Breakfast in Bed by Rochelle Alers (5)

Tonya climbed down off the stepladder and walked over to the bedside table to answer the telephone. She had spent most of the morning going through closets and selecting unused and outdated clothes and accessories she planned to donate to a neighborhood charity. She glanced at the display; the call was from her attorney’s office.

“Hello.”

“May I please speak to Ms. Martin?”

“This is she.”

“Ms. Martin, this is Ms. Stewart from Davis, Keen, and Harris. Mr. Keen has given his approval for your agreement with Mrs. McNair. You’ll get an email confirming this, along with the attached agreement. Do you have any questions?”

Tonya sat down on the side of her bed as her heart pounded a runaway rhythm. “No, I don’t.”

There came a pause from the other end of the connection. “Congratulations, Ms. Martin, on your new venture.”

“Thank you so much.”

She placed the receiver in the handset and fell back across the bed. It had taken her and Hannah several days to discuss the terms of the partnership agreement before she was willing to commit to invest in the DuPont Inn. Tonya wasn’t able to compete with Hannah when it came to the legalese; however, the business courses she had taken in college had given her an advantage as they revised the contract that would make her a part owner. Once approved by her attorney, Tonya would electronically transfer the agreed-upon amount from her bank to Hannah’s.

She picked up her cell phone and tapped the messages icon.

Within seconds, she got a reply from her daughter.

Every Thanksgiving she drove to Atlanta to pick up her daughter before traveling south to Florida, where they shared the holiday with her parents. Now that she was going to move to Louisiana, the drive would take hours instead of days.

Tonya slipped off the bed and made her way to the smaller bedroom her daughter had decorated like a studio apartment. An off-white sofa covered with Haitian cotton converted into a full-size bed, and a desktop computer and printer sat on a computer table. Bookcases packed with books and magazines spanned one wall, while another was decorated with framed movie posters and photos of Samara’s favorite movie and recording artists.

She sat down at the desk, booted up the computer, and then switched on the printer. As soon as she typed in her password to access the Internet, she saw the message from her attorney’s office. Tonya downloaded the cover letter and document, electronically signed and dated the agreement, and forwarded the signed document to Hannah for her signature before printing it.

When she had broached the subject of Nydia subletting the apartment, Tonya realized she had been somewhat premature, but now with the signed agreement she hoped her former co-worker would move in. Nydia had promised to come over later that afternoon to decide whether she wanted to sublet it for the following year. Rent for two bedrooms in the renovated East Harlem walk-up was high, but not as prohibitive when compared to other neighborhoods on the Upper West Side and East Side of Manhattan.

Tonya made two phone calls: one to her parents and the other to Darius. Her mother was overjoyed that they would be able to see each other more than two and occasionally three times a year. And instead of Tonya making the drive to Florida, the elder Martins planned to put New Orleans on their travel itinerary. After their retirement, her parents had sold their home in a New York City suburb, relocated to Daytona Beach, and moved into Ronald Martin’s ancestral home. However, the aging structure needed major repairs. He updated the three-bedroom house, sold it to a young couple, and then moved into an upscale fifty-five-and-over gated retirement community with onsite amenities that included a nine-hole golf course, swimming pools, tennis courts, resident medical personnel, and an in-house chef.

The call to Darius went unanswered, and Tonya left a voice mail message for him to call her. It was time she let the man she had been seeing for more than a year know that she planned to relocate. She exhaled an audible sigh and felt as if she had been released from an invisible prison. The instant she was told that her position as an assistant chef at Wakefield Hamilton had been eliminated, her mind had gone into a tumult.

Although she was given a generous severance package, that still did not belay her anxiety about her future. And despite her experience, Tonya loathed having to update her résumé and contact former co-workers about available positions.

It was only after Hannah invited her, Nydia, and Jasmine to join her at her Manhattan high-rise apartment for an early brunch that a strange calmness came over Tonya, as she was reminded that she was a highly skilled chef and her life was totally unencumbered. She had mailed off a check for Samara’s last year at Spelman College, she was debt-free, and the money she received in the severance package was enough for her to maintain her current lifestyle for more than a year.

Hannah inviting her, Jasmine, and Nydia to her apartment changed everything: her association with the other women, and now her future. Once Tonya had revealed she planned to take the summer off before looking for another position, Hannah invited her to come to New Orleans, and after some urging Nydia and Jasmine agreed to accompany Tonya and her daughter. It was during her first visit to New Orleans that Hannah asked her about investing in her business venture of converting DuPont House to DuPont Inn. She made Tonya an offer she found hard to refuse. If she invested in the inn, then she would maintain a twenty-five percent ownership in the business, along with operating an onsite café exclusively for inn guests and a supper club for the general public.

