Someone pushed the button on the ground floor call box, and when I heard his voice, I buzzed in Timothy. On the day I’d received all the presents, that box hadn’t been working, but it was fixed now. That meant a double layer of protection, one of the reasons I liked living in this particular apartment complex.
The building lacked the pool, fancy gym, and garage parking of the more expensive sites in the area, but that made it reasonable enough for me to afford it. Well, it would be viable, if I still had a roommate to share in the rent. Whether or not I should be trying to get someone to pay half of the expenses was something I was still debating.
No one would be like Sammy, but maybe there’d be someone equally considerate, someone who wouldn’t blare music twenty-four hours or bring a stream of guys around who walked about semi-clothed and raided the refrigerator of even the things marked clearly with my name.
And then there were the thieving roommates, pawing through your clothing when you were gone, or the ones who weren’t dependable for paying the rent. Even worse were the druggies or heavy drinkers. Some roommates, I’d heard, left the door unlocked or walked about in a fog of carelessness. Getting a roommate was a big risk.
It would be a major decision if I chose that gamble, and I dreaded advertising and then having to interview people. Better to be poor, than to sink that low. Or so I rationalized. Maybe I’d post the sharing at San Jose State or ask Judy if she knew anyone who needed a comfortable place to live. Referrals would be much safer.
The doorbell rang, and I invited Timothy in. He’d been at my place before. He scanned it briefly, then took a second look at the roses. I supposed that they needed to be tossed out soon, but I hated to do so. Their fragrance still permeated my apartment. I’d try to dry the petals and see if the fragrance lingered in the potpourri they’d make.
I had on my new slippers and that broke the ice between us, the stiffness that always came from having a stranger in my apartment. I trusted Timothy, yet this new dating thing still made me feel uneasy. There was also the fact that Timothy felt really, really large in my small-sized living room and even worse in the kitchen, when he entered it to unload the dinner he’d brought. It made me see my apartment differently, through another person’s eyes.
My grandmother and I had lived here just fine. Then, after she died, I’d gotten several problem roommates. That was a nightmare times three. When Sammy had interviewed, my luck had changed. She’d become my best friend. But none of my roommates had made my apartment seem as small as it did with Timothy standing in it. I shrugged off that thought and waited to see what he’d brought for dinner, almost as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.