Lilah's List

by Robyn Amos

  “But seriously,” Angie said. “The smiley face is cute.”

  “Thank you,” Lilah said, lifting her chin. “And I still think the bottom of my heel is an ideal place for it. No chance of that skin sagging with age.”

  “Sagging with age—that sounds like my cue,” the gray-haired waitress said in her heavy Jamaican accent. “Welcome to Diamond Diner. My name is Belle, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I take your orders?”

  They each rattled off their selections as Belle stood listening. After Lilah ordered her much-anticipated short stack of buttermilk pancakes, she couldn’t resist asking, “Belle, aren’t you going to write that down?”

  “No, child. My skin might be saggin’ with age and my hair gray to the roots, but I’ve got a mind like a steel trap. It may be rusty, but it still works.”

  She then went on to recite all their orders word for word—prompting the three of them to applaud when she finished.

  “Don’t be too impressed, children. My tired old brain just replaced the memory of my wedding night with ‘coffee, two creams and no sugar.’”

  The three of them roared with laughter.

  After Lilah polished off her pancakes down to the last pearl of maple syrup, she held her stomach. “I’m so full, I may never eat again.”

  Belle chuckled as she leaned over to clear her plate. “Don’t fret, honey, as far as I can tell, never comes around every four to five hours, so I’ll be seeing you again.”

  Lilah smiled at Tyler. “I love this place. How come it’s not overrun with people?”

  He shrugged. “It’s more of a hangout for the locals. It hasn’t caught the eye of most tourists yet. So, you better keep the secret or Angie and I will have to revoke your trial membership.”

  “Membership to what?”

  “The New Yorker’s club. It provides access to all the places we locals don’t want you tourists to know about.”

  “Oh, well aren’t I lucky,” Lilah joked.

  “So what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” Tyler asked.

  Angie shrugged and pointed at Lilah, who pulled out her PDA to check The List. “Tattoo—check. Fortune-teller—check. Ooh, I see a good one that I can check off right now. Number 33.”

  Angie read over her shoulder. “‘Leave a $100 tip.’ Great idea. Belle is the best.”

  Tyler smiled. “I think that would really make her day.”

  After they paid the check with the cashier, Lilah walked back to the table, leaving five twenty-dollar bills. Still reluctant to put her full weight on her tattooed foot, she followed Angie and Tyler out of the diner at a hobble.

  As Tyler headed out to the street to hail a cab, Lilah noticed a gigantic man smoking a cigarette by the door. She recognized him immediately.

  “Do diners have bouncers now, too?”

  Chapter 8

  “No, I’m just waiting for my mother to finish her shift.” The bouncer from Duvet lowered his cigarette and stared at Lilah as if he knew her but couldn’t place her.

  Angie, who’d been behind Tyler as he walked into the street to hail a taxi, had turned around and was heading back to Lilah’s side.

  “That one,” he said pointing at Angie. “I remember her.”

  Angie placed a hand on her hip. “As well you should. You called me chopped liver,” she said, becoming indignant all over again.

  The bouncer looked her up and down, from her black motorcycle jacket and belted red knee-length sweater to her black leggings and red ankle boots. “I must have been crazy,” he said with obvious appreciation.

  Angie bristled under the bouncer’s sudden change of heart. Lilah looked over her shoulder to see that Tyler had hailed a cab. Realizing the girls weren’t behind him, he walked back toward them.

  Just as he reached Lilah’s side, the diner door flew open and Belle burst out onto the pavement.

  “There you are!” she shouted, grabbing Lilah by the shoulder.

  The bouncer rushed forward. “Mama, what’s wrong? What happened?” He turned a menacing eye on Lilah. “What did you do to my mother?”

  “Nothing! I—I—” Lilah’s heart hammered in her chest.

  Tyler stepped forward to get in between Lilah and the bouncer, and slipped a protective arm around her shoulder, but Belle was already pushing her son back, “Hush, Remy.”

