by C. J. Birch
With the piping done, she rushed to the freezer to collect her ice cream moulds, hoping they were frozen enough. She let out the breath she’d been holding when the first one plopped out onto a plate, perfectly formed.
A loud scream and crash almost made her drop the first one. At this point she didn’t have the time to care what had happened. Lauren worked fast, her movements sure, as she combined the two halves together, creating the balls.
They called time a second after she placed her last ball. Lauren threw her hands up and stepped back from her station, confident that, even if she didn’t win, she’d done her best. And after the first judge closed his eyes as he took a bite, she knew she’d done well with the flavours. But was it good enough to win? That she’d have to wait for.
* * *
Hayley watched her breath curl into the night air. From her vantage point on the roof of her parents’ house, she could see all the stars, whereas on Lauren’s roof she was lucky if she could see the North Star on a good night.
Bum-fuck nowhere had its advantages. She took a sip of her Pumpkin Chai tea from David’s Tea. Then again, it had its disadvantages too. She was back in the land of boring, where fancy tea meant Earl Grey, and the only latte you’d find was from a Tim Hortons latte machine, which used the word “uncomplicated” in promotional ads.
She’d been here for four days, and if she didn’t get out of here soon, she would go insane. Literally insane. When she’d shown up on their doorstep at eight a.m. with no advance warning, the whole horrible story had come tumbling out. They were supportive, of course, because they always were. But after a few hours they began tag-teaming her to move back. They never came out and said it, but they would drop hints. Things like mentioning that her old job at the store was still available, or her dad would ask how much she’d paid for rent.
None of it mattered though. She didn’t belong here, and they all knew it. She’d been moping for days. Not only had she lost the girl, but she’d lost her job and apartment all in the same moment.
At first it had been nice to be home and have her mom look after her. But it came with so many strings—like having to listen to her parents’ unending campaign to keep her here—she’d been ready to head back a day after she got here. However, she had nowhere to go.
“Fuck.” Hannah pulled herself onto the ledge, crawling on all fours to get to the flat part of the roof Hayley was sitting on. “Why do you always have to make everything so goddamned difficult?”
Hayley scrambled up to help her very pregnant sister navigate the roof. “You shouldn’t be out here in your condition.”
“Don’t.” Hannah waved her hand in front of Hayley’s face. “Don’t be like every other person in my life right now. I’m carrying another human being inside me. I didn’t suddenly morph into a glass structure.”
Hayley hooked her arm around Hannah’s waist anyway and guided her to a seated position. “I know that, but if you slip and fall, it’s not just your dumb ass that would get hurt.”
“Are you saying I’m reckless?”
“You’re not not reckless.” Hayley didn’t add that she felt Hannah had actually started taking more risks since she became pregnant just to prove she could. Her mother had called her frantically a month ago complaining that Hannah had gone with friends to a paintball course. When Hayley asked her about it, she’d said it was her last chance to be a kid. Pretty soon she was going to have to be the parent. Hayley knew, out of everything, that scared her sister the most.
“So what happened? Mom said Lauren kicked you out.” Hannah shuffled closer so that her warmth was pressed against Hayley. She put her arm around her. “That doesn’t sound like the truth to me. I can’t picture Lauren kicking you out.”
Hayley bit her lip to start from tearing up. Every time she thought about that night, she broke down. She just wanted to forget about the whole thing, but no one was letting her do that. “She didn’t kick me out. I left. But she would’ve.”
“Not out onto the street. What did you do?”
Hayley shrugged and hugged her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. “Lauren and I had a fight, and I left.”
“In a huff.”
“Pfft. You say that like it’s something I do a lot.”
“You jump to conclusions. It takes you a while to calm down enough to hear someone’s side of the story.”
“I borrowed money from the till to enter her in that contest. And before she could win and I could replace it, Aaron found out. She fired me and so I left.”
Hannah turned, aghast. “Excuse me? You stole money from the till, and you’re surprised this is how it turned out?”
Hayley’s chest constricted at the thought. She’d been the reckless one. She’d thought everything would work out. The consequences had been a surprise.
They sat there for a few minutes letting their breath curl up into the air. At this time of year, the neighbourhood was quiet. After dark not many kids were out playing. Occasionally they’d hear a car crunch by. It was quite a contrast to her and Lauren’s apartment on Queen Street, which was never quiet. There were always cars, always streetcars, and always drunks yelling in the middle of the night.
“Mom told me she offered you your old job back.”
Hayley groaned. “Took her less than two minutes. I think they’ve been holding off hiring someone to do the work because they knew I’d end up back here.”
“And what’s so bad about here?”
The scrape of a shovel broke the silence. Casper Falls wasn’t very big. From their vantage point on the roof they could see the main strip, which was only two blocks away. The glow from the Christmas lights flickered red and green. It didn’t matter how much the world changed. Casper Falls would always stay the same. It didn’t matter that everywhere else had moved onto blue-and-white or purple lights. Here they were traditionalists.
