Room For Rent

Chapter Three

When I told my parents about the ad and the meeting with Connor Callahan, they were a bit more trepidacious than I was. My dad agreed to go to the meeting with me. While I knew that it was the smart move to make, I was beginning to feel a little foolish for bringing my father with me to meet a potential roommate. I have always been independent, and several times that has gotten me into trouble. 

My dad really is the best person to bring with me to meet Connor. He is 46-years-old, and despite his salt and pepper hair, he doesn’t look it. He has managed to keep himself in shape, and his rough upbringing in New York gives him this ‘don’t mess with me vibe’ that has sent many a potential boyfriend running for the hills. Despite that, he is a big softy. Dad has been the backbone of our family for my whole life. He has never once failed to make time to be there for mom and me whenever we needed him. 

I know that my mom would also like to come with us, but the last thing that I want is to have both of my parents there for the initial meeting with Connor. Mom has this naturally warm and welcoming presence, with her slight frame, long blonde hair, and bright green eyes. She has this uncanny ability to turn into a bit of a shark when she feels that someone is trying to pull one over on her. Part of me wants her to come along just in case Connor decides that rent should be higher than he listed or the deposit is non-refundable. If I weren’t in the process of trying to feel more in control of my life again, I probably would bring her. 

I don’t quite have my mom’s ability to turn into a shark, but I have learned how to use my own strengths and stand up for myself in these kinds of situations. I take after my mother in looks, but I have my dad’s more reserved personality. That doesn’t mean that I roll over and let people take advantage of me. 

We are scheduled to meet with Connor at 11:00 a.m., which gives me plenty of time to get ready. I decide to dress in business casual. In marketing, I have learned the value of the first impression. My black slacks and form-fitting navy blue blouse give the impression of sophistication without the after-taste of having a stick anywhere a stick doesn’t belong. My blonde hair is left loose but tamed from the wild curly mess that it usually is by heaps of chemicals. I apply light make-up and wear black ankle boots that only have a slight heel. 

Looking into the mirror, I begin to feel a bit of my usual confidence seep back in. Then as if I had been slapped with it, the sound of Eric and Emily crashes through my head. Fighting to keep my shoulders from curling in on themselves as if I have taken a physical blow, I turn and walk out the door. 

“Ready, Natalie?” My dad says when I meet him in the living room. My dad is dressed more casually in genes and a t-shirt. Since he is coming more to provide back-up, it doesn’t matter what impression he gives Connor. 

“I’m ready,” I say as I grab my purse and head towards the door calling out a quick goodbye to my mom. 

“Good luck, baby girl! Call if you need anything!” 

When we are in the car, my dad hesitates before starting the vehicle. 

“You know that you could stay in the spare bedroom here, right? We might not have much space, but we would be delighted to have you live with us again,” my dad says with a look of concern plastered across his face. 

“Dad, you know that I need to do this. You and mom deserve your space, and I need to get back on my own feet.” Dad takes my words with a quick stoic nod before pulling out of the driveway. 

The drive to Connor’s house takes only 10 minutes. We are also only 15 minutes away from my work which is the part that I am most excited about. It took me 30 minutes to get to work from my apartment, which after really long days, felt like a lifetime. 

When we pull up to the house, my dad and I take a moment to just stare at the cute home before us. Pictures were posted with the ad, but they did not do justice to the house. The front yard is perfectly groomed and somehow has green grass despite it being March in Colorado. The grass here usually doesn’t turn green until May. 

The cream and brown painting adorning the front of the house gives off a small cottage feel, but it is clear that it is larger than your typical cottage home. This house was meant to have a family with little kids living here. The whole neighborhood is perfect for kids. We drove past at least two parks and an elementary school. 

I look at the clock and see that it is 10:56 a.m. We are cutting it much closer than I am comfortable with for any important meeting. I grab my things and hope out of the car quickly. I hear my dad chuckle, but he gets out of the car as well. 

“You afraid he will go with someone else just because you aren’t exactly 5 minutes early?” his laughter is barely contained. My drive to be early to things is a long-standing joke amongst my parents. What can I say? I really really hate being late. I may overcorrect a bit, but no employer or teacher has ever complained. 

I shoot my dad a derisive look, making his laugh burst out, and continue up the cobblestone path embedded in the grass. 

I ring the doorbell and try not to fidget. From the other side of the door, I can hear the mumbling of voices and the shuffling of feet before the door swings open. 

The sight before me almost makes me do a double-take. Is this Connor? I wasn’t sure what to expect after our phone call, but I anticipated a man around my dad’s age. Instead, I am greeted by a man in his mid to late twenties with black hair, deep blue eyes, olive skin, and sharp cheekbones. He was on the skinny side, but that made the muscles of his arms more pronounced. Trying not to gawk at or let myself thoroughly check out the surprisingly attractive man in front of me, I swallow and force myself to focus.

“Are you Connor Callahan?” I ask tentatively. 

“Yes, I am. Are you Natalie Wilson?” a slight smile graces his face. Not letting myself focus on what that smile does to his face, I try to focus on the conversation.

“Yup. Yes, that is me. I love the house—at least the outside. Seriously, the pictures did not do it justice-” I bite my tongue to prevent further rambling and inhale deeply. A laugh escapes from Connor. He seems almost as surprised by it as I do. 

His laugh is infectious, but my embarrassment is a bit overpowering at the moment. I am not usually a rambler, tending towards quiet when I am nervous. 

From my left, a throat is cleared, and I nearly jump at the sound. I had completely forgotten about my dad standing right next to me. Just fantastic. 

“Right. This is my dad, Christopher.” I make sure to keep my tone as light as I can as I say this. Connor has stopped laughing, but now he wears a full smile. My dad gives a slight nod of his head in greeting but looks overall unimpressed.

I think that I am blushing. I almost pat my cheeks to check but decide that it would be best not to make this even more awkward. 

“Are you going to keep laughing at the poor girl, or are you going to let her in?” A melodic female voice from deeper in the house asks. 

I am surprised to feel my heart sink a little at the sound of the female voice. I am not sure if it is because, of course, this man has a girlfriend or that this may turn into some weird third wheel situation. I choose to analyze that later. 

Connor’s smile slips, and he moves aside to let us in. 

“Sorry, yes. Come on in.”