Seven
SEVEN
Holland
W hen the last of the movers left, I closed the door, turned around, and scanned my new apartment from one side to the other. Smiling hard, I covered my face with my hands, stomped my feet, and squealed. I did it! No music played, but I danced, waving my hands and moving to the happiness that strummed in my heart. I stopped to catch my breath and turned on some real music while I unpacked boxes, thinking of this new journey and the life I’d left behind. I hoped Ma was proud. I wanted her to be happy with me.
I pulled the thin plastic off my couch and flopped down. It would take days, maybe weeks, to get through the city of boxes stacked throughout the living room. Unpacking major items would have to wait. My flight back to New York was leaving in a few hours. I was only in Charleston long enough for the movers to deliver my things. After a few weeks, I hoped to have my aunt’s house cleaned out, painted, and sold so I could return to Charleston to start my new life, and celebrate my birthday. It was a good thing I’d planned my move with some extra time to get settled—only now most of that time would be spent up north.
Ma cried so hard when I left—her small body jiggled with each sob. I promised to call her every morning and every night.
I folded myself on the couch and swiped through my phone until I got to her name.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Hey. Everything came in one piece?” she asked, referring to my furniture.
“So far.”
“Good. When do you think you’ll come back to visit?”
“I’ll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“At least you’re not moving to New York. I don’t know what I’d do if you did that,” Ma said. “You be careful out there,” she said through sniffles.
She’d always had a special disdain for New York. I always wondered why. Perhaps the pace was as dizzying to her as it was to me.
“What’s so bad about New York?”
At first, she didn’t answer. “It’s just far,” she finally said, her voice lower than it had been minutes before. “I don’t like it there. Those people—” Her sentence fell off.
“How many times have you been there? When was the last time?” I didn’t remember her ever going while I was living with her.
“Once…a long time ago.” She was curt.
“Was I with you?” I asked, ready to calculate the years in my head. What if she was there around the same time my mother and grandma were alive?
“I don’t remember. Stop asking me questions,” she said, irritated.
“I just want—”
“What difference does it make?” she interrupted, clearly agitated. Her voice squeaked the way it did when she had enough of our pressing. “You’re making my head hurt. I had a long day.”
“Ma!” I scolded, but she said nothing. “Well, whether I’m here or in Florence, I’m still your baby,” I said to comfort her.
“That you are,” she said, sounding less agitated.
I was glad to have broken through her sadness. “Want me to bring you something nice back from New York?”
“And wait all the way until Thanksgiving to get it? No thanks.”
I chuckled, though I still felt a little guilty. Ma was up in age, never had a husband, and foster kids flowed in and out of her life constantly. Patience and I were all she had to hold on to, and now I was leaving. I needed to do this for myself.
We talked for a few more minutes before I promised to call her when I landed.
Ma doted on me like a delicate flower that needed special care. No sleepovers, no sleepaway camps. Nothing. She hardly let me out of her sight. Friends could come to my house but I couldn’t go to theirs. Patience wasn’t bound like I was.
I knew this move to Charleston was going to be hard for her. She didn’t have to worry about me moving to New York. Unlike Charleston, living in Brooklyn would be too stark of an adjustment. That place was a whirlwind, spinning wildly and threatening to sweep me up in its wake. The sheer volume of the city was alarming. The place never truly quieted, not even through the thick of the night. There were too many people, and half of them didn’t sleep.
But it wasn’t all bad. New York crackled with energy. The blend of cultures created a mesmerizing tapestry. The people were so interesting that watching them was a sport. Brooklyn was a character in and of itself—loud, bold, edgy, and confident. And then there was the house and all its history— my history—a new discovery in every crevice. Being there made me feel like I belonged, even if it was temporary.
I thought about Aunt Goldie, wondering what it could have been like had she been able to get a hold of me sooner. I would have given anything to see her face, feel the warmth of her embrace, or sit at her feet listening to her reminisce about times shared with my mother and grandmother.
Then there was Ms. Elsie and Noble. If I kept the house, Noble would be my cute next-door neighbor. I chuckled, thinking about the way he shamelessly flirted the night Ms. Elsie introduced us. I hoped to run into him again, since I was staying at the house instead of a hotel this time.
Thinking about Noble reminded me to call Ms. Elsie. She insisted I remind her when I was coming back.
“Hey, baby,” she sang into the phone.
“How’s it going, Ms. Elsie?”
In her usual fashion, she recapped her day, offering way more information than necessary. “Enough about me, what time are you getting in?”
I shared my travel details with her.
“That’s just in time for dinner. I’ll have something good for you to eat when you get here. You should be good and hungry after all that traveling.”
