“Yet you recognized me.”
“Of course,” Roe’s grandmother—Nettie—interjected. “How many young, gorgeous blond men do you think we see here? All we have are a bunch of oldies complaining about their hemorrhoids.” She wrinkled her nose as I struggled to keep a straight face. “Besides, we know you and Monroe had a talk. He was in our apartment when you buzzed. We didn’t want to wait around or snoop at the door, so we went out for our lottery tickets before it got too dark.”
The laughter bubbling out of me drained away, but as Nettie and Deborah waited expectantly, I realized they wanted me to spill my guts.
So not happening.
“We did, and now I’m on my way home.”
With that same direct stare, Nettie said, “I’m glad you two reconciled. It’s never too late.”
At Nettie’s frank words, all the bitterness of the argument with Roe rushed over me. “Well, in this case it might be. In the grand scheme of things, I don’t think we were meant to be friends. Sometimes it’s better to let things remain as they were. What’s the old expression? Let sleeping dogs lie.”
Itching to leave, I had the sinking sensation I was trapped and not going anywhere until I told them what they wanted to hear.
“So it’s not just Monroe, then. It’s both of you.Narrishkeit.Two smart men who act like dummies.”
That stung, but I respected her age and wouldn’t answer back. “I don’t think so. It’s knowing that what was at seventeen no longer exists at forty.”
Wanting to change the subject, I pointed at the bunch of lottery tickets in Deborah’s hand. “Did you win?” I pointed at the tickets.
“I won’t know until I get upstairs, but I’m feeling lucky tonight.” She tipped her chin to the door. “Come up and have some coffee with us.”
Coffee. With Monroe’s mother and grandmother after he and I had said such terrible things to each other.This crazy evening was brought to you by Ezra Green’s inability to say no.
“Thank you, but I should be getting home.” I scrubbed my hands over my face.
“You’re married?” Nettie asked. “I see a ring.”
“No. It was a friend’s.”
Like a sparrow, Nettie cocked her head, that birdlike gaze intent. “You have a date?”
“N-no, but—”
“No buts. I know you’re thinking, what do these two old ladies want? But we have a secret weapon I know you don’t have waiting for you at home.”
Despite my bad mood, chatting with them was turning out to be more fun than any party I’d been to in weeks, and I laughed. “Is that so? What is it?”
“You know, I play poker, and the first thing I learned was, never put all your cards on the table. So if you want to know, you’ll have to come upstairs. Besides, I don’t need these nosy people butting into our business.”
Ironic coming from her, and I had to press my lips together to keep the laughter inside.
Nettie scanned our surroundings. Four eight-story redbrick buildings sat around a large cement square that formed the courtyard of the co-op Monroe’s family lived in. At the edge of the complex was the bodega where Roe and I used to stop and get snacks before coming upstairs, and I assumed it was where Nettie and Deborah went to get their lottery tickets. Randomly placed wood-and-iron benches provided seating for the residents, and though they tried to brighten up the place with flowers and greenery, it remained what it was: an ugly concrete jungle.
“You see?” She pointed to several people walking slowly toward us, either with canes or holding on to their own wagons. “They’re coming. As soon as they see me talking to someone, the tongues start wagging. We need to escape. Come with us.”
It was like the march of the octogenarians. With a determined step, she moved past me, passing theNO SOLICITATIONandNO TRESPASSINGsigns screwed into the crumbling brick. Like a dutiful child, I trailed after her, Deborah at my heels.
For the second time that night, I entered Monroe’s building, but this time it was to go to his family’s apartment. Being there again was like entering a time warp, and I remembered every detail from the past, from the pictures of Monroe’s relatives set on the shelves of the old wooden bookcase, down to the lamps sitting on lace doilies, the shades yellowed with age and with their smiling, naked china cherubs on the base. Funny how this space felt like home to me, where I had a hard time remembering my parents’ beautifully decorated apartment.
The kitchen boasted newish appliances, and I wondered if Monroe had bought them and why I gave a damn.
“Sit, please. Deborah, make us some coffee while I chat with Ezra.”
Discomfort filled me, and I remained standing. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come up and interrupted your night.”
With her coat, hat, and scarf off, Nettie appeared diminutive, yet I sensed great strength in her. “Did you forget I did the inviting? I thought I was the one with memory issues. Now sit next to me. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” It was all said with good humor, so I relented.
