Giselle sat in front of the TV in the living room with an empty plate on her lap and her legs under a thick, woollen blanket. The plate wasn't quite empty yet, she realised and pressed her index finger at the scone crumbs. They vanished in her mouth and a pleasant taste spread with them. They were a little sweet and salty. Scones were a peculiar pastry, but they reminded her of the good old times.

Her mother had gone shopping for the weekend. When Giselle had offered to tag along, the woman had forced her onto the sofa and told her to get some rest, and some distraction. Some of her own anger at Ian was gone now, after hearing her mom curse the man with words, she hadn't ever heard and only remembered them from classics and other old books from her youth. Thinking about it again made her chuckle. And despite how fucked up her life was, not to mention how her separation from Ian had gone, between Annie, Carry, Laury and her mother she had been safe. No matter how dark and mean it got, she had friends and family.

"Hello, I'm Greg Davies and this is Taskmaster"

The TV took back her attention and she felt quite lucky that a Friday afternoon reran four episodes in a row. It wasn't her favourite show, but it sure was entertaining. She pondered about getting another scone but decided against it. Her mom would make dinner soon. Compared to her lover, who ate late, after returning from work, someone who went to bed early and lived in a paid off house in the first years of their early retirement, dinner would be served rather timely. A small pling distracted her.

Laureen Munroe: "Hey Giselle! I hope things went well today! Mr Dean told me to ask you whether you could look at the apartment tomorrow after work. He also said that most likely you'd need to decide tomorrow on the spot. The lady who rents it out sounds creepy. She'll only rent to someone who she likes. What the fuck. Anyhow, please send me a text as soon as you can!"

Giselle's eyebrows rose into the air and then she shrugged at no one in particular.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Giselle: "Sure. I'm desperate and this is brilliant news! What's the address?"

The response came in barely a minute later. Unfortunately she had already missed the important part of the show, which was the items that every guest would bring in.

Laureen Munroe: "It's almost next to my place, as it turns out. 31 Fairbanks Road. Guess I'll be driving you?"

Giselle: "Oh wow, what a coincidence. Thanks Laury :heart:"

A moment later, her message had another heart emoji attached as response and she decided to send a message to Annie. Part of her wanted to walk over and snuggle up to the woman. It was silly of course. Annie didn't live next to her mother's place, nor was she already home. The blonde had a tough day, probably still fought against management and heaven knows what other challenges. Regardless of that, the brunette asked her girlfriend to come to the place. Maybe with both of her friends, she'd be able to leave a decent impression. Such a weird criteria for a tenant wasn't too exotic, but in her search for a place she hadn't come across anything similar.

Her lower lip felt quite sore now. Giselle had chewed on it while mulling the visit to the apartment over in her head until her mom unlocked the door. She got up and helped stash two bags of groceries. Most fit into the pantry and fridge and it took the two women barely five minutes. Then it was time to lay the good news on her mother. Both smiled brightly. "I'm so happy for you! This Mr Dean has been taking good care of you ever since you started to work there! He sounds like a very decent man!", her mother conveyed her traditional perspective on the world. Decent, taking good care, none of these were descriptions that anyone below 50 used nowadays. Giselle just chuckled and shrugged, "Maybe, but it doesn't matter. I still have to pass the test". "And how will you do that?", her mother asked while unloading half of the pantry onto the working space to prepare dinner. "I'll bring my secret weapon of course!", Giselle had a playful, but very theatrically evil grin on her lips. "You secret weapon! Are you going to buy chocolate?", her mom took a serious guess and glanced at her daughter with a very irritated stare. "No, I'll bring Laury! Well, her and Annie". "You mean Laureen, the bad influence that works with you in that store?". Why do old people always have to be so judgemental about everything they do not immediately understand? It had been once that Laury and her had gotten drunk and asked to be picked up since Ian had been out of town. Good grief. Parents.