IMOGEN
"Orders up!" Spinner Mason, owner of the new restaurant/bar in town called out behind the counter, dressed in an apron.
The ding of the bell and his deep voice jolted Imogen Moreno out of the intense focus she had on the laptop screen in front of her with Photoshop open. She was a regular customer at Spinner's restaurant and as a fellow Degrassi Alumni, it was like a right of passage to eat there. Once a week, Imogen would run into at least one Degrassi Graduate, whether a close friend or acquaintance. The place was quaint and cozy, but a bit bigger than The Dot cafe. There were a few booths, round tables for two, and a bar area with stools and a tap system paired with various types of alcohol.
Imogen didn't order a full meal every week, most days she came in the morning hours when it was less busy and less noisy where she could get work done. She'd come quite acquainted with Spinner that before she arrived, a cup of fresh coffee waited for her. The weekends were the busiest for the restaurant and the bar thrived. Every Friday evening there were live bands and open mic nights and on Saturdays, the tables and chairs would clear for a DJ, lights, and a full club setting. Imogen had her share of "wild nights" spent at Spinner's Space.
Friday's peak brunch hour, a crowd pulled in for Spinner's famous mimosas paired with a savory breakfast sandwich. Imogen had been focused on editing pictures from a recent photoshoot of the Goldsworthy's and their baby girl when the sounds of the grill, the restaurant goers chatter, and the voice of Spinner became a nuisance to her work. Lately, it seemed like Imogen could never focus on any of her creative endeavors. When she'd sit down to work on an art piece--canvas, or sketchbook ready, she'd get a mental block and inspiration wiped from her brain and if she did get a sliver of an idea, she'd spill the paint water or spill her coffee all over the pages and it send Imogen in a spiral of frustration and she'd give up.
When Eli graced her with the opportunity to take a one-year-old photoshoot of his and Clare's child, she thought what a perfect chance to get her passion for art back to the surface. Also, the good lump sum of money Eli offered to pay Imogen helped ignite motivation for the new project. The shoot went smoothly— the Goldsworthy's had a beautiful backyard and their daughter photographed very well. Imogen then brought her laptop to the restaurant to get to work on the editing.
On her third cup of coffee, she was still working on the first photo—stuck on how to get the perfect balance of editing so the colors popped out, but not doing too much so it didn't look saturated. And now with all the background noises crowding her brain, her concentration and frankly her motivation to continue left Imogen frustrated. She collected her things, thanked Spinner by emptying her wallets with the last of her dollar bills, and headed out, back to the comfort of her apartment.
Going inside, Imogen was met with dirty dishes splayed out on the kitchen counters, a left-out milk carton with a moldy avocado sitting to rot nearby. Undressing her jean jacket, she sighed at the state of the place, clanking her keys on the countertop. Her eyes caught a crumpled hockey jersey having its home on the armrest of the two-seater couch. Imogen grumbled underneath, a curse word or two may have slipped out as she picked up the dirty clothing item to put in the basket in the bedroom.
Expecting to come home and relax, now Imogen had the urge to clean the whole place. Instead of complaining, she brought out the Bluetooth speaker and put on a nostalgic playlist that took her back to high school. She started with the kitchen, washing dishes, and tossing expired food. She danced around the round dining table fit for two, singing out the words of Carly Rae Jepson.
"Hey, I just met you..."
She took the milk carton, gave it a sniff and the sour stench scrunched her nose and gagged her throat. That's trashed.
"And this is crazy..."
She wiped down the counter and table.
"But here's my number..."
She went to the bedroom, gathering a pile of dirty laundry into a hamper.
"So call me maybe."
She picked up her keys with a free hand, the laundry hamper tucked under her arm.
"You took your time with the call..."
Carly Rae Jepson's voice continued to play then faded as Imogen went to the door, fumbling the keys and balancing a load of laundry. She finally managed to open the door but with a big struggle. And when Imogen lifted her head, her eyes fell on a head of long, brunette hair wearing a long black coat, and matching black boots and though she only could see her from behind, Imogen could recognize that woman from miles away.
"Fiona Coyne?" Imogen just barely had enough breath to spit out her name.
The woman, the fashionable New Yorker, her ex-girlfriend, and the one she used to call her soulmate turned around by the mention of her name. Imogen's brown spectacled eyes zoned in on Fiona's deep blue eyes, and they both stood on their ends of the hallways, voiceless and wordless.
The Fiona Coyne is standing in front of me in my apartment hallway.
Imogen swallowed a deep lump in her throat and now the strength of her forearm trying to hold up the laundry basket began to weaken. She hadn't seen or talked to Fiona in years, so the shock of her appearing before made Imogen lose her voice. But if she didn't say more, it'd be a lot more awkward. Thankfully, Fiona broke the silence first.
