Chapter 9
Nydia was startled when the buzzing of the intercom echoed through the apartment. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was almost eight-thirty. Lowering her feet, she stood up and walked to the door. The intercom rang several times a day since the fiasco at El Rincon, and whenever she activated the video feature she saw a face that was totally unfamiliar to her and suspected it was a reporter.
Pressing the button on the panel, she gasped when Lamar’s face appeared on the video intercom. He’d said he was sending her a surprise, and Nydia never would have guessed that he would deliver it in person. She pressed another button and disengaged the lock on the door leading into the building’s vestibule.
Nydia still did not want to believe all that had happened in the span of five days: she’d been blindsided with a shocking marriage proposal; stalked by reporters and paparazzi looking for gossip about her and Danny Ocasio; and footage of her as his runaway fiancée had appeared on prime-time and cable entertainment news stations. Now she was reluctant to leave her apartment because she didn’t know who was waiting to snap her picture or ask for an interview.
Her parents wanted her to come and stay with them, but she’d refused their offer. Her stubborn streak had surfaced when she told her mother she wasn’t going into hiding. She would remain at her apartment until all of the hoopla died down.
Hannah and Tonya had also called to offer their support, while Jasmine asked if she wanted Cameron to reserve a private charter to fly her to New Orleans. She thanked her friends and reassured them she was counting down the days to when the entire incident would become old news.
Nydia opened the door and smiled. Lamar had stopped halfway up the stairs, seemingly trying to catch his breath. Her heart rate quickened when his head popped up. She couldn’t see his eyes behind a pair of sunglasses, and he’d covered his head with a black New Orleans Pelicans’ cap. He hadn’t shaved, and the stubble appeared more gold than gray against his rich mahogany-brown face. And she liked seeing him casually dressed in a pair of black jeans, matching pullover and running shoes. His black attire made him appear taller and slimmer.
“Come on. You can make it,” she teased, as he slowly made his way up the staircase to the fifth-floor landing.
Lamar shook his head. “I can’t believe you do this every day.”
“I must confess it took me more than a month before I was able to come up without stopping on the third floor to catch my breath. Please come in and sit down before you fall down.”
Lamar dropped his carry-on and sat on the padded bench seat in the entryway and slipped out of his running shoes. He stood, removed his cap and glasses, and then lowered his head and kissed Nydia’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Her eyes lingered on the slight cleft in his chin. He was more handsome than she’d remembered. “You should’ve told me that you were my surprise.”
“Are you disappointed?”
“Oh, no,” Nydia said much too quickly. She grasped his free hand. “I’m glad you came, because I could use someone impartial other than my family to talk to. They’re like rabid dogs chomping at the bit to take Danny apart.”
“I’m not that impartial, Nydia. I’m certain if I would’ve been with you when that buffoon blindsided you I would’ve clotheslined him where he’d never sing again. Who proposes to a woman with whom you haven’t had a relationship in a year?”
Nydia laughed freely for the first time since Monday night. “I never thought you would resort to violence.”
He winked at her. “Nerds can get gangsta, too.”
She was still attempting to deal with Lamar flying up from New Orleans to be with her during what had become a stressful time in her life, and she was also amazed at the thrill she had felt when seeing his image on the video intercom.
Looping her arm through Lamar’s, she steered him in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m glad you’re here. How long are you staying?”
“I’m flying back tomorrow night.”
“I know they didn’t feed you on your flight, so I’m going to make breakfast for both of us.”
“I need to wash up first.”
Nydia released his arm. “I’ll take you to the bathroom.” She led him through the living room and dining area and down a hall. “Take your time. By the way, how do you like your eggs?”
“Over easy.”
* * *
Lamar entered the bathroom and closed the door. The instant he noticed the dark circles under Nydia’s large hazel eyes he knew she hadn’t been sleeping well. Even before boarding the flight departing New Orleans, Lamar had asked himself several times whether he was doing the right thing flying to New York. After all, Nydia had friends and family to support her, so was showing up at her place unannounced an exercise in futility? But seeing her smile when she opened the door had defused his apprehension.
He glanced around the bathroom as he washed his hands in the pedestal sink. There was a claw-foot tub, shower stall, 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.
Lamar dried his hands, walked out, and peered into the bedroom only a few feet away from the bathroom. The entire space 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. His gaze lingered on the off-white queen-size iron bed, double dresser, and matching bedside tables, and he wondered if Nydia’s ex had shared the bed with her.
