Page 17 of Moonstruck at Midnight
Mrs. Sullivan, the real estate agent who previously supervised the apartment on my father’s behalf, approached us bearing keys and a manila folder. My father introduced us and talked to her while I wandered around the lobby, secretly anxious and excited about everything.
“Come on, kiddo, ninth floor.” My father wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked to the elevator.
The first thing that came to mind as I stepped into my apartment was: too big, considering I’d be living by myself. It was too big, even if I had a roommate, but cozy compared to the Residence in Paris.
Mrs. Sullivan gave me a brief tour of the tastefully decorated place.
Across the foyer, an empty gallery tempted me to hang a few of my photographs, followed by a living room with the coziest gray lounging sofa and large windows overlooking Park Avenue. We continued into a modern six-person dining room beside the living room. The kitchen was at the far end, just beside a small bedroom and a pair of closets.
“Mimi will use this room as needed. You can expect her to arrive tomorrow afternoon and help you unpack and fix you a few meals. She’s already bought some things to eat and drink,” my father explained.
“David’s coming tomorrow to meet you. He’ll be working his first shift with Caleb. I’ll ask them to send you their shift schedules each week. That way, you’ll know who’s going to be following you around.” He teased.
“And sweetheart, please, no funny business. Let’s make this easy. This transition is new to all of us. I expect you to cooperate with the guys if they advise on anything. They know what’s best.” He sighed with a defeated air to it.
I nodded and went in for a hug. He was feeling nervous, I could tell.
“Come on, let’s go see the rest of the place,” I suggested, pulling his arm softly. There was still the other side of the apartment awaiting inspection.
I dropped my backpack and camera bag on the loveseat of the master bedroom and jumped back on the king-sized bed with my arms open and the biggest smile on my face. I couldn’t hide my excitement anymore.
“Could you at least pretend to be sad about leaving me?” My father playfully complained, but he was right. I was thrilled.
The doorbell rang.
It was Aaron and Caleb with my things. They placed the suitcases and boxes in the foyer. I glanced at Caleb, who was eyeing the place around with curiosity and amusement. “Nice view, Miss Murphy,” he said proudly. You could tell how excited Caleb was about moving to New York. I was too.
We both knew it was going to be a big change compared to how we lived in Paris. Less protocol, more freedom? I hoped. Perhaps he did too, and that’s where his excitement came from.
“We’ll see you tomorrow. Let us know if there is anything you need.” Both Aaron and Caleb excused themselves and left.
They were living in a smaller apartment on the second floor of the same building. My father wanted them to be available 24/7, just in case.
I took out the Eiffel Tower key chain with the symbolic key my father gave me on my birthday and added the new keys. “I’m keeping the fake key,” I told him, “as a good luck charm.” His lips went into a pursed smile, filled with warmth, and I thanked him again for the hundredth time. I walked him out. We hugged each other and said our goodbyes.
The large window in the living room invited me to step closer and enjoy the view—to stare at how the night came upon the city, lighting it up in a million, tiny, bright lights. And just then, without notice, that gut-wrenching feeling that hadn’t overcome me in a while kicked in.
Would I ever stop missing my mother? Unlikely.
The unyielding grief remained challenging to conquer at the most unexpected moments. And after sobbing for an undetermined amount of time, I finally dragged myself to bed and fell asleep.
Not a single dream I dreamt that night as if I’d unplugged myself from existence.
April 17, 2009
ONE DAY AT A TIME,I kept telling myself—foryearsnow. I got out of bed feeling better, but still dragging some of those difficult feelings from last night, knowing they would surely fade away as the day progressed.
Waking up at quarter to nine was late for what I was accustomed to, but God knew I needed that.
There were days when I wouldn’t think about my mother, as if the universe had granted me an oblivion spell. But a part of me couldn’t help but feel guilty about it when my mind slid back into awareness.
I grabbed my Blackberry and found a bunch of texts waiting for me on the security detail group chat. No word from Thomas yet. Was he a liar?
Caleb:Good morning, Miss Murphy.
Caleb:Everything ok, Miss Murphy?
Caleb:Let us know if you need anything.
