“Hi, Penny. Nice to know you,” he said, shaking her bleach-scented hand. “I’m Raoul.” He glanced around her apartment. “Hm, nice place you’ve got here. Are you new to the city?”
Penny blushed. “Yes, I just moved here.”
“From Mississippi.”
She furrowed her brow. “Yes. How did you know? Is my accent that noticeable?” She’d been working on masking her southern drawl, but it must have been more prevalent when she was singing to herself.
He smiled and cocked his head to the side. “Nope. It was the return address on this package that says ‘From Mom’.”
“Oh, right.” She smiled back and took the package from him. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
She realized with a jolt that she had no cash and not even a cold drink to offer the deliveryman. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money to tip you,” she said, grimacing. “As you might have guessed, I’ve spent it all on this luxurious walk-up.” She gestured to the dingy walls and peeling linoleum.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d rather have your number, anyway.”
She was taken aback by his boldness. I guess that’s something about New Yorkers I’ll have to get used to, she thought, looking at the floor and blushing further. “Um, well, I don’t have a phone line connected yet.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. She didn’t have a landline, but then she didn’t intend to get one, either.
At that moment, her cell phone started ringing from the next room. Raoul laughed out loud, a warm and cheerful sound. “I see. Well, have a good day, Penny. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
He turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Penny threw back her head and let out an exasperated groan, stomping back to her room to grab the phone from her purse. She looked at the display screen and saw a number she didn’t recognize. A call from one of the agents she’d met with, perhaps? Taking a deep breath, she flipped open the phone. “Hello?” she said sweetly, hoping she didn’t sound too flustered, or too southern.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Cleaning Up
Being the type of person who faces tough problems head on, Penny decided to tackle the grungy bathroom first. Heck, she had on rubber gloves, she might as well get this one over with. Scrubbing at the icky stains reminded her of something her Mom used to tell her when she would get overwhelmed cleaning her messy room, "Just start in one corner and go around the room cleaning as you go." Penny's Mom had always been good at the whole cleaning thing. Way better than Penny herself. Keeping her room clean as a little girl just never seemed like a top priority...there were always more fun and exciting items on her list of things to do.
Humming to herself, Penny continued scrubbing the bathroom making some good progress. Finally, all she had left was the floor. Starting in the corner farthest away from the door, she got down on her hands and knees. Using the "spray and wipe" method, she began to make that floor shine. As she scrubbed, she found herself getting into the song in her head; it was a hit from a new musical she had recently seen. The song talked about the passionate hopes and dreams of a young artist like herself. Feeling the words of the song as if she were singing about her own new endeavor, Penny belted out the last long notes of the ballad. Sitting back on her feet at the door of the bathroom and sighing with satisfaction, she jumped when she heard a noise behind her.
A gorgeous man in brown stood in her living room offering her a clipboard and pen to sign for a package. Penny recognized her Mom's handwriting and smiley faces all over the box. Good old Mom. She probably sent that the moment I drove away.
"Sorry to startle you, Ma'am, but your door was open and I have a delivery for you. Beautiful voice, by the way..."
He had a smile in his eyes as he said those last words. Penny was suddenly very aware of her dishevelled appearance starting with her frizzy hair and ending with her yellow rubber gloves. Great first impression, she thought. Oh, well.
"Thanks." Penny ripped off the gloves that reeked of Clorox and accepted the pen, signing for the package. Stepping out of her comfort zone, she impulsively stuck out her hand, "I'm Penny!"
Humming to herself, Penny continued scrubbing the bathroom making some good progress. Finally, all she had left was the floor. Starting in the corner farthest away from the door, she got down on her hands and knees. Using the "spray and wipe" method, she began to make that floor shine. As she scrubbed, she found herself getting into the song in her head; it was a hit from a new musical she had recently seen. The song talked about the passionate hopes and dreams of a young artist like herself. Feeling the words of the song as if she were singing about her own new endeavor, Penny belted out the last long notes of the ballad. Sitting back on her feet at the door of the bathroom and sighing with satisfaction, she jumped when she heard a noise behind her.
A gorgeous man in brown stood in her living room offering her a clipboard and pen to sign for a package. Penny recognized her Mom's handwriting and smiley faces all over the box. Good old Mom. She probably sent that the moment I drove away.
"Sorry to startle you, Ma'am, but your door was open and I have a delivery for you. Beautiful voice, by the way..."
He had a smile in his eyes as he said those last words. Penny was suddenly very aware of her dishevelled appearance starting with her frizzy hair and ending with her yellow rubber gloves. Great first impression, she thought. Oh, well.
"Thanks." Penny ripped off the gloves that reeked of Clorox and accepted the pen, signing for the package. Stepping out of her comfort zone, she impulsively stuck out her hand, "I'm Penny!"
Monday, September 22, 2008
Chapter One; The Apartment
Penny closed the door and leaned her slim back against the scratchy frame. The room smelled like cigarette smoke. She closed her eyes and inhaled the obnoxious scent.
"Home, sweet, home," she said quietly. The old apartment was bare save for her mattress on the floor in the the room she optimistically dubbed "the suite". The closet-size "suite" was the nicest room in the decrepit place. Only one wall had a hole in it and there was still some paint from the previous tenant visible. The rest of the apartment wasn't quite so lucky. The kitchen walls held the stains of nicotine and burnt food. The bathroom wall... She didn't want to know what those stains were from. Brown nicotine covered the walls of the front room and there were various sizes of holes scattered throughout the room.
"But," she whispered to the nicotine walls. "It's mine. All mine. I can do this." She smiled at the grungy home.
Moving to New York to follow her dream of becoming a Broadway actress motivated Penny's smile. Who cared about stains and holes in the walls when the shiny stars of Broadway were calling? She could stand this apartment for a year. Next year, it would be the Ritz!
"First order of business, clean this blasted place!" She popped her yellow rubber gloves and reached for the disinfect. "This apartment won't know what hit it!" And the scrubbing began.
"Home, sweet, home," she said quietly. The old apartment was bare save for her mattress on the floor in the the room she optimistically dubbed "the suite". The closet-size "suite" was the nicest room in the decrepit place. Only one wall had a hole in it and there was still some paint from the previous tenant visible. The rest of the apartment wasn't quite so lucky. The kitchen walls held the stains of nicotine and burnt food. The bathroom wall... She didn't want to know what those stains were from. Brown nicotine covered the walls of the front room and there were various sizes of holes scattered throughout the room.
"But," she whispered to the nicotine walls. "It's mine. All mine. I can do this." She smiled at the grungy home.
Moving to New York to follow her dream of becoming a Broadway actress motivated Penny's smile. Who cared about stains and holes in the walls when the shiny stars of Broadway were calling? She could stand this apartment for a year. Next year, it would be the Ritz!
"First order of business, clean this blasted place!" She popped her yellow rubber gloves and reached for the disinfect. "This apartment won't know what hit it!" And the scrubbing began.
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