  Belle thrust a fistful of cash into Lilah’s hands. “You left your money on the table.”

  Lilah pushed the money back at her. “No, that’s your tip.”

  Belle’s brow was lined with confusion. “There must be some mistake. Your bill was only twenty-four dollars.” She held up the money. “You left over four times that.”

  Lilah shook her head. “No, this is for you. I’ve always told myself that one day, when I received really great service, I would leave an outrageously good tip. That day finally came for me, Belle. I wanted you to have this for working so hard and making us laugh.”

  For a moment the older woman stood speechless, staring at the money in her hands. “How can I thank you?”

  Remy stepped forward. “You gave my mother a hundred-dollar tip?” He shook his head, tapping his fist over his heart “One love. You’re good people. You’ll always be VIP with me. Come to the club any night you want, and I’ll get you in free.”

  Lilah felt Tyler lower his arm from around her shoulders. She missed it right away, but knew it wasn’t the right time or place for thoughts like that.

  “Thanks, Remy, but that’s not necessary,” Lilah said. “I understand it’s your job to keep riffraff like us out of your respectable establishment. But I’m sure Angie wouldn’t mind an apology for calling her chopped liver.”

  Remy opened his mouth but Belle was already on him. “Remington Alfonso King—what is this I hear? You were rude to a woman? Calling her names?”

  “Mama, you know I sometimes have to get tough at work. It’s part of the job.”

  “You apologize right now.”

  Remy hung his head. “Yes, Mama.”

  Lilah giggled under her breath, watching the sheepish giant all but kneel at Angie’s feet.

  When he’d apologized to his mother’s satisfaction, she excused herself to get back to work. But not before taking the time to thank them each profusely and to welcome them to eat in her section anytime.

  With his mother gone, Remy turned his attention back to Angie. “A woman as fine as you are could never be chopped liver. You should let me make it up to you. Personally.”

  Angie waved him off. “Okay, that’s enough of that, big boy. You’re not my type.”

  “I can be any type you want….”

  Lilah tuned out the rest of their banter as Tyler turned to face her. “What happened? I was getting a cab and then I saw you two getting into it with this guy again.”

  Lilah laughed. “It was funny because I came out of the diner and saw him standing by the door, so I asked him if diners have bouncers now, too. He told me he was just picking his mother up after her shift. He was staring at us like he didn’t know who we were, so I reminded him. That’s pretty much all that happened before you showed up and Belle came rushing out.”

  “I see. You had me worried there for a minute. You’re not one of those girls who attracts trouble everywhere she goes, are you?”

  Lilah paused to consider that for a moment. She nodded. “You know, I think I just might be. You’d better watch out.”

  Before Tyler could respond, their attention was pulled away by Angie’s squeal.

  “You have a motorcycle? That’s perfect. We need a motorcycle.”

  Sunday afternoon Lilah made Angie take her to a craft store where she bought all the supplies she would need to teach herself to knit.

  They walked into the hotel lobby and Maureen, the front desk clerk, immediately waved them over. “I’ve been waiting all day to find out. How did your date go with Reggie Martin?”

  Lilah set down her shopping bag and leaned against the counter, shaking her head. “He had to bail out
at the last minute.”

  “Aw,” Maureen said, looking positively crushed. “That’s awful. Did he say why?”

  “I didn’t speak to him, but we had dinner with his brother who’s also his business manager. He said he couldn’t get away from the studio.”

  “What a bummer.”

  “She did get a tattoo, though,” Angie chimed in.

  Maureen perked up right away. “Oh my gosh. That’s so cool. What did you get? Can I see it?”

  Lilah bent down and untied her pink boots, pulling off her sock. “Not what you were expecting, was it?” Lilah said, flipping up her heel.

  Maureen was stretched over the counter examining her foot. “How cute. Why did you get it there?”

