A chill ran through Mia's body as she stepped out from her room into the kitchen. Glancing out the patio window, she noticed the leaves were beginning to transform into a brightened yellow. Fall had begun, marking six months since Mia's arrival to Maine in the springtime.

While the air was cold, Mia stepped out onto the patio anyway and glanced out over the trees. Autumn in New York had been beautiful, but there was something special about the way the seasons transformed in Maine. She was looking forward to feeling the crisp air on her skin again and watching the leaves fall from the branches.

The warmth immediately returned to her body when she stepped inside. A quiet meow grabbed Mia's attention. Fuji was sitting on the kitchen counter, a spot Mia knew he wasn't allowed to be, but considering he wasn't making a mess, Mia let him enjoy himself.

"I'm guessing you want dinner," Mia said.

Fuji meowed, clearly responding to her question.

Mia knew by now where Leila kept the cat food. She ignored the impatient tabby's cries as she placed some wet food in his bowl. He devoured it quickly, as only a few minutes after Mia got comfy on the couch, he was licking the sides of his mouth and walking over to the couch for his evening nap.

Mia was happy the cat at least tolerated being in the same room as her. He often came to her to beg for food on the days she was home in the evening, but he had not yet let her stroke him at all.

She turned and watched as Fuji curled up on one of the couch pillows. He looked content and peaceful. Cautiously, Mia began to move her hand toward him, wondering how he would react. He glanced up at her, not seeming to care, but as her fingers inched closer to his fur, he hissed. Mia immediately pulled her hand back.

As Fuji went back to sleep, Mia gazed toward the door. It was Leila's turn to make dinner tonight. Though they had fallen into an easy dinner routine, Mia often grew impatient on the nights she was alone in the apartment, waiting for Leila to come home. She seldom liked being left alone, especially now that she had a roommate she got along with.

Something had changed in the past month that she couldn't quite pinpoint. She'd been tormented in August by the fact she was growing comfortable in Maine. That feeling was always lurking beneath her skin, and yet, somehow she'd simply chosen to ignore those thoughts once the air grew cold.

Mia heard the usual finagling of the keys and saw Fuji's ears perk up. A moment later, Leila was opening the door, and Fuji sprinted from the couch to go greet her.

"Don't let him fool you. He's already eaten," Mia warned Leila.

"Ooh, you naughty boy. I see what you're doing," Leila said to Fuji as she knelt down and pet him. She glanced back up at Mia. "I was thinking of making a new pasta dish tonight if that's okay with you."

"Sure. I can help," Mia offered.

They later stood at the stove. The shrimp Leila was cooking sizzled in the pan while Mia slowly stirred some pasta sauce on a separate burner. Already Leila had lamented about her multiple meetings that had kept her from having as productive of a day as she wanted. Mia struggled to come up with anything interesting to share from her day, only that she was hungry and looking forward to dinner.

"How's work going with you?" Leila asked.

"Oh. It's fine. I think I'm more used to it now," Mia explained. "I haven't dropped a glass since the summer, at least."

"Hey, that is a big accomplishment," Leila said. "I'm sure I would've dropped a bunch of dishes if I were a waitress. Speaking of which, have you thought about other jobs?"

Mia stiffened.

"Sorry! That wasn't a way of telling you to get a corporate job or something. I actually have something for you," Leila said. She reached for her work bag sitting on the kitchen counter and pulled out a few pamphlets.

Mia took hold of them, noticing they were advertising different artist groups in Maine.

"It's not a job by any means, but there was a crafts fair going on when I went to get lunch, and I saw some of these. I figure at the very least it could be a good way to meet other artists," Leila said. "I just grabbed the painting and drawing ones, unless there's something else you like to do too."

"This is really thoughtful of you, Leila," Mia said, briefly glancing down at the pamphlets. "Thank you."

"Of course! I'll let you know if I come across anything else," she promised. She paused, then her eyes widened. "Oh, the shrimp's done!"

Later, they sat at the dinner table devouring the dish Leila had put together. It made Mia feel guilty that she was only good at making approximately three dishes, whereas Leila was always trying new recipes, but Leila had never complained. Besides, Mia knew she was a better cook than Julian, at least. He'd burnt toast too many times to count when she stayed over at his place.

"Is it good?" Leila asked.

Mia nodded enthusiastically. "You need to make it again sometime."

Leila smiled. "Then I will."

Later that evening, Mia crawled into bed. She felt full and happy as her bedsheets covered her body. She went to bed more often feeling content these days.

The next day, after Mia's work shift ended, she found herself taking an unexpected departure to the cemetery. It had been a few weeks since the last time she had visited, which was uncharacteristic of her. She figured her mom must be lonely, and though she had no flowers to bring, Mia hoped her company would be enough.

Mia had briefly considered waiting until another day when both she and Leila could go together. She knew Leila liked to tag along, but Mia decided that going alone today would be the best option given it had been a while since she had visited the gravesite by herself.

As Mia walked along the rows of graves, she noticed leaves were beginning to coat the ground of the cemetery. Mia realized suddenly that she'd never seen her mother's grave in the fall since they had taken off in a rush after her mom died in the spring. Mia was happy to see that the trees looked like they would be vibrant with fall colors as the season drew on. Her mother always liked autumn.

Mia's feet came to a halt at her mother's grave. She crouched down and wiped some debris from the marble stone.

