But Terri wasn’t a rent-paying tenant like Gabriella, who had been thoroughly deceived by an outdated post. I apologized again.
She took a deep breath, and her pretty face softened a bit. “Mistakes happen.”
“Yes. They do. Maybe we can work something out?” I asked.
She crossed her arms and asked point-blank, “Do you cook?”
I felt like I was the one being interviewed now. “Not much. I mean, it’s just me, and I don’t eat much.” Even when it was just Eric and me, we probably threw out more food than we ate. A shame before God, my father would have said.
“What about cleaning?”
“I never go to bed with dishes in the sink,” I stated. “Not so much as a fork.”
Gabriella tilted her head slightly, her eyes reflecting deep thought. “Golden kitchen rule.”
My body buzzed with panic. What if she left? I’d have my first month in the new place with no rent money from a tenant. My plans couldn’t fall apart this quickly, could they?
Yes, they could. This could all backfire, just as Eric had said it would.I’m not trying to scare you, but you’re going to find out what a cold, hard world it is out there without me, Joyce. I don’t want that for you.
Maybe he’d been right. If I’d been a woman with a husband, those contractors might not have been so quick to ask for more money, and then I wouldn’t be standing there, wringing my fingers behind my back and hoping this young lady wouldn’t walk out the door with her cooking aspirations and her rent money in tow.
Gabriella sighed. “I’m already packed up. And I need this fresh start.”
I’d been frozen for so long, I felt my eyelids creak when I finally blinked back to life. “Welcome, Gabriella.” I thrust her key at her.
She took it. “Gracias. I’ll start unpacking.”
I nodded, glad we’d come to something reasonable. If it meant I had to live like a hotel resident for a while, fine. Sandwiches and small meals and fast food, fine. Because I could not make a fool of myself in front of my ex-husband and my daughter, and even my own self.
Chapter 3
Nothing beats the smell of bacon and eggs in the morning. Unless you’re a vegan, I suppose. Seems like everybody’s trying to make everything taste like what they really want to eat. A brownie with real, natural cane sugar can’t be worse than one made with synthetic chemicals. I’m just saying—if you’re gonna eat a brownie, eat a brownie.
Clearly, Gabriella was one of the actual meat-eating cooks, from the aroma that easily strolled down the hallway, under my bedroom door, and into my nostrils like we were old friends catching up with one another.
“Mornin’, Li’l Joy!” it greeted me as though my very own grandmother were in the house again. Except there was the distinct smell of cilantro.Blaxican.
I washed up and made my way to the kitchen, hoping to at least get a look at what Gabriella had cooked. “Good morning,” I said to her.
She looked up from the sink, where suds crawled up her arms as she washed dishes the old-fashioned way. “Good morning.”
“Smells good.”
“I made enough for two, if you want,” she said with a brief smile.
The cheese melting on top of the egg left me no choice. “Thank you. Looks delicious, too. What is it?”
“It’s a mix of chilaquiles and cheesy grits—something my grandmothers used to make, in their own ways. One was Black, from Georgia, and the other was Mexican, from Veracruz. I grew up eating both, and this is kinda like a blend of the two worlds. A little homage to both of them.”
I took a bite, and the flavors exploded—creamy, sharp cheese with the slight crisp of tortillas, balanced with the rich softness of the eggs. The grits were smooth and buttery, while the spice from the salsa brought the dish to life.
I laughed. “This does taste like one foot in the South and the other across the border.”
“Exactly.” Gabriella showed all thirty-two teeth. “I love it when people enjoy my food.”
“Well, consider yourself thoroughly in love, because you’ve got a fan in me.” All my manners slipped away as I licked the last bits of salsa and cheese. It seemed a waste to allow even one drop of flavor to sit on a napkin.
“Thank you very much. But I’m going to need more space.”