He shook his head to rid it of the image of Nydia sleeping with a man. She’d openly admitted she wasn’t in a relationship, and he wondered what her ex had done for her to stop seeing him. Lamar had come to see Nydia to lend her emotional support, and also to get to know her better. He wanted to uncover why he was drawn to her when it hadn’t been that way since he had become a widower. He liked women—a lot—although he wasn’t drawn to a particular type.
Some men preferred women with a particular hair color or texture; others a certain height, weight, and body type. But when it came to a woman Lamar was a blind sculptor who couldn’t see, but could smell, touch, and hear. For him it was her feminine scent, the silkiness of her skin, and the timbre of her voice and laugh. Nydia Santiago had scored high where others had struck out, and when he factored in her intelligence, she was a perfect ten.
He reversed his steps and lingered in the living/dining area. The furnishings were reminiscent of an African hunting lodge. A zebra-print rug covered the glossy parquet floor and the off-white sofa and matching love seat cradled throw pillows covered in colorful animal prints. Nydia’s apartment was immaculate and meticulously decorated.
He stood at the entrance to the eat-in kitchen watching Nydia as she filled a saucepan with water. She appeared delicate, almost fragile, in a pair of black leggings, oversize tee, and black ankle socks. The hair flowing around her face and ending at her shoulders reminded him of long chocolate Twizzlers.
“Do you need my help?”
She looked up and smiled. “Do you cook?”
“Not very well,” he admitted sheepishly. “But I can set the table.”
Nydia pointed to an overhead cabinet. “The cups and plates are in there. And the silverware is in a drawer under the countertop.”
Lamar opened the cabinet door. “What’s on the menu?”
“I thought we’d have a Southern breakfast with grits, eggs, biscuits, and sausage gravy.”
He froze. “What do you know about a Southern breakfast?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “This Boricua knows how to cook more than just Latin food. I shared this apartment a couple of months before Tonya moved to New Orleans, and she taught me how to prepare Southern food, while in turn I did the same with Spanish dishes.”
“The pasteles you gave me didn’t last a week.”
Nydia stared at him, complete surprise freezing her features. “You ate a dozen pasteles in a week?”
Lamar laughed as he removed plates and cups from the cabinet. “No. I had help. I gave my daughter and housekeeper a little piece to see if they liked it, and that was all she wrote. Then I had to boil a couple for them. Three days later, there were none. I’ve eaten a lot of pasteles, but yours were the best I’ve ever had.”
“I’ll definitely tell Abuelita that she has another fan. Whenever we used to tell Abuelita that she made the best pasteles in the whole wide world, she would give us a sly smile and then say, ‘Yo sé.’ My mother would try to get her to say thank you instead of ‘I know,’ but Abuelita knows her pasteles are the bomb.”
“They are definitely going to be a hit with the locals when Tonya adds them to her menu,” Lamar stated.
“Everything she and Gage prepare will be a hit.”
Lamar had to agree with Nydia. Chez Toussaints was renowned when it came to serving Cajun and Creole dishes to diehard customers, but with professional chefs Gage and Tonya Toussaint opening their own restaurant in the Garden District and offering an eclectic international menu, the family’s reputation was certain to soar beyond the environs of the Big Easy.
“Are we eating in the kitchen?”
“No. You can set the table in the dining area.”
Lamar busied himself setting plates, glasses, cups and saucers, serving pieces, and napkins on the table with seating for four. He hadn’t learned to cook well, but he did know how to set a table for formal or informal dining. His mother had given up on him when he refused to grasp the steps that went into preparing a meal, so she assigned him the task of setting the table.
He returned to the kitchen as the distinctive aroma of sausage wafted to his nostrils. “That smells delicious.”
Nydia smiled at him over her shoulder. “Tonya turned me on to a local butcher who makes his own sausage. My favorites are country sage and cheese and garlic.”
Leaning against the entrance, Lamar crossed his arms over his chest. “You and Tonya were roommates?”
Nydia gave him a quick glance. “Only for two months. We were like college students sharing a dorm. We stayed up late, and slept even later the next morning. We’d go down to Washington Square farmers’ market or to the Hunts Point produce market in the Bronx to shop for ingredients we couldn’t find locally. Last Christmas when my grandmother wanted to make pasteles I told her I would shop for the ingredients. I called the butcher and placed an order for Boston butt and pork bones for the stock, and Abuelita raved about how much better they tasted. I’ve volunteered to buy everything she needs to make them this year. When you and your daughter come up for Christmas, I want you to be prepared not to get much sleep. The house will be loud and noisy with Nelson and Joaquin’s kids underfoot. The women will do most of the cooking, while the men hang out together in Nelson’s man cave watching and talking sports all day and half the night.”
