"We wish you the very best. Could you please call a cab for Mara here." Mara mutters the words of her now-former boss, her voice dripping with mockery and contempt.
Metal and glass pans and baking sheets clamor as she slams them down on her kitchen counter. The oven door shuts multiple times throughout the morning, each time a little louder and a little angrier. She has no job. No source of income. No purpose to her independent life anymore. Her one and only hobby - baking - is all she has.
Muffins. Lemon bars. Cookies. Scones. Dozens of baked treats sit on top of every surface of the apartment. She can't recall if she even slept. She remembers lying there in bed, listening to the familiar tick of her defunct ceiling fan. She remembers the early sunrise poking through the dusty blinds. She remembers the smell of coffee being brewed in neighboring apartments as she stirred the flour, butter and sugar. Silent curse words spewing from her mouth to the beat of the whisk hitting the sides of her giant mixing bowl.
"Fuck you, Rob," she says as she grabs a stack of paper plates from her pantry. She places one of each baked good on the plates and covers them with frustrating cling wrap.
"You have an impressive resume, Mara, but I don't think this is the right place for you."
"Fired from Penguin? That's quite the scar to have on your work history. I'm sorry but we're going to have to pass."
"I think you're overqualified for the receptionist position here but we'll keep your resume on file."
Mara had turned in applications to several places and was asked to come in for a handful of interviews, but none had taken her up on her desperation. She had become a recluse in her home. Other than the few people that took a chance on vetting her for a job, she hadn't talked to anyone the past week. Rob's connections did a number on her career and her future now hangs in the balance.
She stacks the plates of goodies on her arms and heads out the door, her worry of being able to afford her new home at The Mare's Nest growing with every step down the hall.
Splinters from her neighbor's front door stick in her knuckles. She hears two girls yelling on the other side of the door.
"Hey! Mara!" A brown-haired girl with glasses answers the door. She wraps her oversized cardigan around her midsection and yells behind her. "MAGS! MARA FINALLY CAME OUTSIDE! Sorry for all the yelling in here. We're working on a new movie and we're not agreeing about the name of a character."
"Hi, Sara. No worries." Mara responds. "Just making my rounds. Baked some treats for you and your sister."
"Don't mind if I do." Mags, the sister, pops up from behind, snatching the plate before Sara has a chance to grab it. "You know, Sara, you can learn a thing or two from Mara here." She pops half a cookie into her mouth. Crumbs fall from her mouth and onto her vintage Orphans band baseball tee as she talks. "She actually leaves her apartment."
"I listen to too many podcasts. Everyone and anyone could be a serial killer, Mara," Sara adds. Suddenly a spritely tan dog sprints between their legs. "Shit. MAGS! HARRISON GOT OUT AGAIN! Sorry, Mara. We have to go get him but thank you for the snacks! You make the best." Sara gives Mara a peck on the cheek and the two sisters run out the door.
"Duty calls!" Mags smacks Mara's ass on the way down the stairs.
"Jesus," Mara whispers with a giggle. The characters that co-existed inside her building are all incredible in their own way. A strong sense of melancholy takes over her being at the thought of having to leave it all.
She steps down a flight of stairs and knocks on her next stop. A handsome African American man in his late 70's answers her call.
"Charles," Mara says with a smile. The man's adorable demeanor warms her soul. He owns the floral shop nearby and the beauty of the roses, gardenias and lilies he sees every day are beautifully reflected in his grin.
"Hey, Mara! What do we have here?" Charles asks, taking the plate from her hands.
"A whole bunch of stuff! Some muffins. Scones. Lots of lemon bars because I know those are your favorite."
"Incredible. You know how to make an old man smile again." Charles looks down and sees that Mara is carrying a basket of treats for more people in the building. "Have you seen Betty yet?"
"I haven't. She was going to be one of my next stops though."
"Just tell her Charles said 'hi' if you don't mind. And that she looked pretty today in her pink dress."
Mara nods, blushing for Betty and the blossoming friendship she's privileged to witness. "Will do, Charlie."
"Oh!" Charles stops Mara before closing the door. "And I hope you like the tulips! Just be sure to cut a half inch or so off the bottom every few days and replace the water. They'll last for quite some time that way."
Mara confusedly walks down the stairs towards Betty's apartment. Tulips? She hadn't bought any, so why would Charles give her advice on how to take care of them?
Then she pauses. Her eyes blur at the sight of Betty's front door as she reflects on what her life has become. In the ecosystem that is The Mare's Nest, who is she? She isn't half of a quirky sister duo, working on the next award-winning screenplay. She's not the endearing old man who owns a flower shop. She's not the many people in the building that have kids and chaotic lives. She was doing so well in her job, yet it was all snatched away - her sense of self, her independence, her life - by one bitter man. A boy with a vendetta.
What am I doing here? This is all a distraction. The baking. The hand deliveries. This is vapid. A cry for attention and appreciation. Everyone I visited in the building thus far probably recognizes that. I should go back home before-
"Mara dear!" Betty's breathy voice rings. It's strange how the woman's sweet voice has the capability of reversing all the negativity Mara just tried to convince herself of. "Harry and I were just talkin' about ya on the phone. Come in. Come in. What is it you got there? Are those blueberry scones?! Please tell me you were bringing those to me."
"I- I- I was but-"
"Don't tell me you were planning on keeping them all to yourself!" Betty comments with a hint of sarcasm. She can pick up on Mara's troubled attitude and her maternal instincts want nothing more than to help. "Come in, sweetie. Harry's going to be home soon too. He's done nothing but talk about you the last week. I know he'd love to see you."
Mara's heavy combat boots stomp into Betty's pristine, eclectic apartment. She'd been in here only a few times before, yet it always managed to feel like another home to her.
