As You Like It: Movin’ on Up

When Lisa and Matt told us that they were looking for an apartment I was thrilled. Lisa warned us that it would take a while to find a livable place for a reasonable price in Cambridge, but I thought, “How hard could it be?” Surely they would come up with something. They were looking during the spring, which meant that the college crowd wouldn’t be around to snatch everything in sight. I should have known that finding an apartment in Cambridge is no problem only for people with large amounts of discretional income. For two twenty-somethings just starting out, the words Cambridge and reasonable rent didn’t belong in the same sentence.

Our first apartment in Woburn was, in retrospect, too good to be true. Woburn was no Cambridge, so reasonable rents were the norm. The place may not have been fancy, but it was immaculate, nicely landscaped and even had a pool. The majority of tenants were young couples like us, so the summer pool parties were relaxed and the impromptu ’78 blizzard party ran all night and into the following day. The guys even formed a softball team bankrolled by Valet Cleaners. I spent many of my evenings sitting on the bleachers cheering them on.

We were a mile away from the greens of Lexington and the shops of Burlington Mall and close to Route 2. There was even a bus that ran fairly regularly for those of us who didn’t have driver’s licenses yet. It was the perfect place for a young couple just starting out.

For the next few weeks, Lisa regaled us with stories of the search. Now, you have to understand that Matt is the most relaxed, calm, laid-back person it is my good fortune to know, aside from Steve. Nothing riles him — he takes most things in stride. Lisa, however, personality wise is unfortunately like her mother. We get emotional, excited, we get upset, and of course, we worry — a lot. So when the two of them viewed potential apartments their reactions were on opposite sides of the scale.

Lisa would see the dirt, the exposed electrical wiring, the scurrying mice, the mold, the basement dankness, the dark hole. Matt would look at it all with his calm gaze and pronounce it acceptable, whereupon Lisa would scream, “No, no it is not acceptable! And they would leave, Lisa in a huff, Matt reluctantly. Lisa would tell us these stories, trying to laugh them off, but she was beginning to despair. And to tell the truth, so was I. Their place had to be accessible to public transportation, so I did not suggest that they try looking in Woburn.

Then one day Steve and I received a joyous email — success! They had found a nice, affordable place in Somerville. They signed the lease and the fun began.

Their previous living arrangements with roommates had left them with a few pieces of furniture, but they would have to shop for all the things they had never needed before. I told Lisa to begin by rummaging through the apartment store I seem to have accumulated in the attic, and to take anything she could use. But what she was most excited about was the chance to shop for things that she had always wanted — a couch, linens and bedspreads, glassware — all the things that Lisa and I love to look at in the window of places like Crate and Barrel but end up buying at IKEA. And IKEA is where they went.

To give Matt credit, he was a lot more supportive of Lisa’s shopping than Steve ever was of mine. Steve hates shopping of any kind. The only times he’s done it with any equanimity was when we had to buy cars or houses. Since he’s been able to order off the internet, he has achieved non-shopping nirvana.

We had nothing when we moved into our first apartment. I refused to allow him to bring his Star Trek chair, the naugahyde, (Do you remember naugahyde?! Even spell-check has no idea what to make of this word) duct-taped monstrosity that sat opposite his old TV set. I was also less than enamored of the ancient pieces that his mom had bequeathed him. The only furniture that we took with us was a rocking chair that his parents had bought him after shlepping him on an antiquing trip when he was a kid. The chair, I loved. I rocked my babies in that chair.

After a couple of days of shopping with Mr. Cheerful, we had a huge fight. Afterwards Steve agreed to improve his attitude toward all the initial household purchasing. He’s been great for all of our 35 years of marriage, especially since I’ve done all the shopping. So compared to Steve, Matt was an angel. But I think an entire day of IKEA unhinged him — he hasn’t seemed the same since. But Lisa’s very understanding. She knows that only her mother will appreciate the new bedspread she bought that matches the dishes and the curtains and even the pots and pans. I’m so there for her.

In the end they didn’t take much from the attic. The one thing that Lisa wanted to take was something it was my pleasure to give her — the old rocking chair. And if she finds herself rocking in it late at night, she might just hear whispers of babies and their mother singing them soft lullabies.

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Posted by Joan Florek Schottenfeld on Jul 27 2011. Filed under As You Like It, Featured Content, Opinion. Both comments and pings are currently closed.