your friendly neighborhood baker {ivy}

[MELISSA HEWITT]

Melissa was on a mission.

She had only met a handful of the residents of Jacobs Apartment Complex. She knew most of the people who lived on the same floor as she did and she was quite close to an older woman on the floor below. That was it, though. This was not okay. Melissa thought she ought to be on at least a first name basis with all of the residents. Her first idea had been to throw a party. Didn’t people love parties? In all the movies she’d seen, everybody seemed to love the loud music and store-bought snacks.

This is Melissa, though, and there was no way she was going to buy snacks. She was going to make all of the food to be served at this party. Then she thought that a party was a bit much. She’d never had any experience attending parties – much less throwing them. Once that idea was out the window, she decided to go with a much simpler approach. Why not go door-to-door and just introduce herself? That was easy. It wasn’t rude or over-the-top.

Well, it may have been a bit over-the-top as she was planning on bringing snacks with her. It was just that she had – once again – baked too many pastries. She had extra cookies and one too many loaves of bread. What better way to make room in her kitchen than to let others try the baked goods? It was an absolutely marvel idea, in her opinion. Melissa had decided to start with the top floor. She wasn’t sure why; it just seemed like it would work out best that way.

Of course, the elevator was broken. Melissa could swear it had been out of service for awhile now. Much too long, really. A plate of cookies covered by saran wrap, Melissa climbed up to the very top floor of the Jacobs Apartment Complex. She didn’t think much about which apartment she’d go to first; she just walked up to the nearest door, and knocked. Balancing the plate carefully on one hand, she straightened her sweater (inside and still cold: outrageous) and put on her friendliest smile.

outfit

[MELISSA HEWITT]

The woman that answers is blonde and she looks fairly young. Certainly not much older than 20, Melissa thinks, and then she pauses, wondering why she is trying to guess the woman’s age. Melissa can tell it is slightly warmer in the apartment already, just because it is so chilly in the hallway. Still smiling, Melissa holds up the plate, “Hello.

” She lowers her arms just a bit, for they have grown tired of carrying a plate of cookies up quite a few flights of stairs. “I’m Melissa. I live a couple of floors down.

[/color]”

Melissa wonders if the woman will let her in, or if the conversation will happen outside in the hall. “I just thought today how I don’t know very many people at all, living at Jacobs.[/color]” She glances down to the plate of cookies and is suddenly glad she saran wrapped them. There would have been cold by now, would have lost their gooey chocolaty-ness. “And I figured it never hurts to meet new people and what better way to meet new people than by bringing cookies?[/color]” Melissa smiles, more so hopeful now than anything else.

She supposes if this woman doesn’t want the friendship offering, there are plenty of other doors to knock on. The blonde seems nice, though, if not a bit… shy? Cautious? Melissa can understand that, living in New York can be scary and even she is sometimes not sure which neighbors to trust (like Laurence on the first floor). Perhaps the woman is just tired. It’s not like Melissa came early in the morning or late at night, but right around the time most people have just finished running their errands. For all she knows, the woman could be exhausted after taking care of a handful of responsibilities.

“Or any sort of baked goods, in my opinion,[/color]” she is adding before she can think much on it. Maybe it will help if her neighbors/possible new friends know that she bakes on a regular basis. “If you’re busy, I can…[/color]” Melissa lets the sentence end awkwardly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious (how strange that is, she thinks).
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[MELISSA HEWITT]

Melissa’s surprise was perhaps more obvious than Ivy’s. She took a step back, wondering where the child had come from. It had seemed so quiet in the apartment and here, suddenly, there was a girl clinging to the woman’s leg. The girl was very pretty and she quite looked like the woman Melissa had been speaking with. Ivy, as it were. And her daughter… Ashleigh. Ivy must have been quite young when she had Ashleigh, if Melissa assuming the woman was a bit older than 20 turned out to be true. Her heart went out to the woman for Melissa could imagine it must have been a difficult time. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Melissa responded to the invite in with a grateful nod. It was chilly in the hallway. Melissa was glad she wasn’t the only one to notice. Perhaps she ought to talk to maintenance. Stepping inside, Melissa glanced around noticing first off how the layout was different to her own room. The apartments seemed random like that sometimes, being all similar on one floor and completely different on another. It wasn’t that she was complaining. It made things quite interesting, actually. “They really should work on the heating for the building,” Melissa commented offhandedly, since it had been brought up for a moment. “People could get sick.” She’d always thought it was important for temperatures to be stable. Going from one extreme to another certainly did more harm than good.

Melissa waited patiently just inside the apartment, not wanting to look around as if she owned the place. That would be rude. Melissa smiled down at the girl. She was very cute and she looked so much like her mother. Melissa made no move to unwrap the plate of cookies. She would have to wait for Ivy’s permission. For all Melissa knew, having a cookie now would spoil Ashleigh’s dinner. “How long have you lived here?” Melissa asked, glancing around the apartment once more. “It’s a lovely place.” Melissa treated apartments like homes. She knew some people who thought apartments to be temporary places to live. Melissa didn’t particularly understand them. “The way it’s set up is perfect.” It may have seemed a strange thing to say, but she tended to think a lot about interior design, about making a place your own.