Disappearing Acts by Terry McMillan Read Free Book Online

know how the roaches and water bugs getting in here either. Tribes of ’em. We gon’ have to fumigate this place good before anybody even
think
about moving in here.”
    Mice? Water bugs and roaches? This place is brand-new. Was he joking? “Are you the owner?”
    “I wish I was. He’s back there,” he said, pointing down a long hallway. “Hey, Vinney!” he yelled. “Somebody’s here to see you, man.”
    Before I started in that direction, I did notice that the living room was big and shaped like an L. Three tall windows extended from the ceiling almost to the floor, which meant sunshine. The kitchen was over in a corner, but I could live with that. Halfway down the hall was the bathroom. I peeked in and turned on thelight. I couldn’t believe it. A sea-blue bathtub, toilet, and sink! And clean white tile on the floor and walls, and one of those orange lamps in the ceiling to help you dry off. So far so good. When I entered the doorway at the end of the hall, I was standing inside a sunny bedroom, with two more windows.
    “Hello, Miss Banks,” the owner said, then reached out to shake my hand. I shook his, even though it was filthy.
    “Let me say first off that we’ll be finished in a day or so. You like what you see?”
    “The man up front said he didn’t know when you’d be finished. He also said there were problems with bugs and mice.”
    “That’s bullshit. First of all, like I said, we’ll be finished in a day or two. And we ain’t seen nothing crawling around in here except men. The place has been completely gutted—everything in here is brand-new. Frankie’s known for being a jokester, but today he’s pushing it.”
    Frankie? What a stupid name for such a striking man. “What’s this little room over here?” I asked.
    “Oh, that’s just sort of an extra-large closet. It’s too small to call it a bedroom, which is why we didn’t put it in the ad. Perfect for a kid, though. But you said you didn’t have kids. Use it for storage, whatever.”
    It was a tiny room, but I guessed I could squeeze my piano in. I walked over to the window. At least there were trees back there, even if they were in other people’s yards. I looked down at the wooden planks under my feet. “What are you going to do to the floors?”
    “We’re laying the finest carpet available in every room except the kitchen area and bathroom. Sort of a beigy color—neutral, you know. That suit you?”
    “There’s no way you could put in hardwood floors?”
    “You want the apartment? There’s plenty of interestin it already. I coulda rented it this morning, but I knew you were coming, and I wanted to be fair, you know.”
    “If you can put in hardwood floors and guarantee that the stairwell won’t look like it does now for too much longer, I’ll take it.”
    “First off, when you renovate a whole building, you always save the stairs till last, or they’d be worse off with all the ripping and running the men do up and down ’em. And hardwood floors? It’ll cost you a few dollars extra for the labor, and’ll add a few more days to the job.”
    “How much extra?”
    “Not much, if you get pine. Don’t worry, we can work something out. You positive you want wood? They collect dust like there ain’t no tomorrow.”
    “I’m positive.” I didn’t care about the dust. When I first walked in here, I had already pictured shiny wood floors, not some drab carpet. And I hate beige. It’s so boring.
    “Frankie,” he yelled. “Come in here a minute, would you?”
    He walked back into the bedroom, ducking his head under the arch. I tried not to look directly at him, because I was thinking that I wished he came with the place. I tried, instead, to look indifferent.
    “What’s up, boss?” he asked sarcastically.
    “Why’d you tell this young lady all those lies?”
    He threw his arms up in the air and grinned. And had the nerve to have dimples. “I was just kidding, boss.”
    “One day all your kidding is gonna