Every year they erected a giant tree in the main square and decorated it with angels and holly, probably the same decorations from the fifties. Every Christmas Eve there was the nativity play in front of St. Mary’s. Even if it was cold enough to freeze your tits off, they’d still do that damn play. The stores all switched to Christmas music on December first, the same day everyone put up their decorations.
Hayley turned away and watched as Mr. Field, their next-door neighbour, shovelled his driveway with one of those old metal shovels. He was seventy-six, but he refused to let anyone else do it because he’d been doing his own driveway for over fifty years.
That was the problem. Everyone here was okay with how things had always been done, and Hayley wanted new just because it was different. She’d felt that rush the first second she moved in with Kalini, Jo, and Jason. Now here she was, back on the same roof having the same conversation she’d had a million times.
“I don’t belong here.”
Hannah squeezed her shoulder. “I know that, and deep-down, Mom and Dad do too. But have you ever told them why you don’t belong here? I think they keep trying to get you to stay because they honestly can’t understand why anyone would want to leave all this.” She flicked her hand toward the quaint houses and pines beyond.
Hayley squeezed Hannah’s knee. “I’m getting the feeling I leave a lot of things unsaid.”
“Hayley.” Sara poked her head out the window. “Someone’s here to see you.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Hayley entered the living room, her arms folded and her nails digging into her skin, hoping to see Lauren standing there. But it wasn’t Lauren. She had no idea where Hayley’s parents lived. Yet Violet did.
“I heard you were back.”
“Not for long. I’m just home for Christmas.”
Violet nodded. Something had changed about her, and Hayley wasn’t sure if it was Violet or herself. Hayley had always placed Violet on a pedestal. She was the ideal, with long, silky, golden hair, a rosy complexion, and captivating blue eyes. Today she looked dull, even against the glow of the Christmas lights on
the tree.
“Why are you here?”
“I came to apologize. And give you this.” Violet handed her an envelope. Violet shrugged, seeming a little self-conscious. She’d unzipped her parka when she’d arrived, and Hayley could see a bump protruding under her sweater.
“You’re pregnant. Kevin’s?”
“Of course it’s Kevin’s. We got married last month.”
“Wow.” Hayley plopped down on the couch but didn’t say anything else. Couldn’t. She was stunned, sure, but it hurt less than she’d expected. What hurt more is that it seemed everyone else was getting their shit together except her.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Violet took a seat next to her on the couch. “I know I was a gigantic asshole. I just didn’t know what I wanted until it sort of landed in my lap. I’m sorry I hurt you in the process.”
“You’re happy with Kevin?”
“Very. And the store is doing well.” Violet turned away, staring at the lights as they cycled through the different colours. Hayley had always thought they would give someone a seizure one day. “That’s why I wanted to pay you back. I know nothing will make what I did right. And I can’t change the past, but,” she motioned to the envelope Hayley was turning over in her hand, “maybe that will help reset some of the wrongs.” Violet heaved herself up. “You don’t have to open it now.”
Hayley followed Violet to the door, locking it after she left.
“What’s in the envelope?” Hannah was sitting on the stairs behind Hayley.
“Were you listening in?”
Hannah nodded, a big grin on her face. “Yep. So what did she give you? A long, sappy letter about how much she loves Kevin?”
“Ugh. You’re the worst. You know that?”
Hayley ripped open the side of the envelope and peered inside. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Hannah pulled herself up using the banister.
“It’s a cheque for twenty thousand dollars.”
“What?” Hannah grabbed it from Hayley. “She sells cat shit. How is she making that much money? I’ve only ever seen Mrs. Clarke go in.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last few months, it’s that people buy weird shit.”
* * *
Lauren settled into a chair across from her dad. “How’s the food?”
“Awful.”
“Of course you’d say that. It’s not takeout.” But Lauren knew her dad better than that. He might have grumbled about moving out of his apartment, but it was all bluster. She’d managed to find him an accommodation in an active living community in the west end, so he wouldn’t be so far from her. It had helped that she had come into a bit of money lately. It meant they didn’t have to wait for his apartment to sell before they could get him a spot.
It still felt surreal. On her way back to George Brown that day, her only wish had been that she’d do better than Dan. The look on his face when she’d been named the winner warmed her heart. The money and prestige were nice too, although it all felt a bit hollow without Hayley there to join in the celebrations. If it hadn’t been for her, she wouldn’t have entered. As stupid as it was, Hayley’s intention had been good.
She’d paid Aaron the money Hayley had given her, but really, Hayley shouldn’t have paid for it. Lauren had more than enough to repay her. And she owed her more than money. For the first time in her adult life she didn’t have to worry about money. The problem now for Lauren was next steps. She had no idea where to go from here. She still had an apartment that was under market value, and Aaron couldn’t kick her out even if she didn’t work at the diner anymore. But it was time to move on. Long past time. She’d been thinking about going back to school like Pete, only instead of doing a course she had no interest in, she would study baking and pastry arts.
Vic was made manager, which made sense. Ramiro had hired a replacement for Hayley, who was, in his words, a shit show. Vic said the new hire was fine, but Ramiro missed Hayley. They all did. She hadn’t been there very long, but she’d affected them all just the same.
