singing there or go to music school anytime you want.”
“I’m not giving up,” I said. I tried to sound as firm about it as I could.
“Okay. But I’d like you to take a day or so off and rest up a bit. You’re driving yourself too hard.”
“I need the money, Mr. Manning, more than ever now. I’ll be more careful. I promise,” I said. My voice resonated with pleading.
“I’m giving you a little bonus you can use to compensate for the two days.”
“Why?”
“You’re my hardest worker. You deserve it.”
I couldn’t help being suspicious. “Is this a bonus or a handout?”
He laughed. “Handout? Didn’t take you long to become a New Yorker. It’s a bonus. See? I had it in here just waiting for the right moment. Just don’t announce it out there.”
He reached into his top drawer and took out an envelope.
“Go on. Take it and rest up. See you for the morning shift in two days.”
I took it and got up. At the door, I turned and looked back at him. “This didn’t come from Mr. Wollard, did it?”
“Don’t insult me,” he said, but I didn’t believe him. “I’ll post your apartment again. Go on.”
“Thank you,” I said, and left. Despite what he had claimed about the money, I still felt like the recipient of charity, and just the vision of my father’s expression made me feel like some of or maybe all the homeless people I saw in the streets surely felt, diminished, less than human.
Leo Abbot was either waiting for me or saw me coming home earlier than usual and didn’t wait for me at his doorway, either. He was there at the main entrance to greet me. I had a suspicion that Donald Manning might have called him, too.
“Aren’t you feeling well?” he asked immediately.
“I’m fine,” I said. “It just wasn’t turning out to be a good day for me. Thank you.” I was not in the mood to do much talking, but he wasn’t stepping out of my way.
“You should go home, Emma,” he said. “There’s no shame in it. You gave it as big an effort as anyone could.”
“Oh, no, Leo. I’ve just gotten started,” I said, but not with the enthusiasm I would have felt when I had first arrived.
“You could go home and get rejuvenated and then come back in the spring and give it another try, Emma.”
“But I’d lose the apartment. You’d have to rent it.”
“There are other apartments, ones not so expensive, in the Bronx or Queens. Now that you know the city better, you don’t have to be so close to the restaurant.”
“Who says I’d still have that job?”
“Go home. Rethink it all. It’s best to be around people who love you and those you love when you’re making big decisions about your life.”
I shook my head. “Did you ever hear of a novel titled You Can’t Go Home Again?”
“No, but I’m not that much of a reader. I should be. What happens in it?”
“People back home believe you think less of them because you’ve left to go to places that are more exciting and promising. They realize you think you can’t be satisfied the way they were. It’s not exactly what happens, but it’s the way things often are. There’s a resentment and a pleasure in seeing you so desperate. Besides, Leo, I could tolerate living homeless more than living under my father’s ego now.”
“It’s that bad, is it?”
“For me, it is. I’ll make the rent. Don’t worry.”
“You hurt me when you say it like that, Emma. I’m thinking more of you.”
“I’m sorry, Leo. This isn’t my day for doing things right, even saying them right. I need some sleep,” I said, and headed up.
He remained there looking up at me.
I had a little dinner, read some to keep my mind off things, and went to sleep early. I had yet to do anything that was fun in New York, so the next day I decided to be a tourist for the day and even went to the top of the Empire State Building. It was cold but clear, and at least for a few minutes, I could feel like I was on top of the world.
I had a call from a prospective new roommate the following morning and met her at the café on our corner an hour later. She looked to be younger than I was and had her shoulder-length hair dyed red, green, and yellow. Her name was Marla Green, and she said she was