“You look sad.”
“I’m tired.”
Naomi knew the difference.
“What happened?”
Evelyn sat down.
“A woman accused me of stealing her bracelet.”
Naomi stopped eating.
“Did you?”
Her mother looked at her.
“No.”
Naomi immediately felt ashamed.
“I know.”
Evelyn smiled sadly.
“It’s okay.”
“What happened?”
“They searched my cart.”
“Why?”
“Because she said it was missing.”
“Did they find it?”
“No.”
“Then they knew you didn’t take it.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“They found the bracelet later.”
“Where?”
“In the woman’s suitcase.”
Naomi waited.
“Did she say sorry?”
Evelyn looked toward the window.
“No.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing.”
Naomi became angry in the pure, uncomplicated way only children can.
“That’s not fair.”
“No.”
“They should make her say sorry.”
Evelyn smiled.
“The world doesn’t always do that.”
“Then the world is stupid.”
Her mother laughed.
“Sometimes.”
Naomi remembered that conversation for years.
She remembered another one when she was thirteen.
Evelyn had finally been promoted to housekeeping supervisor.
She came home carrying a bakery box.
“We’re celebrating.”
Naomi opened it.
Cupcakes.
“For what?”
“I got the promotion.”
Naomi screamed.
They danced inside the kitchen.
For that night, the Ashford Grand felt like a place that had given something to them instead of taking.
Years later, Naomi would learn that her mother had trained half the department before management finally gave her the title.
By sixteen, Naomi wanted nothing to do with hotels.
“I’m never working in one.”
Evelyn smiled.
“Good.”
“You hate it too?”
“No.”
“Then why good?”
“Because I didn’t clean rooms so you could feel obligated to clean rooms.”
Naomi frowned.
“There’s nothing wrong with cleaning rooms.”
“Correct.”
“So why do you say it like that?”
Evelyn looked at her daughter.
“Because there is also nothing wrong with wanting choices.”
That sentence stayed with Naomi.
She became obsessed with choices.
College gave her some.
Scholarships gave her more.
She studied finance at Howard University, graduated near the top of her class and took a job at an investment bank in New York.
Evelyn could barely understand what Naomi did.
“So people give you money?”
“No.”
“You give them money?”
“Sometimes.”
“Whose money?”
“Usually other people’s.”
Evelyn looked horrified.
“That sounds illegal.”
Naomi laughed.
“It’s not.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because I don’t have bail money.”
Naomi worked harder than almost anyone around her.