Wish We Never Started

14

We pull up to Sadie's apartment building.

The whole thing looks much more lavish and modern than I initially remembered it being, even in the dark of night. Some of the lower level units have freshly painted french doors that open up onto a spacious balcony, complete with glistening golden railings.

Not a single window unit air conditioner in sight.

"See you, brother," Diego says with a salute as I push the passenger side door open.

In response, I just chuckle, because any kind of vocal response seems to be stuck in the middle of my throat.

A gentle push of the tall lobby doors is all it takes for me to be transported somewhere I could only go back home in San Francisco.

The lobby smells like mingling scents of Christmas cookies and pine, dancing together beautifully above the white marble floors. It's clean and sophisticated, and in my mind, the only thing I can think of that's missing is soft jazz.

When I look up, I see a large and obviously fake Christmas tree hanging from the ceiling, lit up with big white string lights. The hallways and doors of the second and third floors encapsulate the perimeter of the lobby, the same golden railings present as the outdoor balconies.

There must be one hell of a penthouse up there on the twelfth floor.

Unsure of exactly where to go, I start walking forward, underneath the tree and past an impeccably clean grand piano. Christmas decorations are everywhere – from frosty pine twigs to giant jingle bells, it's all here.

Thankfully, the elevators show themselves straight ahead and when I get to them, I press the button to go up. Sadie's phone call replays in my head. Apartment 4B.

The entire ride up, I wish I took the stairs. The amount of energy I didn't know I needed to burn off is bubbling up inside of me.

When I reach her door, I knock firmly and wait for someone to answer. When I put my ear close to the door, I can hear the bass of music playing.

This will be the first time in three weeks that we've talked. Our schedules haven't lined up lately and even when they did, we're working in different parts of the diner.

For the first time in a while, I feel out of place in this big fancy building, but I keep telling myself I'm not.

Sadie finally answers the door abruptly, and I know immediately that she's already a few drinks in.

Her appearance strikes me – she looks different.
Her hair is a bit longer, a bit messier.
She is holding her shoulders a little higher.
She has a full face of makeup on, even topped off with glitter on her chest.

"Hey you," she says casually, like we haven't seen each other in a year.

When she pulls me in for a hug, she smells like cherries, vanilla, and spice – sweet and warm at the same time.

"How are you?" I ask eagerly when we pull away.

She smiles bashfully, shrugging, "drunk. But I'm on the water train now, at least until it's time for shots closer to midnight. Why don't you come in."

Sadie moves to the side, smiling as she watches me step inside and look around in amazement.

Her apartment is much more spacious than mine. It's undoubtedly newer and has huge windows overlooking the city. Despite being on the fourth floor, it feels at least a few higher.

Her furniture looks like something out of a magazine, especially the silver chandelier above the dining table. Her apartment literally looks like one you would see on HGTV.