03

I shook my head, sitting on the living room couch and said, « Not really. I just checked my account today because I wanted to see how much I had to order some take out. »

« Good thing you checked before you did anything, » She smiled, sitting on the rocking couch and pulled out the newspaper. « Why don’t we check the paper to see for any jobs ? »

I nodded and watched as she flipped through the pages slowly. Mrs. Maggie’s apartment had almost a charming allure to it. It always smelled clean and cookies, if she was baking. Today she had been shopping, but later at night I knew she would make some delicious macadamia nut cookies and I’d definitely be over to eat them all.

« Would you like to babysit ? » She peered at me over the paper.

I shook my head, grimacing at the thought of taking care of little brats. I liked children, but I did not want to babysit to make a living and with my luck it would be an undercover way of murderer kidnapping me and chopping me up into little pieces.

Mrs. Maggie chuckled and kept looking through the newspaper as I looked around. She had lots of framed articles, commending her dancing and beauty. She truly was an amazing person.

« Ooh, how about cleaning ? »

I frowned, looking up at her. « What ? »

« How do you feel about cleaning ? There’s an ad here about a cleaning agency. It’s quick, easy money and no contract, so you’re not stuck there forever. »

I grimaced, scrounging my nose and shook my head. « I don’t really like cleaning for other people. Heck, I only clean up after myself because I hate seeing things dirty, but if it were up to me, I’d live in filth ! »

Mrs. Maggie stood up and walked over to me. I raised an eyebrow, just watching her and she swatted me with the newspaper. « Child ! You’re in no position to be picky ! Rent is due in a week and trust me, you don’t want to owe money to Mr. Greene ; he’s a terrible toad. »

I giggled, rubbing the spot on my arm where she hit me and said, « I don’t want to work cleaning for people, Mrs. Maggie ! People are dirty and what if they hire me to clean up after a murderer ?! »

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, « What is with you and killers in New York ? You think that Mr. Balewa is a serial killer and that half the people in this building are crazy. »

« It was an asylum before an apartment complex, Mrs. Maggie, » I nodded my head, surely, « I just know it ! There’s no way that sane people will live in this dingy place willingly ! »

She laughed, patting my head and said, « Oh, child, not everything is what it seems. And are you trying to say that you and I are not sane ? »

« Well, » I bit my bottom lip, « I know I’m crazy and you…I mean no disrespect, Mrs. Maggie, but you associate with me and that automatically makes you crazy. »

Mrs. Maggie tsk’ed her tongue, chuckling quietly at my antics and placed the newspaper in front of me. « I’m going to start making cookies, do you want to help ? »

Like Toby, my ears perked up and I sat straighter. « Macadamia ? »

She nodded. « Yes. »

I quickly stood up, « Mrs. Maggie, you know the quickest way into my heart. »

She laughed, pulling out the ingredients for the cookies and began manoeuvring herself around the kitchen expertly.

« Hey, » I called after her, « what if I’m a stripper ? »

« Oh, » She raised an eyebrow, « and what would be your name ? »

« Mm, » I tapped my chin, thoughtfully, « it has to be something good. How about…sofrito ? »

She gave me a confused look. « The green stuff you use to make your delicious rice ? »

I laughed, « Yes ! Or, or, how about, » I raised my hands over my head, mimicking a rainbow, « Adobo ? I add delicious spice to your life ! »

Mrs. Maggie simply looked at me seriously and I burst out laughing. « Eh, eh ? You like ? »

« Oh, child, » she sighed, a small smile curling at the sides of her lips, « you really need to work on better names if you want to be a stripper. In the meantime, we’ll make cookies and you’ll think about that cleaning job. »

I pouted my lips and glanced at the newspaper on the table. Maybe cleaning wouldn’t be such a terrible idea.

I had a bit of compulsive cleaning tendencies and I was organised. Plus, it was easy, quick money and I could just do it for rent money and look elsewhere for the rest of the month.

Maybe, I can even wear a sexy French maid outfit. That’ll definitely get me the job !

One of my favourite things about spending time with Mrs. Maggie – apart from eating her cookies – was making them with her. She actually didn’t let me touch the batter (because I’d want to eat it while it was raw,) so what I meant by ‘making cookies with her’ was that I sat on the bar stool, across the kitchen counter and watched her baking.

She would put on her vinyl records of Frank Sinatra and tell me of stories from specific songs. The joy that lit up in her face was so contagious and no matter how many times she told me her stories, I loved listening to them.

Mrs. Maggie was a great story-teller and listening to how she fell in love was one of my favourite things.

« Ah, » Mrs. Maggie chuckled as she whisked the batter, « this song reminds me of my Noah and me. »

I leaned forward on the counter, propping my head on my hands and tilted my head to the side. « Ooh, tell me about it ! »

She grinned, twirling around as she held the bowl of batter and let out a happy sigh. « Well, I was 17 and we were in London for a ballet competition. The year was 1961 and during that time things between the U.S. and Russia weren’t very peaceful, so they had American soldiers almost everywhere. The night before our competition, the girls and I went to a local bar to meet some nice soldiers and just have some fun. » Her blue eyes glazed over in happiness and she closed them, smiling happily as she went back in time, « I can just remember the sweet scent of all the perfume we put on to impress the boys. »

Mrs. Maggie chuckled, shaking her head and continued with her story. « The first time I saw Noah, I thought that I was hallucinating. The one glass of alcohol I had was finally kicking in and I was dreaming up of a perfect man. He had these piercing green eyes and this smile that melted icebergs. » She sighed again and I grinned. « I didn’t think that I was pretty enough to get his attention and when I finally mustered up the courage to go up and talk to him, the Russian girls walked in. These girls were breathtakingly beautiful and confident as heck ! I sat back down and didn’t glance at him again. My teammates all got asked to dance and I stayed sitting in the booth, listening to Frank Sinatra because the only man that caught my attention was being wooed by Francesca Kamenev, one of the best ballerinas in all of Europe. »

I frowned, pouting my lips, but didn’t say anything. Every time she told me new stories of her past, I never imagined her to be the shy girl she was. Mrs. Maggie was confident and beautiful all in her own way. She had this almost older elegant beauty to her and I wished I looked like her when I grew up. She aged amazing !

« This song came on and I started singing under my breath because I loved Sinatra. Come Fly Away with Me was one of my favourites because of Noah. He sat across from me and asked me why I was sitting all lone while everyone else was dancing and having a good time. My heart almost dropped to my stomach ! » She giggled, « I don’t know how I spoke to him in clear sentences, but one second he was introducing himself to me and the next we were twirling around the dancefloor all night. Ah, the look on Kamenev’s face was priceless ! »

« That’s so sweet, Mrs. Maggie, » I grinned.

She opened her eyes, smiling and nodded. « Oh, he was such a gentleman. That was probably the best night of my life and I cherished it for the rest of my days in London. I thought I’d never see him again. I was 18 and a ballerina ; he was 20 and in the Army. There was just no way that our paths would cross again. When I returned to America, I met Bobby Johnson and we married a couple of months later. My parents were static because he was a good boy and had some money saved up. »