On Dublin Street(8)

“Well, I’d give you a lecture on how you’re pissing that money of yours away on rent when you could have bought a house, but who am I to talk?”

“Yeah, and I don’t need any lectures. That’s the sweetest part of being an orphan. No concerned lectures.”

I don’t know why I said that.

There was no sweet part to being an orphan.

Or having no one be concerned.

Rhian was silent on the other end of the line. We never talked about my parents or hers. It was our no-go area. “Anyway,” I cleared my throat, “I better get back to unpacking.”

“Is your new roommate there?” Rhian picked up the conversation as though I hadn’t said anything about my parentless status.

“She just went out.”

“Have you met any of her friends yet? Any of them guys? Hot guys? Hot enough to haul you out of your four year dry spell?”

The skeptical laughter on my lips died when an image of the Suit popped into my mind. Feeling my skin prickle at the thought of him, I found myself grow quiet. It wasn’t the first time he’d flashed across my thoughts in the last seven days.

“What’s this?” Rhian asked in answer to my silence. “Is one of them a hottie?”

“No,” I brushed her off as I shoveled the Suit out of my thoughts. “I haven’t met any of Ellie’s friends yet.”

“Bummer.”

Not really. The last thing I need is a guy in my life. “Listen, I’ve got to get this done. Talk to you later?”

“Sure, hon. Talk later.”

We hung up and I sighed, gazing at all my boxes. All I really wanted to do was flop back on the bed and take a long nap.

“Ugh, let’s do this.”

***

A few hours later, I was completely unpacked. All of my boxes were folded up neatly and stored in the hall closet. My clothes were hung up and folded away. My books were lined up on the bookshelf and my laptop was open on the desk, ready for my words. A photograph of my parents sat on my bedside table, another of Rhian and I at a Halloween party graced the bookshelf, and by my laptop on the desk, sat my favorite photo. It was a picture of me holding Beth, my parents standing behind me. We were sitting out in the backyard at a barbecue the summer before they died. My neighbor had taken the shot.

I knew photos usually invited questions, but I couldn’t bring myself to put those photographs away. They were a painful reminder that loving people only led to heartbreak… but I couldn’t bear to part with them.

I kissed my fingertips and placed them gently against the photo of my parents.

I miss you.

After a moment, a bead of sweat rolling down my nape drew me out of my melancholic fog and I wrinkled my nose. It was a hot day and I had blasted through the unpacking like The Terminator after John Connor.

Time to try out that gorgeous bath tub.

Pouring in some bubble bath and running the hot water, I immediately began to relax at the rich smell of lotus blossoms. Back in my bedroom, I peeled out of my sweaty shirt and shorts and felt a smug liberation as I walked down the hall, na**d in my new apartment.

I smiled, gazing around at it, still not quite believing all ‘the pretty’ was mine for at least the next six months.

With music blasting from my smartphone, I sank deep into the tub and began to doze. It was only the growing chill of the water that nudged me to wakefulness. Feeling soothed and as content as I could be, I clambered inelegantly out of the tub and reached for my phone. As soon as silence reigned around me, I glanced over at the towel rail and froze.

Crap.

There were no towels. I scowled at the towel rail as if it was its fault. I could have sworn Ellie had towels on there last week. Now I was going to have to drip water all down the hall.

Grumbling under my breath, I wrenched the bathroom door open and stepped out into the airy hallway.