Drowning

Chapter Nine - Things Not Left Behind

"Do you miss Toronto?" Denise asked, idly whirling a splash of kaluha around the bottom of a Christmas-themed mug. The question was almost a stupid one. After over a month in Vancouver, Yanna still hadn't even bought proper wine glasses. She was living out of garage sale leftovers and housewarming gifts, as if she didn't make a very nice salary, thank you very much, at what amounted to her dream job downtown. She was avoiding putting down roots, clearly. But Denise, even while sober, couldn't understand why.

"Yes. No. Sortof." Yanna lay on her back in the middle of a perfectly serviceable crochet rug she'd salvaged from a church sale. Her kaluha was long gone, and she'd given up trying to screw the sticky top off a gift-bottle of creme de menthe. She would have to buy some real alcohol for the larder. In case of guests. In case she ever had a real guest. "I miss the Toronto I had five years ago. I miss being 25. That was sweet." Denise snorted.

"You still look 18, girlfriend." She slid off the couch and on to the floor next to her cousin and offered her mug over. Yanna sat up and took it, taking a swig.

"Okay, whatever. I don't miss looking 25. Or 18. I miss what I knew then. Or didn't know. You know? I miss school and the apartment on Yarmouth and my friends before they all got married. I miss feeling like I knew exactly who I was and where I belonged. Going back to Toronto won't get that back. But I don't have it here either. You know?"

Denise nodded. "You need a boyfriend."

Yanna swatted at her in mock frustration. "I don't need a... a goddamn boyfriend! Holy shit, lady. I just need... I don't know. More friends. A place."

"If you met a good guy, you'd ease into a - a place, or whatever. I mean, be honest with yourself - if you find a place as a single woman, you're just going to lose it when you meet a guy anyway. You'll just be starting all over. I wish I wee you, Yanna, I really do. This fresh start. You get to put yourself into any place, as you're calling it, that you want. You just need to angle the right guy. No strings attached to any baggage."

Yanna ignored the mixed metaphores and tried to think through the haze of memories and alcohol. She knew better than to define her life through her partner. She knew better the hard way. But how could she explain that to Denise without bringing up a whole lot of unpleasant history? She wasn't ready to share that much with her cousin. She just shook her head and drank the rest of Dee's drink. "You wouldn't want a fresh start, Dee. Your friends are excellent. You don't want to ditch them for new circles. What about-"

Denise was saved by her cheap shot by the unfamiliar ringing of Yanna's land-line. It took them both a few startled moments to even understand what they were hearing. Yanna never got phone calls at home. She had a cell phone which she used for work which her few friends used to reach her. The only people who had her home number were her family back in Ontario, but they'd never call her. Would they?

"Hell-wait. Hello?" Yanna fumbled the reciever. Denise watched as Yanna's face went immediately white. The smaller girl listened without talking, growing more aggitated by the minute. Denise scrambled to her feet, ready to hear the worst. Without saying a word, Yanna hung up.

"Yanna?" She asked after a moment of silence. "What is it? Is it Uncle-"

"No." Yanna waved an arm dismissively. "Everyone is fine. Um, family is fine." She paused a moment, then glanced out the window nervously. "I have a long story to tell." She finally conceeded. "But I'd feel better telling it somewhere else. Want to go... go..."

"Yanna," Denise moved to her cousin's side and put her arms around Yanna's shoulders. The girl clearly needed it. "It's 3am. Everything is closed. Maybe you'd better come to my place." Yanna nodded. She stood perfectly still for one more moment, then quickly snapped up her jacket and purse and headed for the door. Denise scrambled to follow.