Hannah talked about a tentative opening date of next February, but her decision to install an elevator in the two-story house pushed back the opening until late summer or early fall. Tonya did not mind the delay, because it would give her more than enough time to acquaint herself with the local cuisine and interview, hire, and train her kitchen and waitstaff.

She left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. She had promised Nydia she would prepare dinner for her. She decided to prepare several Caribbean-inspired dishes: Cuban black bean soup, rice and pigeon peas, and chicken in a garlic sauce.

Tonya had just finished setting the table in the dining area when the intercom chimed through the apartment. She walked down a narrow hallway to the front door and tapped the button on the intercom panel. Nydia’s image appeared on the small monitor. She tapped another button, disengaging the lock on the downstairs door. One of the many perks in renting an apartment in the renovated building was security. Closed-circuit cameras were integrated within the intercom system and allowed tenants to see who was ringing their bell.

Tonya opened the door to her apartment and waited for Nydia to walk up four flights. A knowing smile parted her lips when she saw her friend momentarily stop midway up the staircase before continuing. “Shame on you,” she chided. “You’re too young to be winded.”

Nydia exhaled an audible breath as she slowly made her way to the landing. “I’m not used to walking stairs. I can’t believe you do this every day.”

She opened the door wider. “Sometimes I do it several times a day. Come in and sit down before you collapse.”

Nydia blew out another breath as she slipped her arms out of the straps of her leather backpack. She placed the backpack on the floor, hung her jacket on a wall rack, and kicked off her shoes and left them on a thick mat by an umbrella stand. “I see why you’re so slim,” she remarked as she walked the length of the hallway to the living/dining area. “Four flights aside, I must admit that you live on a wonderful block.”

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.”

“I know they did,” Tonya said in agreement, “because now it’s official. I’m going into business with Hannah.”

“Congratulations. I know you’ve been talking about running your own restaurant, and now that’s possible.”

“It’s not going to happen for a while, but at least I know it’s going to become a reality before the end of next year.”

Nydia’s eyelids fluttered wildly. “Are you saying you’re not going to move in January?”

Tonya rested an arm over Nydia’s shoulders. “I’m still moving. I’ve paid the rent through the end of January, so the increase won’t go into effect until February’s rent.” She removed her arm, walked to the desk, picked up a letter, and then handed it to Nydia. “Here’s what I’m currently paying. The other two figures are what I’d pay if I were to renew for one or two years.”

Nydia quickly did the computations in her head. Renewing for one year would almost triple what she was currently paying for her current apartment, but then she would have so much more for her money. And she could also write off a home office expense for the smaller bedroom. “Renew it for one year, and I’ll give you a bank check for the entire year.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” she argued softly. “I’d feel more confident knowing that it is one expense I don’t have to concern myself with.”

Tonya nodded. “I pay my rent online, so the first of every month I’ll send in the payment. Before you leave I’m going to introduce you to the building superintendent as my niece, so he won’t call the police when he sees you using keys to get into my apartment. If after a year you still want to live here, then I’ll have management put your name on the lease and the apartment will be yours. There’s talk of the building going co-op, so if you’re a current tenant then you’ll have the advantage of first preference when it comes to purchasing the unit.”

Nydia angled her head. Tonya had always wanted to run her own restaurant, while she always wanted to own property. “That’s something I’ll consider when the time comes.”

“Are you ready to eat and raise a toast to seal our deal?”

She hugged Tonya, while struggling not to get too emotional. It was the first time she would be in complete control of her life and her future. She had lived at home while attending college, and it wasn’t until she passed the CPA examination and secured the position at the investment bank that she was able to pay off her student loans. After that, she moved out of her parents’ apartment and into the three-family house. The rent for the studio wasn’t prohibitive, which had allowed her to save most of her salary. She had sacrificed by not going on vacation because her goal was to own property.

“Thanks, Titi Tonya.”

“There’s no need to thank me.”

Nydia blinked back tears. “You don’t know how my life will change once I move here.”

Tonya nodded. “I have an idea that it will be very good for you.”

“I have a favor to ask you, but if you don’t want to do it, then I’ll understand.”

Tonya’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“Would you mind if I move in earlier than January? Right now I’m paying my landlord month to month, and the woman is truly a witch. She clocks my every move, and I suspect she goes through my things when I’m not there.”

“You don’t have to tell me about folks clocking you, because I went through the same thing when I lived with my ex-husband’s aunt and uncle. You can move in anytime you want. It’ll be nice having someone to cook for other than myself.”

“And I’ll show you how to make some of the Puerto Rican dishes I picked up from my relatives who live on the island.”