"I didn't mean to bother you, Betty. I just wanted to drop these off. Oh, and Charles said hi and that-"
"He did? Did he say anything else?" Betty asks excitedly like a girl in grade school.
Mara blushes along with her friend. "He wanted me to tell you that you looked very pretty in your pink dress today."
Betty smooths the hem of her outfit with the palms of her hands as she sits on her couch. "I guess it's a fine dress. What do you think? That's a silly question. No need to answer. Charles is a very sweet man though, don't you think?" Her rapid-fire questions turn the corners of Mara's mouth up to the biggest degree. She began to see a connection between two of her dearest friends in the building and makes a mental note to urge that along later.
"I agree with Charles. You look lovely today, Betty."
Betty grins as wide as a human can grin. Her beaming face glows up at Mara at the utterance of the compliment. "I was just looking at some old photo albums before I heard those familiar clompers outside my door," she jokes, pointing to Mara's heavy boots. "Come, come," she directs Mara, patting the empty spot on the couch beside her.
The spine of the photo album crackles as she opens it. Old photos of Harry and his family are pasted against the pages. Thin cellophane covers each sheet. The only protector of their memories from long ago.
"He was such a cheeky boy, wasn't he?" Betty says, pointing to a photograph of a young Harry. "He loved that vest. Insisted on wearing it to school every day. And the dimple! We all knew he'd grow up to be so handsome."
"That's Harry?!" Mara chuckles.
"Yes, dear. And this too!" Betty turns a couple pages. "Still had those blue eyes here. And that sweet, blonde hair. He was such an outgoing boy. Such a show boat. He'd sing and dance. Was in so many school plays. No one who knows him now would guess he was once a little show off. Look at the little ham here." Betty goes further in the album.
"This was right after he won the school spelling bee." Betty traces her finger on the frame of the shot. "A handsome boy. His parents died a year or so later. My darling daughter and her husband. I'll never forget the heartbreak on his face the night that happened. He never smiled quite like this ever again... until you moved in of course." She wraps her arm around Mara's shoulder and brings her in for a side hug.
Just then, the sound of Betty's front door swinging open echoes through her apartment.
"Grandmum! I got some supplies for the building and your prescriptions. Also, do you think Mara will like these tulips? I might need to borrow a vase. I'm thinking that lime green one. It matches her favorite mixing bowl." Harry's deep British accent can be heard from the kitchen. Cabinet doors swing open as he searches for the perfect accompaniment to the flowers he purchased for her. "I hope she's not avoiding me. She hasn't talked to me all week and it has me a bit worried. So I went to Charles's shop and picked these up. Figured it might cheer her up. What do you-"
Harry steps into the living room, flowers in one hand and vase in the other, to find Mara and Betty sitting on the couch.
"Harry! Mara stopped by to bring me some of my favorite scones. Wasn't that sweet of her?" Betty smiles up at her grandson.
"Yes. Mhm. That was so sweet of her. Hi, Mara." Harry nervously places the tulips in the vase and hands them to Mara. "I, um, got you these. I hope you like them. Charles and I figured these were your favorite. They smell great. Like you. Because you smell great. Usually. Not that you never don't smell great. You always smell great. I mean... they're pretty, right? How are you by the way?"
Mara had never heard Harry talk so much in such a short period of time. The sound of his voice in frantic, short intervals made her heart beat at the pace of a hummingbird's wings.
"You can use the vase," Betty instructs. "Mara, maybe you can help carry the supplies Harry bought to his apartment?"
The two lost bodies wander across the foyer and down to Harry's apartment. They're silent. Pink in the cheeks with embarrassment and adoration for the other. Why didn't she go to him sooner? With only a quick look at his innocent green eyes, her current worries had drifted out the front door, down the stoop and into the smoggy New York air.
"Got this for you," Harry rummages through his cluttered shelves and retrieves a bottle of red wine. The one she served him the night they went to Coney Island.
"And I made you these." Mara grabs the last plate from her basket and hands Harry his favorite cookies. "Chocolate chip without the chocolate chips." They laugh together at the description.
"Thank you," Harry says, placing the plate on his dining room table, which is covered in loose tiles and stray pieces of wood. "Um... you- you- weren't avoiding me, right?"
Mara caresses the side of his face, bringing his eyes to hers. She remembers the photo of Harry's once-blue eyes. Strange how much they've changed. Now they're a light shade of green. Like a mossy field in the middle of a damp forest. She can practically smell the scent of dew on the ground and lavender in the distance.
"Never," she whispers. "I was... um.. I lost my job. It's been a lot to grapple with."
"What? Why? What happened?"
"I'm actually not totally sure but I think Rob had something to do with it." She drops her head.
Harry's chest instinctively puffs out with pride. "What?"
"There was a picture on the CEO's desk. It was with Rob. And he quoted the note Rob left me not too long ago. I'm probably just being paranoid but I don't know. I've been on some job interviews and no one is biting. I've been so anxious, you know? I keep thinking of having to move out of here and it hurts thinking about having to leave all this behind."
All this. She means it. It's difficult to think about leaving her beloved neighbors and new community in her rearview mirror. But it's Harry that makes it especially difficult. It's Harry that makes the thought of moving her boxes out of The Mare's Nest a particularly painful thought.
"You'll figure it out, darling." Harry reciprocates her gesture and touches the side of her face. His rough palm scratches her high cheekbone in the softest way possible. "We'll figure it out."
She falls into his touch. Resting into his hand, she kisses his love line. The super that quickly fixed the stair that she'd broken is now doing his best to mend the cracks in her life.
"And if we don't?" Mara's pessimist side peaks through.
"We will," Harry says confidently. His perfect white teeth slowly peer out from behind his rose-colored lips.
He never smiled quite like this ever again... until you moved in of course.