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I'm rummaging around the kitchen, trying not to set the smoke alarm off and burn the damn cake I'm trying to bake when Tally comes in nonchalantly with a book in her hand. I stop wafting my dishtowel at the ceiling to ease the small veil of smoke and squint at her.
"What's that?" I ask.
"It was on the coffee table," Tally says and flips the page. "I didn't know you were drawing again."
"Oh," I say and shrug. "I mean, I stopped for quite a few years but, I guess with the job and the move and everything I started getting stressed. It ended up being the only thing that could calm me down."
Tally smiles slightly. "They're good. The cake is also burning."
"Fuck!" I run to the oven and open it up, turning it off and staring down at the crispy cake. "I wanted this to work out."
"Franny," Tally sighs and stands beside me. "I offered to cook dinner and bake something."
"I know, but you've always been good at cooking. I just...cook to live. I want to be good at it for once."
Tally rolls her eyes. "Alright, well, that's not edible and you look like you could do with a cake to eat."
I pout and Tally grins. "Do you want me to go to the grocery store?"
I put the dishcloth down and take off my stupid apron that I had bought excitedly at the prospect of becoming a master pastry chef in one evening.
"No, it's okay," I say. "I could do with the fresh air."
"Alright," Tally says. "I'll become Fig's best friend while you're out."
"I'm his best friend."
"You're his mother," Tally points out. "I'll be his cool aunt."
I roll my eyes and grab my keys from the counter before slipping into a pair of loose sandals. "Fine. You can be the estranged drunk aunt that we only see during thanksgiving."
Tally blinks. "Do you celebrate thanksgiving when Canadians do or in November when we do?"
I pull the front door open. "Come on, Tally. A chance at getting two giant meals? I obviously celebrate both."
"Oh, oh!" Tally calls out, clinging onto an unamused Fig from where he is lounging across the couch. "Can you get ice cream? Like whichever one has the most unhealthy things in it?"
I grin. "One tub of Ben and Jerry's coming up."
"Love you!" Tally calls to my back.
I live on a pretty good street. It's not a Neighbourhood, per say. Being directly downtown in a city makes that hard sometimes, but it's slightly off the main path of the congested areas in the city. And having moved into my apartment just over a year ago, there is much more of a little community within the few blocks the area covers.
There are the usual business buildings but there are little townhouses, old architecture and niche stores that warm the area up. I take in a gulp of the slightly humid air but the evening is settling off the heat and allowing for the sun to rest and set in the distance. It makes the sky above the skyscrapers become a pink and orange vibrant hue. It looks almost fake.
I pass by a little corner convenience store with flowers hanging outside and large potted plants seated in its little attached greenhouse. When I cross the street and enter the main grocery store, I grab a basket and begin searching the shelves for Tally's ice cream.
When a tub of ice cream with at least seven different chunks of something added inside is in my hands, I head over to the bakery section. If I'm incapable of making a cake myself then I will buy one and enjoy it as if I made it myself from scratch. Barely any difference.
I graze my eyes over the shelves before settling on a large chocolate cake that's packagers and tucked away on the top shelf. Typical. I look around but no one is currently there to help a girl in need so I reach up on my tip toes like a five year old and bat my hand at the cake until it slides closer to the edge. My basket handle is tucked into the crook of my arm and I grunt, jumping slightly, and with a hazardous flail, I manage to grab the edge of the cake's packaging.
When I pull it down, I almost drop into onto my own head before I steady myself by taking a step back and directly knocking myself into someone else. I'm still awkwardly hidden behind the cake so I quickly call out a sorry as the guy shuffles past me with an amused noise escaping his throat.
I look down at the cake and ice cream in my basket and realize this really does look like a woman in her mid- twenties already hitting rock bottom. Oh well. I spontaneously grab a rotisserie chicken, potato wedges and the ingredients for a quick salad from the pre-cooked section after texting Tally if she would eat it for dinner.
The affirmative answer of 'you know I'll eat anything Franny' was good enough.
When I get back home, Tally is shuffling through the TV, trying to find something we can both watch. The travelling over the last few days has worn her out and so even though she was more than eager to get back into the dating scene and find herself drunk somewhere in the middle of the city, I needed her to not fall asleep at a bar.
"Fran," Tally says. "Serious question."
"Yeah babe?" I ask as I lie on the bean bag on the ground. Fig wanders over to me and lies down beside me, dropping his tail onto my stomach and squishing his face against me. I am suddenly very thankful that I don't wear black often because I would be covered in fur by now.
"Is it weird that I feel that the fun part kind of went already? Like, yeah, I said I wanted to go to a bar and usually I do but for some reason it just...feels kind of stupid now. Am I having a mid-life crisis early?"
I snort. "No, drama queen. I think you're burnt out."
"Burnt out?" Tally echoes.
"I mean, yeah. It makes sense. You got your degree, worked the whole way through college and then went off abroad for three years to teach kids. You never really stopped at all. I know you loved it but...you're not really the kind of person that knows when they need to slow down."
"So I'm a workaholic?"
"Honestly, yeah," I say and tilt my head back to look up at her from the floor. "But hey, you have all this time with me, in a new city, and no crazy work hours. We can just finally both relax for once. This'll be good for us."
Tally sighs. "You're good for me."
"God you make me cringe."
Tally laughs. "Don't worry, stuck up. I'll find you a guy while I'm here. You won't have to be single for months on end anymore."
"It's not that bad. Being single is good. It gives you perspective."
"But you're ready to be in a relationship again, aren't you?" Tally asks.
I think about it for a moment. Am I? Am I ready to throw myself back into relationships after the last one ended in a complete mess? I've been single for months and I made it that way. There was no way I could go back to dating anyone after it happened. But even now, is it too soon to throw my heart around like that again?
"I don't know, Tally," I say. "It's going to take one hell of a guy to fix what the last one left behind."