“I’m really looking forward to it. I told Kendra we were coming up here for Christmas, and she nearly blew out my eardrum when she screamed.”
“How long do you plan to stay?” Nydia asked him.
“How long do you want us to stay?”
“Christmas is on a Tuesday this year, so why don’t you come up either late Friday or Saturday. We always have a Christmas Eve banquet and at the stroke of midnight we open gifts. Christmas Day is for sleeping in late and eating what is left over. I’d like to plan a few outings for the girls for that week before you and Kendra return home.”
“I’m willing to pay for the outings.”
Nydia shot him a withering glance. “That’s not happening.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry about that.” It was apparent he’d put his foot in his mouth without thinking of the consequences. Nydia hadn’t mentioned money. Lamar recalled Nydia telling him she was subletting Tonya’s apartment, and he wondered for how long she planned to live here. “When does the lease expire?” he asked, verbalizing his thoughts.
“January thirty-first.”
“Are you going to renew it?”
Nydia concentrated on breaking up the sausage meat into little pieces with a wooden spoon. “No.”
He stood straight. “Where will you live?”
She turned and gave him a direct stare. “I’m moving to New Orleans. I’ve decided to invest in Hannah’s inn, so we’ll probably get to see each other in our travels about the city.”
Lamar stared at Nydia, speechless for what seemed an eternity when in reality it was seconds. When she told him about her former coworkers investing in the DuPont Inn he’d wanted to encourage her to join them, because there was no doubt they would be formidable partners in a city with too few women owning and running their own businesses. And he also had a selfish reason for wanting her to relocate: it meant he could see her again.
His outward calm belied his inner excitement knowing he and Nydia would live in the same city. “I’m certain we’ll run into each other. When do you plan to move?”
“I’m going to wait until after Christmas, that is if Tonya’s daughter doesn’t need the furniture in the apartment before that time. Samara was planning to move into a new apartment complex while attending grad school, but there was a delay in the construction. Right now she’s staying with her future in-laws. If I’d decided to stay here, I was going to rent furniture. Jasmine had promised to decorate for me, but that was before she got involved with Cameron.” She lowered the flame and placed a lid on the frying pan. “Do you know what I find strange?”
“What, Nydia?”
“Last May Jasmine, Tonya, and I decided to take the summer off after we were downsized. Hannah already had plans to return to New Orleans for her fortieth high school reunion. Meanwhile, months before, she’d begun the process of converting her ancestral home from a residence to a business, so the impact of her not having employment differed from the rest of us. We all came down for a visit in July, and during that time Tonya committed to opening a café and supper club in one of the guesthouses on the property. And that meant she was leaving the crew. Then Jasmine meets Cameron at Hannah’s wedding, and the rest is history. I was the last holdout, and even if I hadn’t committed to invest before the debacle with Danny, it would have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“What do they say about best-laid plans?”
She smiled. “It’s apparent they were made to be broken.”
Lamar walked into the kitchen and put his arms around Nydia’s waist and eased her closer. “It’s karma. Or as some say it was predestined. People come and go into and out of our lives for a reason.”
Tilting her head, she stared up at him. “Are you saying that crazy shit between me and Danny was destined?”
Lamar nodded. “Yes. If it hadn’t happened then I wouldn’t be standing here with you. I would’ve had to wait for Christmas to see you again.”
She lowered her eyes. “Why did you come?”
“Once I saw your face when that reporter came out of nowhere, and after talking to you and hearing the pain in your voice, I knew I couldn’t stay away.”
“Why, Lamar?”
“For a very bright woman you have to ask me why?”
Her arms circled his waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I asked because I’d like an answer.”
“Remember you telling me that Cameron took one look at Jasmine and he lost his natural-born mind? Well, it was the same with me. The day Jasmine brought you to the worksite to show you the loggia, I felt as if I’d lost more than my mind.” Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear the effect she’d had on him.
Nydia started to laugh and couldn’t stop as she sagged weakly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “But I didn’t expect you to disclose that.”
Lamar frowned. “It’s not that funny, because I was in pain.”
