“Poor little Cheep Cheep.” I teased relieved that we were talking again. Over the years my female friends for one reason or another had drifted out of my life. I felt very comfortable with Allison and resolved that I would not let that happen to us. “Poor David.” Allison sighed as a darkness over came her. I reached out to her wanting to ease whatever it was that was causing her such pain. “We are here.” She said quickly breaking away from me before my hand could reach her. I looked up and gasped when I saw Allison’s building. It was a house really. A large Victorian with a huge front porch. “It’s perfect.” I whispered.
“Don’t let Mrs. Giavanni hear you or she will double the rent.” Allison whispered back. Just as the words escaped her lips a tiny dark haired woman who was shuffling across the street greeted us. “She lives across the street in the big yellow house and she is very particular as to whom she rents to.”
“I heard that.” Mrs. Giavanni snorted with a thick accent.
“Of course you did.” Allison smiled at her as she went to assist the elderly woman. Mrs. Giavanni slapped Allison away. “You don’t miss a trick do you?” Allison teased the elderly woman. I found it hard to believe that this dark haired beauty who was helping an elderly woman cross the street was the same woman who had hurt me so deeply all those years ago.
“Smart mouth.” Mrs. Giavanni chastised the taller woman. “This one is fresh. It comes from living in New York.”
“She knows everything too.” Allison warned me.
“That is right.” Mrs. Giavanni said proudly. “I know that … that Chris was no good for you.”
“My ex.” Allison explained shyly. “I told you that she knows everything.”
“I know that Allison tries act tough. But she is a good girl and if you are a friend of hers you can stay.” Mrs. Giavanni patted Allison’s face gently. “So we look at the apartment and then we will go across the street and have tea and you can tell me all about yourself.”
“Be careful.” Allison warned me. “The CIA could learn a few things from Mrs. Giavanni.”
“I heard that.” Mrs. Giavanni snorted.
The apartment was very small but charming. It was a studio, which meant that my bedroom and living room were one in the same. The kitchen was towards the back of the room. It consisted of a small counter top and a tiny stove and a sink. Above the stove and sink was a beautiful bay window which over looked a garden. The front of the studio was adorned with glass French doors. The front door opened into a large foyer with a gorgeous mahogany staircase, which led to the second floor.
There was only one problem. There would be plenty of room for a futon, dresser and my computer station. But there was most definitely no room for a second person. Even if Peter and I could survive in such cramped surroundings I sensed that Mrs. Giavanni would never allow an unmarried couple to rent from her. “What I am I going to do? I love this place.” Allison excused herself allowing me privacy to think. I wished that she had stayed, I needed someone to tell me what to do. Of course Peter had not found a job in the area yet, I reasoned. And I need a place now. “And I love this place.” Plus with Allison just upstairs I could have someone to walk to work with and talk with. “Funny you never cared about those things before?” I dismissed the thought as quickly as it emerged.
We could postpone Peter’s arrival. I wanted this apartment. It was so convenient. Close to campus and Allison. Not that was important but it helped. I never lived any place where I actually knew my neighbors. I rationalized. It would be nice for a change and Peter did relocate we could find a new place together.
I followed Mrs. Giavanni back to her home feeling as if somehow I had betrayed Peter. But as I chatted with the older woman over tea, she offered to rent me the studio for a mere $500.00. How could I refuse? As we chatted I quickly learned that Allison was right about one thing, the CIA could certainly learn a few things from Mrs. Giavanni. By the time I made my departure she somehow had managed to learn that my Grandmother had raised me and went to Yale on a scholarship. I also left with the keys to my new home.
I found Allison swinging lazily in the porch swing of our new home. “Well?” she asked dryly as she sipped her coffee.
“Howdy neighbor.” I beamed in response.
“Great.” Allison responded in a soft warm tone that sent a strange chill down my spine.
“There is one slight problem.” I began hesitatively.
“I know no bathtub.” Allison said with a grimace. “Sometimes a girl needs more than a tiny shower stall. Fear not my lady. For a small fee I will let you use mine when you need to escape.”
“Thank you.” I replied with a blush. “But that is not the problem. I was suppose to be looking for a place for two.”
“Oh.” Allison responded as a look of disappointment flashed across her face.
“I guess Peter will understand.” I sighed.
“Peter …?” Allison choked on her coffee.
“Are you all right?” I asked as she continued to choke. She pulled away as I began to pat her on the back.
“I am fine.” She choked out waving me away as I approached her again. “Sorry.”
“Why?” I asked in bewilderment.
“Nothing …” She laughed sadly. “My mistake … I may have to rethink my Jan Brady theory.”
“What?” Now I was completely at a loss.
“Nothing.” She was hiding something this much I could see. But soon she quickly shifted gears and smiled back at me as if nothing had occurred. “I have some time before my dinner with Maureen. Why don’t we get your stuff from the motel.”
“Thank you!” I squealed at the thought of not having to spend another night in that dreary motel. I threw my arms around her and once again she pushed me away. “Why does she keep pushing me away? Relax girl maybe she is not a touchy person, but then again normally you aren’t either… except with her.” I looked down at her in confusion. It was at that moment I noticed that she had changed into a pair of faded blue jeans a white t-shirt with bold purple lettering and a denim jacket. It was the T-shirt that made me gasp. Not such much the t-shirt but what was written across the front of it. ‘Pretty, Witty & Gay’. The reality struck me hard. This was why Allison kept pushing me away. She was afraid of any misunderstandings or possible rumors or anything else that might be perceived as inappropriate. “Very noble of you Miss. Kendell.”
“Would this be the T-shirt that Stan did not approve of?” I asked directly.
“Yes.” Allison responded with a slightly defensive tone. “My guess is that he is not a West Side Story fan.”
“That must be it.” I said with conviction.
“You didn’t know?” She questioned me seriously.
“No.” I answered simply and honestly. “And now that I do know … I don’t care.”
“Good.” She smiled back at me. “I hate all of that uncomfortable crap.”
“Speaking of crap, let’s go get my stuff.” I said as I pulled her up off of the swing. Then in a serious tone of voice I added. “Allison I really don’t care that you are a lesbian. Just don’t … well I don’t want you to take this the wrong way …”
“Go ahead.” She urged me in a dark tone as she rolled her eyes.
“It’s just that … don’t ever go back to being a lawyer.” I teased.
“Brat!” She laughed as she pinched me on my backside.
“Yikes!” I squealed at my punishment for teasing her. “Let me guess you were expecting the standard “just don’t make a pass at me” line.”