The phone slipped from its spot in the crook of my neck, the sound of it landing on the floor caused me to wince.
Ugh.
For fuck’s sake.
Life was simply fucking splendid. What the hell else could’ve gone wrong?
I put the shopping bags down to pick up my phone and keys. My boss was still on the line waffling on about my bad attitude, and he was right - I did have a bad attitude. I was about to hang-up on him.
The absolute cheek on him! He rang me to ask if I could work the bar tonight, my only night off this week. And, I wasn’t even off because I have night school. Which was pretty pointless at the minute because I’d had to miss two classes this week already. Unfortunately, I can’t turn down overtime at the bar - I need a roof over my head and food on my plate.
I kicked the door shut behind me causing it to slam rather loudly. By the time I reached the kitchen to drop off my bags, my boss had hung up on me. Oh well, good. Glad he finally got the picture.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket before setting about the kitchen to unpack my shopping. I was already running late, so I needed to move as fast as I could. I’d been expected to stop by my father’s house to drop off his medication… half an hour ago. It wasn’t an urgent matter but my father had a strict schedule he liked to keep to, and he hated to be kept waiting.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I groaned for what seemed like the umpteenth time that afternoon.
I didn’t have time for visitors right now.
I grabbed my father’s meds and my purse before making my way to the door. A quick glance through the peephole made my stomach turn and my shoulders sag. Mike, my landlord slash neighbor slash ex-boyfriend stood on the other side of the cheap wood.
Our relationship was a shit show, but in my defense, he wasn’t the landlord when I moved in. His brother was.
Not that I knew that at the time.
When things went south between us the logical thing to do would have been to move out, I only stayed because Mike had assured me that we were fine. Clearly the mistake was mine for believing the son of a bitch. So every now and then, whenever Mike fancied it, he gave me hell.
Today, I really didn’t have time to put up with his crap, so whatever copacetic relationship I had been pretending existed between us would be coming to a screeching halt.
When I first moved in, it hadn’t really been a choice. At the time, it was the cheapest place I could find that was within spitting distance of my part-time day-job at the local cafe. After picking up a second job I was caught between the decision to find a nicer, slightly more expensive apartment or to start working towards getting my business degree.
By choosing to better myself I also shot myself in the foot. The plan had always been to go to college after school, I knew I wanted to study business by the time I was sixteen too. It wasn’t until a few weeks before graduation, after receiving my first acceptance letter, that father told me I needed to pay for it myself. Maybe if I’d known earlier I could’ve applied for a scholarship but the chance of me actually getting accepted would have been low.
I regretted my choice almost every day. There was no way I was going to pass the business course I’d enrolled myself into - even if I was smart enough to pass it. It hadn’t been the work that I was struggling with, it was my attendance to the classes. Working two jobs, taking care of my father, maintaining a healthy social life and keeping up appearances at the local gym was an okay balance for me. Add in coursework and night classes, and everything went kaput.
Sooner or later, I’d have to stop kidding myself. But for the moment, I wanted to pretend for just a little bit longer.
The bright side was that maybe I’d be able to move after I crap out of my business course. I’d definitely be able to afford it. Night school was not cheap and that money could definitely have been useful elsewhere.
Until then, I had to stick to my fantasies. And face my ugly assed reality, the one that stood only feet away pounding away at the only thing that separated us. Sometimes it amazed me that our safety could solely rely on a piece of wood and a few home depot locks. No matter how many locks I put on my door I never felt any safer.
I opened the door. Sure enough, Mike was there, not-so-patiently waiting for my response.
“What’s up, Mike?” I tried to smile up at him despite my deep annoyance for the man.
Late at night, I sometimes wondered why none of my relationships had worked out. And then I think of Mike and remember that guys are creeps. Even the ones that seem normal.
When I first met Mike at the coffee shop, he was nice. And hot, or so I’d originally thought. That was a rare package in this neighborhood, usually, it was one or the other. He wasn’t the smartest but I easily overlooked that.
I don’t know what happened to change him. Maybe it was me that was the issue? For all I knew, Mike hadn’t changed at all. But for certain, the rose-colored glasses had slipped.
“Just checking in. There’s been a few robberies in the neighborhood these last few weeks. Last night, Mrs MacKinnely in number six was targeted-” His face took on a pensive look that I couldn’t work out.
It wasn’t like his place got robbed.
“Oh my god. Is she okay?” I rushed to ask about Natalie.
We weren’t close. I wasn’t close with any of my neighbors, but Natalie had been nice to me. I admit, she was a bit nuts but in the sweetest way. We got chatting once when I first moved in and still naively used the laundry room; her husband had left her a few years back. He took everything, and she was forced to move with her son.
It wasn’t long after that conversation that I’d heard about her son enlisting for the navy.
I’d felt so sorry for her when I heard that, but not as bad as I did when her son didn’t come back. He’s alive and well, but he’s never come back to visit. How horrible? I couldn’t imagine going through all that she had, and still being able to get through my day to day life.
“Of course. The old battle axe chased the two guys halfway down the block with a baseball bat.” Mike ran a hand through his hair as he sighed with what I could only assume was relief.
I bit my lip at his words holding back a giggle. Obviously he had been concerned and that was sweet but the image that ran through my mind had me coughing to cover my amusement. I could definitely picture the fifty-eight-year-old woman chasing some young thugs with her trusty bat.
She was a strong woman, a survivor. And the scariest cat lady I’d ever met.
They definitely picked the wrong place to rob. Out of the whole block, I was surprised that my apartment was still intact. With the number of hours I worked and studied, I spent twice as much time out of the apartment than I did in it.
Which was probably why I haven’t been too obsessed with finding a new apartment.
A cat meowed in the distance, maybe Tom the tabby cat from downstairs. The sound was enough to bring me out of my inner thoughts, and remember that I had somewhere I desperately needed to be. “I’m sorry Mike, but I really don’t have time to chat. I’m in a hurry.”
“Oh-kay. Will you be around later?” He raised a thick, bushy eyebrow and leaned in closer.
A chill ran down my spine as I stepped away.
Instead of sassing him like I desperately wanted to, I looked at him - maybe with a little bit of pity - and answered as politely as I could muster. “I should be. I’ll talk to you then, okay?”