Gerald thought the tickets were a foolish waste of her hard-earned money. Whenever she mentioned buying one, he cited the minute odds of winning and rattled off a bunch of arcane figures to her. That was to be expected, she figured. He was an accountant and watched every penny he spent carefully. Accountants also thought everything in life could be explained by numbers. She realized that the chances of winning big were slim to none, but they were nonexistent if you didn’t bother to play at all.
Today she decided to play Pick 3 and Pick 4 and asked the cashier for Quick Pick, to allow the lottery computer to select numbers randomly for her. She never bet more than a few dollars. That way in her mind she wasn’t blowing a ton of money, yet was still giving herself a chance to win.
Once back at home, she dumped the tickets and the mail on her desk. She didn’t even bother to look through the mail. Most of it was overdue bills, and she wasn’t in the mood to torture herself.
Paws was yapping and hopping around her feet, wanting to go out, but she noticed the message light flashing on the kitchen wall phone and pressed the button to flip through the caller ID. “And why did I do that?” she asked herself as the name and number showed up. Just as she had dreaded, the bill collector who was nagging her about her three-thousand-dollar Macy’s credit card bill had called twice about payment for the furniture and clothing she had charged.
Lenora knew she should call him back to let him know that she finally dropped a check in the mail on Saturday morning. Although it wasn’t nearly as much as he wanted her to send, it was something. But she hated talking to the man. He always made her feel so guilty no matter what she told him she was doing to try to make ends meet. He didn’t care that she had to juggle her payments to make sure her mortgage and utilities got paid every month. So he could just wait until she got back from walking Paws. Besides, she had noticed that the later she called him, the less likely he was to answer his phone and she could simply leave a message.
She took Paws out for a quick trip around the grounds of the building, then returned and fed her. She picked up the phone and dialed the bill collector’s number, hoping that his machine would come on and she would not have to talk to him directly. For the first time that day, luck was on her side. She left a brief message explaining that he should have a payment from her in a day or two.
Mindful of her diet promises to herself, instead of a Neely meal, she took the time to chop up the ingredients for an elaborate tossed salad with lettuce, tomato, green peppers, and spring onion. She tossed in some black olives and a few slices of chicken from a previous dinner. Finally she added a couple of tablespoons of her homemade low-fat salad dressing.
She poured herself a cup of green tea and sat down with her salad in front of the tube to watch a recording of one of her favorite travel shows, Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations. She loved the varied destinations that the chef traveled to, from Baltimore to Bangkok, and the exotic food and cultures featured. Tony was controversial, and people seemed to love him or hate him. Lenora got a kick out of his irreverent comments and his wit. He was the perfect companion when she was at home alone and in a funky mood.
After she finished eating she patted the couch, and Paws hopped up and sat beside her. She was so glad she had gotten her from the shelter. Paws took some of the sting off her lonely nights.
At seven-thirty, she changed into cotton pajamas, slid beneath the bedcovers with a big red apple, plumped the pillow beneath her head, and flipped on the television to wait for the evening lottery drawings.
Gerald hadn’t called yet, even though he said that he would phone when he got off from work. She thought about attempting to reach him, but she was trying hard not to pester him or to act possessive. That was the deal they had reached shortly after he cheated on her two years ago. He had promised to be honest with her if he ever thought of straying, and she had promised to make every effort not to crowd him. They had both agreed that it was the only way the relationship would work.
Fifteen minutes later, she was tearing up her losing lottery picks and tossing them into the wastebasket. And wondering why Gerald still hadn’t called. She yanked the phone up from the nightstand and dialed his cell phone number. It rang and rang until the answering machine came on. She hung up in frustration without leaving a message. What was the big deal? All he had to do was pick up the phone and talk to her for a few minutes. What was he doing that he couldn’t find a few minutes to spare?
She walked to the kitchen in her bare feet and opened the freezer door. She stared at the half-gallon container of Edy’s Grand Real Strawberry ice cream for a few seconds, then grabbed it and slammed the freezer door shut. She poured a generous amount of Baileys Irish Cream over the ice cream. This would help her sleep. A salad and an apple were no solution to an empty life.
Ten minutes later she tossed the empty ice cream container into the trash and climbed back into her bed. She turned off the lamp and pulled the covers high up over her shoulders. One of these days her luck with men and money was going to change for the better. She just hoped it happened before she became a fat, gray-haired lady on the brink of death.
Chapter 6
When the alarm went off that morning, Lenora realized that Gerald had never bothered to call the night before as promised. For three nights in a row, the same thing. No call. He would probably phone around noon from work and apologize, as usual, but it was still annoying as hell to wait around all evening for a call that never came. He should just say up front if he wasn’t going to call.
She sat up in bed and petted Paws while debating whether to call Gerald before getting dressed for work but finally decided against it. She didn’t want to risk being late to the office again, not after her tardiness earlier this week had cost the magazine a feature with a landscaper and probably nearly cost her her job.