“Aw, thanks, Ms. Elsie,” I said, looking forward to her delicious food. There was no use saying no to her, even if I wasn’t hungry. I hadn’t known her for long at all, yet I looked forward to seeing her again. “See you soon.”
I showered away the sweat from unpacking in the oppressive Carolina heat then threw on a tee shirt and leggings. Then, I twisted my bushy hair into a messy top bun, grabbed a light sweater for the airplane, and ordered an Uber to the airport. Once I got through security and settled in my seat, I was sure I’d fall asleep before the plane left the tarmac.
As expected, my eyes fluttered open when the wheels skidded on the runway at JFK. I dragged my overstuffed luggage off the carousel and maneuvered through the endless sea of people inside the terminal. Exhausted, I found it hard to keep my eyes open on the Uber ride to the house.
I grew tired just thinking about the past few days—flying from Florence to New York to Charleston and back to New York again. Not to mention the physical exertion and emotional gymnastics. I was spent and couldn’t wait to eat some of Ms. Elsie’s food and climb into bed.
The driver had to wake me, to let me know we’d reached my destination. Thanking him, I lugged my tired body from the back seat, the familiar buzz of Brooklyn filtering through my Air Pods. By the time I’d exited the car, the driver was rolling my suitcase toward me. I looked up at the stoop and groaned, not looking forward to dragging my suitcase up those steps.
Then the space around me crackled like lightning. My stomach fluttered. I felt him before I saw him. Noble. His scent—bold, rich, and woody—tickled my nostrils.
“Let me get that for you.” His voice, deep and masculine, slid through me. I wanted to close my eyes and drift away.
A smile teased the corner of my lips as I turned, letting my gaze wash across his handsome face and sexy grin before we locked eyes. Suddenly, I remembered that I was a hot, tired, stale-breathed, barefaced mess and was immediately mortified. My hand flew to my top bun, which was most likely lopsided from ugly-sleeping on the plane and in the car.
“Oh…uh. That’s okay. I got it,” I said, wanting to disappear, I reached for my luggage and his hand grazed mine, sending shockwaves up my arm. Flinching, I yanked my hand away, disconnecting the current. “Oh. Sorry. I mean. I got it. Thanks,” I sputtered.
Noble’s crooked grin suggested he was enjoying the way I squirmed in his presence. It also suggested a hint of confidence on his behalf. Maybe even arrogance.
“I was taught better than that.” Noble winked, grabbed my luggage, and effortlessly carried it up the steps, setting it in front of the door. The perfect gentleman.
“Thanks again,” I said as I reached behind me to close the back door of the Uber before realizing he’d already driven off. It was just Noble and me. No one to distract me from studying his full lips.
“You’re more than welcome.”
My cheeks warmed. All he had said was that I was welcome. Why was I blushing?
“Welcome home, baby!” Ms. Elsie’s voice broke through, cooling the heat rising in my cheeks and other parts. “Good to have you back.”
“Thanks, Ms. Elsie. Good to be back.”
She swallowed me in her arms. Today, she wore a lime-green sweat suit with fabric so soft I wanted to bury my face in her jacket.
“Dinner is ready. Go on and put your stuff down and come get you some of this good food.” She turned to Noble. “You’re such a gentleman,” she said, pinching his cheek. “You eating with us tonight?”
“Anything for you, Ms. Elsie.” Noble winked. “I’d be happy to join you.” He responded to her, but his eyes burned a sizzling hole in my back as I fumbled with the keys in the door.
Noble lifted my luggage over the threshold and backed outside. “See you in a few?”
“Yeah.” That came out breathier than I’d intended. “I just need a few moments to freshen up. You know, wash the travel off of me.”
“You look pretty fresh to me.” That crooked smile was so damn sexy.
“Ah! Here you go again.” We laughed.
“Shameless!” His self-deprecating teasing tickled me. “I need to be more subtle when I flirt.”
I giggled into my shoulder like a teenager. How embarrassing.
Releasing me from his magnetic hold, Noble jogged down the steps and out the gate toward the delectable aroma escaping Ms. Elsie’s open window.
As soon as I cleared the doorway, I flipped my suitcase open, grabbed a cute little sundress, and dashed upstairs for a quick shower. I dried and spritzed my skin with a light floral spray, fixed my hair, lined my eyes, brushed on some mascara, and slid a vibrant, shiny pink gloss across my lips.
I was ready for Noble and enjoyed the attention he lavished on me. Might as well have fun while it lasted, because once I headed to Charleston in a few weeks, I’d probably never see him again.