“What if I step in as your sous chef?” Tonya asked. “I can’t stand around and watch other folks cook without getting involved.”
Hannah knew if she could get Tonya interested in learning to cook the regional dishes, then perhaps she would consider coming to work for her. “Okay.” She handed her an apron from a stack in a drawer under the countertop, and then took one for herself. “You can fry the tomatoes, while I grill the shrimp, livers, and steak. But first let me get the ingredients for the hurricane.” Opening an overhead cabinet, she took out bottles of light and dark rum and passion fruit syrup.
“Hey-y-y-y,” Nydia crooned as she walked into the kitchen. “This place is so big I got lost trying to find the kitchen.”
“What are we drinking?” Jasmine asked. She was several steps behind Nydia.
“Hurricanes.” Hannah turned on the radio on the countertop and the kitchen was filled with slow jams from the nineties.
Samara rushed into the kitchen. Like Nydia and Jasmine, she’d changed out of her jeans into a tank top, shorts, and flip-flops. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing, Miss Slow Poke,” Tonya said to her daughter.
Samara rolled her eyes upward. “Are you cooking, Mom?”
“No. I’m helping Hannah.”
Samara sniffed the air. “Wow! Something smells good.”
“That’s Hannah’s red beans.”
“I know I’m going to gain at least ten pounds before we leave here,” Jasmine said. “What’s the city motto?”
“Laissez le bon temps rouler!” Hannah said in French. “Let the good times roll!”
Jasmine smiled. “That’s it. I intend to party so hard I’ll have to go to one of those retreats in the desert to recover.”
Hannah slipped on her apron. “I have a few places I’d like to take you while you’re here. I didn’t plan anything for this coming Saturday because we’re invited to a friend’s family reunion.”
Nydia gave Hannah a questioning look. “Why are we invited?”
“Because you’re my guests.”
“Hush up, Nydia,” Tonya chastised, “and try to be gracious.
Hannah quickly measured the ingredients for a hurricane into a cocktail shaker with cracked ice. She gave it a vigorous shake, strained it into a chilled glass, and then handed it to Nydia. “This will definitely put you in a mellow mood.” She repeated the action another four times until everyone held a glass.
“What are we toasting?” Nydia asked when Hannah raised her glass.
She smiled at the young accountant. “To new beginnings.” Hannah took a sip of the chilled cocktail, meeting Tonya’s eyes over the rim.
Jasmine’s eyelids fluttered. “What are we starting?”
“I’ll tell you after we sit down to eat.”
Chapter 19
Hannah waited until everyone had eaten before she told them more about her new venture as an innkeeper and her hope they’d become investors. And judging from the expressions on Nydia and Jasmine’s faces, she saw their indecision.
“You know this means we’ll have to live here?” Nydia questioned.
She nodded. “What I need you to do can’t be accomplished if you live in New York.”
Jasmine drained her glass. “I’m with Nydia. I’m going to have to think about it.” She stared at Tonya. “What about you, Tonya? You haven’t said a word.”
“I haven’t said a word because I’m still thinking.”
“What about Darius, Mom?” Samara asked.
Tonya glared at her daughter. “What about him? We’re not married, nor are we joined at the hip.”
Jasmine gave Tonya a sidelong glance. “You’re involved with someone?”
Tonya exhaled an audible breath. “I’m not involved; I am just seeing someone. I’m thinking about Hannah’s offer because I’ve always wanted to run my own restaurant. I don’t want to be in the position again where I’m called in the owner’s or boss’s office and told they’re letting me go. And whenever I find a new position, I always have to start at the bottom. At my age I’m sick and tired of starting at the bottom. So, if y’all want to know, the answer is yes, I’m seriously thinking about it.”
Samara applauded. “Good for you, Mom. And if you move to New Orleans, then we can get to see each other more often. I could drive here in about eight hours.”
“What about your apartment?” Nydia asked Tonya.
“My lease is up at the end of January. I have to make a decision and let my landlord know at least sixty days before it expires. If you want to rent my apartment, then I’ll tell the landlord you’re my cousin and he would be getting a good tenant.”
Nydia chewed her lower lip. “How many bedrooms do you have?”
“Two.”
She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t need two bedrooms. But if the rent isn’t through the roof, then I’ll consider it.”
Hannah took personal delight listening to the interchange between Nydia and Tonya. She understood Tonya’s stance when it came to wanting to run her own business, because she was no different. As women in their fifties they’d earned enough life and work experience not to start over again like entry-level high school or college graduates. And even with a law degree she would be prohibited from practicing law in the state of Louisiana until she passed the state’s bar.
“Does anyone want another round of drinks?”
Jasmine raised her glass. “What the hell. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”
“I hear you,” Samara chimed in. “I studied so hard this past year that I thought my brain was going to explode. I’m more than ready to hit a few clubs while we’re here.”
Hannah rose to her feet. “It’s all right if you sleep in late tomorrow. I figure you’d want to hang around the house for a day so you can become acclimated, because we’re having an unusually hot summer. I’ve made reservations for us to take a cruise on the steamboat Natchez for dinner and live jazz music one day next week. Thursday night we’re going to eat at one of my favorite restaurants. Y’all have to let me know what you want to do Friday night. We can begin with some of the more popular jazz clubs before visiting those that feature Cajun and zydeco, brass bands, and bounce and hip-hop.”
