THE BEST THING

1967

As 17 year old Leda stood in the humid air, waiting for the bus that was going to change her life forever, she felt a number of things. She felt uncomfortable, of course, the weather and the stickiness of her once crisp, white shirt dress against her skin would do that. She felt no small amount of trepidation, which was completely normal in the circumstances, she thought. She had never been to a big city, nevermind a city on her own, without her mother.

She also felt some anger. This emotion was a bit more complicated. It was more of a winding road of emotion, rather than a thoroughfare. Some of her anger was directed at her mother, who insisted that this journey was the best thing for Leda and would hear of no other plan or idea. She was angry at her beloved town, really a village, that was getting swallowed up in the world. Well, that was a bit dramatic, more like her surroundings were starting to engage with the world in a way that felt unsafe to her.

Leda was angry about the circumstances of the night that triggered this big move. One night, several months before, Leda was walking home from the store down the street, where her mother worked. She had been making this short walk for years. The little house that she lived in with her mother was surrounded and even a little covered up by trees. You could walk right by the lane heading for their house unless you knew it was there. The dirt road that she normally walked on was usually quiet at this time of night.

Then she heard the tires on the road. Few people drove on this particular road at any time, since it eventually led to a dead end. She started walking faster, just because the hair on the back of her neck prickled. And then she thought the car got faster. So she got faster. And in seconds she just started running; really kicking up dirt as she went. She knew her turn off was just coming up and if the car was really going fast they wouldn’t be able to follow her. Besides, there wasn’t really room for a car on the lane.

Once she turned towards her house, she ran with everything in her so she could get inside her house and lock the door. She could hear the sound of the car, moving further away in the distance.

When she got home and told her mother, she felt herself getting a bit sheepish. Did she really just run home because there was a car behind her? But her mother looked serious, and concerned.

In the weeks that followed, Leda thought that was the end of it. An odd moment that happened one night and then was forgotten.

When Leda’s mother first suggested Leda moving up north to stay with unknown relatives, her mother’s Aunt Bea and Uncle Max, who lived in a big city. Leda was horrified. She could not imagine living with strangers.

Leda had only ever lived with her mother and her great-grandmother,whom she had called Gigi. She loved living here. Everyone knew who she was. Her Gigi had passed away when Leda was 10 years old and so many of her great-grandmother’s friends had adopted her as their own.

She had glorious memories of learning how to garden, and how to cook. Secret and precious recipes had been handed down to her over the years because she was the only one interested in getting them. She collected them all in her little, palm-sized black book. Most of the time, she could make meals without even looking at the recipe book, but the book was still her prized possession.

When her mother mentioned the move a second time, Leda had a sense she was getting even more serious. Leda’s mother Edith was a small but determined woman. Despite her slight frame, she was always capable. She had worked at the little grocery store up the road from their house as long as Leda could remember.

Once her mother got an idea in her head, Leda had learned it was useless to try to change her mind. But she felt she had to try in this instance, since this was about her life!

“But why do I have to move? I know I’m safe at home. Nowhere could be safer than home!”

“Leda, you have to trust me. I’m your mother, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you? The very best thing for you is what I’m always after.”

The bus journey itself was pleasantly uneventful. Leda had a small bit of cash that her mother had sent with her for emergencies and a small green suitcase that she had never used before. Aunt Bea and Uncle Max were going to meet her at the bus stop and take her home with them. They were not much for talking and their movements, like their words, tended to be quick and efficient.

“Not much to the place. You’ll see once you get in. Suppose you'll find your own place soon enough.” Aunt Bea said this while getting into the passenger side of a taxi cab, and Uncle Max was putting the green suitcase in the trunk.

One week after arriving, Leda had found a job working as a dishwasher at a restaurant.The pay wasn’t great but she knew she had to start somewhere. She was hoping to get a chance to cook but she didn’t want to seem pushy about it.

On an evening when she arrived one hour early (she had nothing else to do) for her second ever day of work, she found out that the regular cook had unceremoniously quit just minutes before. If this was her one chance to cook, she was going to take it.

She approached her boss Ms. Ava, a small, almost shrunken older lady with gnarled hands on the countertop, a kerchief covering her hair and her dark eyes watchful.

