Panting heavily, Emeline stopped to lean against the railing to catch her breath. She wanted to curse, but there was not enough air in her lungs for that. It had been Albert’s idea to get the apartment on the top floor. He had persuaded her easily by promising to carry all the groceries up for them and talked enthusiastically about the free exercise aspect of it. All had been well for the first six months, except that Albert had not factored in one growing problem. Emeline was pregnant. Being their first, apparently, she had also grossly underestimated the taxing strain the baby weight would cause on her body. Albert couldn’t carry her and today it felt like Emeline could not carry her own weight either.
She closed her eyes just before a bead of sweat dripped slowly over her right eye. Her clothes clung to her in the stifling stairwell. Gulping down her frustration, she had to mentally force herself to start climbing again. Emeline knew if she stayed in that moment any longer, her knees would buckle and she would be stuck. For the past three days, she had told Albert that it was the last time she would be able to make that trip up, and every time he would laugh, thinking she was only joking. It seemed this was going to be it, though, as a shooting pain brought her to an immediate halt. Doubling over, she cried out like a wounded animal. She wanted to kick herself because she had foolishly left her phone upstairs in the apartment, forgetting momentarily that she was almost six months pregnant and should know better.
“Are you okay?”
A young, twenty-something, pretty woman wearing a bright pink workout outfit had popped her head out into the stairwell. She was holding a small towel in one hand and one of her earbuds in the other. Emeline choked down her embarrassment as she tried to straighten out her back. She must look like a gross, sweaty cow to this slender, fit lady. She waved her hand, trying to dismiss her need for help, and she had almost pulled it off, too, when suddenly another sharp pain hit her square in her lower abdomen, completely blowing her cover. The workout lady rushed to Emeline’s side and helped to get her to a middle platform.
“Should I call you an ambulance?”
“No, I’m not in labor. At least, I don’t think so. My child is doing acrobatics in my stomach these days. It makes it harder to concentrate on the stairs.”
“Where’s your phone? At least call your husband or partner.”
Emeline started climbing the steps. Each one she took was painful, but now she had another motivation to make it—she did not care for fake, small talk with gorgeous people who looked like models. She plastered the most authentic smile on her face that she could muster and turned to hurry up the stairs. She had only gone two steps when she felt the woman’s arm slip under and around hers. It appeared Emeline was not getting rid of this lady anytime soon. Without speaking, the two women made their way up the staircase at a tortoise’s slow pace.
“My name’s Jolie, by the way. What’s yours?”
“Eme…line.”
It took everything just to say her own name. Emeline was getting close to being out of breath again. She wished Jolie would give up trying to be helpful and leave her alone. This climb was torturous enough—she definitely did not need a front-row spectator.
“Emeline! That is such a pretty name. My cousin’s friend’s sister is named Emeline. Who would have thought? Such a small world. Have you lived here long, Emeline?”
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Emeline could only nod her head as she took deep breaths and long exhales. It was probably good practice for when she actually did go into labor, but she did not see it that way. The only thing she could see was the impossible number of stairs she had left to climb and the annoying bright pink ray of sunshine babbling on nonstop beside her. At first, she tried to tune Jolie out, but after a minute, she found herself lost in her tale about how she had accidentally applied for an apartment in this building when she actually had wanted one a couple of blocks down. It was quite incredulous to Emeline how Jolie made it through life with the monster mistakes she so willingly and unfazedly committed frequently.
“Well, we’re here. Can I do anything else for you?”
Emeline stared and blinked a few times. She could not believe she was standing at the top of the stairwell outside her apartment door. She had been so captivated by Jolie’s story that the time had flown right by, and she hardly even noticed her pain as they walked together. Emeline opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. She shook her head no. Jolie shrugged, smiled, and then waved as she began to descend back down the stairs. A flush of pink reddened Emeline’s cheeks as she realized that Jolie did not live on the top floor. She had sacrificed her time to help her, and all she could do was grumble and judge her. A wave of guilt crashed over her.
“Um, Jolie? Wait, Jolie!”
Emeline heard the echo of footsteps stop and then reverse back up the stairs. Not long after, the gorgeous blonde had emerged at the top of the stairwell. This time, instead of the pang of jealousy hitting Emeline in the face, it was a wave of relief and happiness.
“I’m sorry to make you come back up here, but I just wanted to say thank you. I…I honestly don’t know if I would have made it up those steps without you.”
“My pleasure. I like meeting new people and helping people is a great way to meet new people!”
Emeline smiled geninuely and felt her baby somersault inside her. This time, instead of feeling annoyance, she felt gratitude for the reminder that she was not alone. She would never be alone. She placed her hand over her growing bump and gently patted her precious gift from God.
“Well, I'd better get going. My exercise class is about to start. I teach spin every Tuesday and Thursday in the workout room. Holler if you need anything, Em!”
Emeline waved goodbye and smiled as she turned to open her door. She was about to go in when an urgent thought flooded her mind.
“Jolie?”
She did not say it loudly this time, as her confidence had begun to waver, and the fact that she was sure her new fit friend was probably already halfway back down the stairwell by now. Emeline shook her head, realizing she was too late and it was not meant to be. As she opened her front door and was about to step in, she heard a familiar voice calling up to her.
“Yeah? Emeline? Did you call me?”
“Oh, uh, yes! Hi Jolie. I, um, I just had one more quick thing to ask you.”
“Oh sure, what’s that?”
Emeline rocked back and forth on her heels a little. She hesitated slightly, as she was not one to ask anyone for help or anything, yet Jolie had been there for her even when she was not showing up for herself the way she would like. Despite her fear of rejection, Emeline heard the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“Same time and place tomorrow?”
There was silence for a moment. Emeline’s heartbeat quickened as she realized perhaps Jolie really did not intend to see her again. Perhaps the idea of them becoming friends was all an imaginative fantasy inside Emeline’s head. Her mind started spiraling over her mistake when Jolie’s lovely, reassuring voice floated up the stairwell, stopping the panic in its tracks.
“You bet! I was just checking my calendar. See you tomorrow, Emeline.”
“See you tomorrow, Jolie.”
. . .
I wrote this story because I wanted to show how two women in different life stages can meet and become friends. Going a little out of our way to do a kind act for another person can mean the world to someone else who may be struggling under visible and invisible weights. Be curious about others—even if they are different than you. Everyone needs help sometimes, and it can be fun to make a new friend in the process, too. :)
I’d love to hear your thoughts on my story in the comments. Which personality would you say you identify with more—quiet and private like Emeline, or outgoing like Jolie? And have you ever made a new friend in a surprising situation?
Please drop your thoughts and answers in the comments. As always, I am incredibly thankful for you taking the time to read my words! If you enjoyed my story, please consider subscribing or sharing to support me in my writing endeavors. Thank you!
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