1I don't own the Twilight Series. Obviously.
A/n: Just a few quick notes; A gangway is a sidewalk that runs between houses in the city. I'm sure most everyone knows this, but I like to have all my bases covered. Also, radiators in old houses are not always bare, sometimes they'll have a metal casing/cover over them. Slap a scrap of carpet or some cloth on top of the radiator cover and you have a comfortable sitting area. There...I think that's everything I wanted to get out there.
As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter, feel free to review, criticize, question, etc.
Chpt 5: Adjustments
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It was Saturday morning. After two and a half grueling days of driving, I had finally made it to Chicago. I was parked in front of my new home, standing in the street and hauling a couple of my bags out of my trunk. The house was located in an old residential area on the south side. Far enough from the city for families to flock to the area, close enough to the city to work or go to school there. Brick houses with wide front stoops lined the street, packed in tightly next to each other. Parents sat on the front steps of houses, gossiping back and forth; watching children play peacefully on the sidewalk. Large old trees were planted along the street, shading the mercilessly hot cement sidewalk. Two giant red maples were standing tall in front of the house I would now be living in. My new home was a two story red brick beast of a house, heavy and old fashioned. Unlike the homes around it, there was no front door; access to the house could be had through the two doors on the side of the house. The front of the house had narrow windows lined up in rows of three, aluminum awnings stretching out from the rusty brick.
I hoisted my bags out of my trunk and walked down the gangway, unlatching the gate to the back yard. The gate swung closed behind me with a jarring metallic clang and I winced, glancing backward at the offending metal contraption. The back door would give me access to the apartment on the second floor. The owners of the home were expecting me, and had told me over the phone last night to just let myself in back and head upstairs. I walked up the back staircase, past the door on the first floor that would give access to the kitchen of the family, up another set of stairs, and stopped, putting my bags down and pulling out the key Mr. O'Malley had given me when we had signed the lease last month. I could smell breakfast cooking below me, and my stomach grumbled painfully. I would have to find someplace to get breakfast soon. I unlocked the door, and stepped up a few more stairs into my kitchen. I put my bags down slowly, and looked around me, absorbing details that I may have missed when Renee and I had visited in the first place. There were three windows lining the wall behind me, looking down onto a small back yard. One window had a new air conditioning unit shoved into it and secured with a piece of wood and duct tape. There was a small desk below the windows. A sensible wooden table with thin, small chairs sat off to my right; to my left was a wall lined with a counter, an old refrigerator, and an even older oven. I passed through the kitchen, into the hallway, frowning at the doorway on the left. It gave me immediate access to the residence of the family below; Mr. O'Malley had pointed out it would come in handy in case of fire emergencies, which had made Renee quite nervous. To the right were two doorways. One led to a small bathroom, the other to a tidy bedroom, already furnished with a bed and dresser. The hall I was walking through opened into a livingroom. The livingroom had windows that faced out the front of the house, onto the street below. There was a long radiator set below the windows. Rose colored carpet (newly installed) covered the floor, and rose print wallpaper covered the walls. A small couch and chair, both with matching rose print adorning them, were centered around an old television in a heavy wooden case. An old record player was pushed off to the side, hiding in a corner. I sighed and walked over to the window, sitting on the radiator and staring out at the dark livingroom in front of me. I laughed softly, thinking back to when Renee and I had first viewed this apartment.
Renee had been worried about how old the house was, how dark the house was; how crowded the street was. The drafty windows, old wallpaper, lack of washing machine and dryer. She made her displeasure known to me in harsh whispers, giving the owner of the house sidelong glances. I blushed in embarrassment countless times. Renee had clearly not liked the apartment, and had pressed me once again to take a look at all the lofts that were being advertised downtown. I had had to remind Renee repeatedly that downtown and the north side were simply out of my price range, and we were lucky to find this apartment. The owners were kind and decent, and most of the furniture was new; even if the house itself and appliances were quite outdated. So while Renee wandered around the apartment, voicing grievances, Mr. O'Malley and I had hammered out the details of my lease. Him and his wife owned the building, and lived on the first floor with their two young children. He cheerfully offered me the use of their washing machine and dryer in the basement, although he regretted that the garage simply wasn't big enough to fit my car along with his and his wife's.
My reverie was interrupted by a loud bang and I jumped, startled, as I glanced wildly around the livingroom. I stood carefully, walking back to the kitchen, where I quickly noticed the object that had offended my peace. A large box had slipped off the table and was now lying on the floor, towels spilling out onto the linoleum. I laughed quietly to myself as I picked up the towels, carefully transporting them to the small closet in the bathroom.
Thusly, I spent the day. Cleaning, unpacking, meticulously placing my items in drawers and cabinets, on shelves. A photo of myself, mom and Phil at the beach took a central spot on the one small, round end table in the livingroom. My books were shoved into the bookshelf in the hallway. By the time my unpacking was done, the time was nearing midnight. I yawned, stretched, and plugged the new laptop Phil had given me into an outlet behind the ancient desk in the diningroom. The modem crawled, and I drummed my fingers impatiently, narrowing my eyes at the offending object. Finally, connected to the internet, I logged onto my e-mail, and gasped when I saw the contents. The first three were from my mother, and the final was from Alice.
"Bella,
How was the drive? You should be in Chicago by now, call me when you're all settled in.
Mom"
"Bella,
It's getting near dinnertime. Why haven't you called yet? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Phil said Hello, by the way.
Mom"
I groaned, cringing as I opened the third e-mail, sent half an hour ago.
"Bella,
Don't think I won't jump on a plane and fly out there. Call me now.
Mom"
I immediately hit "reply," typing a quick note to my mother.
"Mom,
Calm down. I'm fine, everything is fine. I just finished unpacking; it's been a busy day. I will call you in the morning. Try not to worry too much.
Bella"
Finally, I opened the e-mail from Alice, laughing when I saw the contents.
"Bells,
I called your house, and your mom told me you left for Chicago. Thanks for letting me know. It certainly sounds better than Forks right now. How is the shopping out there? How is school? Anything interesting happening lately? You might want to pick up a rain coat and some galoshes. The weather can get really damp. Give me a call when you're not busy, I was thinking about flying out for a visit.
Alice"
I closed the window on that one, deciding I would just give Alice a call in the morning. Of course she would be talking about visiting me. Her dad's incredible job meant a large expendable income that Alice took full advantage of. The tip about the weather was a little odd, but I shrugged it off. Alice could just act strange sometimes, like she saw the world in a different way than the rest of us.
I glanced at the clock, cringing when I noticed the time. I only had one week left until the semester began, and in the meantime I still had to find a job and figure out how to get around the neighborhoods of the city without getting lost. I glanced into the bedroom shivered at the thought of sleeping in an unfamiliar room. I decided to forgo sleep for the moment, and sat down in the livingroom to re-read Wuthering Heights.
A/n: There. This semester has loaded me down with work, so I simply haven't been able to update. I did however find this smidgen of a chapter on my computer tonight, so I decided I'd just go ahead and post it. I won't make any promises about when I'll post next, because things are pretty hectic right now. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this new, tiny, installment.
