7. 7
7
I slam the note down on Tim’s desk. It looks rough, considering I’d rescued it from the trash after realizing it might come in handy to have the physical proof.
“My new neighbor is killing me. You’ve got to help me.”
His eyes widen in alarm. “What is she doing? Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I ask with a dramatic hand to my forehead. I’m aware of what he sees, especially the dark circles under my eyes. “She needs to be stopped.”
“What happened, Reya? Here, sit down.” He pulls out a seat at the small desk he’s sitting at. It’s small enough that he does so just by reaching over from his side.
I plop down into it.
“I haven’t been able to sleep because of her blasting music. I might have to let my daughter stay an extra night at her dad’s place, for the second week in a row . It’s killing me, Tim. I can’t do it. Please help me.”
I’m aware that I seem a little crazy, as I spew the words out so fast and frantically.
He just looks at me for a few seconds. His blank expression makes me nervous, until I wave a hand in front of his face.
He chuckles, blinking a few times.
“I can see how that’s stressful. Is it really that loud?”
“I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t. Have I ever complained before?” I absolutely have, but he shakes his head as if he’s forgotten. “It really is that loud.”
He scratches his head, looking confused or conflicted, or something.
“What?” I ask.
“I guess I’m just surprised no one else has complained.”
I throw my arms up in the air.
“So am I! I was hoping you were going to tell me someone had.”
Tim shakes his head.
“Not a peep from anyone.”
“Does Mrs. Sheppard have a hearing problem?”
She’s in the apartment below the culprit, and I would think she’s affected even more than I am. That woman hates noise, she once complained that I walked down the stairs loudly and it echoed through her whole apartment.
Actually, not once. Three times. It was a whole thing.
“Not that I’ve noticed. Look, I can see how upsetting it is to lose sleep, and to worry about your daughter losing sleep, but…” He sighs. “I won’t get into any details with you, but I spoke with her dad when she applied for the place. He says she’s going through a rough time, dealing with some mental health concerns. Maybe the music is helping clear her mind, you know?”
Of course he’s going to be patient and understanding when it comes to mental health concerns. He deals with it very closely every day.
I feel selfish for saying it’s not fair, but it isn’t. Why do I have to suffer in order for someone else to feel better? Not that I am at all convinced that this particular thing is helping her in any way.
“It’s not a mind clearing volume, Tim!” I yell. “My bed shakes like it’s possessed by a demon, which doesn’t even seem like the biggest stretch because she plays the most aggressive songs.” Never mind that I like aggressive songs at the right time of day.
Well, maybe not anymore. She might have ruined heavy metal for me.
“I get that, but I don’t want to trouble her when she’s just moved in. She’s probably still getting settled. You get that, right? If it continues over the next couple weeks, I’ll say something. How does that sound? Can you last that long?”
No.
“I really thought you were going to take my side here. I thought we had something special,” I whine.
He laughs heartily, causing me to smile for the first time since walking into his office.
“Tell you what, I’ll knock a couple hundred off of your rent next month for the inconvenience.”
My jaw drops.
“I’m not going to let you do that. You do so much to help us already.”
“Try and stop me,” he says with a wink. “I am really sorry, dear. We’ll figure it out, just give it some time.”
“I guess I have to.” I gesture towards the door. “I’ve got to go get ready for work.”
“Have a good one today. Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask what you used for the pumpkin bread you gave us for Christmas. The wife hasn’t shut up about it since.”
I beam, relieved to change the subject onto something that makes me so happy.
“I can jot down the recipe, that’s an easy one. You’ll have to let me know how it goes,” I tell him.
“Of course. I’ll even bring you some.”
He says he’ll be the one to bring it, because Tricia doesn’t leave the house. From what I’ve heard, it’s been years since she’s stepped outside. I’m happy to help keep her occupied with a little recipe, and having a conversation through Tim. For a long time, I’d hoped a miracle would happen and allow me to meet her, but now I realize that’s not how this goes. Not everyone can be changed, especially the ones that are content with their circumstances. Tricia is content, and I do what I can to make her even more so. Everyone needs friends.
“I’ll give her my zucchini bread recipe, too. I’m telling you: so easy” I stand from my seat. “Let her know I said hello, and I’ll have those for you sometime this week.”