Status: Ongoing
The Four
Chapter 2
"You're here!"
I was enveloped in a life-squeezing hug within a second of the door swinging open. The bangles encircling Aunt Lydia's arms rattled in my ears and the smell of her musky perfume washed over me. The soft fabric of her wide-set headband rubbed my temples.
I was home.
"I made it, Aunt Lydia. I'm really here," I said into her shoulder, and she finally released me and stepped back.
"I couldn't be more excited for you, Ana. Come on in, don't be shy."
I wheeled my suitcase through the narrow entrance to her basement-level brownstone. It opened up to the living room, which looked exactly as I figured Aunt Lydia's would be: small, no TV, vibrantly decorated and cozy as could be. Empty picture frames of all shapes, sizes and colors hung from the brick wall the staircase was against, and the other walls were painted a muted teal. A velvet two-seater couch and wood coffee table stood right in the center, facing a Victorian-style yellow chair and atop an intricate rug. The opposite wall was entirely a floor-to-ceiling bookcase and small brick fireplace, with various trinkets and candles and plants scattered across any flat surface.
Past the living room was a dining room, which had a moderately sized wood table and chairs pushed against a yellow wall. The table was absolutely covered in papers, books and coffee mugs, telling me this was more of a workstation than a communal eating place. The room opened to the kitchen, which had a wrap-around counter that doubled as a bar with three stools. The walls were white and the cabinets dark red with silver hardware, and the walls were covered in botanical drawings ripped (seemingly) straight out of books. A single window looked out into a small stone-covered backyard teeming with planters and pots.
The whole house smelled like freshly baked bread, and was pleasantly cool despite the humidity outside. The wood floors creaked below my feet as I spun around to face Aunt Lydia.
"Aunt Lydia, your house is beautiful."
"Our house, Ana," she said with a grin. "This is your home now."
"Home," I repeated to myself quietly, like I couldn't quite believe it.
Aunt Lydia laughed, moved into the kitchen and took a serving platter out of a cabinet. "This'll be done in about fifteen minutes. Just enough time to get you settled into your room."
"Is it downstairs?" I motioned at a door off the kitchen, which was against the same wall as the staircase and therefore, must go down.
"Oh no, that's actually my space down there. It's way bigger, plus that's where the laundry is."
"Oh."
"Come on, I'll show you upstairs." Aunt Lydia took my duffel bag and shuffled past me to the staircase. I followed her up.
A single door greeted us at the top, which opened into my new room: the walls were a pale grey with the exception of the original brick wall, adorned with a single colorful painting above a quilted double bed with black iron foot- and headboards. There was a small white dresser with a gold mirror above it next to the closet, which was shielded only by a dark blue curtain. On the other side of the dresser was a door to what I presumed was the bathroom. A big window with sheer orange curtains stood above a small wood desk with a chair, flooding the room with natural light.
"Aunt Lydia, this is..." My voice trailed off as my eyes settled on a picture of her at my parents' wedding sitting on the bedside table.
"Could be worse, huh?" She chuckled and placed my duffel at the foot of the bed. "It's small, but it'll do. The tenant before you cleaned it up nicely for your arrival."
"It's perfect. I couldn't have dreamed up a better place for me."
"Well, knowing your dreams, I hardly believe that, Ana." She smiled and clicked her tongue. "You know I hate to make you pay rent but, I promised your parents I wouldn't let you breeze by."
"It's no problem at all, I've already got a job lined up, actually."
"No kidding, where at?"
"Roots, a cafe over in... South..."
"South Slope?"
"Yes! South Slope. I start on Wednesday."
"That's great, Ana!" Aunt Lydia clapped my shoulder lovingly. "I shouldn't even be surprised you got a job already. You always were the hardest worker in your family."
"Only because I wanted to catch up with you, Aunt Lydia." I smirked.
"You flatter me," she said, flipping her long braid of hair dramatically, bangles rattling. "I'll let you settle in. Bread's ready in ten!" She turned and stepped downstairs.
I closed the door behind her, leaning against it and facing my new room. I kicked off my sneakers and walked across the room to the window, toes sinking into the low-pile rug under my feet. I pulled up the blinds, lifted the window and was greeted by the warm, humid New York air. In the distance, beyond the eclectic rooftops of Williamsburg, the infamous skyline of New York City stood against the darkening blue sky.
In just a week I'd be making my first commute to class in Manhattan. Even in the face of hours of classes followed by hours of work every day and night, I could hardly wait.