  Lilah shuffled her weight, struggling to put her boots and socks back on, while Angie answered. “She didn’t want to get the tattoo anywhere that it might come back to haunt her in later years.”

  As Lilah rose, she saw Maureen marking on a sheet of paper. “What have you got there?”

  Maureen held up Lilah’s list. “I printed it out from your blog. You know, it’s really entertaining. You’re a good writer. Is that what you do for a living?”

  “No, I’m in real estate.”

  “Oh. Well, anyway, I wanted to follow along with you as you check things off.”

  Lilah felt her embarrassment rising. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, did you get anything else done yesterday?”

  Angie pulled out her own copy to compare with Maureen’s. “You’re missing Numbers 29 and 33. She’s working on learn to knit today, but she’s probably not going to get very far, so I’ll get back to you on that one.”

  Lilah stared incredulously at the two of them poring over her private life as though it were a board game. Finally she just rolled her eyes and headed for the elevator.

  Lilah didn’t know what she was getting so worked up about. Two people reading her blog was no big deal. It wasn’t like she had all the eyes of New York City on her.

  Besides, with so much to do and so little time, she’d need all the help she could get.

  Later that evening, Lilah was sitting cross-legged on the bed, while Angie had made herself at home at the desk. “Are you sure you want to devote the entire day to trying to knit?” she asked, pulling out a pad of paper.

  Lilah was spreading her knitting needles, yarn and instructions over the bed. “I’ve never knitted a thing in my life. It could take a while for me to grasp the concept.”

  “Fine, while you work on that, you have to tell me what you want for your party.”

  “What party?” Lilah asked, frowning at the weapon-like knitting needles.

  “Duh, your birthday party. And before you say you don’t want one, refer to The List. Number 26, ‘throw a wild party.’”

  Lilah looked up and rolled her eyes. “How wild can a party of two really get? I don’t know anyone here in the city.”

  “First of all, you know good and well a party of two can get pretty wild. Remember your prebachelorette party?”

  “Riding around Annapolis in a limo, with our heads sticking out the sunroof, trying to recruit future naval officers for the evening does not constitute a party.”

  “It most certainly does. We got a lot of takers.”

  “Sure, but we drove two blocks, came to our senses and kicked them out.”

  “That’s only because we knew the rest of the girls wouldn’t fit in the limo with all those sailors. If we’d wanted to, we could have had a pretty wild time just you, me and those naval cadets.”

  Lilah sighed. “So what exactly are you suggesting? That we spend my birthday driving around New York in a limo, picking up strange men?”

  “Now there’s an idea,” Angie said, to which Lilah rolled her eyes.

  “Never mind, you don’t need to pick up strange men. You know Tyler Martin, and you’re soon to get reacquainted with Reggie. The promise of him alone could pack a house.”

  “Okay, let me repeat this. I don’t want to have a party with random people off the street.”

  Angie tapped her pen on her forehead for a second. “You let me worry about the guest list. The first order of business is always location.”

  Lilah shrugged. “This room is way too small for any kind of party, and I’ve seen your apartment. It’s even smaller than this hotel room.”

  “We could rent some place.”

  Lilah shook her head. “No, I don’t want to spend that kind of money. Maybe it can be just a cocktail type of thing. We could meet in a bar and have a few drinks. Like Happy Hour.”

  “You’re thinking too small. Wild party, remember? The active word there is wild. In fact, this hotel is cute, and I appreciate its charms, but you need something much more decadent for your birthday celebration.”

  “Angie—”

  “I think we should get you a penthouse suite in a ritzy hotel for the night of your birthday.”

  “Do you think I’m made of money?”

  Angie snorted. “Actually, yes. I think you’ve got to stop living like you’re poor. You make crazy money in real estate, and I happen to know you’re just sitting on that money from the sale of your house. It’s nice to be frugal, but come on, girl. Live a little.”

