NO NEED FOR AN APOLOGY
One thing that was true of Avery's city was this: it never slept. Early morning. Late night. Middle of the afternoon. There was always noise. People speaking in various languages. Klaxons blaring in the air. It was a venerable nexus of different cultures, peoples, and ideals. People were both angry and friendly. It was Monday, the start of a new week, and the first for Avery without his position at Warren & Hines. When he finally awoke to the be greeted by the smiling sun, a measure of tranquility overtook him. Choosing to sleep on the couch rather than the bedroom (to avoid all the reminders of Jenna), he got dressed and completed an eight-mile run. Just because he was no longer dating anyone did not mean he could simply let himself go. He aimed for a steady six-miles-an-hour pace, for he was no in hurry to get anywhere. The morning and the day were his, and it was the beginning of something fresh and different. Whether it would be better than what already was, remained to be seen.
Avery spent Sunday alone, unburdened and uninterrupted, which gave him an opportunity to catch up on his sleep. After finishing his run and showering, Avery decided to heed Alicia's advice and shave. Unfortunately, all he had readily available to use was a straight blade, a recent Christmas gift from Jenna. Avery consistently complained about the price of razor cartridges, so Jenna believed a single straight blade would be a good investment, for a quality straight blade could maintain its sharp edge for up to thirty years. His facial hair grew so quickly, Avery often skipped the five o'clock shadow and went straight to full beard. Using the last of his shave soap, he made a thick, white lather in a wooden bowl. After coating his face, the straight blade did its job of making him more presentable. Twenty minutes later, he had cleared the growth of hair on his cheeks to just a thin goatee around his mouth. Everyone, save for Avery's mother, thought Avery more attractive with facial hair, and a goatee was the favorite style.
Beginning the day much differently than he had in recent mornings, he ate a very small breakfast of toast, grapefruit, blackberries, and chocolate milk. As he ate, he made a to-do list: wash the dishes, clean the linens, and vacuum the carpet. After finishing his meal, he noticed that the roses on the dining table were thriving once again. Their pedals looked lush and healthy. All they needed was a little love. After clearing away the table, he started on his list with the linens, racing down the hallway to the laundry room. It was a small, square room containing two high-efficiency washers and two dryers. There was also a folding table, though it was about the size of a tray table on an aircraft. Much too small to be of use for bedsheets or blankets. When the washers displayed the remaining time for their cycle, Avery set an alarm on his phone. Venturing back into his apartment, he set his sights on the dishes, which had a moldy smell emanating from them. In ten minutes' time, the sink was cleared and the dishwasher was stuffed and running.
Before he pulled committed to vacuuming, he went out onto the balcony, which was the only neglected place of his apartment. All the empty beers cans and bottles from the weekend's festivities kept him company. As with the dishes, only ten minutes passed before the balcony was cleared. All that was left was the vacuuming. Preparing for a big mess, Avery dressed lazily, wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of black Under Armour gym pants. As Avery shuffled through an overstuffed closet, where the vacuum components were situated, a loud buzz sounded near his left ear. It was the intercom, announcing that a guest was there to visit. His first thought regarding the identity of his guest was Janelle. That was unlikely, as Janelle's work hours overlapped with the current time of day. A second consideration was Jenna, which was also unlikely as, unless something happened to it, Jenna owned a transponder to access the building. A third possibility, easily the least prospective visitor, was his stepsister Alicia.
"Who is it?"
"It's Erin," the voice flatly stated. Avery's body was engulfed in flames as rage overtook him. Why was she bothering him at his home? There was nothing left for him to say, believing he had made his position evident that he no longer wanted to have any kind of relationship with her. Especially in present circumstances, as their interactions had ultimately cost him his job.
"What do you want, Erin?"
"May I please come up and speak with you?" As before, her voice was flat. Almost mechanical.
"Whatever it is you want to say, you can say it over the intercom."
"I'm not doing this over the intercom or the phone, or in any other manner. I want to stand in front of you and have this conversation. Now, buzz me in and let's talk," she argued.
He considered ignoring her and waited for what seemed like an eternity before pressing the button to send the signal to the front door to unlock it. Hearing the buzzing sound, alerting her that the door was unlocked, Erin walked into the building and quickly raced to his apartment. Following four weak knocks on the door, Avery walked over to the door and unlocked it, then took a few steps back and shouted to her that it was open. Hearing him speak, she walked into the apartment and locked the doorknob behind her. Her face exuded the appearance of despair. Her outfit, contrarily, was vivid and warm. She wore a mustard yellow dress that extended to her knees, dark brown leggings, and a thin, black leather jacket. Her royal locks were pulled back in a majestic ponytail. Her nails were neatly groomed and painted black. Her lovely feet were covered by black wedges, affording her an extra inch of height. Before the two of them could begin their conversation, Avery's alarm sounded. The laundry was ready to be dried.
"What do you want?" Avery demanded.
"I wanted to apologize to you, face to face. I went into the office this morning to turn in my keys and badge, and I was told by Mr. Warren that you put in your resignation. I know it's because of me."
"You're damn right it's because of you. Warren & Hines was my dream job, and I just lost it!"
"I know. I know. I didn't mean to say what I said. I swear I didn't. Mr. Warren kept pressing me for the reason why I was leaving, and I just answered without thinking it through," she pleaded, holding her hands at the level of her shoulders to appear disarming.
"I never touched you without you wanting me to, Erin," he said, pointing his index finger at her.
"I'm sorry. I know you're angry. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you," she offered, taking a single step towards him. Noticing her actions, Avery responded by stepping away from her.
"There's nothing you can do, Erin. Even if you explained to Mr. Warren what really happened, I doubt he would let me come back."
"I have to do something, Avery. Do you need any money? I have some saved. If you want, I'll give you everything I have until you find another job."
"It's okay. I got the standard severance, so I don't need money for the time being."
"I was worried you wouldn't be eligible to receive it," she said sadly, taking another step towards him. Avery turned his head away from Erin. Noticing his movement, she lowered her arms, clasped her hands together, and held them in front of her body.
"What do I have to do to fix this?" She asked earnestly.