By the time she pulled into the parking lot at the Baltimore Scene, she had changed her mind. During the long drive between Columbia and Baltimore, she worked herself into a mini-frenzy, wondering why Gerald had become so undependable. Promising to call and not following through had become a pattern with him of late, and Lenora didn’t like it one bit. She was going to call him and insist they talk about this.
She entered her office and dropped her camera bag on the floor near her desk. She walked to the lunchroom and filled her mug with black coffee. Instead of hanging around the pot to chat with Jenna and her other coworkers, who were already making plans for the upcoming weekend even though it was only Thursday, she slipped out and darted back down the hallway to her office.
She placed her coffee mug on the desk and plopped in the chair. At that very minute the phone rang and she snatched up the receiver, thinking that maybe Gerald was finally calling her. The minute she picked up, she flinched. What if it was a bill collector calling to pester her? She hadn’t thought of that. She was tempted to hang up, but it was too late for second thoughts.
“Hello?” she asked cautiously.
“Hey, girl.”
Lenora sighed with relief. It was her good friend Monica. Still no Gerald, but at least it was not the bill collector. “Hey, what’s up?” Lenora asked. She and Monica talked to each other most days, but Monica wouldn’t call at eight-forty in the morning unless she wanted something in particular. She was a surgical nurse at Columbia General Hospital and her workdays were pretty full.
“I wanted to catch you before you get going,” Monica said. “Got a bit of a break since a surgery was canceled this morning. We still on for tomorrow tonight?”
“Tomorrow night?” Lenora asked, frowning.
“Friday night. Dinner at my place. Don’t tell me you forgot.”
Lenora grimaced as she remembered that they had tentative plans to meet for dinner after work, something they did about once a month. They had made the plans last weekend, before Gerald postponed their dinner date to this Friday night.
“I was going to invite Alise,” Monica added. “We can ask her about any recent developments on our a
pplications to The Girlfriends. I think they make the decision whether to accept or reject us pretty soon.”
“You’re right.” Lenora was so occupied with work and thoughts about Gerald that the pending application had slipped right by her. The Girlfriends was one of the premier social groups for black women in the area. A lot of people thought all the members did was party, since the club sponsored huge dances and other social gatherings throughout the year. But fun wasn’t all that the group was about. Most of the hundred and twenty women in the club were professionals, many of them doctors, lawyers, judges, and successful businesswomen. Each paid a thousand-dollar initiation fee and another five hundred dollars in dues annually, and much of it went to programs for needy women and children around the country.
Getting in was no easy feat, as the group was selective and applying was a six-month-long process. Applicants had to be sponsored by a current long-standing member and submit a seven-page application along with a résumé. They were also expected to attend at least two of the group’s many functions throughout the year to give the members a chance to get to know the applicant. Finally the members voted. The club went through this process annually and admitted anywhere from three members to none at any one time.
The initiation fee and annual dues would be a stretch for both Lenora and Monica. But Alise was willing to sponsor them, and Lenora figured that if the women of The Girlfriends would have her, she would find the money somehow.
“And I agree that it’s a good idea to invite Alise,” Lenora continued. “But I just can’t tomorrow night. I’m having dinner with Gerald.”
Monica sighed loudly. “You didn’t tell me that. I thought you were seeing him some other night this week.”
“I was supposed to see him on Monday, but he had to work late, so we postponed to Friday. Sorry, but I forgot to tell you.”
“He’s always postponing.”
“No he’s not. And he’s got a business he’s trying to keep afloat. That’s not easy in this economy.”
Stony silence.
“Look, Monica, what is your problem?” Lenora said with irritation. “We can always hook up with Alise over the weekend or next week.”
“She’s going out of town for a Realtor’s conference next week,” Monica said. “If we don’t jump on it this weekend, it could be a while before we can catch her.”
“So see if she can meet with us on Saturday. Can you do lunch or dinner on Saturday?”
“If you don’t put it off again,” Monica said sharply. “You know I finally got invited out to a movie tomorrow night by this lab technician I’ve had my eye on here at work. I’ve been flirting shamelessly with him for weeks trying to get him to ask me out.”
“So what else is new?” Lenora asked sarcastically. Her redheaded girlfriend had more men in her little black book than a rosebush had thorns. And if Monica saw a man who looked good, she wasn’t shy about going after him. Once conquered, she moved on to the next one. She had been that way ever since her divorce ten years earlier.
“Very funny,” Monica said. “I turned down a chance to get some good lovin’ tomorrow night ’cause I thought we were going to hook up for dinner and maybe see Alise.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Lenora said.
“No, you’re not,” Monica countered.
Lenora chuckled. She had to admit to herself that she was only a little sorry. “Yes, I am. But I also know that you’ll see to it that this brother asks you out again.”
“You’re right about that,” Monica said, laughing. “Except he’s not a brother. He’s the cutest white dude I ever laid eyes on.”
“Well, excuse me,” Lenora said. “I forgot that I can’t assume anything when it comes to you and your men.”
“That’s right. I’m an equal opportunity sister. Seriously, though, I think we have a better chance of getting into The Girlfriends this year than we did last, since we attended more of their social events. I’m excited.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lenora said. “I was surprised when they rejected us last year with Alise sponsoring us.”
