Page 34 of You'll Love it Here

“So you’ve known Irene a long time, then?” I ask, remembering the birthday flowers Sami’s family must’ve had to get from elsewhere, now that their local florist is long gone.

“Oh yeah, she’s always been awesome about supporting us. Like, I’m sure you’ve experienced her pushy pitches about the best local this or that.” Sami shakes it off with a small grin, but I can tell he appreciates it.

“Just a little.” I remember when I first moved in, I was sure I wouldn’t be living in such a place for much time. Irene gave me a whole printout of places in the area she likes. It sat on my counter for a while and eventually I threw it in the bin. When I got takeout or went for drinks, I usually did it around the office anyway.

We reach the end of the alley, marked by a dumpster that’s equal parts spray paint and piss, and Ernest adds his piddly contribution to the collective. The road has all the ambience that three construction sites in a row can offer. There’s a perpetual beepingfrom the yellow machinery kept in their ugly orange-fenced enclosures.

Sami pushes the crosswalk button for us as we make our way toward what I’ve mentally dubbed Ernest’s Park. “Where did you grow up?” he asks me.

“Nowhere exciting. Just a bungalow in Renfrew.”

His eyes flit my way. “Wait, so you’re from Calgary?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I assumed you came here for college or your job or something.”

I shake my head. “No, I’ve been in the city pretty much my whole life.”

“Cool.” I feel his eyes on me, but I keep looking ahead, watching Ernest examining several blades of grass. “So your mom’s in town?”

“Yeah. She’s still in our old house.”

“Not too far, then.” His voice brightens. “That’s convenient.”

“Yeah...” I smile tightly. I’ve seen her maybe three times since my dad passed, and one of those was at a registry to get some paperwork filled for his non-estate. A weird kind of unfounded shame digs at me, even though I know it’s for the best I haven’t seen a lot of her recently—she can’t help me right now, and I’m not able to help her in any real way. Turning back to Sami, I say, “Not as convenient as you have it, though.”

Sami rolls his eyes. “Yes, my parents are like unhealthily close to me.”

“It’s nice.” I try to smile, but I need off this topic. “So, tell me about the hairstyle.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You know, the awful haircut you had back in the alley-hockey days.”

“Oh, ofcourse.” His nose crinkles. “I guess it was like, the longer swoopy one? A little bit Tony Hawk? Wait, are you laughing?”

I press my lips together to stifle it. “I’m sorry, but only because that’s exactly what I was picturing.”

“Wow. Laughing at me with an imagined haircut seems cheap.” Sami’s grinning along with me.

We make our way around the corner past the alley. Ernest starts to pull the leash as soon as the park comes into view. Sami introduces me to Ernest’s favorite tree, which is different from the one I’d been thinking—but he’s right, this is totally the real favorite tree. After, Ernest goes through his protocol of sniffing all the benches and street poles on his list.

We start making our way back to my apartment and the stress slowly makes its way back to me. Somehow during our walk, I’d almost forgotten about the day I had, until I spot the cardboard covering Norm’s window. I wonder if he’ll actually make it out to get stitches tonight.

Sami’s expression lifts as he spots Old White Perve and Fancy Widow standing just outside the apartment’s entrance. Lorna’s fur-trimmed coat is a stark contrast to Carmen’s ripped Wranglers. Their voices carry from the front walkway. Fancy Widow giggles as Carmen loud-whispers, “It’s not like in our day. They’d take you out back and—”

I feel like I’ve more than hit my quota for strange interactions with the building’s residents today, so I’m planning on sneaking past them quietly, but of course Sami has to call out, “Hey, you two!”

Carmen stops whatever he was saying and turns toward us. His eyes swoop suspiciously over me, but he doesn’t say anything. At least Fancy Widow gives me a microscopic nod.

Sami, oblivious to any tension, continues, “Carmen, I started streaming that movie you suggested with the folks who wake up in a cube. I’ll finish it tonight.”

In an instant, laugh lines appear around the sides of Carmen’s lips. “You actually watchedCube?”

An intrusive groan of drilling from a jackhammer shakes through our group. In unison we all wince, while Sami flips off the general direction of the construction site next door, where the sound is coming from.

“So what do ya think of the film?” Carmen asks when it’s finally quiet enough to do so.