Page 16 of Riesling with My Roommate

“Quiet is a good thing.” Sara screws up her face. “I would have to pay rent. I mean it,” she says when I open my mouth to protest. “If you don’t tell me how to pay you, I’ll just start leaving hundred-euro bills around.”

“Fine, you pay me what you would have paid for the mushroom apartment.”

“That’s too little,” she argues.

“It was also your own place. Here you’re just renting a room instead of the entire building.”

Sara’s mouth opens and then closes. “I know you’re making me a really good offer, but I feel like I’m supposed to protest more.”

“I’m inclined to blame the patriarchy.”

Her dark eyebrows lift. “You know what? Me too. Why should I turn down such an excellent offer when it’s really going to help me out? Screw that.” She holds her hand out for me. “Roommates?”

“Roommates.” We shake on it.

5

Sara

After agreeingto continue our roommate situation, an office chair magically appears in the kitchen the next day, which is definitely going to help with some of the tightness in my lower back as a result of sitting in a wooden chair for nearly a week while working.

Two days later, there’s a note on the fridge. I get excited thinking it is going to be another adorable drawing from Chris—the previous ones are in my room on the dresser—but it’s a note.

Movers coming at ten to clear out the front room for you.

Around ten, I leave my headphones off so I’ll hear them knock. When I open the door, there are two burly men with a van parked behind them.

The one on the right grumbles something at me in German, and I smile at him. “Entschuldigung, ich spreche kein Deutsch.” I have been trying to get in an hour of my language classes every night, but being able to name the colors or ask where the bathroom is located isn’t super helpful right now. At least I can apologize for not speaking German.

They look at each other, and I wish Chris was awake. After a minor hesitation, I move aside to let them in. They head straight for the door to their left, one that’s been closed ever since I moved in and I haven’t peeked into.

Chris told me to expect movers, but what if it’s an elaborate heist? What if one of these paintings is worth a lot of money and . . .

I open my mouth to protest but snap it shut as soon as I see the contents of the room. It’s a dining room with a long, polished, wooden table and high-back chairs all the way down. The wood floor matches the rest of the house, and there’s a set of chandeliers over the table, the center one slightly larger than the flanking pair. It looks like the table from Beauty and the Beast, but instead of a dark, cavernous room, it’s light and intimate.

What really grabs my attention, though, is the wall on the right. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflect the opposite windows. The lighting right now is perfect, indirect and soft.

The movers pick up the furniture, making trips in and out. Since the van is right up at the front door and the dining room is against that wall, in no time, there’s a spacious, empty room.

Literally my dream yoga room.

The movers make one trip in the reverse direction, delivering a modern glass desk into the room.

One guy waves before exiting and closing the door behind him.

I watch the reflection in the mirror as the van pulls away.

Then I Julie-Andrews spin again.

After that silliness, I move my work stuff into the room. I’ve been filming on the back deck and also using some footage I recorded back home to publish videos on a regular schedule. But this room is going to be perfect, not only to record but to set up my live sessions and have an office to edit so that I don’t have to work in the kitchen.

And I need to get my backlog built up. It’s Saturday, and Zoe is coming to visit me Tuesday night and staying till Friday morning.

One appeal of this program for her is that the class schedule is pretty compressed, so she should have time to explore Europe. She has one class Monday and Tuesday for four hours a day, but the class only goes for four weeks. She has Wednesday and Thursday off right now, but that changes later in the semester.

When Zoe leaves Friday morning, I’ll travel with her to Munich, where I catch my flight to Rome to meet Tessa, Jade, and Emma.

My chest tightens, thinking about Rome. I know that it’s good for me to take breaks and to spend time with my friends, especially since I’m turning into a recluse in this giant house with no one to talk to except a moody artist who keeps a weird schedule.

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