Nydia nodded. “I know. But I like being busy.”
“Make certain you don’t become a workaholic like your mother.”
“I won’t. How many more years do you intend to stand on your feet cutting and blowing hair?”
“Three. I’ll turn fifty-seven in November, and before I celebrate my big six-oh I’m selling this place to the first person who comes close to my asking price. You mentioned cutting hair. Do you want me to trim yours before you leave?”
Nydia released her hair from the elastic band and combed her fingers through the thick, loose curls. Since she’d been downsized she had let her hair grow until it was only inches above her shoulders. “Cut it, Mami.”
Isabel lifted her eyebrows. “How short do you want it?”
“I’ll leave that up to you.” She trusted her mother to give her a style that required minimal upkeep.
“Don’t get up. I have to get my comb and scissors.”
Minutes later Nydia stared at her reflection in the mirror while her mother wet her hair with water from a spray bottle and then sectioned her hair. Isabel wielded a pair of scissors like the pro she was as strands of dark brown curls fell on the cape covering her clothes.
If she was going to have a new job in a new city, then she wanted a new look. Nydia had told herself she wasn’t running away but starting over. It had taken her thirty-three years to finally get her professional and personal life in synch. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
It was now mid-September, and she planned to return to New York to join her family for Thanksgiving, which gave her two months to adjust to not waking up to the sounds of vehicle traffic and the wail of sirens from first responders. Once she vacated the apartment she would not have to concern herself with venturing out in sleet, snow, and below-freezing temperatures. The exception was visiting her family during the Christmas season.
Her smile grew wider. She never could have imagined the day she was downsized from Wakefield Hamilton that she would become an innkeeper.
Chapter 12
Lamar activated the telephone’s speaker feature on the phone and then placed the receiver on the handset. He had spent the past five minutes trying to convince his partners not to put in a bid for a construction project to build a new shopping center in Lafayette. Resting his feet on the corner of the desk in his home office, he stared at the toes of the worn leather moccasins that had seen better days, but he was loath to throw them away before getting another pair to replace them.
“We’re stretched thin as it is, and to take on a project a hundred fifty miles away from home base is something we need to discuss in depth.”
“What is there to talk about it, Pierce? It’s only a strip mall,” Omar countered.
Lamar swore to himself. If he hadn’t put the two men on speaker, he would have placed the call on hold and really let loose. It was a rare occasion that he, Kirk Wallace, and Omar Robinson did not agree on whether to accept a project, and for Lamar this was one of those times. As the company’s construction manager he was responsible for traveling to construction sites to take care of any problems. He didn’t mind driving if it could be accomplished in one day; however, he had made it a practice to be home during the week whenever school was in session because it was his time to eat breakfast with his daughter.
“Whether large or small, it’s still a construction project that is geographically undesirable.”
“For who?” Kirk questioned.
“For me,” Lamar said. “Have you forgotten that I’m the one overseeing the sites and I’m also a single father?” His partners were married with children.
“What’s the problem, Pierce?” Omar asked. “You have a live-in housekeeper.”
“And you dudes have stay-at-home wives who get to see your kids off before they head out to school. In case you’re not aware of it, I have made it a practice to eat breakfast with my daughter and tell her that I love her before she walks out the door to get on the bus.”
There was a pregnant silence until Omar’s voice came through the speaker. “Man, I’m sorry. There are times when I forget Valerie’s gone.”
Lamar wanted to tell the man that he was so focused on making money that it had become a priority for him. There came a knock on the door, and he glanced up to find Kendra in the doorway. He picked up the telephone receiver, covered the mouthpiece with one hand, and beckoned her in. “What is it, sweets?”
“I didn’t know you were on the phone. I’ll come back later.”
“Stay.” He removed his hand from the mouthpiece. “Can we talk about this in the office tomorrow?”
“No problem.”
“Sure.”
Omar and Kirk had spoken at the same time.
Lamar hung up and rose to his feet. “What do you need?” he asked Kendra.