“Ma’am” Leda started. “ Do you need a cook? I can cook.” It was not her most eloquent request but it was certainly straightforward.

Ms. Ava stood there looking at her, saying nothing.

Finally she said, “So you say you can cook. Alright then cook.”

Leda knew she was nervous, but now, she was also confused.

“Cook where? Now?”

“Yes.” Ms. Ava said. “Go on back and cook up your best thing. You’ll find everything you need. I’m going to sit up here and rest.” And she took a seat at the counter, which faced into the kitchen.

Before she could even think twice, or talk herself out of it, Leda was walking past Ms. Ava and heading into the small kitchen behind the counter..

Once in the kitchen, Leda quickly found the ingredients she needed. Her best thing was a stew that her own GiGi had taught her, and when she made it, she remembered her warm smile, how quick she was to tease Leda and the feeling of comfort.

When she was done, she brought a bowl of stew and a spoon to Ms. Ava at the counter. Ms Ava took a small taste, then finished the bowl. When she looked at Leda, she gave her a big smile and said, “Yes, you can cook”.

For the first time since starting her journey, Leda was overcome with relief. She had not realized until that moment how worried she had been for herself.

“You have a place to stay?” Ms Ava asked.

“I’m staying with my Aunt and Uncle until I can find a place”

“I have an apartment above this place. Nothing fancy but you can use it.”

Leda’s “Yes” burst out of her before she could contain it.

Leda moved in that night, after her first night working as a cook. She only had the one suitcase and her little black book to her name. She ended up living in that small apartment for years, and took over the restaurant when Ms. Ava passed away. Leda ran the restaurant for years until her health declined and she sold the restaurant and retired.

2018

Years passed and the restaurant eventually closed. A new owner bought the building and turned the former restaurant into a convenience store.

The owner was also renting the apartment above the store to one of his employees, 19-year old Lena. The apartment was something short of a dump but she appreciated it because of the cheap rent. A find in this city.

She had been working at the store and living in the apartment for 2 years now. When she was not working at the store, she worked at a small restaurant around the corner to gain experience cooking. Her dream was to attend a cooking school anywhere, but of course, ideally in France.

Lena was not as far as she wanted to be in her savings for school and she didn’t know what to do to get further ahead.

On her own since 15, she was used to the general challenge of making things happen for herself. She was comfortable making headway when it was her survival at stake. It was a lot more daunting when she was trying to fulfill a dream.

Today, she slumped into the apartment, her keys and backpack dropped to the floor by the door. The uneven, original hardwood floors were dingy with time and dust.

She walked a few steps from the door, to a tiny window seat underneath a tiny window. This was her favourite part of this apartment. The window seat was barely cushioned and very uncomfortable but it had this wonderful, green floral fabric covering it. She sat there every night from her first night in the apartment.

As she was walking to the seat, she tripped over a loose floorboard. Her hands went out in front of her and hit the front edge of the window seat, and she was startled even more when it didn’t quite break her fall as she expected. Rather it came apart in her hands and she fell to the floor with the cover of the window seat in her hands.

When she stood back up, she could see a shallow shelf that the seat was covering. Inside it was a small black book, maybe the size of her palm. Opening the first page of the book, she saw a single name: LEDA. For a minute she thought it said LENA and her breath caught until she looked again and saw the difference in spelling.

She paused to sniff the page. It smelled like a kitchen. Like cinnamon, or something that meant warmth. She suddenly felt like crying as she held the book and she didn’t know why.

The second page held a recipe for a stew. She didn’t have a lot of food in this apartment as she didn’t have much of a kitchen, but she thought maybe she might have enough on hand to make this stew. As she started cooking, she immediately felt at ease. When she tasted the stew, it felt familiar, but she was sure she had never had it before. It was a really simple dish. Maybe it was the combination of ingredients, but it felt so comforting to her.

While on break during her shift at the restaurant later that week, Lena was looking through a popular food magazine, when she saw an ad that caught her eye. The magazine was hosting their annual cooking competition with a prize of $20,000. Suddenly she thought: what if I entered? Could she really do this? She had nothing to lose, and possibly $20,000 to gain. Indeed, why not?

2019

Lena dedicated her first year of culinary school in France to the unknown, but wonderful Leda, who had helped make this dream come true.