  Over the years Lilah had gotten in the habit of downplaying the money she made because it had made Chuck uncomfortable. He’d hated that he hadn’t made nearly as much selling insurance as she had in real estate. To placate his ego, they’d lived off his wages and had put hers away for a rainy day.

  Lilah stared at Angie. “But what if—”

  “I’m not asking you to break the bank, just loosen your purse strings a bit. I’m willing to do my part, but if you’re in for a penny, you’re in for a pound. You’re going to be thirty. You’ve got to bring it in with a bang, right?”

  Lilah felt a little sizzle in her blood. It could be really fun to have an elegant affair to commemorate her milestone birthday.

  But what was the use of going to all that trouble if there weren’t going to be any guests?

  “Maybe we could invite some of my friends from D.C.? It’s only a four-hour drive and a little less by train.”

  “Now you’re talking. Just let me know who you want, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Lilah sat up straighter, starting to get excited. “And if it’s going to be in a penthouse suite, we should definitely have it catered.”

  “Yeah,” Angie said, scribbling on her pad.

  “And I’ve always wanted to have an ice sculpture. Maybe a giant number thirty. No, how about a male torso…even better just the—”

  “Save that for your next bachelorette party.”

  Yeah, not much chance of her having another one of those. “Now, let’s talk music. Do you think that suite will be large enough to fit a live band?”

  Angie rolled her eyes. “I’ve created a monster.”

  Chapter 9

  Monday evening Lilah stumbled into her hotel lobby, drained and soaking wet. She was tempted to collapse to her knees and kiss the marble tiles at her feet.

  Maureen, who was working the front desk, called out to her. “Lilah, are you okay?”

  She dragged herself over to the desk, using it as support as she slipped her feet out of her sopping shoes. “Why is it so difficult to get around this city?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I took a cab downtown because I wanted to see Ground Zero. But, I think all the New York cabbies are out to get me.”

  “That’s not true,” Maureen said, winking at her. “They’re out to get everybody.”

  “I’m not kidding. The first cab I got into at the airport was reckless and drove crazy-fast. Then the taxi Angie and I took back from the fortune-teller’s on Saturday dropped us off two blocks from the hotel because he wanted to pick up a bigger fare that came in over the radio. And this guy today tried to rip me off, driving in circles to jack up the price.”

  “Aw, Lilah, why didn’t you take the subway? There a
re stops all over the city, and it’s much cheaper.”

  “That was my next bright idea. I thought there’s no way I’m going to risk my life standing on the street corner trying to hail a taxi back uptown, so I tried the subway.”

  Maureen got a wary look on her face. “What happened?”

  Lilah shook her head at the memory. “I didn’t know I was mentally challenged.”

  “What?”

  “I swear to you, until today I thought I was at least as smart as the average person. But I just couldn’t figure out the subway. The first stop I went to didn’t have a train running to Times Square. The nice lady in the little booth tried to direct me to another subway stop—not far away, she said—where I could pick up the right train.”

  Maureen was now resting her face in her hands and wincing. “And?”

  “And I never found it. I walked for blocks, and I couldn’t find this phantom subway station the woman had directed me to. When I finally found another one, I realized that I had wandered much farther away from my destination. So, fine, I bought my ticket and I found the right-lettered train, but it was going the opposite direction. Great, I figured all I have to do is get to the other side. I took the only exit I could see and found myself standing back out on the street. Fare wasted without riding anywhere.”

  “Oh, Lilah—”

  “At this point, I was so frustrated that I figured I’d just take my chances with another cab. Of course, by now it’s raining and none of them would stop for me. When I finally found a cab to pick me up, he went around the block and picked up two more passengers. I rode all the way uptown crammed beside two sweaty men.”

  “I’m not sure that’s even legal,” Maureen said, shaking her head. “You’ve had some rotten luck, haven’t you?”

  She reached into her drawer and pulled out a business card. “Here.”

  Lilah read the name. Sanjay Mumbari. “Who is this?”