The Heat

“Francesca, why are you dressed like you just came back from the circus?” asked her mother in her thick Italian accent.

Francesca had not just come back from the circus. She had come back from a pride event hosted in the parking lot of the local shopping mall. She was wearing rainbow tights, a skinny black dress, glittery sandals, and a hat with a propeller. One eye had purple eyeshadow and the other had orange eyeshadow. Her blush was heavy on the apples of her cheeks and a temporary tattoo that said “be proud” was sat squarely in the centre of her forehead, slowly being devoured by her sweat from the humid summer day.

Francesca’s mother just didn’t understand all this pride business. It’s not that she was against what it stood for, she just didn’t understand all the dressing up and parties and drag queens. In Italy, where she came from, pride was a more subtle concept. “Canada, land of the gay,” she whispered to herself, her posture rigid. Francesca slipped off to her room.

Once in her room, she began the daunting task of removing her makeup. Her lighted vanity mirror showed the reflection of someone youthful and fun-loving. Then why was it that she was still without a girlfriend?

When Francesca’s mother came to Canada from Italy, she was 21 years old. She had Francesca not long after. Now, Francesca was 21 years old, still living with her mother, and dreaming of starting her own life. She longed to find a partner that she could move in with and planned out in her head how the two of them would decorate their house and host dinner parties for their neighbours. Her mother could introduce her partner to the culture and cuisine of Italy. Maybe sometime they could even all go there together, and Francesca could get down on one knee in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa and ask this woman to be her wife.

Being that it was only Saturday, the pride celebration in the mall’s parking lot would still be going on for another day, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go. All she had done was wander around alone, jealous of everyone around her who had friends or partners to go with. She stopped at a few booths to buy some handmade pride merch and enjoyed a few cups of the freshly squeezed lemonade, but it was too hot, her sandals hurt her feet, and she was lonely. Even surrounded by people who were celebrating the very thing that she was most passionate about, she was still lonely.

That evening, after removing her makeup as best she could and then washing the rest of it off in the shower, Francesca watched a movie with her mother. Her mother talked too much throughout the movie, often pointing things out or explaining things to her that she was already aware of. Sometimes her mother still treated her like a kid rather than an adult. Her mother fell asleep partway through the movie and when her snoring got so loud that Francesca could no longer even hear the movie, she retired to her room and went to bed. The empty space next to her was filled by her stuffed alligator.

Sunday was even hotter than Saturday had been. When Francesca left her room, hair a tangled mess from the previous night’s sleep, her mother was sitting at the kitchen table waving a hand fan in front of her face and panting like a dog. The heat took away any hunger either of them would have had while awaiting breakfast, so they sipped orange juice with ice in it.

“For dinner tonight, we should have gelato,” said her mother, still fanning herself.

As her mother sprawled herself out on the couch, groaning dramatically from the heat, Francesca placed herself in front of her vanity mirror and began her personal grooming for the day. She brushed out her hair, tied it back into a neat bun, and put on some elegant makeup, much more tasteful than what she had worn yesterday. No matter where she was going or what she was doing, she always did her makeup in the morning.

Staying inside all day with her groaning mother didn’t seem like the ideal Sunday plan so as she applied her mascara, she considered how she could spend the rest of her day. Originally, she hadn’t wanted to go back to the pride celebration, but the intense weather made her crave another cup of that freshly squeezed lemonade that she had so enjoyed the day before. Maybe I’ll go back just so I can get another lemonade, she thought.

This time, she matched her outfit to the elegance of her makeup, and put on a white spaghetti string tank top and a red mini skirt. Instead of sparkly sandals, she slipped her feet into a pair of white runners and adorned some rainbow laces for the occasion. She put on a necklace made of sterling silver with a pendant in the shape of a heart with wings. Her mother was still groaning when she slipped out the front door.

The walk to the mall was miserable. She rooted around in her purse for a tube of sunscreen and rubbed it hastily onto her face and arms. She also found an old pair of sunglasses that no longer really fit her style but would at least help to block out the sun. Of course, she could always just wear the sunglasses for the walk, and then take them off once she got there.

The event was set up very similar to the way it was the previous day, only the vendors at the booths were all new. There was even a booth selling 50/50 tickets. It was right next to the lemonade stand.

“Fifty fifty! Fifty fifty! Try your luck at ten thousand dollars!” yelled the man at the booth while Francesca bought her lemonade.

“How much for a ticket?” she asked the man, counting her change to give to the lemonade lady.

“Five dollars each,” he said, sounded almost a little too proud.

She paid for her lemonade and then, still counting her change, stood in front of the 50/50 booth, struggling to both carry her lemonade and pull out five dollars in change. She paid with three loonies, two quarters, and the rest was made up of nickels and dimes.

“Thank you very much,” said the man, “the winner will be drawn at the end of the day.”

The end of the day? It wasn’t even noon yet. She had over five hours to kill until the draw. Surely she would be sick of lemonade by then.

She sipped her drink and wandered the lot looking for something to do. The mall was still running its regular business hours so she figured maybe she could pass some time browsing and shopping. Plus, it would be a lot cooler inside than it was out there. She was sure that her tube of sunscreen would be empty by the end of the day at this rate.

When she entered the mall, she first approached the directory and map, and then decided that she’d head over to the quirky store that sold suncatchers, Harem pants, and essential oils. It always smelled good in there.

