2~Little-sunandstars~
Chapter Two
She woke up again a few hours later with the alarm screaming its melody that it thought to be a nice sound to wake up to. Andrea's idea of a wake up call was music on the radio or birds singing in the branches of the cherry blossom tree outside of her window, but since the birds were on hiatus from their songs and she couldn't see the point in buying a new clock when the one she still had, ignoring all of its evils, was still in perfect working order, she was forced to be awoken so abruptly by a loud clanging noise every morning.
It was a good thing that she had taken a sleeping pill the night before since after that phone call she didn't think that she could have fallen asleep without it. How the hell had Aithne known she was up anyway? It was creepy how much Aithne knew sometimes. Andrea would have to meet her that night or else she would come to find her and that was something she definitely didn't want or need. When she had fallen back into bed, the small white pill making her head heavy, she had forgotten to turn the light in the kitchen out and the florescent lights could be head buzzing annoyingly a few rooms away. It was the odd little noise that women alone seemed to hear; that high pitched whining that was not too far off from sounding like nails on a chalkboard. She hated that sound and walked drowsily to the kitchen to turn them off.
The apartment was large with a kitchen, bathroom, two bedrooms, and a living/dining room. She loved every inch of it. That much room allowed her to spread out and decorate as she pleased. Andrea padded across the cream carpet that reminded her of French vanilla ice cream when she cared to think about it, to the bathroom. The bathroom was neutral in color scheme and she liked it that way. She could decorate with whatever she wanted and her dark green towels looked surprisingly good against the white tiles and soft pistachio painted walls. Maybe "neutral" wasn't the best way to describe a room that's paint bordered on vibrant, but she didn't care to think that much in the morning and so that description was the only one that came to mind in its simple form. She stepped out of the shower and ran her hand over the cooler glass of the mirror, leaving a long line of clear behind, and looked at the woman who stared back at her through pale, nearly iridescent, ocean blue eyes with long thin pieces of sea weed upsetting their delicate surfaces.
Her looks were a virtual goody bag of genes since her father was from Europe and had brought with him Scottish, Polish, and English roots while her mother had thrown Spanish origins into the mix. Her siblings looked nothing like her and they seemed to have been sorted out nicely as either having light hair and light eyes or dark hair and dark eyes. Oh no, the fates couldn't give up their pleasure at watching the humans squirm and had given Andrea her father's eyes and her mother's hair while her skin tone seemed to be a blend of the two, which sometimes made it very hard to match makeup to her look. Annoying Greek gods and their mythical powers of creation, couldn't they just leaver her alone for once?
Andrea shook her hair out from the soft towel that had been wrapped around her head in a turban style a few moments before and pulled it back, with the help of an angry-looking comb, into a high ponytail at the back of her head. The drying strands cascaded down her neck and brushed her shoulders with damp fingertips from the black band that held them together. She squeezed the excess moisture out with her hands so that the droplets landed with soft plops onto the tile floor.
She walked back into her room and pulled on a nice pair of black slacks and a collared shirt with cuffed three quarter length sleeves, which were quickly followed by soft socks and a pair of dark colored tennis shoes. If she was going on location today she was going to wear whatever she wanted and, as usual, her low coal colored pumps had disappeared, most probably, into the void. She was going to have to clean out from under that bed eventually, but the thought scared her ever so slightly since she had lived in the same apartment for five years and there was no telling what exactly had been accumulated in that amount of time.
Andrea grabbed a breakfast bar and a diet Dr. Pepper from the kitchen and she picked up her briefcase, purse, and keys before she opened the door to her home and locked it behind her. She would be early for work for a change, which meant that she could take her time getting there. The building was beginning to wake up and the sounds of people getting ready for the day could be heard from behind the identical closed doors with their shiny, gold metal number (address) plates. The occupants behind door number 307 could be heard fussing with their new baby and Mr. and Mrs. So- and-So in 310 were yelling back and forth trying to find a pair of matching socks and the "red tie with the dark blue stripes." Andrea shook her head, smiling, suddenly glad that she wasn't married and did not have to worry about finding ties or dress shirts in the morning for someone else like a mother does for her children.
