Tour de Building #2
“I’ll start, then.” Divorced Dad has the gait of someone who is doing us all a freaking favor. “I think we should find some
time to address the sounds the pipes make.”
“Yes!” I nod enthusiastically—not entirely sure what he’s on about. “This is something I noticed too.”
“What sound? The water flowing through them?” Jane counters. “How is that not a waste of time when we have a lot of planning
for the rec room to get through.”
“Not all of us enjoy recreation,” Fancy Widow adds.
This is all great stuff. I breathe deep and let the chaos fill me with hope.
Because thankfully, this room full of weirdos can at least just . . . talk. They fill up the next fifteen minutes just trying
to establish what we’re meant to be discussing, when the diner bell dings. And all chatter grinds to a literal halt as Norm pauses at the threshold
insecurely, wide-eyed and pale like he’s thinking of backing out.
This could not be going better. I wave enthusiastically. “So glad you came!”
“Hey, Norm, there’s a seat right here for you!” Sami adds.
He’s pointing to the stool next to Jane, who grins just enough. “You’re just in time to discuss the rec room we’ve been planning.”
The relief that paints his expression is palpable as he makes his way over, temples slightly coloring.
According to the diner’s wall clock, the tour should’ve started ten minutes ago. While the tenants discuss the parkade lines,
I take the opportunity to check my phone and see if Lana’s started the tour.
Immediately my stomach drops at the messages from Lana filling my screen.
Lana Winston: I don’t have the keys to the basement facilities! Can you pop over and let my tour view the furnace room?
Lana Winston: Mona?!
Lana Winston: The client is insisting they need to see the furnace room or they won’t close
Lana Winston: They aren’t willing to re-schedule
Lana Winston: Mona where are you?
And shit. Shit shit shit shit.
I’d forgotten that certain areas are locked without the master set. Maybe I can slip out?
“Mona, what do you think?” Carmen’s voice pipes through, breaking me from my reverie. Crap—everyone is staring at me. I have no idea what they were discussing. “I’ll look into it,” I say, hoping that’s vague enough to apply-all.
Jane literally claps her hands together. “I always wanted to have a rooftop garden.”
“No growing fucking beets, though—I hate them,” Marcus for some reason just has to say.
“Wouldn’t we grow our own things in our own plot?” Divorced Dad somewhat intelligently adds.
I take a step back and look through the window. I just need to slip out for a second, but there’s no way I can without being
noticed. Another message flashes on my screen.
Mona are you here? They’re going to leave.
And shit. My eyes dart through the room full of tenants. I have to act now. I make my way to Sami and mutter: “I have to slip
out for a minute, can you please just take notes?”
Sami’s brow shifts up. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just . . . I need to use the, um . . .” What do I need to do? I can’t say I need the bathroom since they obviously have one here, and I don’t want Sami thinking I need
to specifically go to my own bathroom if I can avoid anything that leads to him picturing me sharting this early on in our
friendship. “I, um, just remembered I left my straightener plugged in and now it’s all I can focus on.”
I haven’t used a straightener in years—my hair is fully curly right now—but thankfully the handy anxiety of forgetting to
unplug it still lives in my bones for when I need it.
“Right.” Sami nods hesitantly. “I can take notes. Go take care of that.”
“Perfect! Back in a sec.” I rush out the door and my feet pound the pavement. I make it to the building just as Lana and her crew are finding their way through the front vestibule. “Hello!” I call and wave politely.
Lana startles before pasting her plastic smile on her face. “And this is the manager with the key now!” She barely hides her
wince at my obvious panting. “Mona, are you okay?”
“Yes, sorry I missed the messages, but I’m here now.” I put out my hands to the man and woman who stand together in similarly
beige-shaded blazers. “I’m Mona.”
“Mona, these are my incredible clients: Robin and Missy,” Lana introduces.
I shake each of their hands. “Let’s get that furnace room opened.”
Twenty-one minutes later, and I’m having what could be a nervous breakdown. My hair is stuck to my forehead, and my mouth
is dryer than a bag of cotton balls. But still, Robin and Missy are standing around, casually chatting in the front vestibule
of the building.
After leading these beige-clad drones through the furnace room, they insisted on seeing every other room in the basement.
