Page 6 of The Off-limits Grump Next Door
“If that wasn’t an apology, then what was it? I said I was sorry—twice.” I paused, counting the words in my head. “No, wait... three times, if you count the part where I said ‘I apologize’. How is that not an apology, Mr. Antonio?”
His brows shot up. “How do you know my name?”
“Oh, um... the landlord mentioned it when he called this morning and asked me to apologize.” It wasn’t entirely a lie—the landlordhadsaid his name, but I’d recognized Antonio long before that from the moment I’d seen him scowling at me while I struggled with my bags.
“So, you expect me to accept this mockery of an apology?” He crossed his arms, reminding me why we were even having this ridiculous conversation.
“Well, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t.”
“Okay.” He turned to retreat into his apartment, already closing the door when I instinctively reached out and stopped it with my hand.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, more sincere this time. The last thing I needed was another landlord’s call threatening to return my rent. I wasn’t going to let Antonio ruin my fresh start. “Please… I’m sorry for the sarcasm earlier, and for what happened last night. I’ll stay as quiet as I can and make sure we never cross paths again. Just... don’t call the landlord again. Please.”
He paused, his gaze softening ever so slightly. The deep crease in his brow relaxed. “Now, was that so hard?”
I ignored his taunt and withdrew my hand, standing a little straighter. “Thank you,” I said, turning back to my apartment. I might not have been totally sincere with my apology, but I was sincere with one thing; I was going to avoid him like a plague.
I neither had the strength, time, nor will for any male related drama. I bolted the door behind me, feeling the emotional weight pressing down on me. I missed my husband. I hated that I had to start all over, in a place where I didn’t belong.
My phone buzzed, interrupting the ache in my chest. It was the plumber I had called the night before. My first night in the new house was just one problem after the next. After the fire alarm incident and I discovered that I couldn’t salvage my dinner, I tried to wash off the pot before going to bed, only to find that the tap in the kitchen wasn’t working.
I had called the landlord but he wasn’t taking his calls, and asked me to text him instead. So I sent my complaint, and his reply was the contact of the plumber, with an apology for not remembering to fix it before I arrived, and a note to not bother with the payment.
“Hello, is this Ms. Kendra in unit 204?” the man asked, his voice gruff.
“Yes, this is Kendra.”
“I’ll be at your place in about forty-five minutes. Is that okay?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
I microwaved the leftover pizza from last night and made myself a cup of coffee. As the plumber worked on fixing the kitchen tap, I settled into the couch, sending out more job applications while scrolling through local hiking spots.
I couldn’t shake the weight of the last few days off my shoulders. Starting over was exhausting, and I was still grappling with the loss of everything I had left behind.
Once the plumber left, I decided it was time for a much-needed break. I changed into my hiking gear, grabbed my small backpack, and hailed a cab on Patton Avenue.
The Bent Creek Experimental Forest was only a short ride away, and the thought of getting out into nature gave me a brief sense of relief.
I needed the air to clear my head. From having to choose between apologizing to Antonio and being refunded my rent, to dealing with plumbing issues on my second day in Asheville… I was this close to calling my brother to come get me.
I knew Tom would send me a flight ticket the very next day if I asked for it. But I was no longer that little girl he had to keep safe from the harsh realities of life… I had to do this on my own.
As I started my hike, the scent of pine and earth surrounded me, calming my nerves. The trail wound through a canopy of trees, and I welcomed the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.
I rounded a bend and noticed a woman taking pictures. She spun around too quickly, tripping over a hidden root. With a cry of pain, she fell hard onto the trail. I rushed over, helping her onto a nearby fallen branch.
“Are you okay?” I asked, eyeing her swollen ankle.
She winced, clutching her leg. “I think I twisted it.”
I reached into my backpack for my first-aid kit and expertly bandaged her ankle. She let out a breath of relief.
“Thanks, that feels better. I’m Tina, by the way.”
“Kendra,” I replied with a smile. “And, you’re welcome. Want me to help you get back out?”
Tina smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Kendra. I think I’ll be okay now.”
