"Wash your hands, convict."
I chuckle and move to the sink to start washing my hands.
"What makes you think that there's anything wrong? You sound like Nathaniel Carter right now."
"You cook for fun. You bake to forget something."
I shut her up with that. She thinks I don't know her, that I don't pay attention, but even when she gives me the silent treatment, I learn more about Ariana each and every day.
"I applied for a job that I didn't get."
Finally, a real conversation.
"What kind of job? I thought you loved your job."
"I'm applying for a traveling nurse position."
"A traveling nurse?"
"It's simply a placement of a nurse into an area with a nurse shortage. We get paid a great hourly wage and usually your housing is subsidized."
"So, you're leaving?"
"That was the plan, but you ruined the first opportunity I had when you ran Bill out of the juice bar. His sister owned the agency that was going to get me a prime placement. Now neither he or her will return my calls. He walks right by me in the hospital."
"Aww, that's too bad."
"You're such a jerk. Bill is actually a big deal in this town. I think he may have even put the word out with some of the other agencies not to hire me. There's no way that I shouldn't have gotten that job today."
"Maybe you don't interview well."
"Oh my God! Shut up and get out of my kitchen."
"I'm just saying you're being a little presumptuous. You think you're the only qualified nurse in the city of Philadelphia?"
"You get a kick out of seeing me suffer or something?"
"You're suffering working at one of the premier hospitals in the city? Making a super high five figure salary. Living rent free in a renovated house."
"I may not have done time like you," she says as she vigorously mixes the batter. "But there are times that I feel like I am."
Her eyes get a little glassy.
"What do you mean, Ariana?"
I place my hand on hers and stop her from churning the damn batter into butter.
"I'm suffocating in this house."
"Because of me?"
"No, my house is like a living memorial to my mother. And yes, while it's heart wrenching, and sweet, and romantic, it's painful as shit for me. He talks about her a hundred times a day. He compares everything I do to her. My cooking, the way I clean, how I talk, a joke I may tell, an outfit I may wear, the way I may laugh. It's exhausting. So, I need to get away. I need to breathe."
"Why don't you tell him."
"And break his heart? I couldn't. He's done so much for me. He lives to make me happy. I know that. So how would I sound telling him to stop grieving for my mother. How much of an asshole would I sound like?"
"Don't go, Ariana. Just talk to him."
One lone tear rolls down her face.
I catch it with my thumb and wipe it away.
"You'll get tears in the batter."
"Be quiet, son of jack. Just...be quiet."
* * *