She covered her mouth with her hand as she continued to laugh. “I had no idea you rushed off to get hard hats because you didn’t want us to see your hard-on.”
His expression was impassive. “At least I’m man enough to admit just looking at you was a turn-on.”
Nydia sobered. “And I am woman enough to say that although I was flattered when you stared at me, you also made me feel uncomfortable.”
“How so?” he asked.
“Because I’d never had a man look at me the way you did. I didn’t feel it was lust, but more like curiosity.”
Tightening his hold on her waist, Lamar molded her body to his. “It’ll never be about sex between us, because that’s something you can get from any man.”
“What is it you want from me?” she whispered against his sweater.
“Just you, Nydia, because you make me feel things I’d forgotten existed. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a woman’s company.”
“Are you saying you haven’t dated since losing your wife?”
“Not in the traditional sense.”
“Which means you sleep with women?” Nydia asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you slept with one since meeting me?”
“No.” He hadn’t sought out nor had he thought about another woman since Jasmine introduced him to Nydia.
“Thank you for being honest with me.”
“I will never lie to you.”
“Or I to you,” she admitted. Pushing against his chest, Nydia extricated herself from his embrace. “I have to make the biscuits.”
Lamar felt her loss immediately. He’d enjoyed the warmth of her body seeping into his and inhaling the scent of coconut on her hair. He sat on a stool and watched as she moved comfortably around the kitchen, checking on the grits and sausage.
He noticed the single-serve coffeemaker on the counter. “Do you mind if I brew a cup of coffee?”
Nydia smiled at him. “Of course not. It’s not the chicory blend you’re used to.”
Lamar slipped off the stool and plucked a coffee pod from the carousel. “I only drink café au lait when I eat beignets.”
“I told my mother I’m going to have to trade in my bagel with cream cheese and light and sweet coffee for beignets and café au lait once I move to New Orleans.”
“How did your parents take the news you’ll be leaving the Big Apple for the Big Easy?”
“My mother was always very supportive, because she’s an advocate of female-owned businesses. She’s operated her own hair salon for twenty-five years. My father was against me moving until this craziness with Danny and his people. Now he thinks it is better I leave. Papi is really laid back, but if anyone messes with his pequeña muñeca, or little doll, as he used to call me, then he’s not so easygoing. History has repeated itself with my brother and his daughters. Nelson is currently a sergeant with the NYPD, and he’s like a live grenade. He went ballistic when he heard about the TMZ tape, but I managed to calm him down.”
Lamar gave Nydia a sidelong glance as he waited for the coffeemaker to warm up. “How are you doing with the craziness?”
She sprinkled a wooden board with flour and kneaded a ball of biscuit dough. “I’m coping.”
“You shouldn’t have to cope, Nydia. And you also shouldn’t have to be a prisoner in your own home.”
“This, too, shall pass,” she said under her breath.
“I know,” Lamar countered. “After we eat, we’re going out for a walk. And to return the favor of you making breakfast I want to take you out to dinner. Don’t look at me like that,” he warned, “because I intend to run interference if anyone comes at you.”
“What are you going to do? Go gangsta on them?”
“Gangsta or not, you can count on me to protect you whenever we’re together.”
* * *
Nydia recalled Jasmine talking about men protecting her. First her father, then her much older lover, and now Cameron. Her friend did not realize how lucky she was, because there were women who went through their entire lives without a man’s protection. Other than her father and brothers, she had never been involved with a man willing to protect her. The man in her first serious liaison failed to tell her he was married until confronted by the man’s wife; and she didn’t want to think of what she’d had with Danny, who’d used her and had planned to use her again with a public bombshell proposal.
She pondered what type of connection she could look forward to having with Lamar. He’d claimed he didn’t need her for sex, unlike her married professor who’d claimed she was the best woman he’d ever slept with. And he didn’t need her to support him financially, unlike Danny, who’d refused to get a job while waiting for his big break. But more important for her, Nydia had no intention of becoming a replacement for his dead wife. She was willing to offer friendship and not much more, because she now had two strikes in the romance department.
“Are you sure you want to be seen with me?”
Lamar gave her an incredulous look. “What’s wrong with being seen with you?”