Ms. Maddie, a snowy haired woman, was coming out of her apartment across the hall as Andrea was picking her parcels back up after locking the door. Ms. Maddie was a nice old woman and must have been a real handful when she was young. She was talking to her small brown ball of silky fluff, with its tiny red bow propped on its head, Henry. Why the woman kept putting a bow in the hair of a male dog Andrea would never know. The dog must have been embarrassed when he went out and the other more manly dogs made fun of him and his sissy apparel. Henry began barking, although squeaking is probably a better description, at her when he noticed that the young woman across the hall form his space was near him. Andrea smiled at the woman and small, yippy dog wishing that he would shut-up.
"Good morning, Andrea. How have you been, you haven't come to visit me in a while?" said Ms. Maddie, in her slightly high voice.
"I've been fine. You?" Older women seemed to really enjoy polite conversation, even when it was occasionally forced out.
"That's nice. Do you have a love interest yet? I know a nice boy whom would love to meet you. He's very handsome," said the old woman as she smiled like she would at a child to whom she was giving a special treat.
Andrea, trying to be polite, said, "No boyfriend right now, but there is a certain guy at work that I'm interested in." In actuality there was no one at work; she just wanted the persistent little woman to stop trying to set her up with people.
"Well that's nice. You must stop by and have some tea with me sometime, Andrea. I would love to hear about what you've been doing. You young people get to have all the fun and I seem to have reached the age where I must be the person at the window looking in. Oh well, I guess it had to happen eventually." She laughed after she said it as if it had been part of one large, funny joke.
"Well, sorry to cut you off, Ms. Maddie, but I have to go to work or I might be late and I really don't want to be late today so, bye," Andrea said as she walked past the woman and her dog toward the bullion elevator doors.
Andrea readjusted the straps of her bags on her shoulders as the bell that meant the elevator had arrived ting-a-linged above her. She doors slid open and she walked briskly inside where she struggled for a moment to press the lobby button and keep all of her things in her arms. This took minimal talent and she did it every morning so soon she was rumbling along, going down level by level. On the ground floor the doors flew open as if to say "here you go, now get off or I'll make you get off" in a chipper and sickeningly sweet voice. The lobby was large with classical white and black checked tiles that shined brilliantly from the many coats of wax that covered them. There was a fireplace to the right of the elevators where a sofa and several cushiony armchairs were situated in a simulation of a happy home living room. People told guests to wait there or friends from different floors met to talk and have coffee there in the lobby. To the left of the elevators was the manager's desk where he and the doorman sat and talked all day until either something needed to be done or the door needed to be open. The building itself was fairly new and resembled more of a hotel than an apartment building. The entire top floor and the penthouse were rented out as two apartments for those who could afford them. At the moment the penthouse was occupied by a bachelor who did something that had to do with technology. Andrea didn't know exactly what it was he did since she had only half listened when they had been introduced at the building's version of a block party. The top floor was, at the moment, being rented to a young couple. The husband had continued the family business after his father had died and was apparently making very good money. His wife looked like she spent more money in one week than any normal person could spend in a year, but it wasn't Andrea's place to judge so she simply didn't bother voicing her opinions about people to others.
Adam, the new doorman since Mr. Shelton had recently retired from this position, looked up from the magazine that he was reading at the desk and smiled at her as he offered to help with her things. She declined the offer and opted for him to just open the door enough so that she could get out without dropping something as she smiled at the recollection of Adam's successor.