“I know. That was frustrating, made me wonder if it’s even worth all the trouble,” Monica said. “You know how some people say they’re a bunch of hard-partying snobs and not very organized.”
“They’re just jealous ’cause they can’t get in,” Lenora said. “The members know how to have a good time, but they do a lot of good deeds in the community. Like that charity event for sickle-cell anemia that we went to a few weeks ago. There’s no harm in having fun while helping a good cause.”
“Preach on, sister.”
Lenora laughed. “You know I’m right.”
“I have to run. Got a pre-op prep coming up,” Monica said. “I’ll call Alise during my lunch break and invite her to my place on Saturday for lunch. And you, no more canceling.”
“Make that a late lunch,” Lenora said. “It will probably be late afternoon, early evening before Gerald leaves my place.”
“Whatever,” Monica said. “Just please don’t let him change your mind again. I’ll get back to you tonight after I talk to Alise. Let’s hope she can come. She might be doing something with her family.”
“Will you stop being so negative? Jeez.”
“Just keeping it real. I—”
“Hold on,” Lenora said as Dawna walked into her office. Lenora covered the telephone’s mouthpiece. “Yes?” she asked her boss.
“I need to see you now,” Dawna said curtly.
“Be right there,” Lenora said and Dawna walked off.
“I gotta go,” Lenora said to Monica. “Go find that hot lab tech and get yourself some good vanilla lovin’ tonight.”
“I’ll try my best,” Monica said, laughing. “Talk to you later.”
Lenora hung up and grabbed a notepad and pen. Whatever Dawna wanted, she didn’t look too pleased. Then again, Dawna never looked pleased. The woman’s smile, on the rare occasions it was displayed, looked more like a sneer.
Lenora entered Dawna’s office and was about to sit in the chair across from the desk when Dawna held up her hand, palm out. “Don’t bother to sit,” Dawna said. “You don’t have time.”
Lenora straightened her shoulders. “Okaaay.”
“I got permission for you to shoot Ray Shearer and his crew at the Moss Building today.”
“You mean the creepy place near Johns Hopkins that needs a ton of work done on it?” Lenora asked with disbelief.
“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
Lenora cleared her throat. “Yes, you certainly did.” Although why the boss would want to feature such a hideous piece of property in the Baltimore Scene was beyond her.
“I went by there yesterday afternoon and finally was able to work something out with the manager this morning. Ray was also there when I went.”
“So you met Raymond?” Lenora asked, noting that Dawna referred to him as Ray rather than Raymond.
“I hadn’t realized how young he was.” Dawna managed one of her infrequent smiles. “Or how charming. Both Ray and Steve were actually very nice.”
So somehow Dawna had been able to get to these men and accomplish what she couldn’t. Maybe the woman had a sweeter, gentler side to her that she revealed only for special people or occasions. Or maybe Dawna was able to get men to do what she wanted because of her stunning good looks. Lenora suspected the latter.
“Should I make it a before-and-after shoot?” Lenora asked.
“No, I couldn’t get permission for all of that. You only have today.”
Lenora almost choked. The grounds of the Moss Building were a photographer’s nightmare. She stared at her boss in horror. “Are you serious? That place looks disgusting right now.”
“I realize that, which is why I’m sending you to do the job. You’ll think of a way to make us all look good. I’m depending on you.”
“But it’s impossible to make a place that shoddy look good.”
“Use your imagination,
” Dawna said. “Focus on Ray. Fill the shots with his face. I don’t know, but I’m sure you can think of ways to feature that hunk of chocolate goodness. And Linda will write the article. Talk to her to find out what angle she’s using.”
“Yeah, ‘Nightmare at the Moss Building,’ ” Lenora said wryly.
Dawna smacked her lips and ignored the comment. Once Dawna had made up her mind about something, it was next to impossible to get her to change it.
“Here’s the address,” Dawna said, holding out a slip of paper. “Now go fix what you initially screwed up. I have every confidence that you can do this. You’re my best photographer and I expect great things.”
Lenora still had the address but decided not to mention that. Dawna was being nicer to her than usual, and Lenora didn’t want to say or do anything to ruin that. Instead she accepted Dawna’s offering and turned toward the doorway.
“And, Lenora,” Dawna said.
Lenora turned and looked back at her boss.
“If you fuck this up again, your ass is mine.”
Lenora shuddered as she shut the door to Dawna’s office. She should have known that her boss could stay sweet only so long.
Chapter 7
Lenora pulled up to the Moss Building and gritted her teeth at the sight. She hadn’t really grasped just how awful the place was when she was here before. Now that she knew she had to make this sorry site look good, at least in the background of her photographs, the ugliness of the place slammed her like a tidal wave hits the shore. She would give anything to be back at the luxury condo on the waterfront.
She got out of the car and stood there a moment before the tangled weeds, overgrown grass, and dead trees to think about how she might handle the assignment. Fortunately, the weather was cooperating somewhat. It was cloudy bright and a soft light illuminated the scene. This was her favorite kind of weather for outdoor portraits, and it would be easier to blur the background in her shots.
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