It was a late Friday afternoon when I arrived home from work. The sun slanted through the gaps in the blinds, painting stripes of gold across the tan carpet in my living room. My apartment was slightly cold but not uncomfortable and I could hear the wind rushing past my windows on a very cold blustery, wintry day. A rumbling in my stomach confirmed what my head already knew: it was time for dinner.
I was trying to decide between fajitas or Ramen as I as I sat on the couch and propped my feet up on the coffee table. "Maybe I'll order both and eat one tonight and the other tomorrow." I thought to myself.
A sharp rap on my apartment door cut through my inner monologue. I paused, wondering who could possibly be stopping by. Opening the door, I was greeted by an unexpected sight. Teresa, my neighbor from across the hall, stood bathed in the golden light of the afternoon sun shining through the open hallway, her usually bright smile replaced with a worried frown that caused me to be concerned for her "Teresa, are you alright?'
"Ethan," she began, her voice strained, "My apartment is completely flooded. A pipe sprung a leak while I was at work and I came home to a very wet mess. I notified the leasing office and they just called me back to inform me a plumber has been called. They also informed me that the carpet has to be replaced. Ethan, it will take at least a week for the job to be completed." She wrung her hands together, a nervous habit that always seemed to accentuate the graceful curve of her wrists."
"I don't have enough money to rent a hotel room for a week and I have nowhere else to stay." Her gaze dropped to the floor, then drifted back up to meet mine, filled with a desperate hopefulness that tugged at my heart. "You've always been so helpful and nice to me, and I trust you. Can I crash here until my apartment is ready? I promise I won't be any bother."
My gaze swept over her. The faint tremor in her hands, the worried crease between her brows, the way she kept biting her lower lip worried me. The image of Teresa, usually so confident and self-assured, suddenly vulnerable like this, was enough to make me very concerned. I found myself nodding automatically before I could even consider saying no.
"OK, Teresa," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "It’s okay. You can stay with me until your apartment is ready."
I was trying to decide between fajitas or Ramen as I as I sat on the couch and propped my feet up on the coffee table. "Maybe I'll order both and eat one tonight and the other tomorrow." I thought to myself.
A sharp rap on my apartment door cut through my inner monologue. I paused, wondering who could possibly be stopping by. Opening the door, I was greeted by an unexpected sight. Teresa, my neighbor from across the hall, stood bathed in the golden light of the afternoon sun shining through the open hallway, her usually bright smile replaced with a worried frown that caused me to be concerned for her "Teresa, are you alright?'
"Ethan," she began, her voice strained, "My apartment is completely flooded. A pipe sprung a leak while I was at work and I came home to a very wet mess. I notified the leasing office and they just called me back to inform me a plumber has been called. They also informed me that the carpet has to be replaced. Ethan, it will take at least a week for the job to be completed." She wrung her hands together, a nervous habit that always seemed to accentuate the graceful curve of her wrists."
"I don't have enough money to rent a hotel room for a week and I have nowhere else to stay." Her gaze dropped to the floor, then drifted back up to meet mine, filled with a desperate hopefulness that tugged at my heart. "You've always been so helpful and nice to me, and I trust you. Can I crash here until my apartment is ready? I promise I won't be any bother."
My gaze swept over her. The faint tremor in her hands, the worried crease between her brows, the way she kept biting her lower lip worried me. The image of Teresa, usually so confident and self-assured, suddenly vulnerable like this, was enough to make me very concerned. I found myself nodding automatically before I could even consider saying no.
"OK, Teresa," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "It’s okay. You can stay with me until your apartment is ready."
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