* * * * * *
Mr. Shelton was a jolly old man with grey and white hair covering the parts of his head that still had the ability to grow hair. To the residents of the building he was polite and as respectful of them as they were of him. His skin was creased and covered in brown liver and sun spots that made him look like a diseased tree. Although this was not a flattering analogy it was accurate in its description. His face was lined and in his old age he resembled a bulldog or maybe a pug. Always smiling, he cracked jokes as he let the tenants in and out of the building all day long. It was a sad day when he had left so that he and his wife could travel in their golden years and see the crown jewels in London, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, the Trevvy Fountain in Rome, and the Great Pyramids of Giza in Egypt. He had introduced the populace of the young building to Adam, the youthful and odd man that would be taking his place. So, with great unhappiness, they all had said hello to Adam and thrown Mr. Shelton a retirement/going away party to remember. Andrea, as she sat and laughed at the misfortune of her neighbors, was quite certain that he would not forget it since Adam, in his eagerness to help and show them all that he would do a good job, opened the door without looking and smacked a busty middle-aged woman from the fifth floor smack in the face and, they later found out, broke her nose. Then he helped the woman to her feet and handed her a tissue to stem the flow of blood down her front. As he tried desperately to make it up to her, Adam went to get her a glass of Coke, tripping on his untied shoelaces as he walked back to her, and poured the drink, ice included, down the front of Mrs. Shelton's dress. The older woman took it quite well, dabbing at the stains with a blue linen napkin, while informing the boy that he needed to get Velcro shoes if he wasn't going to tie them properly. Adam's cheeks looked like two very ripe tomatoes as she said this and Andrea laughed slightly at his discomfort. Obviously he had never been to a company sanctioned Christmas party. She'd had a boyfriend at one time that had demanded she go with him to his company Christmas party. Being the naive thing she had been coming straight out of college, she had agreed and regretted it something awful. Three hours she sat in a gray and metal office chair in the corner waiting for her date to take her home from the hell that was the working place party.
Adam then proceeded to lose his grip on three glass cups and let them fall to their doom on the cold tile floor. Through all of this Mr. Shelton had said nothing, but now he rose from his chair and strode across the room to the side of the, by now, extremely frazzled boy. Adam looked up at the old man from where he was sitting on the floor trying to get up all the shards of glass. Mr. Shelton put a hand of the boy's shoulder and directed him to go and get the broom and dustpan from the closet behind the desk and sweep the pieces up so that he wouldn't get any in his hands. When Adam had left the room to fetch the supplies Mr. Shelton turned around and looked at all of the assembled.
"What is everyone's problem tonight? Give the poor kid a break; you're acting as if he's trying to do all of this stuff on purpose. He's trying to make a good impression on you all, but you won't let him. All I ask is that you give him a chance because he deserves that at least. Now lay down your hackles and say hello. Get to know the guy like you did when you first met me. If I was in his place I'd probably pour punch on my wife too." Mr. Shelton smiled as he said it and his wife glanced at him as she laughed right along too. The two of them were such good-hearted people.
Adam walked back into the room and promptly tripped over the burgundy tablecloth that covered the scared wooden foldout table that was kept in the basement of the building until it was deemed needed. There was muffled laughter as a single woman with starch blonde hair from the second floor offered him a hand up. Red crept up his neck and cheeks as he took the offered body part. She flashed brilliant white teeth at him as she introduced her self as Jenny Leeman from the 212. Jenny had started a fad as, when one neighbor finished shaking his hand and making saying the usual niceties one uses upon meeting a new person, another would move to fill their place. The room became more comfortable as the cake, shaped like a glass and gold door, was sliced and passed out.
Mr. and Mrs. Shelton sat on a couch in the corner and to Andrea they looked like two kids with crushes. It was cute to say the least. Andrea had left the party, after saying her goodbyes to Mr. Shelton and her greetings to Adam, and gone up to her apartment where a stack of files sat waiting for her attention on the desk in her living room.
* * * * *
Andrea's shoes made shuffling noises against the pitch asphalt of the ground as she made her way across the parking lot to the covered garage where her care was parked. The day was not completely dismal, but was not trying to be bright and sunny either. The smell of rain was heavy on the air as she unlocked the back seat and dumped her bags onto the beige seats. The silver paint of her vehicle fit right in with the bleak atmosphere. Andrea pulled an emerald green raincoat out from the trunk and put on over her clothes before stooping to settle herself into the driver's seat. She clicked open the pop-top of her soda, took a swig, and placed it securely into a cup holder. The breakfast bar was tucked safely in her black leather backpack purse.