I was enveloped in a life-squeezing hug within a second of the door swinging open. The bangles encircling Aunt Lydia's arms rattled in my ears and the smell of her musky perfume washed over me. The soft fabric of her wide-set headband rubbed my temples.
I was home.
"I made it, Aunt Lydia. I'm really here," I said into her shoulder, and she finally released me and stepped back.
"I couldn't be more excited for you, Ana. Come on in, don't be shy."
I wheeled my suitcase through the narrow entrance to her basement-level brownstone. It opened up to the living room, which looked exactly as I figured Aunt Lydia's would be: small, no TV, vibrantly decorated and cozy as could be. Empty picture frames of all shapes, sizes and colors hung from the brick wall the staircase was against, and the other walls were painted a muted teal. A velvet two-seater couch and wood coffee table stood right in the center, facing a Victorian-style yellow chair and atop an intricate rug. The opposite wall was entirely a floor-to-ceiling bookcase and small brick fireplace, with various trinkets and candles and plants scattered across any flat surface.
Past the living room was a dining room, which had a moderately sized wood table and chairs pushed against a yellow wall. The table was absolutely covered in papers, books and coffee mugs, telling me this was more of a workstation than a communal eating place. The room opened to the kitchen, which had a wrap-around counter that doubled as a bar with three stools. The walls were white and the cabinets dark red with silver hardware, and the walls were covered in botanical drawings ripped (seemingly) straight out of books. A single window looked out into a small stone-covered backyard teeming with planters and pots.
The whole house smelled like freshly baked bread, and was pleasantly cool despite the humidity outside. The wood floors creaked below my feet as I spun around to face Aunt Lydia.
"Aunt Lydia, your house is beautiful."
"Our house, Ana," she said with a grin. "This is your home now."
"Home," I repeated to myself quietly, like I couldn't quite believe it.
Aunt Lydia laughed, moved into the kitchen and took a serving platter out of a cabinet. "This'll be done in about fifteen minutes. Just enough time to get you settled into your room."
"Is it downstairs?" I motioned at a door off the kitchen, which was against the same wall as the staircase and therefore, must go down.
"Oh no, that's actually my space down there. It's way bigger, plus that's where the laundry is."
"Oh."
"Come on, I'll show you upstairs." Aunt Lydia took my duffel bag and shuffled past me to the staircase. I followed her up.
A single door greeted us at the top, which opened into my new room: the walls were a pale grey with the exception of the original brick wall, adorned with a single colorful painting above a quilted double bed with black iron foot- and headboards. There was a small white dresser with a gold mirror above it next to the closet, which was shielded only by a dark blue curtain. On the other side of the dresser was a door to what I presumed was the bathroom. A big window with sheer orange curtains stood above a small wood desk with a chair, flooding the room with natural light.
"Aunt Lydia, this is..." My voice trailed off as my eyes settled on a picture of her at my parents' wedding sitting on the bedside table.
"Could be worse, huh?" She chuckled and placed my duffel at the foot of the bed. "It's small, but it'll do. The tenant before you cleaned it up nicely for your arrival."
"It's perfect. I couldn't have dreamed up a better place for me."
"Well, knowing your dreams, I hardly believe that, Ana." She smiled and clicked her tongue. "You know I hate to make you pay rent but, I promised your parents I wouldn't let you breeze by."
"It's no problem at all, I've already got a job lined up, actually."
"No kidding, where at?"
"Roots, a cafe over in... South..."
"South Slope?"
"Yes! South Slope. I start on Wednesday."
"That's great, Ana!" Aunt Lydia clapped my shoulder lovingly. "I shouldn't even be surprised you got a job already. You always were the hardest worker in your family."
"Only because I wanted to catch up with you, Aunt Lydia." I smirked.
"You flatter me," she said, flipping her long braid of hair dramatically, bangles rattling. "I'll let you settle in. Bread's ready in ten!" She turned and stepped downstairs.
I closed the door behind her, leaning against it and facing my new room. I kicked off my sneakers and walked across the room to the window, toes sinking into the low-pile rug under my feet. I pulled up the blinds, lifted the window and was greeted by the warm, humid New York air. In the distance, beyond the eclectic rooftops of Williamsburg, the infamous skyline of New York City stood against the darkening blue sky.
In just a week I'd be making my first commute to class in Manhattan. Even in the face of hours of classes followed by hours of work every day and night, I could hardly wait.