Page 6 of Roommating

“Marcia’s the roommate you met on that app, right?” Lane asks.

“That’s her,” I say, happy for the change of subject.

Gabe smirks. “With her strapping young grandson around to flip her mattress, show her Snapchat filters, and be her emergency contact, she might not need you anymore.”

“Wait. What?” Lane looks confused, but then understanding washes over their face. “Riiiight. You’re supposed to help her out in exchange for cheaper rent.” They clench their teeth. “Gabe has a point.”

My stomach hardens. “Give it a rest. Adam is only here temporarily to mend his relationship with Marcia. It has nothing to do with my housing situation.” My phone flashes with a calendar reminder to start working on my application for a school scholarship that’s due next month, but I dismiss it. It’s not like I can work on it from here anyway.

“It always starts out temporary. I know someone who moved back in with her parents ‘temporarily’ after college to save enough for three months’ rent. Six years later, she’s still there. And she’s a lawyer now!” Gabe raises an eyebrow.

The more-empathetic Lane smiles softly at me. “I’m sure Adam will be long gone before six years.”

“But just in case, my friend Brandon’s roommate just moved out if you’re interested. Real cheap. As long as you’re okay with the bathtub in the kitchen.”

I tuck my phone back in my pocket. “Thanks for this heartfelt pep talk,friends. I’ll be off now.”

“We’re just teasing.” Gabe’s eyes crinkle in the corners.

A patron approaches Gabe to ask for thriller recommendations featuring septuagenarian main characters at the same time Lane’s phone rings. After providing my own recommendation, I leave my colleagues to their work and drag my library cart back to the fiction section.

I aggressively pushLove and Other Wordsby Christina LaurenbetweenJosh and Hazel’s Guide to Not DatingandMy Favorite Half-Night Stand, but Sita, the other page, packed the books so tightly, there isn’t enough room. Cursing to myself, I remove half the books from this shelf and the one above it, rearranging everything and leaving some breathing room for future me.

I twirl a lock of hair around my finger. As much as I hate to admit it, Gabe has a point. Marcia might not need to rely on me as much while Adam is here. But I know she wouldn’t kick me out because of it. Our arrangementbeganbecause of what I could do for her in exchange for lower rent, but it’s evolved into a real friendship.

As if the universe knows I’m desperate for validation, my phone pings with a text from Marcia.

Marcia:Hi Sabrina. I hope you’re having a good day at work. I’m making dinner and thought it would be a nice time for the three of us to spend together. Are you free? Marcia.

I recall what Adam said about wanting to learn more about my library program and smile to myself. I only talked to him for a few minutes, but Ilikedhim. Was therealsoa physical attraction? Yes, but it’s not my fault he had a major glow-up since his bar mitzvah. It doesn’t mean I’m looking at this temporary living arrangement as some sort of dating setup.Gabe. I roll my eyes. But I also don’t think Adam’s a threat to my relationship with Marcia. Whatever connection we’ll form will fall somewhere in between those parameters, and I’m looking forward to it, which is exactly what I write when I text Marcia back about dinner.

Chapter Four

The apartment smells like a steak house when I get home, and my stomach rumbles with hunger. Marcia and Adam are at the table playing cards with old rock music playing softly in the background from Adam’s phone. They greet me with smiles when I join them.

“How much has she taken you for so far?” I ask Adam before draping my bag over the arm of a free chair and sitting down.

He grins. “Three hugs and one hair tousle.”

I laugh. “You’re getting off easy. I lost an entire box of Ferrero Roche chocolates once.”

“I’ve got a great poker face.” Marcia flips her hair and grins playfully. “How was work?”

I shrug noncommittally. I can’t very well tell them about my conversation with Gabe and Lane. “It was fine. I was glad to have your recommendation ofThe Thursday Murder Clubwhen I helped a patron today. What did you guys do?”

Marcia’s cheeks glow with happiness. “We spent an hour in Academy Records and had lunch at the Grey Dog. It was a perfect day.” She stands, using her hands to push off the chair. “The roast beef is in the oven. I should get started with the side dishes.” She looks between us. “Mashed potatoes and asparagus okay with you?”

“Sounds great, Grams.”

“I agree. I’m excited!”

I typically eat dinner with Marcia only a couple times a week, and it’s rarely a large meal like this. The effort tonight is clearly because of Adam. Cooking is a Jewish grandmother’s love language. Nana Lena cooked almost all our meals when I was growing up because my mother worked full-time. I took it for granted, but what I wouldn’t do now for one more serving of her famous sweet-and-sour chicken and meatballs fricassee. I feel the familiar pang of regret and put on a happy face. “Do you need any help?”

“Nope,” Marcia says with her head in the refrigerator before bringing a bunch of asparagus and a cutting board to the small island. “In fact, why don’t you two go out for a bit? Dinner will be ready in about an hour and a half.”

“If you’re sure.” I look at Adam. “Do you want to take a walk with Rocket? I can show you the dog park.” I note the absence of barking, which means only one thing. “He’s sleeping?”

Adam nods. “Yeah. But I could go for a walk.”

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