“See, it means ‘ironworker’, or maybe ‘smith’.”
“Wait...smith…wouldn’t that person just be named like, ‘Smith’…I mean, that’s an actual name.”
Liz comes back to her chair, smiling again. “I told you, not an exact science…also, I’m no expert, just someone who likes names and has a passing interest in their meanings,” she says. There’s a long pause as she watches me, “Are you relieved?”
“Relieved about what?” I look back at her a little too hard and feel like I’m giving away all the feelings I have about my last name.
“About the name’s meaning. I mean, you seemed a little concerned about what it meant.”
“I guess it’s good to know that’s not what it means, but it’s meant that to me for so long…I don’t know that I’ll ever not believe it,” I say. I’m being too honest. I feel like she’s pulling back my skin and looking at my insides, at the truth on my insides covered by the lies of my outsides.
“I gotta go,” I say abruptly.
“Lola, I’d like to stay with this…you seem emotional about this and we should talk about it.”
“I gotta go,” I say again and put my hand on the door.
“Okay…but we didn’t pick a day or time for you to come back.”
“Uh. Fridays at six.”
“Okay. I can make that work. I’ll see you next Friday then?” I’m out the door before I can answer her.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be back. I don’t like how this sharing is starting to feel.
°
On my break at work, I use the computer to look online for apartments. Everything is insanely expensive, so I quickly change my search to looking for apartment shares and rented rooms. I’ve written down about a dozen names and phone numbers – all for places that either sound terrible, or are so far away from everything I know that they might as well be in another state – when Liesel comes in for her usual mid-day lying-on-the-floor-reading break (she’s moved on to Frankenstein). She barely even glances at me as she settles in, but when I’ve given up my search and am heading back out she pipes up. “Looking for a new place to live?”
“How did you-” I start, eyebrow raised, “Oh yeah, the books have ears,” I say gesturing to everything around us with a wagging index finger.
“Yup. I know everything,” she says, winking. I smile back at her. I like her. She’s so direct. I wish I could be more like that.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Might be, I have the perfect thing,” she says, laying her book down on her chest.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. My brother, Ben, and I are looking for a roommate for our spare bedroom. We’ve got a great second floor walk-up in Chelsea. If you don’t think it would be too weird to work together and live together?” she says.
“No,” I say, jumping at the chance. “I mean, we barely see each other at work anyway,” I add helpfully. She nods.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Plus, I like you. You seem…solid,” she says looking me up and down.
“Solid?” I ask, not sure what she means.
“You know, honest, together. Also, you’re not a jerk,” she adds. I laugh.
“Thanks.”
“Plus, if you live with Ben and me, it will be like living in a cartoon or something,” she says, a twinkle in her eyes. I raise an eyebrow.
“How so?”
“Well, you’re like Amazon tall,” she says, “And Ben and I are both super short…it’ll be funny.” I realize as she says it I’ve never seen her standing up, she’s always lying down, and sometimes just appears out of nowhere like Batman. And as if she’s reading my mind, she stands. “See?”
And indeed I do, even with her wrapped afro that easily adds six inches to her height I’m a good eight or nine inches taller than she is. I look down at her and nod.
“You’re right. We look like characters cast for some absurd comedy,” I say.
“Totally,” she says, plunking down again, “So, come by today. You get off at six?” I nod silently. “Come today after work and I’ll show you the place. Decide then.” I nod. It’s all happening so fast.
“Okay. Thanks,” I say. Liesel tears a piece of paper off a pad on the desk and scribbles an address and hands it to me. “I’ll see you at like six-thirty then,” I say, examining the address and then putting it in my pocket.
“Perfect,” she says and lies back down with her book.