Romantic love story

Chapter Thirteen: Not Much Pride, but Some Prejudice

He hoped she wasn't going to fall asleep again. It would be easy to do, all curled up on the couch, worn out from her trip into Watertown that afternoon.

Terry sighed as he rummaged through the filing cabinet beside his office desk. Even Debbie wasn't napping, but off playing with her sisters at a next door neighbor's house. That pint-sized little girl had more stamina than Madison, and never had that been more evident than the way Madison had curled up on the living room couch with that precious notebook of hers and closed her eyes to the world.

He hoped she wasn't sleeping.

"Hey, John?" Terry looked to his friend at the second desk. "Have you seen a dark red folder labeled 'tenant applications'? I know I had some spare forms, but I can't find them."

"Red folder?" John thought a moment. "Have you tried the locked cabinet in the corner? That's where you usually keep all the legal docs for the complex."

"No, I already checked." Terry flipped past some thick business folders, a mystery paperback that had been shoved in and then forgotten, a stack of old brochures he'd stopped using to advertise the apartments, the user's manual to the microwave in his kitchen... wait a moment. He flipped back, tugged out the paperback and groaned. A library book, and by the looks of it, grossly overdue.

He tossed it onto the desk. He'd take care of it later, but right now, he needed to find those forms.

When he found them wedged between last year's tax returns, he promised to get more organized. He pulled out a blank residency application, grabbed a pen and a stiff notebook, then headed for the living room.

The occupant on the couch wasn't asleep yet, and she blinked at him as he sat down in John's recliner.

"Okay," Terry clicked the pen, "let's get started. This is for apartment number four. The move-in date will be... let's say next Monday; it'll take longer than that to find furniture, but we'll tackle that when we come to it. Lease dates-- check, monthly rent-- one dollar."

"Terry, that's not fair."

"Quiet, I'm busy. Applicant's name, Madison Crawford. Address, phone number-- I'll leave that one blank; after last night, your own cell phone is definitely on the get-list. Email-- none, previous address..." here, Terry paused. "Okay, where did you live before you came to Three Mile Bay?" He looked to the couch, and those stormy gray eyes locked on him. "Come on, Maddie, I need this for the records. Where did you used to live?"

She shook her head.

"How about the state? Was it New York, or somewhere else?"

Her mouth pulled into a tight line, and she hugged the notebook closer.

"You're not going to tell me, are you. Not even for me? See this?" He held up the paper. "This goes into a locked security cabinet in my office, right down the hall. No one will ever see this but me."

Hurt stirred in those storm-tossed eyes, but she remained silent.

He sighed, crossed out the offending questions and moved on. "Can you give me your former employer?" It was a needless question. She wouldn't tell him where she was from, and by the looks of her, he already knew she'd never held down a job. "Never mind, I'll cross that out." Despite himself, he chuckled at the situation. "I tell you, Maddie, you'd better be grateful I'm such an understanding guy." He glanced at her, and when he saw that faint smile, he breathed easier that he wasn't making an enemy by asking questions. "Social Security number?"

As if to prove they were friends, she gave it to him without a moment's hesitation.

"Let's see. No income, no children, no pets. Right? You haven't taken in any stray cats or dogs I should know about, have you?"