The young woman working in the store was not someone that Francesca had seen there before. Usually there was a man with dreadlocks or a woman with a shaved head. This young woman had brown, shoulder length hair. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts and lacy socks that went up to her knees. Her fingernails were long and painted silver, and both of her middle fingers had rings on them. A nametag hanging off of her black lanyard read “Erin.”

”Salutations,” said Erin, “what brings you in today?”

Francesca blushed. “Just killing time, I guess. I came for the pride event but it’s too hot outside to stay out there for long.” For some reason, she was embarrassed. She didn’t know why.

”Pride, hey? Is it any good? Is it worth checking out during my lunch break?” asked Erin.

”I guess there’s some cool stuff,” replied Francesca, browsing the store’s inventory.

”I don’t have anyone to go with,” said Erin, “would it be alright if I tagged along with you and your friends for a bit?”

Francesca was self conscious of the fact that she didn’t have any friends to go with either.

”I’m actually just by myself,” she said. She hoped that Erin wouldn’t think she was weird.

”Even better than! In that case, could I tag along with just you?”

Francesca swore she could have fainted right there. “Absolutely,” she said, “My name is Francesca. I’ll meet you out there.”

Time after that seemed to pass slowly. Francesca could hardly wait for Erin’s lunch break. She was so giddy she felt like jumping up and down and squealing.

Three lemonades later, Erin temporarily closed her store and met up with Francesca outside.

”Hey Fran!” she shouted, waving.

Nobody except her grandparents in Italy ever called her Fran.

The two of them spent some time getting to know each other at a folding picnic table that was set up for the event. Erin talked a lot, and within the first few minutes of their conversation, Francesca had learned that Erin was a Taurus, had two pet Guinea pigs named Joy and Domino, had a tattoo on her back of a skeleton holding a rose, and was a self taught oil painter. During most of this, Francesca just smiled and giggled, enjoying hearing Erin talk. Unfortunately, her lunch break was only half an hour. Francesca wished she could sit there for the rest of the afternoon with Erin.

A boy came by the table, set his backpack and corn dog down, and motioned for his friends to come sit. “No,” said the boy’s friend, “we don’t want to interrupt these two ladies on their date.” Francesca’s heart fluttered at the mention of the word “date.” She half expected Erin to correct the boys and tell them that this wasn’t a date at all, but she didn’t.

At the end of the blissful half hour, Francesca reached out for a handshake and Erin pulled her in for a hug.

”Back to work, I guess,” said Erin. “Are you planning on taking off soon too?”

“No, I bought a ticket for the fifty fifty, so I’ve got to stick around until the draw,” said Francesca.

”Well then, maybe I’ll come by after my shift and see if you’re still here,” said Erin.

”Absolutely,” Francesca said again.

When Erin went back into the mall, Francesca sat back down at the picnic table. She replayed every moment of the last half hour in her head, unable to stop herself from grinning. Eventually, the heat was too much to bear, and she made the decision to head back home. She could spend some time resting before heading back in a few hours to be there for the draw.

At home, her mother was mopping the floor. “No shoes,” she said, pointing to Francesca’s runners.

She watched the rest of the movie from last night. It was easier to watch without the exasperating snoring. It became difficult again when her mother put away her mop and got out her vacuum. Francesca turned the volume up and glanced at the clock. She thought about Erin at work, feeling the slightest bit jealous that she had something to do to pass the time, while Francesca had to endure every agonizing second while the clock ticked so slowly that it was becoming maddening. It felt like the ticks were becoming farther and farther apart every time. She fidgeted with her 50/50 ticket, only stopping when she realized she had unintentionally ripped off one of the corners.

Hours later, Francesca went back to the event, noticing Erin had beaten her there. Erin greeted her with sincere enthusiasm.

”So when’s the draw?” she asked.

”Probably pretty soon,” said Francesca, “they said at the end of the day, and it looks like some vendors are starting to pack up.”

A booming voice came over the speakers. The man from the 50/50 booth was holding a microphone too close to his face. “It’s fifty fifty time!” he announced like a sports broadcaster.

Francesca pulled her ticket out. “What’s your number?” Erin asked.

Francesca read it aloud. “Nine, nine, eight, four, two, one.”

”The first number,” the man said, “is nine.”

”Looks good so far,” said Erin.

”Nine,” said the man.

”Looks even better now!” said Erin.

”Eight,” said the man. This time Erin didn’t comment.

”Four. . . Two. . .”

He paused.

Come on, come on, come on, thought Francesca.

The man playfully stalled time by taking the microphone away from his mouth. He pretended like he was switching it off and about to put it away. Francesca wanted to groan, but stopped herself when she realized she would sound just like her mother.

He brought the microphone back up to his mouth, held it there for a little too long without saying anything, and then announced the last number.

”One!” he yelled so loud that his voice cracked.

”That’s you! That’s you!” Erin said, “Right here! She won!” She pointed to Francesca, who was gripping the ticket like it was going to jump out of her hand.

”Wow, ten thousand dollars. What are you going to do with it?” Erin asked.

Francesca thought for a moment. That was way more money than she was ever used to. Should she put it in savings? Buy a used car? Finally enroll in cosmetology school?

”Well, maybe,” she said hesitantly, “you’d let me treat you to dinner tonight?”

This time, it was Erin who blushed. That made Francesca blush too. They looked into each other’s eyes, giggly, nervous, and mesmerized by each other.

“Absolutely,” said Erin.

That night, Francesca took her stuffed alligator out of her bed and put it away in her closet. She wouldn’t be needing that anymore.