"Hi, Mom. Sorry it's been a few weeks," she said. She slowly spread her legs out from under her and took a seat on the ground. "Sorry for no flowers either. Leila's always better at picking them out than I am. I want you to know that...that I've been doing better. I feel happier and safer now that I'm living with Leila," Mia explained. These were the thoughts that she felt too embarrassed to share with Leila next to her. She hoped her mother would be happy to hear this news, and yet, Mia still clenched her fingers.

"But...in all honesty, I still don't know what I'm doing," Mia explained. "I still haven't found a way to use my degree, and I won't live with Leila forever, and Julian and I are getting more serious now that we've dated for a while. I feel like it doesn't make sense to live here forever, not when I still don't feel you here like I thought you would."

The last words were uttered quietly, and already Mia felt the tears string her eyes.

Dammit. This is why I don't come here alone anymore. I always end up crying, Mia thought as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

The cemetery was quiet, save for the sound of leaves rolling across the ground. The wind swirled around Mia and tousled her hair. The clouds shifted suddenly, and the sun hit the marble just right, casting a reflection of Mia in the gravestone. She stiffened. For a moment, she swore she saw her mother. Then she realized the woman with long blonde hair staring back at her was just herself.

"I'll be back again soon," Mia said, gently touching the gravestone with her palm.

It was a struggle not to let the tears emerge as she drove back to the apartment, but she didn't want Leila to see her in this state, so she bit her lip with teeth and tried to focus on what she should make for dinner later.

When Mia returned to the apartment, Leila had already returned home from work.

"Oh, you're back early," Mia said.

"Yeah. I have to stay a little later tomorrow, so I thought I'd come home earlier today," Leila said. "Is everything okay?"

Mia had hoped she'd been hiding her grief well. She'd already checked in the car to make sure her eyes weren't red and puffy. How was it that Leila was still able to sense something was wrong?

"Can you cut my hair?" Mia asked shyly.

Leila looked at her, surprised. "What?"

"It's gotten long. I want to cut it again."

"I have a hair stylist I can recommend you—"

"It doesn't need to be fancy. If you're able to cut it, I'd be fine with that," Mia said. She tried not to make her tone so pleading, but it was hard not to speak about it with such urgency. "It can wait until after dinner. I know you're probably hungry—"

"No. That's okay. I'll cut it now," Leila said. "Um, why don't you take a seat in the kitchen? I probably have a towel I can drape around you."

Mia got comfortably seated on one of the chairs and draped a towel Leila had given her around her shoulders.

"Let me grab my handheld mirror. That way you can see if I'm doing it right," Leila said.

Mia nodded and watched a few moments later as Leila placed the mirror down across from Mia at the table. She turned to see Leila grab the scissors.

"How do you want it cut?" Leila asked.

"To slightly above my shoulders. Like where it was in the summer," Mia said. "I didn't realize it had already gotten down past my collarbone already."

"Okay," Leila said, uncertainty in her tone.

"Don't worry about making it perfect. I can touch it up if I need to," Mia said. "I just need the length shorter."

"Okay," Leila said.

Mia felt relaxed as Leila grabbed ahold of Mia's hair and began snipping. Mia sat quietly, watching strands of blonde hair fall to the floor below. She could tell Leila was concentrated, otherwise she wouldn't be so quiet.

"I visited my mom's grave on the way home from work," Mia admitted after Leila had been cutting for a while.

"Oh. Were you able to get her some flowers?" Leila asked.

"No. I'll have to next time," Mia said.

"I could've come with you," Leila said.

"I didn't want to trouble you," Mia explained. "Besides, I assumed you'd still be working."

Snip. Snip. Already Mia was beginning to feel the weight of her hair disappear.

"Why do you keep your hair short, if don't mind me asking?" Leila asked. "Your hair has practically been the same length since we were kids. I think it would look good grown out."

Mia only grumbled in response.

"Sorry. If you don't want to answer, that's fine—"

"I look like my mom with it grown out," Mia explained. "When I was at the cemetery today, I thought I saw my mom, but I realized it was only my reflection."

"Is that so bad?" Leila asked. "Your mom was beautiful."

Mia shrugged. "I don't know. When my hair is short, it just...I don't know. It makes me feel like time hasn't changed, like she's still alive and life hasn't gone on without her."

"Mia," Leila said, her voice concerned.

"It's stupid, I know," Mia complained.

"No, that's not what I was going to say," Leila said above her. "I understand you want to hold onto the memory of her as long as you can." She pulled the towel away from Mia's shoulders. "Go take a look in the bathroom and let me know if it looks okay."

Mia nodded and headed to the bathroom. She wiped a few tears from her eyes, hoping Leila hadn't noticed. Glancing into the bathroom mirror, Mia immediately felt relief. Her hair was at its usual length again. She was surprised she had let it grow out so much to begin with.

"Is it okay?" Leila asked when Mia walked back into the kitchen.

"You did a great job. I might touch it up a little later, if you're not too offended."

"Not at all," Leila said.

"I can sweep up the hair—"

"No, that's okay. I know you're already making dinner tonight. I can handle it," Leila said.

"Thank you," Mia said. She opened the fridge to start gathering ingredients for dinner when Leila spoke up again.

"For what it's worth, I think you'd look good with your hair grown out. I think your mom would think so too. Just a thought," Leila said before turning her attention back to sweeping.

"Thank you," Mia said quietly. She reached up and felt the strands of her newly cut hair. Could that be true?