Chapter 2 #2
“Oh, thank you,” she laughed, stepping back.
She didn’t look quite at me. I wondered if maybe the independent work wasn’t going well…
maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I wouldn’t ask.
I wasn’t about to ruin this relationship as soon as I got here.
“Well, come in, sit down, please, relax. I can grab the rest of your stuff from the car, if you like.”
“Absolutely not. What do you take me for? I’m not making you a pack mule the second I get to your home.”
She laughed, gesturing me inside. “We’ll figure out how to split the duties of getting your stuff inside, but for right now, the important part is getting you inside. Sit down, please. Coffee? Cookies?”
My suitcase bump-bumped over the strip into her front door, and I propped it up by the door, looking around, taking it in.
It was beautifully decorated… the red tartan curtains and fern-green cabinets in her kitchen, combined with the deep green velvety couch and the big throw blanket over it, a thick plush rug, a gas fireplace burning behind a glass door, it felt more like home than the place in Seattle that I’d barely touched for all the year and a half that I’d lived there.
“That sounds wonderful, thank you so much,” I said.
“I don’t mean to be a bother when you’re already doing this much for me. ”
“Relax. It’s your move-in day. Sit down and take it easy.
Besides, I could totally pound an entire pot of coffee right now,” she said, practically skipping past me towards the kitchen before she caught herself, clearing her throat and walking more naturally.
Or… maybe unnaturally. If she wanted to skip around her home and talk about pounding something, she could do that.
I wasn’t about to dictate what she did in her own home.
I wasn’t making a point of it right now, though. She was probably just formal around strangers, and despite our relative friendship, I was still mostly a stranger.
I sank into a plush seat at the kitchen table under Christmassy string lights, and when she came back with the pot of coffee and a plate of cookies that were so beautifully prepared that I’d have believed it if she said they came from the bakery, I gave her a grateful smile and said, “This place is beautiful. Big fan of Christmas, huh?”
“Oh, yeah, that, uh…” She laughed nervously before she sat down across from me. She sat uneasily, like the chair wasn’t quite right, and I tried not to frown. “You know, tis the season. I cleaned the place up a little for you to arrive. I hope you’re not a certified Christmas hater.”
I didn’t like it, but… only because I associated it with being forced to see my family.
I’d thought last Christmas would be better, off in Seattle, but I’d never really made any friends there, working seventy hours a week on a good week, so Christmas had just been an aimless, lonely day off before I went back to work the next day.
“The Grinch I am not,” I said, taking the coffee gratefully once she poured it for me.
“I don’t have strong feelings. But this place feels wonderful…
I think I might enjoy Christmas more here. ”
She smiled, her expression softening even though her posture still seemed tight. “Well, merry Christmas to us. We should talk about our expectations as roommates for these next few months, but I think for tonight you just want to—”
“I don’t think you need to worry too much. I know I’m in your home. I’m not going to make a mess or too much noise, but as long as you’re not filthy or… starting a rock band in your room, I won’t complain.”
She dropped back into her seat, picking up a cookie. I should have had some better self-control, but after a long drive, I desperately wanted a cookie. I’d eat the whole plate of them. I picked one up as she said, “This is your place too. We’re both paying equal shares of the rent.”
“Yes, but, well…”
“Look, I don’t want to talk too much about it, but the rent for this place was getting to be a little, um, difficult.
I’m moving into a smaller place at the end of this lease, but you’re helping me out a lot too by being here for these last few months.
So no acting like I’m here saving you! That’s officially forbidden,” she said, popping the cookie in her mouth.
It was kind of… cute, the faux pompousness.
“Okay, well… I’m glad it’s worked out well for both of us.” I sank back in my chair. “Independent work’s dried up? I’ve been hoping to freelance in between jobs…”
“Oh, uh, I’m sure you’ll be fine. I work in a different… industry.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What do you do?”
She forced too big a smile. “Media. Media marketing, I mean. Content creation. That kind of stuff. It’s a saturated market, you know? Just really… stuffed full.”
I smiled lopsidedly at her. “Then you’ve leaned into your creative side.”
“My creative side. Yeah, I guess you could say so.” She busied herself with her coffee, and she stood up suddenly. “Oh, I made hot chocolate to go with this too. Let me get that.”
“Oh, I’m all right. I really shouldn’t be eating cookies and hot chocolate when I’ve barely had any real food today.”
“You just drove from Seattle. Every day is a good day for cookies and chocolate, but especially a day like this. I’m getting the hot chocolate. If you don’t drink it, then I’ll drink it all, but I’ll make it awkward and peer-pressure-y until you drink it too, and we don’t want that!”
I stared after her for a second before I laughed, once, surprised and genuine—not something I was accustomed to, laughing without meaning to. Something about Bridget. I couldn’t place it. “Well, if you say so,” I said, relaxing into my chair. Maybe I could have cookies and hot chocolate.