The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,70
very peaceful watching her swim.”
“Mmhm,” I agreed. Without proper television to entertain me, I sometimes poured myself a glass of wine, put on some ambient music, and watched Honey float around in her tank.
“Why did you name her Honey?” Anissa asked.
“It’s really dorky,” I resisted.
“Tell me,” she insisted.
“It’s dumb.”
Anissa straightened. “I’ve had a terrible day, Alice,” she reminded me. “I need this.”
I frowned. I’d nearly forgotten the reason we’d left the game early; it made me feel terrible. Anissa didn’t have that luxury. “I’m so sorry about that. I wish I’d been able to do something.”
“Stop deflecting,” she chastised. “I want to hear your turtle’s origin story.”
“I got Honey when I went to college. I lived alone in an off-campus apartment my sophomore year, and it got lonely coming home from classes to an empty place. So I got a turtle and named her Honey.”
“That explains the turtle, but not the name,” Anissa pointed out.
“Fine.” I winced as if in pain. “I liked saying ‘Honey, I’m home.’”
“You’re right,” Anissa deadpanned. “That’s pretty dorky.”
“Have you lived here long?” she asked.
“Since I started at the airline,” I confirmed. “So, wow, close to eight years. Time sure flies.”
She hummed, but didn’t share what she might be thinking.
“You can say it.”
“What?”
“My apartment is terrible.”
“It’s fine, Alice,” she resisted.
“You don’t have to lie. I know it’s pretty bad.”
“Maybe not bad,” she decided, “but boring.”
My jaw dropped a little. “Boring?”
“Where are your photographs? Wall art? Books?” she listed off. “There’s nothing personal in here, nothing that’s you. Besides, Honey, of course.”
“My bedroom’s better.”
She laughed at that.
“What?” I demanded. I couldn’t help stomping my foot a little.
“Is this all a ploy to get me to your bedroom, Kaminski? Pretty smooth.”
“I don’t spend a lot of time out here except to eat. Everything is in my room.”
“Well now that you’ve built it up, I’ve got to see this impressive bedroom of yours.”
“It’s not impressive,” I denied, “it’s just not boring.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She grabbed my hand and tugged me in the direction of my bedroom. The apartment floor plan wasn’t complicated, so I wasn’t surprised she knew where to find my room.
My bed wasn’t made, but it also wasn’t a complete disaster zone—contained chaos. I did a quick scan to make sure there was nothing embarrassing out in the open before I sat down on the edge of my queen-sized mattress. I leaned back on the bed while Anissa made her rounds. She didn’t go so far as to open up the drawers of my wardrobe, but she took her time, touching knick-knacks and stopping to peer at the people in framed photographs.
“Not bad,” she remarked.
“Not boring?” I challenged.
She grinned broadly. “The jury’s still out on that one.”
She picked up one particularly crowded imagine. “Is this your family?”
I nodded. “Un huh.
She returned the framed photograph to its place on my dresser. “Are you guys close?”
“Not live-in-the-same-neighborhood, have weekend barbeques close. My parents retired to Florida, but my sister and her husband live a little north of me in Bloomfield Hills. She’s a mom—two kids. I try to go to ballet recitals and swim meets when I can, but it’s not as often as I’d like.”
“Cute,” she mused. “I like being the Cool Aunt. I don’t know if I’d want kids of my own. Honestly, I’m probably too selfish to be a mom. I’m pretty set in my ways to prioritize anyone over myself even if they popped out of my own body.”
“That’s quite the visual,” I chuckled.
“You’re welcome,” she smiled. She scanned the bedroom once more. “It’s a nice room,” she decided.
“I’m glad it meets your approval.”
I reached for her wrist and she accepted the nonverbal cue to climb onto the bed next to me. We laid on the mattress, bodies parallel to each other, and stared at the ceiling. I folded my hands under my head like a pillow. We were both quiet, listening to the sounds of traffic and sirens outside.
“How many others have you let into your sanctuary?” she wondered aloud.
“Nobody,” came my honest reply.
Anissa rolled onto her side and arched a dark eyebrow at me. “Not even Lara?”
I couldn’t help my smirk at her tiny admission of jealousy. “No. Not even Lara. I really don’t have people over.”
“How come I got to?” she questioned.
“Because you asked.”
Her eyes slightly narrowed as she regarded me. “Are you always so straightforward with everyone? I feel like you’ve never lied a day in your life.”
“I’ve lied to you,” I said evenly.
Her voice pitched up. “Oh,