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“I can’t stand moving! I’m sure it’s a ring Dante missed. Why can’t we just stay in the house?”

“We talked about this. We’ve been empty nesters for a while now. We don’t need the big house anymore. We might as well rent.”

“You talk like we’re moving into assisted living.”

“You act like we need assisted living. We’re just down-sizing.”

“Down-size this! Um…I meant that in general, not toward you…dear.”

“Mm hm,” she said, looking at him askance. “Here it is, apartment 1066. The young lady said the key is in the lockbox. Press 1412#.”

“Why isn’t she walking through the apartment with us?”

“Because I asked her if we could look by ourselves.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I know you, Mr. Grumpleupagus. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Look at this neighborhood! I don’t want to live here. It’s not a ‘home’ type of neighborhood.” 

“Every apartment here is a home; houses don’t make homes.

“Meh! We won’t have a yard anymore.”

“And you won’t have to mow a yard anymore. And I won’t have to hear you complain about mowing it anymore.”

“I don’t like the look, the style of the buildings. The shutters look awful; the color is horrible. Who designed this, Salvador Dali? I don’t like the doors. The doors look so…so…apartment-like, plain. They lack any personality, any style. No windows, just a peephole. This is a barracks, not a home!”

“There are plenty of grassy areas. Park benches are all around the common grounds. The trees are pretty. Those over there will be warm oranges, yellows, and reds in Fall; and those across the lawn will bloom with a subtle, sweet fragranced flower in Spring. The yellow ones I can’t remember the name, but you aways say how much you like the ‘scent of Spring,’ as you call it.”

“It reminds me of the good times.” He took a deep breath, slowly, then looked at nothing. “Back when the kids were young. Back when I still had a chance to be a good dad. Back when they were happy.” He paused and took another slow breath. “I was such a disappointment.” His voice trailed off during the last sentence; the word ‘disappointment’ hung heavy in the air, and in his heart. They were both silent in their reflections of times past for a few moments. His eyes started to tear up a little, but he swallowed, sniffed, and lifted his head again. “Don’t even get me started on having attached neighbors again. I hated living in apartments when we were younger!”

“Well, there’s less sonorous sex this time around. These neighbors will appreciate that.” She looked at him with a smirk and a slight twinkle in her eyes. “Let’s just go inside and give it a look, alright?”

He huffed his reply. She unlocked the door and opened it, neither one wanted to take the first step inside. Somehow it was more than a physical step; it was an emotional step, a giving in to the concept of life moving on and them moving forward along Life’s timeline. It was like giving in and giving up at the same time. They both realized that neither one was moving and decided to take the first step at pretty much the same moment. They chuckled a small, uncomfortable laugh and he stepped aside, motioning with his outstretched arm for her to go inside first. Chivalry would never die on his watch…dammit!

Once they were both inside, he shut the door behind them. “There’s no room for the bench. Where are we going to put the coat rack?” They both looked at an empty spot in the entry way where, in their house, the bench where they would sit while donning and doffing their shoes has been for almost thirty years. It was a nice piece of oak; lightly stained, roughed up on a couple corners and has obviously seen its share of years, dirty shoes, and butts. There were many memories of coming in from rain; snow; warm, dusty days, plopping down and taking off shoes and boots. Many memories of kids not sitting down and just kicking off their shoes, regardless of what flung off them and onto the bench and walls. Kids being kids. Those are the joys in life that are only joys when looking back at them; the ‘never know what you have until it’s gone’ type of memories. 

“You could build a small shelf and coat rack to hang on the wall.” The pitch at the end of the sentence made it sound more like a question than a statement.

“In what shed with what tools?” A little bitterness shone through in his tone. He immediately regretted the tone. “Sorry.”

“We are both giving up things. You know that. I will still love you even if you are not a ‘manly man’ making things from wood.” She grunted, cave man style. “Oh, look. A half bath as soon as we walk in the front door. That’ll be helpful for shopping.” She looked at him and smirked knowingly.

“I can’t help that Wal-Mart makes me shit!”  

She blurted out the laugh she had been trying to keep inside her, then changed the subject. “Look at the living room.”

“There’s not a lot of space. We won’t be able to move around much. How much are we getting rid of again?”

“Just the stuff we don’t need. We talked about this, too. Many times.”

“I don’t like the layout.”

“Suck it up, Buttercup.” He appreciated that she still gave him a hard time, that they could still haze each other lovingly. It was part of what made their relationship so fun, so strong.

He grumbled something under his breath. “Oh, good gravy! Look at the kitchen! Why is the dishwasher so far from the sink? Who designed this, an orangutan? And it’s so small! We’re going to need to take turns cooking!”

“I will miss dancing in the kitchen, but it might be fun bumping butts as we cook.” She smiled devilishly. Oh, she is such a good bad influence! He smiled devilishly back at her.

“Come on. Let’s keep looking. Where’s the laundry room?”

“Over here, I think.” He opened a door that looked like a closet door, those doors that look smaller than what you would want to walk through. “Yep. Stackable washer/dryer combo. Good grief. ‘Hey, let’s put the dryer on top of the washer!’ Once again, just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should do something! It’s like that fruity flavored beer. What the hell is that all about?”

“Come look at the bedroom. It’s a decent size.”

“Shhuh! There’ll be just enough room between the bed and the wall that I can feel my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night!”

“All three times.”

“You go more than I do!”

“You squeeze three kids out of your hoo-hoo and still pee like a teenager!”

“Well, you don’t have a prostate, so we’re even. Oh, look at the closet! Yay, a smaller 15% for my clothes.”

“You’ll be fine. Come see the patio area.”

“I’m going to miss the backyard. I’m going to miss your garden. And your flower bed. You’re going to miss your garden and your flowers. I should be able to provide these things, even in down-sizing. I should have been able to do so much more.” Again, his voice trailed off and he looked down, at nothing, seeing in his mind all of the things he could have done differently, could have provided better…in so many ways. “Meh! I’ve seen enough. Let’s go talk to the girl in the office.”

They closed the front door, locked it, and decided to give the key to the young lady instead of messing with the lock contraption hanging on the door handle. They walked arm in arm to the rental office, not slowly, but not quickly either. They walked in a subdued silence, a very loud silence filled with many memories and many regrets. She smiled contentedly. He allowed a few tears to slide down his cheeks. As they walked into the young lady’s office she stood from behind her desk, smiled, and asked, “Well?”

“It’s perfect! We’ll take it!” they said in unison.