The Capital City pulsed with excitement.
I wasn’t immune to the thrill of that charm.
Yet a gnawing ache consumed me. I didn’t understand what it was for several days until the morning I woke up and knew I was completely alone for the first time in my life.
I wasn’t simply alone. I was lonely.
That was the moment I realized I couldn’t continue navigating this Capital City like a frightened rabbit. I had to learn about this new home of mine, so I could become a part of it.
On that day, I spent the afternoon at a café around the corner from the Avenue of the Theaters.
It was my favorite because I was the most comfortable there. This was the café I came to in the dark, early hours of morning when I arrived, after a long day and night riding in the coach carriage.
At the time, I thought they had just opened, and marveled at the gaiety and raucous flamboyance of the people there, especially so early in the morning. But this café had been open through the night, and closed during the breakfast hours before the business of the day was to start.
The people there had been up all night. I didn’t recognize them for what they were that first morning - the actors, the acrobats, the singers, and musicians, as well as the gamblers, brothel harlots, courtesans, and their gentlemanly escorts.
Since this was the first place I had landed, I went there the most often when I wanted to get out of my apartment for the refreshment of tea and muffins or finger sandwiches.
The waiters who worked there recognized me every time I came in. Although they watched me like everybody else did, their demeanors were pleasant and they never loomed over me.
That café soothed my nerves.
On that afternoon, I took a table in a corner where I would have an excellent view of the other patrons, and spent a relaxed few hours watching the people who came and went.
Many of them glanced my way more than once. Most of them smiled in a friendly manner without being intrusive, and a few people even nodded to me. I finally had the courage to smile and nod back.
That was the first day I felt like I had taken some control over my life in this foreign place that was the Capital of my country. I felt lighter when I came home to my empty apartment.
That was the first day I met my neighbor across the hall.
As I came up the steps, she was turning the key in her lock. The click echoed down the staircase. To my surprise, rather than starting her descent, she waited until I reached the landing.
Magnetism emanated from her. Her presence grew stronger with each step I took until I reached her.
From her dress, I could tell she was going out for a magnificent evening. My neighbor had the longest waist I’d ever seen, and her dress showed her willowy lines to advantage. Her gown was a shiny, deep forest green, fitted through the torso with skirts flaring from her hips. Unlike the other women I had seen in the Capital City, she wore no hat and her warm brown hair was arranged in a crown around her head.
The simple style suited her well.
The coif drew attention to her face, which was more handsome than beautiful with her square jaw, straight mouth, and aquiline nose. Her gaze was startling. Colored with swirls of green and brown, her eyes seemed rectangular directly beneath her straight brows.
Her appearance surprised me because I knew she was a courtesan. Although attractive, I had expected somebody more voluptuous and sinful-looking, like the blonde woman who lived in the apartment below mine.
“Hello there,” she said. “So you’re my new neighbor.”
“Salute,” I replied in a soft voice, suddenly shy and awkward.
“I’m Carla,” she said, removing one of her gloves to shake my hand.
The naked palm held out to me made me look down. Carla appeared to be in her mid-twenties, and her natural self-assurance intimidated the life out of me. I could scarcely bring myself to take her hand.
“Uh no,” she said, shifting her palm to grip mine. “A firm clasp is much more agreeable when meeting somebody new. What’s your name?”
I couldn’t say anything.
I had never been one to embarrass easily, but Carla set me off balance. My face was so hot I knew my cheeks had to be bright red. Carla might have been used to discomposing people when they met her. She didn’t seem offended, or even surprised. If anything, her long thin mouth turned up slightly at the corners.
“So do you have a name?”
“I…I don’t know.”
I was mortified at my lack of composure. Although I’d never met a woman like my new neighbor, she was only being friendly and I was acting like an ass. Desperate to escape, I fumbled with my keys, and was suddenly unable to discern which key would fit my apartment door.
Carla drew her brows close and cocked her head to one side. Her unwavering regard unnerved me to no end. I almost believed she could see right through me.
“You don’t know if you have a name? Or you have a name and don’t want to tell me? I hope it’s not the latter because that weasel of a con artist beneath me is bad enough. I would hate to have an unlikeable neighbor across the hall.”
“Of course not,” I mumbled. “My name’s Addie.”
“Addie?!” she exclaimed. “Oh, that name won’t do around here. You need a new one.”
At that moment, I would have given anything for the floor to open up and swallow me.
In my first interaction in this big city, I knew I was completely out of my depth in the face of this unflappable woman.
I couldn’t bear another second of embarrassment. I was frantic to get inside my apartment. But my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t get the key in the lock.
Carla took the keys from my hand, fitted the key in the right lock, and the click sounded so loud I jumped when my door opened.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
“You’re welcome,” Carla replied, her expression amused. “Do you mind if I call you ‘dearie’ until you figure out who you are?”
I shook my head.
“I suppose that’s fine,” I muttered.
“In that case, welcome to your new life, dearie.”
Carla held up two fingers to her brow in a playful salute, and made a kissing sound with her lips.
“I’m sure you’ll have some fun once you find your place here.”
