The View from Alameda Island - Robyn Carr Page 0,26
buried their otherwise high spirits. They spent every night in their hotel room looking at the listings and discussing what Cassie needed. Cassie had brought her tape measure and recorded room sizes in a small notebook. Most of her belongings had been container-shipped, ready to be delivered when they found adequate space.
By coming early in the summer they had so many more options in the search to find a flat or apartment. Graduates had just left, new students hadn’t started to arrive and the availability was high even with waiting lists on some flats. But the prices were ridiculous.
“I don’t know how we can justify the cost of this,” Cassie said, doing some figuring.
“Harvard,” Lauren said in one word. “There’s going to be some debt here but you’ll pay it off faster than you think and I’ll help you all I can. You’ll just have to be one helluva great lawyer.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” she said. “Making as much money as I can isn’t exactly my goal. I’d like to make as much right as I can.”
That made Lauren smile because Cassie had such a good heart. It was peculiar—Cassie looked more like Brad with her light hair, short stature and blue eyes. Lacey’s temperament was more like her father but she resembled Lauren right down to those unique eyes.
Lauren got a little teary. “I’m so proud of you. You have no idea how much I’m going to miss you.”
At the end of their third straight day of looking, they were shown a small, one-bedroom flat on the third floor. A walk-up, of course. It was tiny and old; the building was quite ancient but had been remodeled a few times. The floors were wood and scarred, the bathroom tiny. “You would definitely have to take a number,” Lauren said of the bathroom. But unlike many of the student flats, at least they wouldn’t have to share a bathroom with another tenant. The kitchen was just one notch above a galley kitchen but the stove and refrigerator weren’t more than ten years old. Lauren remembered the appliances from her college days when they were either avocado green or a fleshy pink. These were white. There was room for a small table and two chairs. And the bedroom would barely hold enough furniture to accommodate a couple.
But the living room was spacious for the size of this flat. It was bright and airy, the ceiling high, with a large window that faced the park across the street and the city in the distance, rising above the trees. There was plenty of room for a sofa, a couple of chairs, a coffee table, bookcase and maybe a small desk if they arranged things cleverly.
“Oh Mama, I love it,” Cassie said, standing in front of the living room window.
“I hope you’re sure of Jeremy,” Lauren said. “If you get on each other’s nerves, there’s no escape in this little space.”
“It’s on the bus line,” Cassie said. “The street is lined with shops and eateries. I imagine we’ll be spending a lot of time at school, the library, study groups, maybe work, if we’re lucky. But really, isn’t it darling?”
Lauren tried to remember how love made the worst dump look like a honeymoon cottage. Then she recalled she’d never had that experience. “Well, IKEA here we come,” she said cheerily. “And the Home Store, etc.”
They got right on it. Lauren was determined to try to see her daughter set up before leaving her. She had planned on two weekends and her five-day workweek of vacation but in the end she called the company and took two extra days. Eleven days to find a flat, furnish it, have everything delivered and set up, and that didn’t even allow the days it took the landlord to complete a credit check. She was pretty astonished at how much thought Cassie had given this whole transition, right down to plastic storage tubs for her sweaters and boots that could slide under the bed. She bought a couple extra for Jeremy, though she said he didn’t have so much in the way of wardrobe. A few plates, four tumblers, four wineglasses, four bowls, flatware and three pots. Lauren got some extra items, place mats, serving dishes, candles, kitchen linens. “No dishwasher,” Lauren observed.
“I’m a college graduate,” Cassie said. “I’m going to be able to figure out washing dishes.”
They bought serviceable furniture. Not cheap but certainly not what Cassie was used to. The furniture store also sold area rugs