The Lemon House

I’m not sure if you know the story of the day we met, but it was a series of unfortunate events before I came to stay with you. Hours before we’d meet, I was woken up by the sound of construction outside my window after a late night texting my brother about giving up on life. I’d abruptly left my temporary home of six months and after staying in a hotel for a few weeks I ended up at an Airbnb with a strict host. I only had accommodations for one night and no money to extend my reservation. I tried to bargain with my host but she was determined on her nightly rate, and sarcastically advised me to checkout in the morning. I looked through my phone to find another place to stay, and came across your listing on AirBnb. It was an affordable option and your photo radiated warmth through the phone. Although I was skeptical after my experience with my previous host, I knew I had to make a decision quickly so I went ahead and booked a couple nights with you. I needed to arrive soon since the host had me checkout in the morning, so I contacted you to see if you would allow me an early check in. When I heard your voice I knew you were a sweet soul and I felt like I was moving in the right direction. You were so thoughtful to try and rearrange your day to make sure I had access to your home, even trying your best to leave work early to make sure you could get to the house before me to get the room prepared. I got off the call feeling relieved, knowing I had somewhere to go. I’d spent the last money I had on your reservation, with only enough for food, so I packed my suitcase and headed to the bus stop to get to your neighborhood. As I lugged my suitcase down the street it began to shower, and I started to feel hopeless again. I silently asked God to stand with me and keep my spirits high, but I couldn’t pretend I was okay any longer. I arrived to the bus stop and waited as the rain fell steadily, getting heavier with every minute while I listened to music to keep me calm. I obsessively checked my phone to see what time the bus would arrive, but it never showed up. After about twenty minutes I felt it would never come, and I began to breakdown in tears from an overflow of emotion. I watched as cars passed me, and contemplated on calling an Uber to get me to your address knowing I’d have to ration the food I had if I did. I held out a bit longer, and it finally came around the corner. The bus driver gave me an odd look as I lifted my hefty suitcase onto the platform. I looked back at her and thanked her, just happy she’d arrived. While riding I fantasized what it would be like staying with you. I imagined you’d have a cranky husband who would sit in a chair and watch my every move, or that I would get up to you making breakfast early in the morning. My mind kept racing, trying to prepare itself for a new environment, until I finally reached the bus stop near your house. When I got off the bus, the first thing I saw was my old elementary school, Grimes. It was one of the first schools I went to before my mother left the southeast side of Houston. I was flooded with nostalgia seeing the old basketball court in front of the school. It used to feel so invigorating every time my mom would drive by, and I remembered sunny days in the car after school when she would pick me up. I use to imagine the court as an NBA stadium, It seemed so vibrant and large back then and beaming with energy. My nostalgic trip quickly came to an end as clouds formed above and it began to shower, casting a cold hue onto the court. I walked down your street trying to roll my suitcase against the cracked pavement, while dogs greeted me with a ferocious bark as I passed each backyard in the neighborhood. I made it to your street and the rain began to pour down as I looked for your house. I kept treading through as water soaked my clothes and luggage, finally reaching a bright yellow home in the color of a lemon. I walked up the ramp, seeing that I arrived twenty minutes before you said you’d be home and patiently waited for you under the canopy, watching the rain as it drummed on the patio chairs. A man pulled up and I thought he was your husband and I prepared myself for a stiff introduction. He ended up being one of your tenants and made me feel right at home, offering one of your other rooms to wait in until you got off of work. Exhausted, I changed out of my wet clothes and napped in a chair until you arrived. You came into the room full of energy in a pint sized package and got me settled into the house, showing me where everything was located and offering your personal number in case I needed anything. I immediately sensed your nurturing qualities and felt like I would be okay for the time being and headed back to sleep.

Over the week, I began to recognize how passionate you were about your hosting responsibilities. You made sure to keep everything stocked and dropped off little treats with every visit. Your energy reminded me of my grandmother when she was at her best, and I began to grow fond of you, wanting to relieve any tasks you had around the house. You were always steps ahead and had everything already being taken care of. After a few days, I felt good about extending my stay after you made me feel welcome and I booked the room for another week. I started to feel more at home and began relaxing in other parts of the house, trying to make myself at home, but I still felt like I’d failed because I wasn’t in my own place. I stayed in my room as the week went by, slowly entering back into a mild depression. One day, you came by the house to drop off some supplies, heading back out the door to get home after work. I was able to greet you before you made it back to your car and you reminded me how beautiful it was outside that day after a weekend of rain. I looked at the sunlight trying to penetrate the blinds, and peeked out the window of my dark room. It was a gorgeous day, but I hissed at it and remained in the dim house getting back on my phone and scrolling aimlessly across the web to make time go by. Later that day, I kept thinking about you mentioning the beautiful weather and I decided to take a walk to the store. When I walked outside I immediately felt a sense of wonder and freedom from my isolation. I returned back to the house feeling decompressed, like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. After that day, I continued to try and get some sunlight to keep my mood boosted, often going outside to meditate and calm my mind. I decided this time to extend my stay with you for the time being and move in since I would be here for a while. You quickly put me to work around the house, and I happily obliged, often getting nostalgic about times with my grandmother who didn’t hesitate to delegate household chores to me and my siblings. I never minded helping you, always looking forward to learning some new handyman skill. I’m not sure if you feel the same way, but I feel like I’ve created a bond with you because it feels good to have a new friend. Your positivity radiates through your ability to empathize with your tenants, and understand hardships. Character like that is rare to find these days, or maybe I’ve just been looking in the wrong places. We’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I feel like your a family member I’ve known forever. It’s truly magical that your name is Dorothy because you make me feel like I’m home. I feel like I’m headed in the right direction, even though I’m not quite sure where I’m going. It means so much to me that you’ve allowed me some foundation to stand on, because that’s all I need right now is a little stability. I hope that we can continue this friendship and I can grow from my time here with you. You may just be an angel in disguise and right now I need a pair of wings. Thank you for everything so far!