Ron scrapes the remainder of his oatmeal into the garbage. Then he lifts the full trash bag and ties it off. Ron opens the door to take it down to the dumpster.
He stops. “Oh, hi.” His gaze fixes on the open door across the hall.
The door to 224 is open. In it stands a fit sixty-something woman holding her trash bag. “Hello,” she says with a smile. “Are you headed down to the dumpster?”
Ron slams the door and scurries off down the hall.
The woman wonders what she did wrong. People usually responded friendly she greeted them, but not this man.
Moments later, they pass on the stairs.
“My name is….” She doesn’t finish her sentence in response to Ron continuing without making eye contact.
Later that day, Ron is chatting with the greeter at his local Walmart. To his right, he catches a glimpse of the woman with her right hand extended. “Hello, my name is Courtney. I’m your neighbor.”
Ron quickly says to the greeter, “I’ll catch you later.” He then rushes to the center of the store. When he stops, Ron finds himself surrounded by women’s underwear. He then calmly heads off to the dairy section.
Ron places a dozen eggs in his cart when he hears a female voice say, “Why are you always running away from me?”
“I’m not running away from you. You’re stocking me?”
“You’re not the only one who shops at Walmart.”
“Listen, lady, I’ve been a widower for ten years, and I’m not looking to get married again.”
Courtney shakes her head and walks in the opposite direction.
Ron scrutinized those in the self-checkout lines for the absence of Courtney before choosing one.
Back at his apartment, puts the eggs in the refrigerator and plants himself in the recliner for a nap.
Three hours later, Ron cracks the door to his apartment. Seeing the door to 224 closed, Ron snuck out of his apartment and down to the laundry room in the basement.
Ron pushed the door open. He froze at the sight of Courtney putting her clothes in the dryer.
Courtney looked up to see Ron. “Here’s an open washer.”
“Are you stalking me?” Ron says, remaining in the doorway.
“I was here before you. Since you are here. Go ahead and use that washer.”
Ron crams his clothes into the washer, while Courtney watches and says, “Don’t you separate your whites from colors?”
Ron ignores Courtney as he puts the quarters in the machine.
“That’s why your clothes all look dingy.”
“Don’t criticize my laundry habits, and I won’t criticize the way you dress.”
“What’s wrong with the way I dress?”
“I don’t like a woman who dresses like a lawyer and stalks me.”
“I’m not stalking you. We just go to the same places at the same time.”
Ron stares at his washer.
“Why is it you don’t want to talk to me?”
A woman in her mid-twenties walks into the room with her laundry. Feeling the tension between the two, she announces. “The laundry room is not a place to fight. Take it upstairs to your apartment.” She leaves with her laundry for another day and time.
The two stare at the door as the woman storms out. After what seems like an eternity of silence, Courtney says, “My name is Courtney. What’s yours?”
Feeling embarrassed, Ron replies, “I’m Ron and I am not looking for any relationship.”
“Neither am I.”
“Then why do you dress the way you do?”
“I’ve worked all my life in a law office. I recently retired.”
“I retired five years ago.” I lost my wife ten years ago.”
“What do you say we call a truce?” Courtney extended her hand.
Ron took her hand. He paused, for it had been some time since he had felt. What he felt, he couldn’t label. Ron found himself for the next two hours, comparing with Courtney their likes and dislikes along with highlights in each other’s lives.
Ron said as he put the last of his clothes in the basket. “It has been good talking with you. Maybe I can take you out to dinner sometime?”
“I would like that.”
Ron followed Courtney up the stairs. Each carrying their baskets of clothes. They each put their baskets in their apartments while leaving the doors open.
For the next several hours, Courtney and Ron sat in their respective doorways talking.
Several hours later, Ron looked at his watch and said, “It’s getting late. I need to put my clothes away. You have a pleasant evening, Courtney.”
“You too, Ron.” Courtney sat in her doorway thinking about the events of the day, before going into her apartment and closing the door.
