Excerpted: The Elevator

A swish of air grazed her face and Aria’s eyes flickered to see the light-haired guy walk in through the door from the garage. He stopped about two feet from where she stood and her slump changed to a stand. The burger stop had made her later than usual. This was probably the time he got home every day. She recalled that he got off on the first floor in the mornings, and she figured that he was heading to the bus stop. Maybe he drove today.

His face was bent downward as he stared at his phone. She looked sideways, turning slightly to check out his hair. White. Blonde or grey? It was difficult to tell. He was tall—maybe six feet, and wearing a blue shirt and khaki pants; no tie. She couldn’t remember seeing him in a tie before.

As she took a peek at his shoes, the elevator opened and the woman in the pink Coach hijab emerged, pushing her newborn in a stroller. The baby’s brown eyes widened as she stared at Aria and a grin spread over the chubby face, exposing pink gums. The smile was contagious and Aria found herself grinning as she stepped into the elevator beside the light-haired man. Once inside the tiny space, she resisted the urge to look in one of the mirrors that lined the walls of the metal enclosure. She tucked a piece of her hair behind one ear, hoping the strands weren’t fanned out on either side of her face from the static cling. The man pushed 14 as she had expected, and together they rode up, enveloped in the smell of grilled burger.

His floor came quickly. As the door opened, he moved to exit and she noticed a gym bag slung over one shoulder. Wait, was that a hesitation? His head turned slightly and she wondered if he was going to say something. Her mouth opened but shut quickly again. Hungry breath. He moved across the threshold and the door closed behind him. A surge of movement carried her up three flights to her apartment.

Aria didn’t bother to change out of her work clothes. Instead, she lifted the burger from the brown paper bag and placed the wrapped sandwich onto a plate. It would get messy. She poured a glass of wine, took her meal over to the coffee table, and turned on the news. As she bit into the still-warm sandwich, the combination of grilled meat, melted cheese, and roasted-vegetable-mayo concoction took over her mouth and she sighed, feeling the gratitude from her rumbling stomach. She chewed slowly, savouring the taste, and looked at the television screen. A news reporter was standing in front of a school, talking about a Covid outbreak. The public health unit where she worked had been buzzing about it all day. She probably should have been paying attention to the news story but found herself tuning out. She’d had enough. She took a second bite, and as the flavours flooded her mouth once again, a sudden wave of guilt rushed through her. The chewing slowed. Aria stared at the screen and focused on the reporter, watching her mouth move while trying to listen but heard nothing. She continued to chew and chew until she allowed herself to swallow.

Aria had known about the burger joint for years, having heard about it from one of the girls at work. “They make them on site and throw them on the grill right after you order, so you have to wait,” she was told. “But totally worth the wait and there are always cute guys standing around.”

The thought was intriguing but she was only interested in the food and not the guys, since at the time, she was already dating Tyler. It was early in their relationship and although she knew he was a healthy eater, she figured that a burger now and then couldn’t hurt. So, she mentioned it to him.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about that place.” Tyler said.“Disgusting. Those burgers are slabs of fat, Aria.”

It wasn’t really the words but the tone of his voice that sliced through her. He’d looked right into her eyes at that moment, piercing her. She felt a surge of heat spread through her face and the moment froze as she watched his expression turn from disgust to mockery. It was the only time she had mentioned Woody’s.

This particular evening, the place was jammed with men standing around in their suits or work boots and uniforms, eyes cast downward at their phones while burgers cooked and Drake droned overhead.

When she had walked in, eyes flew upward without heads moving, intending to stay discreet. Fingers stayed still and phones were momentarily forgotten while she ordered. While she wanted to smile at the guy in the plaid button-down shirt and jeans whose eyes she had caught while waiting, she didn’t. Her stomach was nagging and she was conscious of her breath. What if he tried to talk to her? “A smile is an open door,” Mila always said. Aria rolled the memory over in her head and took a sip of Cabernet, slightly stale from a bottle on its third uncorked day.

“How do you expect to meet someone if you can’t even say hello?” Mila’s voice rang in her ears. Usually, Aria didn’t take kindly to judgements about her fears, but Mila was different. Somehow, her criticism was easier to take. “You’re going to be single a long time if you can’t open up.”

“Right…one small break from men and suddenly I’m closed.”

The same conversation had played out so many times that now Mila just rolled her eyes and changed the subject. She had no issues talking to men or women—whatever she felt like at the time. Since coming out as trans, Mila was still trying to figure out her sexuality, and Aria often envied her confidence.

But Mila had a good point. Aria should have initiated a conversation with the light-haired man by now. Two years of running into one another in the elevator and the most they’d done was exchange polite, neighbourly smiles. He was handsome in a waspy kind of way. Traditional, clean-cut Caucasian looks. Light hair, blue eyes, button-down shirts with starched collars, and reasonable shoes—not overly expensive but enough to stay out of the cheap category. He looked like the kind of guy who grew up in Oakville and whose parents belonged to a golf club and bought tables at charity fundraisers and ate roast beef dinners on Sunday. Or maybe that thought was from a television show. Though she couldn’t remember which one.

One time when they’d made eye contact, his face flushed red when she smiled back, but the elevator door had opened and she’d walked out quickly. She wasn’t sure why. Mila had laughed when she told her.

“I see him in the elevator sometimes and I think he’s shyer than you. The two of you are going to flash goofy grins for the rest of your lives, wondering if the other one will step it up. Maybe I’ll try chatting him up the next time I see him.”

“Sure…go ahead and do that. He’ll think you’re hitting on him.” Aria laughed but was nervous at the thought of Mila outing her crush.