“I just happened to make a few dishes you would be familiar with. But you’re going to have let me know if I get a passing grade with the rice and peas. When you made them when we were in New Orleans, I knew I had to try and make it myself.”

Nydia leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “If you can make good arroz con gandules, then you’re a badass.”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Tonya teased.

“Let me wash my hands, and then I’ll join you.”

Nydia walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She bit down on her hand to keep from screaming with joy. She had not lied to Tonya when she told her she was through with the man to whom she had given too many chances. Even if she had not secured a position in which she could utilize her education and skills, she was still grateful to be earning some money. After washing and drying her hands, she joined Tonya in the kitchen. Once the chef lifted the lid on the pot of rice and pigeon peas, she knew Tonya had hit the jackpot. The mouthwatering aromas wafting from the pot reminded her of Christmas when her extended family gathered together to celebrate the holiday where arroz con gandules, pernil, and pasteles were always on the menu.

“My abuela used to say once a woman could cook, then she was ready for marriage.”

Tonya made a sucking sound with her tongue and teeth. “Yeah, right. Been there, done that. Now it’s your turn.”

“I don’t see that happening for a while,” Nydia stated. “I’m going to listen to Jasmine’s advice and take the time to find out who I am and what I want. And right now that’s not a man.”

Tonya opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of chilled white wine. She handed Nydia a corkscrew. “You can open the wine while I put the first course on the table.”

* * *

Later, Tonya was sitting in bed reading the novel she wanted to finish to find out who had killed the beauty queen when her cell phone rang. It was Darius returning her call. She picked it up before it rang again. “Hello.”

“Hey, Tee. I just got your voice mail message.”

“I called you because I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I want to tell you in person.”

A sigh came through the earpiece. “I can’t come tonight, because I’m bone tired and I’m about to go to bed.”

“Then it can wait until we see each other.”

“Come on, Tonya. Let’s not play games. Tell me now or forget it.”

There was something in Darius’s voice that indicated something was bothering him, and because she never wanted to be his analyst, she decided not to ask. “I’m moving to New Orleans.”

“When did you decide this?”

Tonya closed the book. “I told you when I came back from New Orleans this summer that I was thinking of moving down there.”

“Thinking, Tonya! Thinking is a lot different from actually making a decision.”

She counted slowly to ten. “You’re right. And I’ve made a decision to move to New Orleans, because there’s nothing keeping me here.”

“What about me?”

“What about you, Darius?”

“Don’t I mean anything to you?”

“Yes. You’re my friend.” She wanted to tell him he would never be more than a friend because she could not see herself living with or being married to him. There were occasions when he would stop talking altogether, and Tonya would be forced to tell him to leave.

“I’m your friend because you won’t allow me to be more than that.”

Tonya bit back the acerbic words on the tip of her tongue. “You knew when we started seeing each other that I didn’t want a commitment.”

“That’s probably because you were sleeping with someone else whenever you told me you couldn’t see me.”

“Good night and good-bye.” She ended the call. Tonya did not want to believe Darius had accused her of cheating on him. She stared at the phone in her hand. Seconds later she blocked his number. He wasn’t able to get into her building unless she let him in, and luckily he didn’t have the number to her landline.

“Never again,” she whispered.

Tonya now knew for certain she had made the right decision to start over in a new state, where she could control her own destiny. She would become Eustace’s apprentice, and once she opened the supper club, she planned to incorporate what she had learned from him with the dishes she had perfected while working at other restaurants.

She opened the book again, and when she finally closed it she was shocked by the ending. The beauty queen’s murder wasn’t a murder but a suicide. All the clues pointed to her lover, who had refused to leave his wealthy wife to marry her. Tonya placed the book on the bedside table, turned off the lamp, and pulled up the sheet and blanket over her shoulders.

Nydia had given her an A-plus on dinner, while she promised to teach her how to make pasteles—tamales filled with pork, chickpeas, yucca, olives, capers, and other spices—mofongo, alcapurría, and coquito.

Sleep was elusive as Tonya found her mind filled with all that had happened earlier that day. She would become an innkeeper, Nydia planned to move in November first, and she had lost a lover. It’s all for the best, her inner voice reminded her. Once she believed in her instincts, she was able to fall asleep and not wake up again until ribbons of sunlight slipped between the slats of the window blinds.

* * *

She lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was a brand new day and the beginning of a new life for her. And in another three months she would leave her home state to put down roots in another one. She had told Darius there was nothing in New York to keep her there. Her parents were in Florida, and her daughter planned to live in Georgia. Moving to New Orleans meant she would be closer to her loved ones.

Sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Tonya headed for the bathroom humming her favorite song: “O Happy Day.”