A Dozen Ways to Find You

Omelet

Apartment hunting was dragging on longer than Amber expected. She had hoped to find a decent place by the end of August, but it was halfway through September and the housing market was not getting any better. A realtor had warned her that it it wouldn't be easy to find an affordable place that had a balcony and allows cats in this city.

Amber found this listing on her own, though. "Small, but Sweet Apartment Overlooking Downtown. Cats Allowed!" The title was not a stand-out, but the pictures were interesting enough for her to request a viewing. This one was a self-tour; all she had to do was put a code in the lockbox on the door.

She plugged the address into her phone and paid special attention to landmarks along the drive. It was exciting to her that a few of her favorite stores happened to be within a mile of the apartment complex. Her commute to school would be less than 20 minutes from this area. She felt herself becoming hopeful—a feeling all too familiar that always ended in disappointment.

The Cascade Apartment Complex was larger than she expected. Brick buildings numbered 1 through 10 were dusted with the yellow pollen of early autumn. She could see that each structure had a walkway that eventually led to a community park. It seemed like a nice place to live from the outside.

As she approached the stairs to building 2, she noticed a balcony was attached to every apartment. With only having about five feet of clearance between them, there would not be much privacy here. The decorative railings were oak-stained and complimented the brick.

She was winded by the fourth floor, but arriving at the fifth Amber was alive again. The fifth floor seemed to be the highest one in the building.

Nobody will keep me awake with stomping, she thought. Nice.

She took her time down the hallway, checking for the number from the listing. The beige door of 258 was outfitted with a small green lockbox for which she had the code ready. 1-3-1-4 produced a single gold key and Amber shimmied it into the door.

Bright light poured into the hallway as the door opened wider. On the farthest wall, the patio and windows on either side. The studio was narrow, but stretched far enough to accommodate a large bed and dresser. Amber wondered where she would put the cat tree— in the corner by a window seemed fine.

The wood floor was a bit aged and the walls could use a new coat of paint, but this apartment had good bones. For the price, it was all that she had been looking for. She felt herself beginning to commit this place.

She turned the brassy handle of the patio door. Pushing it open caused a creak as it widened. Her eyes settled on those oak railings she loved. She could see herself planting flowers inside garden boxes in the spring.

Looking over the railing, she could see well-traveled trails tracing the community park. It was quiet and sunny and green. This was the kind of place she imagined herself living when she moved— someplace medium.

"Stupid fucking egg."

Who said that? She wondered.

Amber examined the neighboring balconies. Neither of them had any patio furniture and it seemed as though nobody lived there. Could she hear something frying?

"Oh are you my new neighbor?" a muffled voice asked.

She was confused now, not seeing anyone. A few seconds pass. The patio door on the balcony to the right swings open until it knocks into the wall. A man walks out holding an egg.

"I could see you through my window. Sorry about the yelling," he said. "I am doing this egg-diet thing and keep dropping them everywhere." He gestures to the building. "You moving in?"

"I'm considering signing the lease," she smiled. "How do you like it here?"

"I guess haven't really thought about it." He spun the egg between his fingers. "Been around this place since I was a kid. It's home."

Amber liked the idea of being somewhere for that long. 

"I have to warn you, the girl living across from me is deranged," he laughed.

"Oh really?" Amber questioned. "She doesn't like eggs?"

He repositioned his stance and crossed his arms. "I'll save the story for when you move in."

Amber scoffed jokingly.

The man stood there, his arms still crossed. "Any other questions before you sign your soul away for the next 6 to 12 months?"

"How thin are these walls?"

"Not too bad. Want to hear?"

"Yeah, actually." Amber walks back inside the apartment and the man walks into his.

Amber hears shouting through the wall.

"To the pretty lady next door, can you hear me?"

Amber smiles while she cups her mouth and yells, "Yes I can hear you!"

More shouting. "Could I interest you in an omelet?"

"No, thank you!"

"I still don't know your name!"

"Amber!"

There are a few seconds of silence.

She is startled when she hears the man's voice coming from beside her. "Nice to meet you, Amber." He had somehow climbed onto her balcony. "Here's your house warming gift." He tossed her the egg and she caught it. "I'm Cole."