“Tanya! Stop!”
And then, a taxi pulled up.
“Fuck! It’s Celia!” Alex screamed and began turning around in circles like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off.
Tanya continued screaming as ties, Italian shirts and leather loafers fell to the ground. Celia looked impeccable in an Audrey Hepburn-type ensemble as she stepped out of the taxi and then looked up.
“Alex, you fucking piece of shit!” Tanya yelled and tossed his briefcase out the window.
“Fucking cunt!” Alex yelled and ran out of the place and down the stairs as Tanya continued screaming.
As his briefcase hit the ground, Celia looked up. She saw me in the window. I whispered, “I’m sorry.” But I knew she was too far away to even read my lips. She knocked on the taxi window as the driver started to pull away. The taxi stopped, she calmly opened the door and eased herself into the back of the cab. The perfectly calm Celia was back. So cool and nonchalant. I don’t know how she always kept it together. Maybe Celia’s life wasn’t so perfect, after all. As the taxi door shut, Alex came running out the building.
“Celia! Wait! Wait!”
The cab drove away and Alex frantically tried to pick his belongings up off the street. A few moments later, he ran back inside.
“Look” he said as he dumped an armful of stuff on my sofa. “You’ve got to fix this. I swear to you on my mother’s head---if you fix this, I’ll find a way to let you take over the lease. You can talk to her…”
“Forget it, Alex.”
Suddenly Tanya ran up the stairs and pushed her way passed us carrying Alex’s laptop in her hands. Alex yelled at her to stop, but she walked over to my window and opened it with the strength of ten men.
“Tanya. Not my computer. Please. Let’s talk about this.”
She didn’t even bat an eye as she tossed it out the window. Then she calmly walked past us, but stopped to address me.
“By the way, I’m sure the management company will love to hear all about you.”
“All about who?” Nate said as he stood in the doorway.
“Nate! Buddy. What’s up?” Alex asked in his acting voice. Although what scene that one was from, I had no idea.
“I stopped by to let you know that the roofers are having some problems… What’s going on here?” he asked as he looked around at the bunch of us. “And whose stuff is that outside?”
“I threw his things out the window. Because he’s a cheating, lying little rat. And she’s been living here illegally for the past year. I’ll be sure to let your boss know about your little girlfriend,” she threw in as an added bonus as she finally walked out and slammed the door to her apartment downstairs.
“Shit,” Alex suddenly remembered. “My cell phone!” he cried out and ran out the door.
“You’ve been living here?” Nate seemed utterly confused.
“I’m sorry. I’m not his girlfriend. I’m a friend of his girlfriend. Not Tanya. The blond at the party. I’m sorry.”
“Where are my keys? Where are my fucking keys?” Alex asked as he ran back in and frantically searched the room.
“Hey! Alex!” Nate said as he grabbed him by the arm. “You’ve been subletting this place? How could you screw me over like that?”
“Well,” Alex fumbled as he tried to catch up. “How could you kiss my girlfriend?”
“She’s not your girlfriend!” Nate practically screamed.
“Look, I don’t know what qualifies as girlfriend in your book, but we’ve been living here together and…”
“Alex. Stop it,” I declared.
“Dorrie,” Alex leaned in quietly. “Let me handle this. I’ll get you this apartment and you’ll help me with Celia.”
“No, Alex. I won’t.”
“Okay, check this out,” Alex said to Nate as he picked up the Ted’s Ribs and Chicken shirt off the chair and pulled it over his head. “See. This is my shirt. It’s here. I’m here. I think that should clear things up,” he said as I heard a woman’s yell and what sounded like a bag of golf clubs hitting the pavement. Alex winced. But didn’t move. Instead, he begged.
“Nate. Buddy. Com’on. This is my home.”
“It’s not your home,” I stood up. “Well, it was; but currently it’s my home and I’ve lived here for the past year. You’ve been counting on my desperation for weeks and I’m not lying for you anymore.”
“Look,” Nate said, more exasperated than anything, “who lives here?”
“I do,” we both said at the exact same time. Suddenly, the ceiling gave way. Plaster, timber, debris and everything but the kitchen sink came crashing into the room----including the little Spanish guy who lifted a sheet of drywall off his chest and shook off the dust. A few other Spanish guys looked down from the gaping hole in my roof.
“All right,” Alex conceded. “She lives here. I’m going to a hotel,” he said as he grabbed a few of his clothes off the sofa and walked out.
“Oh my god,” I said as I knelt down next to the maintenance man. “Are you okay?”
“Okay, mami,” he said as I reached out to help him up.
Within a few minutes, Nate got into an ambulance with the maintenance man. One of the paramedics told me that the roofer had a few bruises and a broken rib, but would be fine.
Left alone, I began trying to clean up the mess on the floor. I put on my boots, my face mask and work gloves. I even put on my coat. With only half a roof over my head, it was freezing in there. At least no worries about catching a cold---I already had one.
Just then, it started to snow. It was now snowing in my apartment. Finally, I
