The building had been here a long time, but it was well-kept. There were only ten apartments, and the structure had been refurbished from a boarding house built in 1875. Griff flashed me a grin over his shoulder. “Luckily we’re on the third floor and not the fifth.”
At each landing, there were three doors. Griff had told me on the phone that there was only one bathroom on each floor. I wasn’t sure I’d like that very much. The pro was that the majority of the other residents in the building were students at Ashurst Medical Center, like Griff and his roommate. They were unlikely to have any loud parties in the building to disturb their studies. I still wouldn’t want to share a bathroom with them though.
Griff opened the door to his apartment and motioned for me to go inside. I loved it instantly. The apartment had the charm of early last century. Even with furnishings chosen by Griff and his roommate, the place had a warm character to it. Much like my Gran’s house did in Portsmouth. The difference here was the “city posh” feel to the location.
“This is the main living area. My room is this way,” Griff said grinning. He knew I loved it here without asking what I thought. I followed him across the room to the first door on the left. “Chet’s room is over there. His cousin is coming today to stay for a week or so off and on. They’re going to share the room, which should work out fine since he has a bigger room. Mine is the smaller one, but my rent is a hundred less a month than his.”
His door opened and the simplicity of it was perfect. There was a full-size bed in the far-right corner up against the wall. His large overstuffed and faded blue chair sat in the other corner. It had been his grandfather’s chair and he was attached to it. The chair had been the only furniture he moved here. The rest he’d bought when he arrived. This was my first time seeing it; although I’d asked him to send pictures, he never got around to it.
One single floor lamp stood beside his chair. A black three-drawer dresser sat against the left wall with a black framed mirror hung above it. Beside that were book shelves full of his textbooks and other medical journals. All he needed was an area rug and I made a note to buy him one. The floors would be cold soon.
“This is amazing,” I said, tilting my head to look up at him. He smiled then bent his head to kiss me. He was happy here and I was relieved. I felt as if he’d chosen Boston because of the proximity to my Gran’s house. I hadn’t been sure what to do with her house, but the idea of selling it had been too painful for me to consider. When he had chosen Boston for med school, I’d made my decision easily enough.
Now, I got to live in it and start my life in New England. Far enough away from my mother and her insanity to find some peace. No one knew me here; I wasn’t known as the famous country singer, Denver Copeland’s, daughter like I was in Nashville. I could just be me.
The door to the apartment opened and a male voice began talking. I hadn’t met Chet yet and knew little about him. Griff had been so busy since moving here, our talking had been limited.
“Room’s to the right. Your bed is the one on the left,” I heard him say. He wasn’t alone.
“You get to meet both my roommates,” Griff said, looking pleased.
Then he spoke…The other one…the new temporary roommate. Time slowed and I stood there unable to move. Breathing seemed difficult. My heart was the only thing moving quickly…too quickly. Butterflies erupted in my stomach and although I knew it wasn’t true. It wasn’t him. The voice…it was so similar. Deeper now but the tone, the accent, it was the same. I was going to hyperventilate if I didn’t focus on getting myself under control. It was just a voice. Nothing more. Emotions churned in my chest, overwhelming me, and I still couldn’t move.
Griff’s hand found mine and I heard him say, “Come on,” as if my world hadn’t just been tossed into a churning sea of memories, both good and bad. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes briefly. It had been six summers since I’d seen him. Six years since our lives changed without notice. Why did Creed Sullivan still affect me so much? It wasn’t fair that the sound of a voice could do this to me.
I needed to see the stranger’s face and I knew my emotions would stop going crazy. I just needed reassurance that it wasn’t Creed. Once all I’d wanted was to see Creed Sullivan again. I had wanted to ask him why, have him hold me, promise me he still loved me but that Sailor was no longer. The one thing I had overcome was loving Creed.