Arranged - Hanavae and Ms. Carmine

Ms. Carmine is Hana's nosey neighbor in Arranged. During my editing process, I felt this scene dragged the narrative a bit. But I do love the crotchety old woman, so I decided to add it here to the Secret Scenes blog!

As I got out of my car in front of my apartment, I sighed at the sight of Ms. Carmine sweeping her porch. Walking faster, I tugged my hood up and kept my head down, trying to avoid her gaze.

“Hanavae?” I paused at the sound of her voice, which was filled with doubt. Like it would be anyone else walking up the sidewalk to our apartments.

“Oh, hello, Ms. Carmine,” I said, pretending I’d only just seen her. I waved, but didn’t move any closer to the part of the sidewalk that led to her porch. She wore a faded floral housecoat, her gray hair cropped close to her chin. Her blue eyes had dulled a bit in the last year. “How are you today?”

“I will be better when fall ends. These leaves, always all over my porch. It’s terrible.” She removed the offending leaves from the concrete with her broom. I watched as they floated onto my side of the path and forced another smile.

“Yes, well, they have a certain beauty to them too, don’t you think?” I offered as I took two steps toward my door. Personally, I loved fall. Not only was it the season my birthday was in, but I also enjoyed the changing colors of the leaves. All the bright yellows and burnt oranges.

“Not really,” she grumbled. “And take that hood off. You shouldn’t walk around with it up and invite trouble.” I gritted my teeth but pulled my hood down. “What’s that in your hair? What have you got all over you?” She squinted in my direction, taking in the colored powder covering my hair and neck.

“I went on a color run for my birthday.” My smile came easier as I thought about how much fun it was, and the fact the annoying old woman wouldn’t leave her porch to inspect me further. She rarely left her “safe space” as she called it. But once or twice she’d surprised me by stepping off the concrete to get closer. 

I ventured two more steps. Five more and I’d be at my door.

“Color run? I think my great-nephew did one of those. Should you do that at your age?” Apparently Ms. Carmine gave zero fucks in that moment. Twice she’d suggested my very normal behavior was suspect, and then she went right for the heart.

If she didn’t care, then neither would I. “It’s fun for all ages,” I said, no longer trying to hide my steps to my door. “Anyway, I have lunch with my family soon and I have to shower. Have a good day, Ms. Carmine!”

“You sure need a shower, you look-” I shut my door behind me before she could finish her sentence. Locking it, I walked into my kitchen and dropped my things on the counter. The sooner I could move, the better.

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Have you ever had a difficult neighbor? My previous apartment was on the bottom floor, and there was constant thumping and bumping from my upstairs neighbors. They were so kind though, I'd just grit my teeth and deal with it. That's apartment living for you. My current apartment is on the second and third floor of my building, and my girls are dancers. I feel bad for my neighbor below, but our kids get along (and she's really nice); I hope that's enough. I limit the hours they dance in the livingroom, and I hope that helps too!