Leila was alarmed at first when she opened the door to her apartment and found someone sitting on her couch. Since moving into her new apartment, she was always greeted by Fuji at her feet, meowing for dinner. She was still adjusting to the fact that Mia now lived with her. At the moment, it still felt like a dream.
Everything seemed to have changed since Mia had moved in. Not since she was in college had Leila been used to sharing how her day was with someone else, cooking meals for two, or sharing a bathroom. Even Fuji was quieter when Leila arrived home these days since he was often hiding from Mia in another room. All of Leila's routines had suddenly shifted, but strangely, she welcomed the change.
Mia was laying against one of the couch pillows with her knees drawn toward her. Her phone rested on her legs, and her nails clacked loudly against the phone screen as she texted. Seeing Mia lounging around made Leila slightly jealous, until she remembered the odd hours Mia had to work with her waitress job.
"Hey," Mia said, glancing up and making eye contact with Leila.
"Hey," Leila responded. Awkwardness hung in the air. Mia had been nothing but kind and courteous to her since moving in, but that element of friendliness Leila was used to having with her roommates hadn't settled yet. Leila felt like she was back in her freshman year of college, living with a randomly-paired roommate in the dorms.
Fuji emerged tiredly from Leila's bedroom and began to meow at her.
"Did he bother you at all?" Leila asked as she headed into the kitchen to prepare the tabby his dinner.
"No. He mostly stays away from me. If I get too close, he hisses," Mia explained. "He's clearly fine when you're in the room though."
"We need to work on your stranger problems, mister," Leila told the cat. She dumped some wet food into his bowl and watched him begin to chow it down. "So...what did you do today?" she asked.
"Mostly spent the day with Julian at the beach," Mia said. "It was pretty warm out, so we didn't stay long. He had to work tonight, so I came back home a few hours ago." Mia returned to looking at her phone, then spoke up again. "Um, how was work?"
"Same old," Leila responded. She stepped back out from the kitchen and took a seat across from Mia on the opposite couch. "Just a lot of emails and meetings and such."
"Sounds boring," Mia muttered.
"I mean, I guess it does get a bit repetitive," Leila considered. "But, I mean, with you—"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm a waitress, so it's different kind of work."
"Actually, that wasn't what I was going to say," Leila admitted. Fuji emerged from behind the kitchen counter looking satisfied and walked over to Leila. As she scratched one of his ears, she continued, "I was going to say you're an artist, so of course you don't like office work. You never really liked schoolwork either."
"Hey! I did good enough!" Mia complained. "I really started to focus on my grades more in high school."
Leila laughed. "Sorry."
Fuji stretched and leapt up on the couch next to Leila to curl up on one of the pillows.
"Well, at least he can stand being in the same room with you when I'm here," Leila noted. "I'm sure he'll warm up to you soon."
"Hope so," Mia responded.
"I didn't really have time to get groceries on the way home, so are you okay with something simple? Maybe just some chicken and potatoes?" Leila asked.
Mia nodded. "I'll help," she offered.
When they had been laying out ground rules a few days prior, they had decided to alternate cooking meals. Leila didn't expect Mia to help on the days she was cooking, but she appreciated her assistance all the same.
As one of Leila's playlists echoed softly on the speaker, together she and Mia washed the potatoes while the chicken defrosted in the microwave. They did so silently, but the silence wasn't as uncomfortable this time, not when Leila was happily humming to some of the tunes and Mia had a smile on her face as she dried off the potatoes. It reminded Leila of the afternoons they used to spend in Mia's kitchen as kids, cooking with her mother. Those were memories Leila never expected to make again, and yet, here she was, sharing a kitchen space with Mia once more after several years apart.
"I think they're all good," Leila said, inspecting the potatoes. "We can start peeling them now," she said, handing Mia a peeler.
They stood over the sink together and began peeling. Fuji was still sleeping soundly on one of the couch pillows, though every once in a while, he would glance their way when one of them accidentally dropped a peel. Thankfully, he was still too scared of Mia to attempt stealing some food.
Leila once again began humming to herself. She reached for a potato in the strainer and smiled to herself as she peeled a little smiley face into the potato's skin. She paused to look at it for a moment, then began peeling the rest of the skin off. She glanced to her side, realizing Mia had stopped peeling.
