Page 76 of You'll Love it Here

We eat in silence while Ernest stares eagerly at us, apparently trying to hypnotize us into sharing. Eventually, Irene clangs her spoon into her bowl and declares, “I’ve been needing this for weeks. Even ice cream tastes better here.”

“You missed this place that much?” I try to keep the emotion out of my voice. An embroidered picture on the wall behind her reads “I love coyote watching,” which I didn’t know was a thing.

She looks around the room fondly. “I don’t really feel like myself when I’m away from this building.”

I nod as casually as I can muster. “I guess you’ve been managing it for such a long time, it’s been an adjustment leaving.”

She suddenly shifts the topic, still gazing wistfully around the room. “You know, when you first started renting from me, I was pretty sure you wouldn’t live here very long. Remember you didn’t have enough for the damage deposit?”

And her words jolt inside me. “I’d forgotten.”

“You got it to me that next month.”

“Thanks for that,” I say kindly, though I’m unsure why she’s bringing this up.

She looks at me, assessing. “You seemed all eager about your job downtown. I had the feeling you were about to turn into a total yuppie asshole. Don’t worry, this is a compliment.”

“Oh, good.” I flatten my expression. But I think back to the person I was back then. Irene’s was the only place I could afford thatwas walking distance to the office. I remember how badly I kissed her ass to get her to rent to me. How much I needed it even though I was determined it wouldn’t be for long.

But of course, there were setbacks.

And I can’t believe how quickly the past five years went by. I was so focused on getting ahead, on creating as much distance between myself and my past, that it all just kind of went... by.

Irene continues. “The thing is, I had a feeling you’d surprise me, and then finally these last few weeks, you did.”

“How so? By helping around here?”

Irene nods. “I just never would’ve believed there’d be a day where you’d break into my place and share some ice cream with me. It’s nice to see you happier.”

Her words crawl their way to me with confusing distortion—like I’m hearing them through a carnival mirror. “I’m not much happier.”

“Well, something’s different. You seem more yourself. After all these years, you’ve shown us your true colors.”

She has a point, sort of.

“Mona, I’ve had a lot of tenants over the years, and you can’t take care of a building without getting to know more than you planned to about the renters.”

“Makes sense.” I think about all the things I’ve learned about the tenants against my will lately.

“It’s almost impossible not to have that knowledge affect you. Not to care.” Irene looks almost through me.

And I realize she’s right. When I move out, I’ll wonder about everyone here for years to come. I’ll even fucking think of Divorced Dad, or maybe Carmen, whenever I see the Flames playing, and that’s only after one month of taking care of this building. I can’t imagine what an entire lifetime caring for tenants feels like—how many of them she’s watched come in and outof her life. How much this building, and the people in it, became a part of her.

“Anyway, the very best tenants are the ones that I get to see grow into themselves while they’re living here.” Her eyes reach mine again. “It’s lovely to be a part of that.”

I blink over the tenderness in my eyes. “Irene, thank you for renting to me even though I didn’t have the cash. That was really helpful.”

She throws up her hands. “I’ve never been wrong to bet on someone.”

We sit in contemplative silence for a beat until the ping of an email comes from my phone again.

I remember the note Lana sent about twenty minutes ago. Soon, Lana will be presenting the offer to Irene. It’ll be pretty obvious that she’ll have to take it.

It’ll be hard for Irene, but I have to believe this was the kindest way I could repay what she did for me. I tried to make this place shine, so it could find a new owner who saw what she did—who could keep caring for this place, and the people inside it, the way it deserves to be.

I stand and gather my bowl, then put out my hand to Irene. “Can I take that to the sink?”

Irene looks at me long and hard. Something seems to pass unsaid between us. That something is ending. “Mona, I know my management style has been unconventional.” Her voice croaks when she speaks now. “But I hope you can see now how much care was involved.”