“How are your neighbours?” Max didn’t like the loss of independence, which made this place a great fit for him. It wasn’t a home for old people, like he’d worried about. He could come and go, but he was surrounded by people his own age, and staff checked in on him daily. Best of all, in Lauren’s opinion, was the dining hall. He didn’t have to cook for himself, and they weren’t making junk food. It was all healthy.
Lauren hadn’t realized how stressed she was about her dad being on his own until she’d moved him in here. She didn’t have to worry about him the same way. People were looking after him.
“My neighbours? What about them? They’re old.”
“Dad, you’re old. Hate to say it, but it’s true.” She picked up a pamphlet that had been shoved under his door. “They do euchre nights, and there’s a bowling alley. There’s tonnes to do, and you don’t have to even leave the place. They also have a library right here.”
“Okay, okay.” He waved his hand at her to stop. “I already live here. You don’t have to give me the pitch.”
“Just don’t sit here all alone, okay? Hey, look. They have trivia tonight in the bar. It would be a good opportunity to see who all the idiots are.”
He frowned at her, but the gleam in his eyes told her he thought it might not be a bad idea.
Lauren stood. “Why don’t we go grab something for lunch? We can check out all the single ladies.”
“Speaking of ladies,” he said as they made their way down the hall to the dining room. “Where’s the lady who makes all that delicious food?”
Lauren took his arm and continued walking. “Home for Christmas, I imagine.”
“She wasn’t there to watch you win?”
That had been the one down moment of her win. Pete had shown up to cheer her on, and everyone at the diner was waiting to see how it had gone. But the one person she’d wanted to be there was absent.
“I had to fire her from the diner.” They entered the dining hall, which was only half full at one in the afternoon. Lauren imagined most of the residents ate earlier than this.
“I could see how that might put a wrench in things. Did you apologize?”
“Dad, I didn’t have a choice. There was good reason to fire her. While I wouldn’t have if it was my call, it wasn’t. Aaron wanted her fired. I was just doing my job.”
“A job you no longer have.”
“Someone else would’ve done it.”
Max shrugged and walked past Lauren into the hall. He took a seat at an empty table, and Lauren had a sad premonition of the remaining days of his life, always sitting on the outside looking in. She joined him at the table, vowing she wouldn’t let that happen to her.
And the first step in making that happen was to make decisions that made her happy.
* * *
Christmas at the Cavellos’ was the usual chaos. It was the one time of year Hayley loved being home. She loved the noise as her aunts descended on her mother’s kitchen and the inevitable bickering over whose stuffing recipe they were using. She loved the delicious smells that wafted throughout the house, the glow of Christmas lights as her family sat down to play a cutthroat tournament of Uno, and the arguments over whose team was better—the Leafs or the Canadiens. Her Uncle Mitch always won as soon as he brought Stanley Cups into it, citing that half the people in the house hadn’t been born during the last win for the Leafs. Her family was everything to her, but it didn’t mean she had to live near them to be happy.
Hannah went into labour on Christmas Eve. She hadn’t been due until the second of January, but the kid decided to come early. Adalyn Isabel Mathews was born at seven fifteen Christmas morning while three generations of family paced in the waiting room.
When Derek came out to announce that it was a girl, everyone surged, trying to be the first one to see her. They spent the morning and afternoon in shifts. Christmas dinner was moved to Hannah and Derek’s place so Hannah wouldn
’t have to get off the couch to celebrate with everyone.
Hayley sat back, watching the chaos, enjoying her family, though she loved that she could leave. She could have them in small doses. She got to enjoy the great things of a small town—that her family was all together and that it was quaint and picturesque. But she needed a different kind of chaos to be happy.
With the money Violet had given her, she could move back to the city and have a little cushion before she found another job. At least this time, she had a better idea of what she was looking for.
* * *
The class was small. Only seven people filled the stations in front of Lauren. She’d chosen one of the smaller private colleges because she liked the intimacy of smaller class sizes. Her breath caught the moment she saw the bright-purple hair in front.
She hadn’t talked to Hayley since the night she left. At first, she was giving her space, and then it seemed too much time had passed. Hayley hadn’t gotten in touch with her so Lauren assumed she wasn’t interested, but a day didn’t go by that she didn’t think about her—wonder what she was doing, imagine what it would be like to bump into her some time, what she would say. Now that Hayley sat in front of her, she couldn’t take her eyes off her, let alone concentrate on what their instructor was saying. It was a good thing it was the first class and they weren’t being evaluated on their technique.
After class, Lauren knelt to grab her things from where she’d stuffed them in her station, and when she stood, Hayley was already gone. Swallowing all her anxiety, Lauren rushed out of the room. She saw a flash of purple turn the corner and followed. It didn’t matter that she had another class in five minutes. Lauren wasn’t letting this opportunity pass her by.
In the three months since she’d won Bake or Die, Lauren had worked hard at putting herself out there. She refused to live on the sidelines anymore.
Hayley crossed Dundas, entering Trinity Bellwoods from the north path. Lauren dodged a Foodora courier and dashed into the park after Hayley. She caught up to her as she knelt petting a bulldog, who was doing his best to lick her face off.