They also suddenly wanted to see my apartment, where Ernest ended up stealing the show, before then deciding that yes, they
would like to go back to Irene’s place. Every time I tried to leave them and Lana, they seemed to find a new way to keep me
from doing so. Asking me if I liked living here, and the demographics of the tenants. If it weren’t for the party I was both
hosting and ditching, I suppose their endless questions would be reassuring. Their interest in the tenants probably means
Robin and Missy want to preserve at least some of the current leases.
Lana, likely sensing my angst, tried several times to let me go, but she couldn’t exactly tell Missy or Robin to fuck off
when they asked if I liked the neighborhood.
Sami has sent me several inquiring texts, and I even got one from Jane, but they stopped coming in five minutes ago, which means I need to get back there ASAP.
Finally, after cracking a joke about ROI that wasn’t even a little droll, Robin finally says something good: “Well, I think
this about marks our time. We’ll be in touch.” Missy nods at his side—she’s been doing a lot of nodding.
“Thank you so much for coming by!” Lana starts her handshake tour.
And when Robin comes to shake my hand once again, my stomach drops. Because behind his head, I catch a view out the front
window. It appears that both Carmen and Norm are making their way up the sidewalk.
Fuck.
I’m going to shit my pants.
Missy takes my hand, the final handshake in our round robin, before they start to move toward the lobby door—where they’ll
run directly into Carmen and Norm. So I yell, “The back alley! You guys can’t leave without checking out the hidden gem back
there.”
Lana furrows her brows together. “I’m sure they can picture the back alley, Mona.” Her voice is lighthearted, but layered
with a terrifying undertone.
“Not this one! Come on, Robin! Let’s go, Missy! I’ll race you!” Then I actually start running.
And Robin and Missy look at each other before jogging after me.
Finally, I get Missy and Robin safely off the premises without detection.
I’m not proud to say I spent over seven minutes showing off the fire escape, and discussed where the wires meet the building, and other useless fucking things.
When I make it back inside the diner, the place has pretty much cleared out.
Soft acoustic music is playing from the jukebox, while Sami is carrying a round tray full of spent glassware to the back, his arm muscles working overtime.
Fighting Couple are just leaving, holding hands as they ease out the booth.
Marcus grabs his lanyard of keys and stuffs it into the pocket of his khaki pants.
I wave my goodbyes to them and take a seat at the counter. “Hey, Sami, I’m so sorry about that—shit, I missed it all?”
His expression is worried. “Everything okay?” He rubs his hair back and it falls over his eyes a moment later.
“Yeah, I just, I was feeling a little queasy when I got home. Maybe I need to drink more water in life.”
“Come and sit. We have water to hydrate you, and I was just making myself dinner.” His voice is lighter now.
I take the stool across from him. “This is starting to be my favorite seat.”
The sincere grin fills his whole face, all the previous concern fading away. “You’re starting to be my favorite customer.”
“Bet you say that to everyone.”
“Everyone except for Carmen. Him I take for granted.”
I giggle. “So what did I miss? Man, I shouldn’t have left.”
“Honestly, not much.” He ruffles his hair, smiling to himself. “I organized a vote on the color for the rec room. They had
to have a recount twice before they decided on a lighter green, but I told them to hold off on buying anything until you gave
them the all-clear. Then they started wondering where you were. When it became apparent you weren’t coming back as quickly
as planned, I gave them snacks and told them to discuss among themselves any other building issues. A lot of the things were
complaints about interpersonal things like noises through the floors—nothing you could work out. I think it was healing for
them to be able to communicate with one another like that, though, for what it’s worth.” Sami’s grin is cheeky. “They pretty
much left after cleaning me out for snacks. A few were eager to finish tidying the rec room. But some are going to message
you a few questions about the garden.”
I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for Sami. “Wow, Sami. You’re the best.” I pause. “And I was such a piece of shit, leaving you to handle that.”
“Eh, it was nothing. It’s just nice to see neighbors caring about the community. And that’s thanks to you.”
I look away from the reverent look he’s giving me. His voice thickens just a little. “Can I get you a glass of celebratory
wine for a job well done?”
“A wine would be lovely,” I say as brightly as I can muster.
Sami returns with a bottle and two wineglasses. “So, this is my first time attempting this stew but I think it’s a banger.
It might be better enjoyed over there.”
My eyes follow where he’s looking, toward the back booth. We’ve never eaten at a table together—always on either side of the
counter, while he was standing and I was sitting. The soft way he’s looking at me brings a flutter to my stomach. It’s just
a table; it doesn’t make a difference.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, standing up.