s that other door between the living room and bedroom. I tried to open it, but it’s locked.”
Longer and wider than I expected, his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip and he smirks at me. The expression is different from the smile he gave me before. This is expression is mischievous. “It won’t open. Well not from your side. Years ago, these cottages were part of a resort and the door is an access door between our two places. The lock is on my side,” he explains and my cheeks flush.
“That makes sense. I thought it was a closet or something.” I shake my head and he nods. “Well good night, Calder.” I wave and rock back on my feet being extremely awkward.
“Good night, Maggie.” His eye moves quickly, and I can’t tell if it was a twitch or a wink as he closes the door.
As for me, I stay outside and walk around to the back of the house to check out the laundry situation. When I go around the side of the unit, Calder has his bedroom window open and I can see him all of him—his backside that is as he drops his shorts and lifts his shirt over his head. He’s built. The muscles in his back flex with his every movement and his ass appears smooth and firm. I can’t help but watch him like a peeping Tom. I should keep walking, but my feet are frozen in place and I am unable to look away. Unable to stop wondering what he looks like from the front. I’ve only ever been with Chris and there have been times I have regretted that. Not that I am saying I wish I had slept around. Simply, I regret not dating around. Getting tied down to a guy like him at a young age.
Calder grabs something and hesitates and I am scared he knows I’m standing here gawking at his ass like a pervert.
However, when he turns to go in the bathroom I duck down before he sees me. Now I can never look him in the eye. I’ve seen the dude buck ass naked.
I give up on checking the laundry room out and hurry to my own apartment.
Later, as I am lying in bed, I wonder if he is still awake, unable to sleep.
I can’t get thoughts of him out of my mind. His dark hair, his muscles. The sound of his voice when he was singing that song. I have never heard of it, but I already know it’s my new favorite.
The next morning as I am going out my door Calder is leaving his apartment too.
“Mornin’, Maggie.” He tilts his head to the side reminding me of the gesture cowboys make when they tip their hat at someone, and I quickly look away unable to meet his eyes.