When You Don't See Me by Timothy James Beck Page A

steam room.”
    â€œAt least I hang up my towels.”
    â€œAt least I don’t hang my panties to dry over the curtain rod.”
    â€œWhere do you dry your panties, Roberto?”
    â€œShut up.”
    Roberto slammed the bathroom door behind him. I finally got out of bed just as Morgan turned her wrath on Kendra.
    â€œIs that my cereal you’re eating?”
    I pulled back the sheet in my doorway and saw Kendra perched on a stack of boxes in the corner of the kitchen. She sat cross-legged, a bowl of cereal in one hand, a spoon poised midair between the bowl and her mouth, looking guilty as sin. Through a mouthful of cereal she mumbled, “No.”
    Morgan, her back to me, folded her arms and said, “It is. Why are you eating my cereal? I clearly labeled everything that’s mine.”
    â€œIt’s mine,” Kendra insisted.
    Morgan opened a cupboard and pulled out a Raisin Bran box. She shook it for dramatic effect and said, “This is your cereal. The one with three flakes and a raisin inside.”
    â€œSounds like our apartment,” Roberto yelled from the bathroom.
    Morgan ignored him and said, “Mine was practically new, but now it’s half-full.”
    â€œOr it’s half empty,” I said, moving past her to make toast. “Depending on your worldview.”
    â€œStay out of this,” Morgan demanded.
    â€œDon’t mind me. I’m just waiting for my toast. Carry on with your interrogation.” Morgan sneered at me and over her shoulder, I could see Kendra cringe. I added, “Do you have time for this? Don’t you have to be at work soon?”
    â€œI can manage my schedule on my own, thank you,” Morgan said. She turned to Kendra, glanced at the clock on the wall, then made a noise of exasperation as she went into her bedroom, obviously giving up.
    â€œThanks,” Kendra whispered.
    â€œDon’t thank me. I just want peace and quiet. I don’t know why I have to wake up to this insanity every day.” My toast popped up and I caught it before it hit the counter. Even though I bleached it daily, I knew the counter was a roach playground in the middle of the night. When Kendra hopped from the boxes to the floor, I pointed at them and said, “I thought you guys were going to find a place for all your crap.”
    Kendra rinsed her bowl in the sink and replied, “We will.”
    â€œThat’s what you said last week.”
    â€œMost of it’s Morgan’s. You try getting her to do anything.”
    â€œYou got me there.”
    Roberto passed through on his way to our room, a towel barely wrapped around his waist. “Yo.”
    â€œYo,” I replied to his retreating backside.
    Kendra blushed, stammered something about it being her turn, and scampered into the bathroom. I took my tea and toast to the living room, the best place to avoid the others’ morning routines.
    Roberto poked his head into the room, tossed my cell to me, and said, “Your phone just vibrated. I think you have a message.” While I listened to my messages, I heard the front door slam. A few minutes later, as I was dialing, it slammed again. Kendra meandered into the room and sank to the floor in front of me. She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off by holding up my hand.
    â€œBenny, it’s Nick. I got your message. I’m sorry, but Chelsea? I don’t think I can—”
    â€œWhat do you mean? Nick, I need you. Deshaun is sick. He covered for you when you were out sick. Besides, weren’t you the one who was begging me for more hours?”
    â€œI wouldn’t say I was begging,” I protested.
    â€œI’m really in a bind, Nick,” Benny whined. “I know you don’t like to work below Fifty-seventh Street, but there’s literally nobody else who can do this job. Anyway, the client’s a neat freak. You’ll hardly have to do anything. A little dusting, that’s