Was it a knock that had woken her? She felt along her nightstand until she reached her glasses, then she haphazardly slid them up the bridge of her nose and hurried to the door.
“Just a second!” She called, peering through the peephole as she fumbled with the locks.
Standing before her was Mr. Lupetsky, the landlord. Before he could even speak she knew what he was about to say. She could have sworn she wrote him the check last week, although judging by his expression it was clear he didn’t receive it.
“Angela, where is the rent?” He sighed exasperatedly. “This has been a monthly occurrence and I’m beginning to wonder if maybe I should look for a new tenant—”
“What? No, no, no!” Angela smiled nervously, “I thought I dropped off the check last week, but let me grab my purse just incase.”
She shuffled to the kitchen counter and opened her purse. Sure enough the check was right there.
“See, Mr. Lupetsky?” She held the check out to him as she returned to the doorway. “It’ll be on time next month. Promise.”
Taking the check, Mr. Lupetsky nodded. “Good. Don’t be late next time!” He looked at her sideways as he moved toward the staircase.
Angela closed the door and took a deep breath. The oven clock flashed angrily over the stove as she pulled open the refrigerator door and examined its contents. Her options were pretty bleak, to say the least, but eventually she settled on a jar of pickles that didn’t smell too bad. With pickles in hand, Angela sat cross-legged on the sofa and switched the TV on.
As she flipped through the channels she knew she had overslept because all of the daytime soap operas were on. Finally she settled on the one that looked the most melodramatic and then pulled a pickle from the jar. The pickle juice ran down her hand as she bit into it, but she didn’t feel like getting up for a paper towel and just wiped it on the leg of her jeans. She made a mental note that she needed to do some laundry but then decided it could wait a little longer.
It was well into the afternoon when Angela finally got up from the sofa and got ready for the day. She changed out of last night’s clothes and hopped in the shower just as the water got warm enough. Wasn’t there something she was supposed to do? She seemed to remember making plans with Charlotte but couldn’t remember the details. Once she toweled off and threw on a fresh t-shirt, Angela searched through her sheets for her phone. Just as she lifted her pillow the screen lit up with a picture of Charlotte’s freckled face.