I leaned on the wall before walking up the steps of my apartment building. The gravity of this whole situation had begun to get to me. I was becoming Sam’s wife. I knew we had joked about this when we were about to graduate back in high school, but then Sam took Alice to the prom, ditched me, and we never spoke to each other again.
How were things going to be between us if he decided to do that again?
Calm down Wendy— it’s not like you’re going to stay married with him, I told myself. One point two million dollars! Keep your eyes on the prize.
The door clicked and opened up behind me. I glanced and saw my ex-boyfriend slip inside. Oh, great.
“Wendy,” he said, charging towards me in anger. “What’s up with the dude in that gold Lambo?”
“Look, we’re not dating anymore. We haven’t been for a while. So, would you just leave?”
I began to raise my voice. I couldn’t afford to have him skunking around me with a deal like this on the table.
“But baby—”
“Baby my ass, you abusive ass hat!” I shouted.
One of the neighbors was coming down the steps. It was Mr. Whitaker; he used to be a wrestler just for sport, and my ex knew that from when we had dated…
“There a problem here?” he asked, giving my ex the stink eye.
“Nah, not at all. I was just leaving.”
Danny gave me a quick glare and stormed out the door.
Mr. Whitaker came down the stairs, shaking his head.
“Nothing but a young punk,” he grunted. “You got to find yourself a real man, Wendy,” he said, stopping by me.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats and relaxed his shoulders.
“I know. And I have, too. He’s a real gentleman.”
“Good, you be careful now. A pretty young lady like you shouldn’t be going around alone.”
The very old-fashioned Mr. Whitaker went on his way and waved good-bye. I jogged upstairs, careful not to roll on some of the rocks and grime that littered the steps. The hallway wasn’t that bad, save for a few cracks.
When I got to my turn in the hallway, I noticed the manager, Ms. Holloway at my father’s door. That outfit she was wearing showed off how flat and sunk in her ass was. Gross.
But then I noticed she was putting a neon green piece of paper on my father’s door.
“Ms. Holloway? Is there something wrong?” I asked while I approached her.
She finished taping the notice to my father’s door and when I got up closer, I could see the word Eviction. Wow, what a way to preserve someone’s dignity. She clearly hadn’t even tried knocking first.
“Eviction?” I asked, stunned.
She turned around and smirked. There was nothing funny or good about this. “Yes, your father is about three months behind on rent—”
“I just paid rent a few days ago!” I argued, shoving my hands on my hips.
Ms. Holloway looked me up and down. Yes, I did look sexy. Sexier than her, even on one of my bad hair days. Why didn’t she just admit that she was jealous?
Giving my father this notice on his door where everyone could see it was probably her attempt at taking a personal stab at me. I was glad I had caught her in the act.
“Yeah, you paid a month’s worth of back rent. But he’s still behind, and this is company policy,” she said, holding her head high as if she were important.
What the hell? I guess my dad hadn’t been paying rent when I thought he had. I was beginning to cut Ms. Holloway some slack when she smirked at me and added, “It’s also company policy to leave eviction notices. Just because you think you and your dad are so great that you should be special, that’s not the case.”
“I get that it’s company policy,” I told her. “But isn’t there some rule of human decency that allows you to talk to the person first before leaving such notices?”
“Nope,” she said, with an evil grin.
I don’t know why I had even tried to plea my case to her. I snatched the notice down from my father’s door and crumpled it up. Ms. Holloway walked around me and scribbled something down on her clipboard.
“Good luck finding some place that will take bums like you and your dad,” she said.
That was it.
“Screw you. Good luck with getting laid. I know you’re not a virgin by choice, unlike me,” I snarked.
She stopped. That had to cut her good.
I didn’t even wait for her to respond. I just unlocked the door and went inside. She could throw her temper tantrum by herself. I had seen her throw them whenever anything didn’t go her way, and caused her to have to trouble herself to go fix a leaky faucet or smooth down the flower bed after someone’s dog ran through it.
I leaned on the door when I closed and locked it. With my eyes closed, I exhaled and tried to calm my mind. When could I catch a break?
“Wendy.”
My eyes shot open. “Dad? You’re awake!”
With sad eyes, he smiled and looked back down at the dining table where he was sitting.
“Is that the eviction notice?” he asked.
Shit.
I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing.
“It’s okay, Wendy. I’ve been so terrible. I’ve done nothing to keep our little family together…” My father lowered his face and shook his head solemnly. By his side was a cup of water instead of a glass full of whiskey.
As a matter of fact… I sniffed around and didn’t smell the usual hint of alcohol that was usually in the air.
“It’s okay, Dad. I understand what you’re going through… I’m here. I don’t mind helping out.”
My father slowly dragged his gaze back to mine. Then his eyes went wide.
“Wendy, get over here!” he stood from his seat and waved his hand for me to come over by him.
I scampered over to him and turned around to see wisps of smoke coming through the edges of the door frame.
“Dad? Is it a fire?”
He stepped around me and went to the door, feeling over it.
When he opened it though, a huge plume of smoke billowed inside. Dad slammed the door shut, coughing from the small inhalation of smoke.
“Why aren’t the alarms going off?”
I ran back into my room and gathered a few important things of mine.
“Wendy, call 911—” my father called out, but the fire alarms finally started blaring loud.
“Dad!” I shouted, running into the hallway. “We’ve got to go!”
We huddled up and locked arms so we wouldn’t lose each other. The smoke was getting thick, and as we made our way down the hallway, the ceiling fell in, blocking the only exit we had.
“Fire!” I cried, watching the parts of the ceiling burn on the ground in front of us.
“The fire’s coming from above us!” my father pointed out. “We have to go back to the apartment,” he said, pulling me along with him.
Parts of the ceiling fell again, almost falling on me. Dad opened the door and pulled me inside.
“Let’s go to a window and hang our heads out of it for air, okay?”
It’d been a while since I had seen Dad aware like this.
“Yeah,” I said, coughing from the smoke.
We moved into his bedroom and opened the window. Pushing the screen out, we were able to hang our heads out and get some fresh air.
“Breathe slowly, big gulps of air, okay, dear?” he instructed.
“Yes, Dad.” I smiled and he patted my shoulder.
“We’ll be fine.”
In the distance I heard the fire trucks blaring their horns. Above our heads, we saw the smoke, now black, coming from the higher floors.
There was no way the fire department was going to allow us to stay here.
That meant one thing…
I took out my phone and began to dial.
“Who’re you calling, angel?”
“My future husband.”