Cricket: Ember's Story

Good Luck

Cricket is walking now. Talking too, albeit in a 2-year-old's almost indecipherable language. His first word was cookie, which is perfect because he's a chub-monster. Right now he's standing beside me with his sticky little hand in mine and the other on his mouth, sucking his first and second fingers.

I sigh as I look around at the tiny apartment. It's right in our price range, which means it's also in a lot of other people's price ranges too, and several of those people are currently scrambling to get into it. I shouldn't have fallen in love with it like I did, but it was the age and the hardwood floors.

I loved the mansion because it was ancient, and now I've been drawn to another old place. I like old things. That's something I've learned about myself now that life is calm and I can think straight. This building dates back to the 20's and has been sliced and diced every which way to split it into ten tiny apartments. This unit also has a window, a big one with a beautiful view of the tallest tree on the street. The heater isn't working as well as I'd like it to. The place might be on the cold side, but man... I want to live here. Sure it's only one bedroom, but we could make it work by hanging curtains to create a room for Cricket. It would work for a few years anyway while we save up for a bigger place.

"Stop dreaming," I tell myself. I know there's practically no chance the landlord will choose us.

That's what West is doing right now, trying to negotiate with him. He's an old, crotchety type who isn't exactly thrilled about the concept of renting to an ex-con and a young mother with a (cute but messy) toddler.

We need references, and I don't have any. Neither does West. I thought about using Soledad Cruz as a reference, but a social worker might raise a red flag in the landlord's mind.

The only other person West could ask is his dad. They're getting along better but things are still rocky, West has told me. He also hasn't met me yet and West has never asked me to come on any of his visits, even though I know he's told his dad about us.

"Right now, it's hard enough for him just to get comfortable with me again, so I want to introduce you and Cricket slowly," he told me.

Of course we have our friends to use as references, but having a real adult would probably go a long way towards getting our application approved, and real adults are hard to come by.

West comes back in the room and looks at me. His face is neutral. I can't tell if he has good news or bad news.

"Well?" I ask.

He shrugs. "It's like this. He's already agreed to rent it to someone else, but if that falls through we'd be his second choice."

"Seriously? That's great news! Much better than I thought!" I exclaim.

"I'm pretty sure it's Cricket. He wants a nice, quiet, family-oriented community here."

"Um... quiet?" I say skeptically, glancing at Cricket.

"I'm sure he's aware that kids make noise. He just doesn't want the place full of a bunch of gangbangers. He would prefer families, and that's one advantage we have."

I sigh, taking one last look at the place. "Okay. That's all we can do."

West nods and takes my hand in his. "We'll find a place that's perfect for us," he says.

I know West is right, but it's hard to leave that pretty little apartment with its big tree outside.

We don't get back on the train that takes us home. When it stops for us to board I walk forward a few feet before realizing that Cricket and I are alone. I look over my shoulder and see West not moving.