“You can’t stay with that young man of yours?” Reuben asked.
And there went the laughter. Oh, man, the way he’d phrased that question did things to her heart. Because Billy wasn’t hers. Not by a long shot.
“Billy’s happy to let me stay there until I find a place, so he’s not rushing me out or anything. But it was always a temporary arrangement—one my brother made for me.”
“I see,” Reuben said. “Shame, though, ‘cause it seems like you two get on real good.”
They did. They really did. She took Ziggy’s block head into her hands and scratched behind both ears. But it wasn’t like Billy wanted a roommate. He hadn’t had one before she came. And he’d only taken her in because Ryan had called in a favor.
“Well, I have another place to look at tomorrow night and one more this weekend.” Which reminded her that she needed to reschedule Sunday. “So keep your fingers crossed for me.”
He nodded. “I’ll say a prayer and we’ll see if we can’t get the big man upstairs to help you out.”
She smiled. “Thanks. Hey, have you eaten dinner? I got Indian take-out and have way more than I could possibly eat myself.” Given how much she’d been eating out lately with all the evening appointments, she probably shouldn’t have splurged when she was coming home anyway, but she’d been tired and craving comfort food after another strike-out.
“No, I haven’t. But you should save it for Billy.”
“I don’t know when or even if he’ll be home tonight. He’s working some extra shifts for the next few days. I’d love to share it with you.”
“Well, okay then. Do you want to eat inside or have me grab some plates and we’ll eat picnic style out here?”
Fifteen minutes later, they were settled around Reuben’s dining room table using his wife’s nice china. He said it was a plenty special occasion for it, which totally charmed Shayna.
His place was tidy and chock-a-block with mementos from a long and eventful life—framed photographs, trophies, kids’ art projects, and more. But it also had a quality of stillness in the air that spoke to the likelihood that little had changed inside these walls in many years.
They ate and talked about everything and joked about Ziggy until the sun had gone down and Reuben’s daughter had called for her nightly check-in. And Shayna thoroughly enjoyed herself—making her realize that she was going to miss Reuben and Ziggy when she moved.
The thought sent an unexpected shock of sadness through her.
In just a few weeks, she’d come to adore seeing these two each morning as she left for work and many evenings when she came home. Sometimes she took walks with Reuben and Ziggy around the neighborhood, and on a few occasions she’d dropped in just to say hello. They’d become part of her routine, part of her circle, part of the community she was trying to build here.
She’d have to come back over here and visit them. Of course, she would. Then why was she so sad?
That feeling still had its tendrils in her the next evening when she and Malik approached apartment number eight, which was a studio on the fourth floor of a brownstone in Adams Morgan. At $1,200, it was at the top of her price range, but it would be an awesome neighborhood to live in.
A realtor met them at the front door and gave her a big smile. “Hi Shayna, I’m Mark Wilson.”
“Hi Mark. Thanks for meeting me tonight. This is my friend, Malik Morrison.”
The men shook, and then the realtor guided them up the four flights of stairs. “There is an elevator, but it’s currently out of service,” Mark said.
She wondered how often that happened. By the time they made it upstairs, Shayna’s shirt was sticking to her. The hallways weren’t air conditioned and it was stifling on the uppermost floor, where they found two doors.
“This is it right here. 4A.” Mark fished through his keys and finally opened the door. “There isn’t central air, obviously, but you could buy a window unit.”
The room wasn’t huge but the place had a lot of character. Despite being a studio, it was L-shaped, so it would give her bed a bit of separation from the rest of the living area. There was a built-in bookcase between the windows, crystal knobs on all the doors, and a really pretty cut-glass light fixture hanging from the ceiling.
“And this i
s the kitchen,” Mark said, flipping on the light switch.
Shayna saw Malik’s eyes go wide as he peered in, and she nearly chuckled. It was very likely that the kitchen was in a space that had once been a closet, because that was how wide and deep it was. Which explained why neither the sink, the oven, nor the fridge were the full, normal size.
“It’s really cute,” she said. Even with its faults, it was the best place she’d seen. She wasn’t sure if that was saying much. She peeked into the bathroom next.
“Shayna,” Malik whispered. “I don’t think I could fit on that toilet without my knees hitting the glass.”
She winced. “I see that.” The toilet was super close to the shower enclosure.