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.
"It's fine." The voice that came back was tight, pitching wildly as she fought to control it. "My mom's pissed because I can't be there."
"Why can't you be there?"
"She's in Colorado and dying grandmothers aren't considered essential cross-border travel," she replied bitterly, then laughed. "This was supposed to be the best year of my life."
I didn't really know what to say to that, but she continued without me asking.
"I got this job, right? My fucking dream job. I'm twenty-four, I got my architectural studies degree, I applied for a thousand and one jobs and somehow, someway, I got my dream job working at the biggest architecture firm in freakin' Toronto." She laughed again, a watery sound. "You know when I started?"
I didn't know if she was expecting an answer. From the length of the pause, it sounded like she was. "Umβ"
"The second of March," she interrupted. "That's right, I packed up my entire life and moved to a city where I don't know anyone in a country I've never been to in order to start my dream job two weeks before the entire world shut down."
"Bad luck," I said. "But why didn't you go home beforeβ"
"Because I'm still working!" She started sobbing again and tapered off before speaking. "I'm supposed to be working from home. And I am, I mean, I have to. It's just... this whole thing sucks so much and now my grandma... And my mom is so mad, she just... I can't even go home and she doesn't get it."
In a world that existed only weeks earlier, I would have been obligated to pat her comfortingly on the shoulder or try to hug her or some other sort of awkward physical contact to offer solace. In the new world, I couldn't even see her.
To be honest, I liked it better that way. It was easier. I could pretend I was just a normal guy, talking to a normal girl.
"Listen, um... listen," I said. "That's a rough situation, it is. I'm sorry. I don't really know what to say, but I'm sorry you're going through this."
"Thank you," came the soft reply. The leaves rustled on the fake plant. "What'd you say your name was?"
"Danny."
"Danny. Thank you for listening. Guess what?"
"What?"
"You're my best friend in all of Toronto."
I laughed. She joined in with her own musical giggle. It was a nice sound. A warm sound. I didn't know what she looked like, but if she was half as pretty as she sounded, she would be out of my league ten times over.
"I don't even know your name," I said.
"It's Bella," she replied. "Well, actually it's Marisabel, but no one calls me that. My grandma... my grandma is Marisabel."
"It's beautiful."
"Yes, in Italian."
I chuckled again. "Nice to meet you, Bella."
"You too, Danny. Thanks for being my best friend. Maybe we can meet face to face one day."
I smiled wryly, glad she couldn't see my expression. "Yeah, maybe."
Lockdown Day 15
"Just a sec, just a sec... Mom, I know, I'm sorry, I just get better reception on the balcony, just a sec."
I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was already on the balcony, enjoying a much-needed break from the constant barrage of phone calls and emails, when Bella came back outside. I could have gone back in the apartment, I guess, but it didn't really seem reasonable to leave when it was just as much my right to be out there.
I could have also made a point of not listening to her conversation, but I did anyway.
"Okay," she said. "So they sent her to the hospital but... Okay, but what about Uncle James? He can go..."