“What do you know about hip-hop, Miss Magnolia Queen?” Nydia teased.
She laughed. “More than you know.”
* * *
Hannah sat on the screened-in back porch with Tonya. Everyone had pitched in to clean up the kitchen after their second round of cocktails before retreating to their rooms to retire for the night. She and Tonya had spent the past forty minutes talking about what she’d envisioned for the DuPont Inn. They’d negotiated a figure Tonya would invest for a twenty-five percent share of the company.
“Do you think Nydia and Jasmine will come around?” The two younger women appeared reluctant to go in with her and Tonya. Instead of twenty-five percent, Hannah had offered each a ten-percent share.
Tonya shifted until she found a comfortable position on the cushioned rocker. “I hope they do. They probably don’t want the responsibility of running a company when they’d rather work for that company. There’s a certain mindset of people who’re content being the worker bees when someone tells them what to do.”
“I don’t believe that’s true for Jasmine. After all, she did have her own interior decorating firm.”
“Remember, Hannah, she gave it over to her husband to run.”
Hannah nodded. “You’re right. She has an expert eye when it comes to appraising an antique, and she’s also a very good HR specialist.”
“She’s multitalented and misdirected.”
“I think you’re being too hard on her, Tonya.”
“You learn a lot about folks when you spend hours with them in a car. I’m not saying Jasmine isn’t intelligent, but I think that ex-husband of hers really did a number on her self-esteem. She kept complaining about his cheating her out of becoming a mother.”
“At the age of forty-two she still c
an become a mother. With the advances in modern medicine, some women are having their first child at forty.”
“Would you have considered having a child at that age?” Tonya asked.
“No. Only because when I was forty, my son was entering the Air Force Academy, and there was no way I was going back to changing diapers and walking the floor with a colicky baby.”
“I have one more year before Samara graduates. I told her I’d pay her undergraduate tuition, but if she wants to go to grad school, then she has to apply for student loans.”
“Is she planning to go to grad school?”
“She’s been hinting.”
“What’s her major?”
“Economics with a minor in political science.”
Hannah grimaced. “That’s heavy.” A beat passed. “She seemed rather upset that you were going to leave your boyfriend.”
“My daughter is like most adult children who want to see their parents with someone because they’re afraid they’ll have to take care of them in their old age. I told her that’s why I work: so I can save enough money to live in an upscale assisted living facility with my own luxury suite, an indoor pool, and health spa.”
“That sounds like a good plan. My plans include living in this house and dying when I’m a very old woman.”
“How old, Hannah?”
“One hundred.”
“That’s all?”
“Okay. One hundred one.”
“That’s better. I hate to be a party pooper, but I have a date with a bed who has been calling my name. Those hurricanes are lethal.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t have a second round.”
Tonya stood up. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
One down, two to go. She’d scaled one hurdle, the most important one. She’d hired a professional chef for the café and supper club. Hannah knew there were accountants and personnel specialists looking for positions, but her concern was trust. She wanted to hire people she could trust to work in the same place where she lived.
Her instincts were right when she’d invited Jasmine, Nydia, and Tonya to her Manhattan apartment. The camaraderie between them was still evident when they laughed and joked like a group of schoolgirls. She didn’t want to believe she had to wait four decades to connect with women she now thought of as friends.
Everything in her life was falling into place. There were only a few missing pieces, but she was confident those, too, would soon fall into place.
* * *
Hannah sat in the parlor with her friends, watching and critiquing talk shows. She rarely watched television, and when she did it was usually documentaries, classic movies, or an all-news channel. Her recommendation they spend the day at home was a good one when temperatures were predicted to top one hundred degrees. Meteorologists were urging those who didn’t have to venture outdoors to stay inside.
Everyone, including herself, had slept late. When she finally walked into the kitchen at nine-thirty, she quickly brewed a pot of coffee and selected the items she needed to prepare brunch. She was drinking her second cup when Tonya joined her, complaining of spending a restless night because of hot flashes.
Hannah recounted her experience with hot flashes, mood swings, and vaginal dryness. She told the chef she only wore cotton nightgowns, took an over-the-counter homeopathic hormonal medication for the hot flashes, and used a lubricant to offset the dryness.
Tonya confided to her about her failed marriage, her decision to become a chef, and her reluctance to remarry, while Hannah shocked Tonya when she gave her an intimate view of her ancestors, beginning with Etienne and Margit and ending with her parents. They’d become two women who needed to unload about things they’d never revealed to anyone. Hannah knew her relationship with Tonya wouldn’t be as employees, friends, but co-owners.
The doorbell chimed throughout the house and everyone looked at Hannah. “Are you expecting company?” Nydia asked.
She glanced at the time on the cable box, gasping. She’d forgotten she had a dance lesson with St. John. Unfolding her legs, she scrambled off the loveseat. “I’ll be right back.”
Hannah opened the door to find St. John smiling at her. “Please come in. I forgot about the lesson. Please give me a few minutes to change.”