"Imogen," Fiona greeted with a timid smile and a nod.
A small part of Imogen was disappointed she hadn't used her nickname.
"Wow what is The Fiona Coyne doing in a dingy old place like this?" Imogen asked, gesturing her head at the broken ceiling lamp and the cracked flooring with the laundry basket still in tow, but now being held with both hands.
Fiona, with her perfect windswept waves, and dimpled grin carried herself so gracefully. With a hand placed casually in the pocket of her coat, her words slipped effortlessly off her tongue like she'd been prepared for such questions from her ex all day.
"I actually just moved back here," Fiona announced garnering a surprised eyebrow raised from Imogen. "And as for this place? It was my choice."
Fiona looked around the hallway, her head tilted to the ceiling, then back down, but her eyes refrained from meeting Imogen's again.
"I've decided to live a more minimalist lifestyle. My whole life has been filled with lavish homes, materialistic possessions, and going from one place to the next. I am ready to settle down."
Fiona Coyne settle down?
"So, I guess that means we're neighbors then huh?" Imogen found the corners of her mouth twitching up in amusement as she readjusted her hold on the basket.
Fiona licked her bottom lip, an unconscious habit she had before speaking that used to endear Imogen when they were in high school.
"I guess we are. What are the odds eh?" Fiona displayed a smile, but one that Imogen could feel was forced, or at least not one without some fake feelings behind it.
What are the chances she'd begun listening to nostalgic songs and then her high school ex shows up years later? Certainly a weird coincidence.
"Looks like I'll be seeing a lot more of you then?" Imogen asked, but more rhetorically. Of course, she'd be seeing Fiona plenty if they were literally across the hall from each other.
"Who knows, I could be spending most of my days in the office. You may barely see me at all."
Hmm, so Miss Coyne has her own office now?
"Bummer," Imogen joked. "I was so looking forward to seeing my ex every single morning."
For a brief moment, the exes stared at each other before Fiona came to the rescue again.
Ugh, she was always so good and initiating.
"I'll see you later Imogen."
Fiona with all her coolness and confidence, swiftly opened her apartment and disappeared, much like that fateful graduation day.
Bye, Fiona...nice to see you again.
Imogen so desperately wished she'd had the courage to say those words to Fiona.
…
In the apartment complex's laundry room, there are two sets of washers and dryers, but it still cost money to do a load. When Imogen fished around her pockets and wallet for spare change, she remembered that she'd emptied her wallet at the restaurant for Spinner's tip.
"Dammit!"
Imogen left the laundry room in a huff, power walking down the hall back to her place. She slammed the basket on the couch, giving up and she instead grabbed her phone to call her best friend.
"Dude, you'll never guess who I just ran into," Imogen flopped on the couch, legs all curled up.
"Fiona?" Eli said.
"What the heck? Are you psychic now? How did you know?"
"Clare and I just had lunch with her." Eli chuckled. "We picked her up from the airport."
"And you didn't think to tell me?!" Imogen now flung off the couch, making rounds around the small dining table.
"Okay woah, chill," Eli said. "I didn't think you'd care to know. You don't ever talk. You may as well be strangers."
"Not for long," Imogen said. "She's moved in across the hall."
"Damn. An ex living that close?" Eli amused. "If that were me, I'd have to move out."
Imogen pinched the bridge of her nose under her glasses. "You know that's not a possibility for me right now."
"I'm sorry Imo. I don't know what to say."
Imogen sighed, stopping her footing in the middle of the kitchen. "You don't have to say anything. I can handle myself."
"And it's not like it matters right? You've moved on, you're happy."
"Yeah, the happiest I've been..."
Imogene's eyes wandered around her place with an old fridge model, a dirty oven, a used couch, and peeling paint on the walls. Not the ideal apartment she expected to have at twenty-three years old. Sometimes she'd wondered about the life she would have had if she went off to Europe with Fiona.
"You seem happy," Eli said, breaking Imogen's thoughts. "And that makes me happy friend."
"Thank you, Eli." Imogen genuinely smiled.
"Say hi to my favorite girl for me."
"Will do. She's napping at the moment, but maybe you can FaceTime her later."
"Sounds good. Talk to you later Eli."
Imogen ended the call but not without a sense of emptiness and envy for those around her who had their life together. They had marriages, kids, and amazing jobs while Imogen couldn't even edit a simple photoshoot without obstacles discouraging her. And now with Fiona across the hall, a surge of nostalgia and buried emotions of her past mistakes came flooding in.
With the Degrassi Alumni Gala coming up in two days, and now one Fiona Coyne across the hall, life was about to get a hell of a lot more interesting.