A Warm Chill in the Air

When I began looking for apartments, back in June, I was aware that I had begun my search too early. I wasn’t leaving my previous aparment until August 1st and all of the apartments I was calling about were being rented for July 1st, or in some cases, June 15th. Still, I couldn’t help looking and became obsessed with the Craigslist apartment listings.

I was going to stay in Davis Square. That is the one thing of which I was certain. I had entertained the idea of moving to North Cambridge, as well. Porter Square is a very lovely part of town.

Here and there, I thought ever-so-briefly about Malden but only because I was thinking that it would be a return to my roots, back to the beginning, to a time before I even knew what boys were. I really never thought I would end up moving there, but I opened up my apartment search anyway.

I sat at my desk and ran search after search for hours each day. I would search, find nothing, and search again ten minutes later even though I knew that nothing new would turn up. During one of those “ten-minute” obsessive apartment searches and quite on a whim, I searched Malden and an apartment listing that hadn’t been there ten minutes before, was suddenly there, sporting a photo of the most beautiful kitchen I had ever seen. From the moment I saw that picture, I knew I had to live there. I knew that apartment had to be mine.

I called the number in the ad and spoke to the owner of the house. She asked why I was moving and I told her that I had lost my husband in January and that I felt it was time for me to move out of the apartment we shared together. Although she had never met me, she agreed.

We talked more about the apartment. This woman had such a nice, warm feel about her. I liked her instantly. I told her that I was interested in seeing the place and then voiced my worry that she was probably looking to rent it for July. Without missing a beat, she told me that wasn’t necessarily true and that she would much rather have the right person move in. My heart soared.

A few days later I came to see the place and fell lin love with it, filled out an application and waited for her to check all of my references. She called me a few days later and after we spoke a bit, she said to come by to sign the lease. I was elated.

When I got there, we sat in the yard at a picnic table. She and her husband went over the lease with me. She mentioned that she had not yet gotten in touch with my bank to verify my accounts and then said, “I don’t care though. I want you.” We seemed to bond instantly as though we had known each other already. She poured me a glass of wine and we toasted my signing of the lease. From the moment I met this couple, I felt very welcome and very protected. Before I even knew what was happening, I had moved to Malden.

During that week, I could not help feeling as though I had been guided to that particular apartment. It all happened so fast and so neatly that I really believed that Chris had a hand in leading me there. This apartment has everything I could ever want, but I wasn’t able to think clearly enough at the time to really search for what I needed. Still, I found it. How did that happen?
Despite my comfort here, there is always an adjustment period when getting used to living in someone else’s home. For the past few days, I have found myself wondering if my landlord would or has ever come into my apartment when I’m not home. Something happened that made me wonder. I then began to wonder how I would ever find out if that ever happened.

Yesterday morning, Chris’ aunt sent me an e-mail which, among other things, contained the following:

"Question:  is your landlord's name XXXXX?  If so, I am friends with someone who lived in your apartment once upon a time."

Isn’t that chilling? What are the chances of THAT happening? There’s my way of finding out what type of people XXXXX and his wife are.

So, in short, Chris’ aunt has a friend who lived in the very apartment I feel I was guided toward by Chris.

I believe he is around me, protecting me. I believe again.