This story is a collaboration between
MsCherylTerra
and Bebop3.
Lockdown Day 12
"So, you're going to be okay? I can drop some stuff off. Not a big deal. Honestly, I think this is going to blow over in like a week."
I shook my head slightly. "I don't know, Mark. It seems... bigger somehow. Bigger than what, I have no idea. It just seems like we're at the start of something, not at the end. But I'll be fine. It's not that different for me, you know that. Actually, I could probably get supplies for you guys and the kids. You have enough meat and produce?"
"Sure. We're good. The kids miss you and honestly? Daria's a fucking saint. I love my kids, but 24 hours a day with them makes me realize that my wife is a hell of a lot stronger than I am."
I laughed. "I've known that for years. Listen, have you ever been to Afterglow Farms? They're about 20 clicks from you. They're a co-op and they're taking new customers. I signed you guys up. You'll get a box delivered once a week. Two dozen eggs, a couple of heads of lettuce, bananas, apples, and other stuff. If you need more, you can upgrade the box for like twenty bucks."
He smiled at me through the screen. "You're a good uncle, Danny. If it was just me, you'd tell me to stock up on Ramen. How do you find these places?"
I rolled my eyes. "Um, it's what I do? For a living? To make money? Any of this ringing a bell?"
He laughed. "Okay. Listen, seriously, if you need something, let me know. I've got the mask and a box of gloves. I'll leave whatever you need outside your door. I've got two extra cans of Lysol and four bottles of hand sanitizer for you. I can stop at the pharmacy or wherever."
"Thanks. I'm good, but if things change, I'll let you know. Tell Daria and the kids I love them."
"Will do. Stay safe. Call me tomorrow."
"Okay. Love you."
"You too."
He reached out and ended the video call.
It was one of those unseasonably warm days and I had the windows and sliding glass door to the balcony open. I had four cases of Big 8 diet cola stacked against the wall, a special order one of my clients made sure to bring in for me. It wasn't easy to find in Toronto, but it had become my favourite pop after a trip to Nova Scotia a few years earlier. Grabbing a glass with ice, I took a can back to my desk and started doing research and making more calls. It felt weirdly gruesome to be benefitting from the pandemic, but my website was going nuts. I'd been getting an insane amount of hits from people looking for help and from potential advertisers.
Checking my messages, I called back the first person on my list.
"Hi, this is Danny Callaway from YourOntario.com. You called this morning?"
"Mr. Callaway! This is Marcia. Thanks for calling back. We were hoping to get on your list of places doing home deliveries."
"Okay. Did you see the link on the site with the form to fill out?"
"Well, yes, but we were hoping that maybe we could tell you what we offer and..."
"Marcia, I don't mean to be rude, but there's no way I can keep up with the volume of businesses reaching out. That's why I have the form. I'll definitely call you back if I have any questions. If you fill it out today, I'll include you by tomorrow. Promise."
"Okay, sure. I'll leave my home number as well. It's just... We're a family business and... It's, um, things aren't looking so great."
"I see. Okay... why don't you tell me what you do?"
"We import Mediterranean food, mostly Greek, and sell wholesale to restaurants. We also deal with local farms for lamb and goat. With the restaurant closings and... Well, things aren't what they used to be. We're delivering directly to people's homes now. We have access to poultry and fresh milk, and of course we've got a warehouse full of our regular provisions."
"Okay, Marcia. Get me the information by this afternoon and I'll have it up by tomorrow and I'll get you a banner ad for 48 hours. No charge."
Her voice was breaking as she responded. "That... Thank you, Mr. Callaway. My parents started the company when they moved here and they..."
"I understand. You guys are doing the right thing. People need help. You're doing contactless delivery?"
"Yes, yes we are."
"Well, then I'm happy to get the word out. Get me that info, okay?"
"Absolutely. Thank you."
"Not a problem. Stay safe, Marcia."
"You too."
When we hung up, I heard a loud voice coming from near the balcony.
"Is this better?"
Pause.
"Yeah, I'm out on the balcony. I can't. Don't put this on me. I'm in a different country, Mom. I can't just hop in a car and drive over."
Pause.
"Okay, yeah. Can you hear me? You're breaking up. What? Okay, send me the phone number. I can overnight an iPad. Maybe someone can set up something for video conferencing or something."
Pause.
"Yeah, I know they're busy. I said maybe."
Pause.
"I don't care, Mom! I don't give a crap about the money. Let them steal the fucking iPad! She's... She's... Look, I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow."
Pause.
"I said I'll call you tomorrow! Just get me that phone number and I'll talk to someone at the facility."
Pause.
"Mom, I can't deal with this right now, okay? I'm gonna go."
Pause.
"Mom, I'm hanging up. I love you."
There was another pause and then the sound of sobbing.
I'd received the notice from the building's management company when she moved in. Everyone on our floor did so we'd know about the guys handling the moving and be aware that the service elevators were going to be reserved. We hadn't met yet. She wasn't here long before we entered the new world of COVID-19.
This was incredibly awkward. I sat there selfishly hoping that she'd just go back inside her apartment so that I wouldn't be faced with the question of whether I should say something or not. The crying didn't stop so I eventually went out to my balcony. It was separated from hers by a stucco wall. She seemed to have a leafy fake plant on hers and I could see some of the leaves sticking out over the railing.
"Um, hello? I, uh, we haven't met. I'm Danny Callaway, your neighbour in 14B. I, uh... Listen, are you okay? Did you want to talk or something?"
There was a short, tense pause punctuated by the occasional sniffle.
"I forgot people could hear me out here," she finally choked, and the sobbing started again.
I tapped my finger against my thigh nervously. "Look, um, I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"You're sweet," she managed to say through her tears. "I'm fine. I... my grandma's got it."
It. I didn't need to ask what "it" was.
"I'm, um, I'm really sorry," I said, knowing as I said it how completely inadequate the words were.