Up & Out - Ariella Papa [47]
There have been times in my life when I have considered Tommy the funniest person on earth; however, today is not one of them.
“Was it really necessary to buy all these shoes?”
I find it best to avoid speaking to him. I know he is doing me a favor by letting me move in. I must keep telling myself that. I didn’t have any time to pack up during the week, so I had to do it all on Saturday and Sunday and move on Memorial Day. Even though it’s only the end of May it’s already really hot. Tommy has come over to help me. I thought about asking Seamus, but that might entail explaining why I was moving in with Tommy. I stuck to the story that I had hired movers and wouldn’t have a chance to set up my phone for a while.
It isn’t easy to maneuver the bed around the corners and the situation is only exacerbated by Tommy’s insistence on calling me Mrs. Cole because he thinks my glasses (which I had to put on because of dust) make me look like a librarian or something. I have stopped paying attention to what was cracking him up so much. My arms hurt from carrying boxes and I’m in no mood to be trifled with.
I alternate between telling myself he is doing me a favor and reminding myself that it could be worse—I could have to find my own apartment in New York City. And that would really drive me over the edge.
The thing about moving in Manhattan is that it can be very good for getting rid of stuff; for example, I decided to get rid of my little bookcase so I left it in the street, and by the time Tommy and I made our next trip with a couple of boxes it was gone.
There are a certain amount of groupies who seem to follow moving vans around the city. A crowd has formed around ours. I had to shoo people away from my mother’s antique dresser. We left it next to the truck for a second while we got into the back and tried to rearrange our space. A woman and what appeared to be her teenage son pounced, and they were halfway down the block when I caught up with them.
“Hey, that isn’t trash.”
“Oh, I saw it on the street for a while and I figured I would ask you about it,” she says. It was on the street next to the van for all of three minutes and she didn’t ask me about it. I shake my head and she puts it down and walks away. Tommy is right beside me.
“Nice job,” he says. We high-five goofily and stand looking at each other for a strange minute. I think I should have given a lot more thought to moving back with someone who is still so cute to me.
By the end of the day, we have finally driven the van to my “once and again” apartment. My thighs hurt from stair climbing and all I want is to get a foot massage from Tommy, but he is not my boyfriend anymore. That is not allowed.
Jordan is over, a little surprise I get when we pull up in the rented van. He is waiting outside smoking a cigarette.
“What’s Jordan doing here?”
“I called him,” Tommy says. “There’s no way I’m hauling all that stuff up five flights with a girl.”
I know Tommy was only teasing and I know that he was smart to call Jordan, but it isn’t easy to hang out with a guy who did your best friend so wrong. I kiss him hello and try to avoid him for the rest of the evening. Not an easy task when you’re moving stuff up five flights of a narrow staircase.
I am on the defense at any mention of Lauryn. At one point he asks me if I’ve had any word from “my friend.” Please.
“I have a lot of friends,” I say. “If any of them wanted you to get word of them they would give it to you themselves.”
I ignore the look I get from Tommy, but later when we’re moving in my dresser, he gets pissy.
“He’s trying, you know. You’re lucky he’s here to carry up all your fucking clothes.”
“You have a short memory,” I say. I wasn’t going to forget the way Jordan treated Lauryn. I feel Tommy let up a little on his side. “Okay, we can talk about it later. Next time, I’ll hire movers.” Although I did that last time I moved out of here and it drove me further into debt. Now I was