Tonya smiled. Trees lining both sides of the street shaded brownstones and several townhouses and two four-story apartment buildings “Walking stairs helps me to keep in shape.”
Nydia glanced at her over her shoulder. “How much weight did you lose?”
“Twenty-five pounds. The year before I turned fifty I decided it was time to stop talking about going on a diet and actually do it. But it wasn’t easy when you cook for a living.”
Nydia sniffed the air. “Something smells good. In fact, it smells like something my mother would make.”
“It’s chicken in a garlic sauce.”
“Do you cook every day?”
“I try not to. Whenever I cook I usually make enough to last for at least two days. By the third day I want something different.” Tonya pointed to a chair in the living room’s seating grouping. “Please sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”
* * *
Nydia sat on an armchair with animal print cushions. The furnishings in the living/dining area reminded her of the interior of an African hunting lodge. A zebra-print rug covered the glossy parquet floor; the off-white sofa and matching loveseat cradled throw pillows covered in colorful animal prints.
“I’ll just have water, please.”
Sinking lower in the chair, Nydia closed her eyes for several seconds. If she moved into Tonya’s apartment, then everything would change for her. She was currently renting a furnished studio apartment in a private house in the Bronx where the landlady monitored everyone coming and going. A few times the woman complained that she did not want Nydia having men spend the night at her apartment. And she countered that she did not have a trail of men coming to see her, just one man and he was her boyfriend. But lately she had not thought of him as her boyfriend, because she could not depend on him to take care of himself. He lived with his sister and was unable to save money, which meant she would be responsible for paying all their bills. Her father had preached repeatedly that a man should always pull his own weight and not depend on a woman to take care of him.
Tonya returned and handed her a glass of water. “After you finish your water, I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
She took a long swallow, and then placed the water on a glass coaster resting on the kente cloth runner spanning the length of the mahogany coffee table. “I’m ready now.”
Nydia followed Tonya through the living room and dining area and down a hall. She peered into a bathroom with a claw-foot tub, shower stall, pedestal sink, and commode. The colors of seafoam-green and pale yellow, along with potted plants on the window ledge, gave the space a tropical appearance. The shelf below a low table held a collection of towels in tropical colors of pink, green, yellow, and pale blue. Candles in the corresponding colors crowded the top of the table.
The bedroom was only feet from the bathroom. She stared at an iron off-white queen-size bed, double dresser, and matching bedside tables. Nydia smiled. The entire room was decorated in white with varying shades of blue ranging from cornflower to robin’s egg, from the pale walls with a border embossed with tiny blue flower buds to the blue-and-white-striped linens and quilt.
“I love it.”
Tonya nodded. “As you notice, I’m somewhat of a minimalist. I really don’t like clutter, even though there is enough space for a bench at the foot of the bed and a corner chair.”
“There are times when less is more.”
“You’ll probably like Samara’s room, because she’s even more of a minimalist than her mother.”
When Nydia walked into Samara’s bedroom, she knew exactly what Tonya was talking about. “This is the perfect office.”
“The sofa converts into a bed.”
“I’ll use it as a sofa rather than a bed because I don’t intend to have company.”
Tonya gave her a sidelong glance. “What about your boyfriend?”
“I’m really done with him. After we had that conversation the day before Hannah’s wedding, I knew I was fooling myself hoping, wishing, and praying that Danny would change into someone I wanted him to be. And I don’t want to go into a situation where I have to fight with him about money.” She paused. “I love your apartment and the neighborhood, so I’m ready to move in whenever you give me the word.”
“Don’t you want to know what the rent is?”
Nydia shook her head. “I don’t care how much it is. I still have the money from my severance, and I have more saved. Right now I’m doing the books for a guy who owns a restaurant in City Island and here in East Harlem.”
“How did you get the job?”
“My cousin works for him, and he put in a good word for me after his boss’s accountant passed away. Not only am I doing his books, but I’ll also prepare his employees’ tax documents.”
Tonya flashed a dimpled smile. “Good for you. Now, how does it feel to work for yourself?”
Nydia scrunched up her pert nose. “It feels real good, because I can make my own hours. I go to each restaurant once or twice a week to pick up the receipts and timecards. Then I go back to deliver payroll checks. Now that I look back, I believe Wakefield Hamilton did us a favor when they laid us off.”
