She may not have enjoyed the food or the tea, but Honoree loved her new friends, especially Lil. Talking about the latest fashions, flipping through motion picture magazines, and shooting the bull, the Sunday afternoons and late-night gatherings had made the last couple of weeks the best weeks of Honoree’s life. How could she not want every day to be like the day before?
“I’m buying a house,” she announced to Bessie Sunday morning between bites of fried eggs and toast. “A bungalow like the one Lil and Louis Armstrong own—and on the same block. All I need is some money for a down payment.”
Honoree lifted a fork to her lips, watching for Bessie’s reaction. Not that her opinion had a ghost’s chance of changing Honoree’s mind, but somehow, if she agreed or disagreed, it would matter.
“Why don’t we throw a rent party?” Bessie blurted.
“Throw a party in the kitchenette and charge people to come over to eat and drink?” Honoree grinned. “What a wonderful idea!”
* * *
The Sunday morning after Thanksgiving, Honoree and Bessie prepared for the rent party. Racing through the kitchenette, Honoree felt like a chicken without a head. She’d told every musician, dancer, waiter, chorus girl, singer, and neighbor she knew. And most of them swore they planned to attend.
“Rosie from the Diamond Diner is bringing macaroni and cheese.” Standing over the kitchen table, Bessie shoveled down a spoonful of oatmeal. “She’s also making pork and beans, your favorite, and fried potatoes and fried chicken.” She swallowed the last of the oatmeal and gulped down a cup of coffee. “We can pay her after the rent party.”
“One pan of baked pork and beans and some chicken should go into Laura Lee’s flat. King Johnny will bring a couple of musicians. Kenny is loaning us his phonograph and a stack of new recordings. The band can play outside on the porch.” She stopped. What had she been searching for? “Now, Ezekiel promised to bring a case or two of whiskey. Maximilian said he’d borrow a jug of Mr. Buttons’s best beer.”
Honoree checked off items from the list in her head.
“I hate the smell of beer.” Bessie pouted. “You sure I can’t lie down for half an hour before they come?”
Sweet Lord. “Stop whining. You sleep eighteen hours a day, and a few hours less sleep won’t kill you.” Honoree untied one end of the clothesline. “You’re less than four months pregnant but behave as if you been pregnant for a year. You ain’t even showing.” She glanced at Bessie’s midsection. “Well, not much. Besides, Jeremiah will be here with the tables soon. You can show him where they go.”
“Who’s Jeremiah?”
“Ezekiel’s younger brother. He’s around my age. I think. Can’t recall exactly.” Honoree gathered a pile of clothes from the clothesline. When she finished folding them, she’d find a place to stow them. “I can’t wait to live in a house with a closet and a dresser drawer.”
“And an icebox and a stove with two burners.”
“You’re right.” Honoree gave up the search and placed the undergarments and other items on the kitchen table.
“Once you get dressed, take these clothes and the sewing baskets, except for the heart-shaped baskets, over to Laura Lee’s. She has an empty bin we can use.”
“What are you going to do with those?”
“Don’t worry about ’em. I’ll put them away.”
Bessie poured herself another cup of coffee. “How long have you lived here?”
“What made you ask me that?”
“I don’t know. You got so much old stuff here, like the Singer sewing machine, and the baskets—and the quilt your mama made. It reminds me of something I saw in a house down south. The quilt had been passed down, from grandma to daughter, mother to child.”
“I have no idea how old the quilt is, or who owned it before my mama. It doesn’t matter. I’ll take it with me when I leave.” Bessie’s questions bothered Honoree. Stirred up sentimental silliness she preferred to keep buried with all the old stuff that filled the kitchenette. “Since you have so many feelings about this old place, you can stay here when I move out.”
Bessie gasped. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean I didn’t want to come with you to the new house. I was only wondering if you were ready to go.” She twisted her lips to the side. “I’ll keep my mouth shut if you’re gonna fuss.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Now, go on and get dressed.”
Honoree had lived in the one-room flat since she was four years old and had a story for every corner, every piece of furniture, everything in the kitchenette. It all belonged to her. Even Bessie had become part of the furnishings. Still, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t move out as soon as she had the cash. It was time to let go of the past. “Is there any oatmeal left?”
“No,” Bessie said. “The macaroni and cheese will be here soon. We’ll have plenty of food.”
An hour later, they had washed and dressed when Jeremiah knocked on the door.
“Have you met my roommate, Bessie Palmer?”
A handsome young man, Jeremiah was of similar height and width as his older brother, Ezekiel. But his eyes most often sought the ground. “Ma’am.”