St. John caught her arm. “Don’t bother, sweetheart. I told you to call me if you needed to cancel.”
“I woke up late and the morning just got away from me.” Her excuse sounded trite even to her ears.
Lowering his head, he kissed her forehead. “I’ll leave you to your friends, and I hope to meet them Saturday.”
Hannah took his hand. “You don’t have to wait for Saturday. Come with me and I’ll introduce you to them.”
* * *
St. John didn’t want to impose on Hannah and her houseguests, but knew from her expression that she wasn’t going to be denied. He didn’t realize how much he’d miss her until it was time for him to go to bed. He marveled at how quickly he’d gotten so used to her sleeping beside him.
“Okay.”
He entered the parlor, and the attention of the four women was transferred from the television screen to him. “Good afternoon, ladies.”
Hannah took charge of the introductions. “St. John, these are my friends from New York and Atlanta. The lady with the dimples is chef extraordinaire Tonya Martin. The young woman sitting next to her is her daughter, Samara, who is currently a student at Spelman College.” She pointed to a young woman with a mass of curly hair framing her face. “Nydia Santiago is a brilliant accountant and CPA, so if you want someone to balance your books, then she’s the one.” St. John laughed along with the others. “Finally, but definitely not least, is Jasmine Washington, who was our HR specialist before all of us were unceremoniously dismissed from our positions. Ladies, this is my very good friend, St. John McNair.”
Tonya angled her head. “It’s nice meeting you, Mr. McNair.”
“Please call me St. John.”
“How do you spell your name?” Nydia questioned.
“It’s spelled like the prophet St. John, but pronounced SIN-jun. My mother named me after a character in Jane Eyre. Therefore it’s the British pronunciation.”
“Was your mother a teacher?” It was Samara’s turn to question him.
“No. My mother is a retired nurse.”
The interrogation continued with Jasmine asking, “What do you do?”
He gave Hannah a quick glance. It was apparent she hadn’t mentioned him to her friends. “I’m a teacher.”
Samara sat straight. “Where do you teach?”
“I teach at Barden College.”
“What do you teach?” Samara asked another question.
“History.”
Hannah patted his chest. “I think you’d better sit during this inquisition. I’m going into the kitchen to bring everyone something cold to drink.”
Tonya popped up. “I’ll help you.”
Chapter 20
Tonya literally pulled Hannah into the kitchen. “Where did you find him?”
She halted opening the refrigerator. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play obtuse with me, Hannah Lowell. I’m talking about the man in your parlor who, besides being gorgeous, is as smooth as Skippy peanut butter.”
“I didn’t find him anywhere. We went to high school together and reconnected at our fortieth reunion. He takes ballroom dance lessons during the summer, and he asked me to partner with him.”
Tonya watched Hannah as she took out a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge, then took down iced tea glasses from an overhead cabinet and placed them on a tray. “Is that all that’s going on between you two?”
“We’re friends, Tonya. What else do you want me to say?”
“That perhaps you’re sleeping together? And if you are, then good for you. That gives me hope that someday I’ll meet a man with as much class as your St. John.”
Hannah stirred the lemona
de with a long-handled spoon, then handed off the tray to Tonya. “I thought you have someone.”
“I like Darius, even though I’ll never be in love with him. That’s why it’s so easy for me to talk about moving here.”
“How do you think he’s going to react when you tell him?”
“I don’t know. Darius isn’t an easy man to read, because he holds so much inside. Back to St. John. How serious are the two of you?”
“Not serious at all. I’m widowed and he’s divorced, which means we don’t need to be married to have a relationship.”
“Does he have kids?”
“No. He and his ex-wife never had children.”
“Remember when I told you that day in your apartment that once you go black you don’t go back, and you said you didn’t know anything about that. I’m going to ask you one last question, and I’d appreciate an honest answer.”
Hannah felt heat in her face because she knew what Tonya was going to ask. “What is it?”
“Is he as good as your husband was in bed?”
“Better,” she said without guile. And he was. When St. John made love to her, Hannah experienced emotions of unbridled desire and ecstasy followed by a contented peace that made her want to lie in his arms forever.
“Good for you,” Tonya whispered. “Enjoy it for however long it lasts, and I hope for you it will last forever.”
Hannah nodded because she was too emotion-filled to speak. Talking about St. John made her aware that she was in so deep that she couldn’t differentiate between liking and loving. She found in St. John everything she’d sought in a man but hadn’t been aware she’d wanted until reuniting with him.
She returned to the parlor and filled glasses with the cool citrus drink, then settled down to listen to Samara tell St. John about the research she’d collected for her thesis. The man with whom she’d fallen in love went up several more points when he told Samara to email him what she’d written and he would look it over and give her his feedback.
Hannah placed her hand over his. “Tonya is smoking brisket and a pork shoulder in the outdoor kitchen and I’d like to invite you to eat with us. Tonight we’re going to have an international dinner because Nydia has volunteered to make Puerto Rican–style rice and beans. Jasmine is going to make a dessert of caramel flan, while I’ve been assigned the task of making a Greek salad.”
The Inheritance Page 25
