She doesn’t need to think of the words, because our tongues are already working with each other again to invent a new kind of language.
“What are you doing on this floor? What are you so upset about?” There’s a man’s voice now, but I couldn’t fucking care less.
“I’m not ffff…I’m not falling for any of this shit, anymore,” the girl says. “I
t’s such clear bullshit.”
“This is so out of nowhere,” the man continues. “Weren’t we just…”
“Okay, I’m still whispering, because I want no part of whatever that is in any way.”
“They can’t hear us, my love, they don’t ca—”
“What on Earth is going on in this building today?”
“Just people living their lives,” I reply with a shrug. “The same as any other day.”
Margarita’s eyes dart towards the window across the living room, and then back at me. “What if I don’t want this to be like any other day?”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure, Thomas. Let’s go into the other room so we can get some peace and fucking quiet and talk about things.”
Margarita
“Come on, Emilia…”
The one voice is fading, thankfully, down the corridor.
“Fuck! I mean f...I mean, I don’t know.”
But her voice—I’d assume she’s named Emilia, but who even knows anymore—stays fixed just outside our door. Even after she finishes yelling, her voice is so loud, it’s making the entire hallway quiver. The latest in a series of realizations to hit me is that our bedroom isn’t going to be far enough to escape this little show being produced in the hallway.
“I need to deal with this, Thomas. Just meet me in the other room.”
“It’ll deal with itself. And which other room?”
“Oh, for…never goddamn mind.”
For the second time in the last half hour, I throw open the apartment door to deal with whatever bizarre scene is trying to play itself out outside. If the last one was wearing pajamas, I fully expect to see an even weirder costume in the hallway this time—if not a full-on goddamn Halloween parade.
“The peephole could save you a lot of trouble next time, my love.”
“Other room, Thomas.”
While growling that response to the lurking spouse behind me, I come within a mohair scarf’s breadth of gasping at what’s in the hallway in front of me.
“Oh, I was expecting to see something much less normal.”
The young w…the woman staring down the corridor turns her head to me.
“Excuse me?”
“Sigh. I apologize, dear. Things have been quite...lively around here lately. I’m sure I’ve seen you around here before. How good to see a familiar face!”
Maybe-Emilia, who I have seen around the Bradford lobby before, is now looking me up and down—and trying to suppress a laugh.
“Are you in character for a play or something? Tony and Tina’s Wedding or some kinda shit like that?”