Knock
Dessa Little
Knock, knock, knock.
Teresa glances up from her laptop at the clock that’s way too big for the wall—just the way she likes it. Six o’clock. ‘His punctuality is impressive,’ she admits to herself. In an effort to create more of a work/life balance, she’s decided her workday now ends when he knocks on her door at 6 p.m. during the week. And she only writes on the weekends when she doesn’t want to forget a great phrase or scene that pops into her mind.
She smirks at herself after she unconsciously checks her appearance in the mirror. ‘Haven’t done that in centuries. Self-knowledge can be really annoying.’
She opens the door to young, gorgeous Ryan. Wearing the smile she’s sure has attracted not only women his own age (39 years old!), but also plenty of younger ones. But he stands at her door, with a bag of take-out.
“New Thai restaurant just opened near the bus stop at work. Thought we’d try it out,” he says as he enters her apartment.
For what seems like the thousandth time since he entered her life two months ago, he’s flabbergasted her. She may have mentioned that Thai is her favorite cuisine in passing, but he remembered. She has dated guys for years who didn’t know or care.
As he places the bag on her kitchen table and starts to remove the cartons, he babbles because he’s nervous. “Didn’t want the food to get cold, so I came straight here. Didn’t change my clothes…”
“I’ll take care of this. Go change,” Teresa offers.
The nervousness disappears. Again, she’s amazed. A few words from her have calmed him. The smile reappears.
“Be right back!”
Teresa attempts to concentrate on warming up the spring rolls and setting out the appetizer plates. So she doesn’t appear to be lazy, she now uses her plates instead of the plastic take out container she had used to eat by herself for over a year. But her mind wanders to a familiar subject: Why me?
When he first moved in across the hall, she suspected he targeted her as a potential sugar mama. He made a point of introducing himself and she made certain not to be forthcoming with any personal information except her first name. She knows her cute days are long gone: enough gray hairs to require henna dye, deepening smile lines and middle-age spread is her current reality. An easy mark for a wannabe boy toy.
When he knocked on her door the next day and asked to borrow a screwdriver, she quickly, subtly informed him that she was a starving writer. The only reason why she can afford an apartment in this building is that she rented it under a long-defunct program that set artists up in posh buildings. They pay rents at a quarter of the market value. Subsequent owners have let her remain under the agreement--grandfathered in.
Ryan’s response was to ask her questions about her work. They spent the entire afternoon discussing works of fiction they loved. Her favorite part was when they debated the merits or lack thereof of each other’s favorites.
Still confused by his continuing attentions, she came up with a lame excuse to get inside his apartment. What confused her more was that he was pleased by her attempt. When he volunteered to pick up a pizza for them from the shop around the corner, she snooped around. Until she found it, she didn’t realize what she was looking for: his pay stub. Once she saw what he makes every two weeks as an engineer, she realized that she would have to have four extremely good years in a row to equal what he makes in one.
The sugar mama theory blown to bits, Teresa decided he was a nice young man who wanted to get to know his neighbors. She notes how cordial he is with them when she has the opportunity to witness his interactions with others in the building. Which is a rarity because she avoids them. Having seen so many come and go, she doesn’t feel the need to get emotionally attached.
One neighbor on their floor that now occupies too much of her attention is Ms. Madison Parker. Their only mode of communication had been the exchange of silent nods as they passed each other in the hall. Once Ryan moved in, whenever she saw Teresa, alone or with him, Ms. Madison would break into a monologue that always included a mention of her fast approaching 30th birthday.
After initially giving polite responses, Ryan’s reactions began to signal definite disinterest. One day, the whole scenario struck Teresa as so silly, she pretended to cough to mask a chuckle. Neither Ryan nor Ms. Madison were fooled by the performance.
Feeling guilty about possibly embarrassing the young woman, Teresa had made up her mind that the next time they ran into each other alone, she would suggest that Madison should try not to press so hard. After all, she is a pretty girl and more age-appropriate for Ryan.
But the next time she saw Ms. Madison, she was with a couple of other girls her age. And she made a point of complaining about “cougars” who don’t know their place. That they should stop chasing after young men and being “pathetic.”
Teresa hates the word cougar and all that it symbolizes. She never had nor has any intention of chasing after any man, no matter his age. It’s been decades since she has had a relationship. No longer having to contort herself to fit some man’s idea of what she should be. She’s happy being left alone.
But Ryan continues to stop by. Still searching for answers, the talk of cougars did get Teresa thinking that maybe Ryan had mommy issues. Maybe he grew up without a mother, wasn’t close to her or maybe was too close and wanted an easily accessible replacement.
But that theory has been demolished, also. His parents, Scott and Diane, have visited twice since he’s moved in. The first time, Ryan brought them over to her apartment and introduced them. The second time, he invited Teresa to join a family dinner at his apartment.
He and his mother seemed to have a great relationship: not too much distance nor clinginess on either end. And, Teresa noted that Diane was perfectly nice and easy with her. No “stay away from my little boy” vibes.
Unfortunately, Teresa did get those vibes from Scott. When they were first introduced, she felt like he was sizing her up. But she dismissed her instinct as an over-active imagination.
At the dinner, however, there was no mistaking he was not pleased by her presence. What really caught her off-guard was that he purposely hid his reactions toward her from Ryan. Diane, however, gave her husband several admonishing stare downs throughout the evening.
Part of Teresa wanted to assure Scott that he had nothing to worry about. But she wasn’t sure if saying something would make things worse. She kept her mouth shut.
“Spring rolls smell so good,” Ryan says. Startled out of her revelry, he smiles at her and rubs her back right below her neck. “Sorry.”
She knows she’s staring at him like a deer in headlights. “No worries. Just…uh…” She opens the microwave and removes the spring rolls. “I know they’re evil, but I don’t know how I ever lived without a microwave.”
He chuckles. “Lucky us! Microwave to heat our food and chilled plum wine from my fridge,” Ryan states as he raises the bottle. Plum wine is her favorite and he’s holding her favorite brand.
She wants to kiss him.
The urge causes her to throw up her hands and rush out of the kitchen.
“Are you okay?!”
She’s facing away from him. She wants to run: out of the apartment to regain her sanity. But she screws up her courage and turns to face him. “What is this?! Why me?!”
His dazzling smile appears again. But he lets it simmer. “Because…you’re you.”
What a cheesy, perfect thing for him to say!
He steps cautiously towards her. He reminds her of a cowboy in the movies who tries not to spook the wild horse. “I get that our age difference is unusual…”
She laughs out loud. He grins and bridges the distance between them.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he continues. “You’re beautiful. Smart. Creative. We share the same warped sense of humor…”
She decides to share her deepest fear. “But I don’t want to be someone’s joke. Ever again.”
He gently touches her forehead with his and closes his eyes. Then he pulls back and says, “Neither do I. I want serious love, to last a lifetime.” He laughs at her reaction. “I know we’ve just met and barely know each other’s…details. But I see, I know, what’s most important about you. I’m willing to take the time for you to find out what you need to know about me.”
Thousandth and one amazement. “Which one of us is the professional writer?”
He kisses her.
She’s determined to learn what she needs to know.
Dessa Little
Dessa Little writes stories that celebrate the kaleidoscope of African American women.