Wednesday morning, Maya took the subway to Crown Heights.
The train was less crowded than usual. A woman across from her was reading a paperback. A teenager slept with his head against the window. Maya watched the stations pass – Franklin, Park Place, Botanic Garden. Each stop brought her closer to Mrs. Patterson.
The facility smelled of disinfectant and cooked vegetables.
Maya signed in at the front desk. The woman behind the counter gave her a visitor's badge and pointed toward the east wing. Room 217.
The door was open.
Mrs. Patterson sat in a wheelchair by the window. She wasn't looking at the brick wall. She was looking at her hands. They were folded in her lap.
"Mrs. P?"
The old woman turned. Her face changed when she saw Maya. Not a smile. Something softer. "You came."
"I said I would."
Mrs. Patterson gestured at the bed. "Sit. Tell me about the meeting."
Maya sat on the edge of the mattress. The sheets were thin. The pillow had a plastic cover under the case.
"Vanessa came," Maya said. "The lawyer. She gave us pamphlets. She said we need to form a tenant association."
"Did people come?"
"Some. Mr. Delgado. Jasmine. Marco. Mr. Chen." Maya paused. "The Kims didn't come. Neither did the Parkers."
Mrs. Patterson nodded slowly. "The Kims are leaving. The Parkers are afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of losing what little they have." The old woman looked out the window. The brick wall was close. "Fear makes people small."
Maya didn't know what to say to that.
"Did you eat breakfast?" Mrs. Patterson asked.
"Yes."
"You're lying."
Maya smiled. "Maybe a little."
Mrs. Patterson reached for her hand. Her fingers were cold. "There's a cafeteria downstairs. The food is terrible. But they have coffee."
"I'll get you some."
"Not for me. For you. You look tired."
Maya stood. "I'll be right back."
---
The cafeteria was empty except for a man in a bathrobe eating oatmeal.
Maya bought two coffees from a machine. The cups were styrofoam. The coffee was weak. She carried them back to room 217.
Mrs. Patterson had moved from the wheelchair to the bed. She was sitting up now, her back against the headboard.
Maya handed her a cup. The old woman held it with both hands.
"Tell me about the lawyer," Mrs. Patterson said. "Is she good?"
"She seemed good. She knew about the landlord. Haddad."
"He's a snake."
"You know him?"
"I know his type. He bought the building next door after the fire. Paid almost nothing. Now he's trying to unload it for ten times what he paid." Mrs. Patterson took a sip of coffee. Made a face. "This is terrible."
"I know."
"Drink it anyway."
Maya drank.
---
They sat in silence for a while. The clock on the wall ticked. A nurse walked past the door.
"Irene called this morning," Mrs. Patterson said. "She's back in Tampa. She said she'll come again next month."
"That's good."
"She also said I should sell the apartment."
Maya looked at her. "Sell?"
"I own it, Maya. I bought it in 1987. It's mine. If the building sells, I get money. Maybe enough to pay for this place for a few years."
Maya set down her coffee. "You're talking about giving up."
"I'm talking about being realistic."
"Those aren't the same thing."
Mrs. Patterson looked at her. Her eyes were clear. "I'm eighty-one years old. I had a heart attack. I can't climb three flights of stairs anymore. I can't carry groceries. I can't even turn on the oven without getting tired." She paused. "The building was my home. But it's not my home anymore."
Maya felt something tighten in her chest. "You're not going to fight?"
"I already fought. For thirty-seven years. I fought the landlord who let the pipes freeze. I fought the super who never fixed the buzzer. I fought the city when they tried to raise my property taxes." She squeezed Maya's hand. "Now it's your turn."
"I don't want your turn. I want you to come back."
"I know." Mrs. Patterson's voice was soft. "But I can't."
---
Maya stayed for another hour.
They talked about the garden. The tomatoes. The basil. Mrs. Patterson asked about Leo – who he was, where he lived, why he helped.
"He's complicated," Maya said.
"Complicated how?"
"He lives in a basement. He draws. He lost his mother."
Mrs. Patterson nodded. "That's not complicated. That's sad."
"Same thing sometimes."
"No. Complicated means he has secrets. Sad means he has wounds." The old woman looked at her. "Which one is it?"
Maya thought about the empty third floor. The lie about where he lived. The way he'd told her the truth anyway.
"Both," she said.
Mrs. Patterson didn't respond. She just held Maya's hand.
---
At noon, Maya left.
She walked to the subway. The platform was crowded. She stood near the yellow line and watched the tracks.
Her phone buzzed.
Leo: How is she?
Tired. Realistic. She's talking about selling her unit.
That's hard.
It's her choice.
Doesn't make it easier.
The train came. She got on. Stood holding a pole. The tunnels flashed past.
She typed: She asked about you.
What did you tell her?
That you're complicated.
A pause.
I am, he wrote.
I know.
---
She got off at her stop. Walked to the building. Mr. Chen was in the lobby, mopping the floor.
"How was she?" he asked.
"Settled. Not happy."
"Same as yesterday."
"I guess."
She went up to her room. The black sketchbook was on the desk. She'd left it open to the drawing of her garden. Leo's drawing.
She looked at it for a long time.
Then she pulled out her own sketchbook and started to draw. The bridge. The cables. The left tower, five degrees steeper. Her hand was steadier than before.
She drew until the light changed.
---
At 6 PM, she went to the roof.
The garden was fine. The tomatoes were standing. The basil had new leaves. She watered each plant slowly.
She sat on the milk crate and looked at the building across the alley. Third floor. Empty. But she knew Leo was down there.
She called him.
He answered on the second ring. "Hey."
"Hey."
"You're on the roof."
"How do you know?"
"I can hear the water tank. Same as before."
She looked at the water tank. The painted eye. "I'm going to visit Mrs. Patterson every Wednesday."
"That's good."
"She asked about you."
"I remember."
"She said complicated means secrets. Sad means wounds." Maya paused. "Which one are you?"
Leo was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "Both."
She closed her eyes.