“New Orleans may be thirteen hundred miles away from New York City, but it could be thirteen when livestreamed on the internet. I’ve closed my Facebook, Messenger, and Twitter accounts, and set up a new email because of nasty threats from people who don’t even know Danny and even less about me. Why should it matter to them if I reject a man’s marriage proposal? I’ll answer that question for you,” she said, not giving Lamar time to reply. “Because Danny’s publicist is hyping him up even before his first album drops. Danny admitted the man’s a piranha and with this so-called media blitz he’s achieved his objective: catapult his client into the spotlight as a spurned heartthrob, while the woman who rejected his undying love is a heartless skank.”
“Do you really care what people think of you, Nydia?”
She halted rolling out the dough. “No. What I do care about is dragging my family and friends into the fray. Think about your reputation. Do you want your photo splashed over the pages of some tawdry tabloid for your friends and family to start asking questions about me?”
“I’ve never put much stock into what people think of me. I live my life by a certain rubric and anything or anyone that doesn’t fit within those guidelines I reject.”
“That sounds very rigid.”
“Is it, because I am,” Lamar admitted. “I see things as either black or white.”
She cut out a half dozen biscuits, placing them on a greased baking sheet, and then brushed the tops with melted butter. Nydia wanted to ask Lamar, if they disagreed on something, would it be his way or the highway? He’d admitted to being rigid, while she was more adaptable and willing to compromise.
“Where are we going for dinner?” she asked as she placed the biscuits into the preheated oven.
“I rented a car at the airport because I’d like to take you to City Island.”
Resting her hip against the countertop, Nydia flashed a knowing smile. “Should I assume my offering to prepare breakfast has nothing to do with you returning the favor, because you’d already planned to take me to dinner?”
Lamar lowered his eyes and flashed a sheepish grin. “Guilty as charged.”
“I’m willing to bet that you added a dose of confidence to your Froot Loops for breakfast.”
His grin faded, replaced by an expression of astonishment. “How do you know I eat Froot Loops?”
“I have nieces and nephews around your daughter’s age, and oatmeal is not at the top of the list if selecting their favorite breakfast cereal.”
“I do eat it occasionally when Kendra decides to take over the breakfast duties from Miss Ramona. The breakfast menu is always Froot Loops, toast with peanut butter and bananas, and orange juice. Talk about sugar overload.”
“It’s the gesture that counts, Lamar.”
He nodded. “I know. How come you don’t have any kids?”
“Hel-lo,” Nydia drawled. “I’m not married.”
“Being married shouldn’t be a prerequisite for motherhood.”
“For me it is.”
“And what if you never marry?”
“Then I won’t have any. It’s not that I don’t have what you’d called maternal instincts, because I love hanging out with my nieces and nephews. It’s just that I’d rather be married, because I grew up in a stable household with both parents. I’m certain Papi and Mami had their disagreements, but they were careful not to let us see them at each other’s throat. I’ve been around friends and some family members when they were engaged in knock-down, drag-out, full-blown baby mama and baby daddy dramas. Their kids were crying and pleading with their parents to stop fighting, and I knew that was something I never wanted to experience for myself or my children.”
“Maybe that’s because the parents think only of themselves and not how their negative behavior is affecting their children’s emotional well-being.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Lamar.”
Nydia had had the same conversation with her mother whenever Isabel asked if she was ever going to have more grandchildren. Nelson’s wife had two girls and Joaquin and his partner had adopted two boys, but that still wasn’t enough for Isabel. Well, her mother would just have to wait for another grandchild until Nydia met the man with whom she would fall in love, marry, and together plan for a family.
Although she had spent more years with Danny than she should have, Nydia never deluded herself in believing they were even close to considering marriage.
She returned her attention to finishing up breakfast as she made a roux from the sausage drippings and flour. Milk thickened the roux, as she seasoned it with a pinch of salt and freshly ground pepper before adding bits of sausage to the gravy.
Twenty minutes later, Nydia placed golden brown piping-hot biscuits on a platter and handed it to Lamar. He returned to the kitchen to set a serving bowl with grits on the dining area table. She ladled perfectly turned over-easy eggs onto a heated plate, walked out of the kitchen, and joined Lamar as he stood behind a chair, waiting to seat her.
“Thank you,” she said, as he pushed in her chair.
Lamar rounded the table and sat opposite her. “You really can throw down in the kitchen.”
“I do okay.”
“Now who’s being modest,” he teased.
“You better start eating before everything gets cold.”
He picked up a napkin and spread it over his lap. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Nydia picked up a serving spoon and filled her plate with grits, eggs, gravy, and a biscuit. She bowed her head and said grace, knowing Tonya would be pleased that her student had successfully prepared an authentic Southern breakfast.