"Did you cut yourself?" Leila asked. She couldn't figure out why else Mia would have such a pained expression. Mia ignored her and instead stared at her, seemingly frozen.
"If you cut yourself, I can get you a band-aid—"
"Where did you learn that?" Mia asked suddenly.
"Learn what?" Leila wondered. "How to peel a potato? It's not that hard, you've been doing it all this time too."
"No. Not that," Mia said. "You...you drew a little smiley face into it with the peeler."
"Oh. Yeah. I don't know why I did that. Force of habit, I guess," Leila said. She dropped the peeled potato into the pot on the stove and reached for another to peel. Mia was quiet as Leila began peeling a second potato, once again repeating the same smiley face carving before peeling the rest of the potato.
"My mom used to do that," Mia said, finally breaking the silence.
"Oh. I picked up the habit as a kid. I didn't realize it was from your mom," Leila admitted.
"Yeah, it was," Mia said. She turned her gaze back toward the potato she was peeling.
"I remember helping you cook Thanksgiving meals sometimes. Maybe I learned it then," Leila guessed.
Mia nodded. "Sorry if that was strange saying that right now. I forgot she did that."
"You mean you don't do the same?"
"I didn't cook much once she—once we moved. And I know we've only been living together for a week, but you've already probably realized you're the better cook. I guess I fell out of the habit of doing that a long time ago. It makes me happy someone's still honoring her memory," Mia admitted.
Leila didn't have the heart to tell Mia that she most likely had picked up the habit from Mia, not from Mia's mother, but Mia looked on the verge of tears, so Leila didn't say anything. She simply nodded and returned to peeling the potatoes until they were all peeled and boiling on the stove.
The topic of Mia's mother didn't surface in conversation again. Instead, they shared a bit of small talk while finishing dinner. Leila sautéed the chicken, Mia set the table, and Fuji eventually ventured up onto the counter when the scent of chicken began to fill the kitchen. Thankfully all Leila had to do was ask Mia to walk over toward him and he scurried back off to the couch.
Finally, they gathered at the small kitchen table for dinner. Mia happily dug into her chicken and potatoes. Leila was surprised to see her eat them so quickly. She didn't think they were much to go on about, but then she remembered that Mia probably didn't cook much when she was living with Abby, and Leila wasn't sure if it was appropriate to ask Mia about what the dinner situation had been like in Missouri. Leila noticed that Mia didn't seem eager to talk about her time there, so she never bothered asking, even if it intrigued her greatly.
"Mm, this is really good," Mia commented with her mouth full.
"Did you cook at your college apartment?" Leila wondered, figuring that was a safe question to ask.
Mia laughed uneasily. "Uh, well, not that often. My roommates were all better cooks than me. Plus, I ate out a lot since I was usually busy hanging out in the city. I mean, the food in New York is so good!"
"That's true, it's probably better than Maine cuisine," Leila figured. "What were your favorite restaurants?"
She sat back and let Mia ramble about the various delicacies that she got to eat in the city. Leila liked hearing Mia talk about New York. It wasn't spoken about in that same bitter tone that Missouri was whenever it came up in conversation. Yet, Leila wondered, if Mia spoke so passionately about her time in the city, then why had she packed up and left?
"Oh, sorry. I'm probably talking too much," Mia realized about ten minutes in.
"No, don't be sorry! I like hearing you talk. You don't talk a lot."
"I don't?" Mia asked.
"Er, about things you like," Leila corrected herself. Of course, she and Mia spoke often, but it was mostly to discuss the logistics of the apartment or to ask how their days had been. They didn't often get to talk carelessly like this.
"Oh," Mia said.
"So...you were saying...what are some good bakeries to check out?" Leila asked.
Later, after they had wrapped up their dinner conversation, Leila cleared their plates and washed the dishes while Mia got ready for bed. As Leila did so, she smiled to herself as she thought of the conversation they had shared. It wasn't as authentic as the conversations they used to have as children all those years ago, but it was a step in the right direction. It felt like, in a way, Mia was beginning to open up to her, little by little. Leila was happy to see cracks of Mia's personality finally begin to shine through. She only hoped it would continue the more time they spent together.