used the furniture. Yet it was not at all disturbing to answer him. “But not Mr. Singer’s child. Just mine. And only one. A boy.”
“I see,” Habi said softly. He was clearly hesitant to inquire further.
“Would you like to know his name?”
He nodded.
“It’s Nicholas.”
“Nicholas,” he said, the sound of it mysterious and dashing in his accent. “That is a fine name.”
“Yes,” June said. “I’ve always thought so.”
After she locked the apartment door she handed the keys to Habi. He was to let in the deliverymen the next morning, and once the new owners or their renters arrived he would give them the keys. She decided she wouldn’t bring up again how her attorney would someday-and perhaps quite soon-contact him in regard to the bequest she had arranged. In the scheme of her finances, ten thousand dollars was not a huge gift, and was just enough, she figured, for him to put toward a down payment on a house, or to open a store, perhaps a dress shop his wife could run. Though it was unlikely that she would ever see him again she didn’t want him to feel beholden to her because of some inordinate sum; she didn’t want him to have to think of her always in gratitude, which turns, too often, to resentment. In fact, he might refuse the gift, when the day did come. He could never care about something like money in the same way she could never care about it; she knew they were alike that way, but she wanted to do something for him, to show him a kindness, and as there was no time left for a deepening friendship, there was little else for her to give him but the furniture, and this.
He placed the garbage bags into the elevator and rode down with her to the lobby. When they stepped out, three tenants were waiting for the car. On seeing Habi, they immediately peppered him with requests, June caught in the line of fire as they asked how soon he could unplug a drain, fix a dishwasher, call in the exterminator. While Habi patiently triaged their requests, June sidestepped through them, thinking that it would be best if she simply left right now, adieus never being easy for her. She was about to let herself out through the framed glass door when Habi called out somewhat sharply, “Mrs. Singer!” So she waited. When the tenants were satisfied they would be attended to and settled into the elevator, Habi turned to her and extended his hand. She shook it and let it go.
“It is possible that I may not see you here again, Mrs. Singer?”
“That’s right.”
“You will be going to where, Mrs. Singer? Another city?”
“Yes. But I’ll be traveling. To Europe. To Italy.”
“I have not been to that country,” Habi said. “They say it is a beautiful place.”
“I believe it is.”
“You have not been there?”
“Not yet.”
“You will be there for a long time?”
“I think so. Who knows. Maybe a very long time.”
He nodded, with an uneasy smile, for she was smiling at him, but he wasn’t looking at her as he always did with his clear-eyed directness. He clutched the ring of keys at his side. And all at once June felt that his interest in her plans masked a grave disappointment.
He said, “I am sorry that I could not help you more.”
“You’ve always helped me plenty.”
“I mean to say, during this difficult time.”
“You shouldn’t feel that way,” she said. “And let’s be honest, not everything can be helped.”
He assented with a low hum in his throat. She felt a similar thrum in her chest and couldn’t help but say: “I only wish you would let me help you. You must know how pleased I would be if you would accept something.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Singer,” he said. “I am doing fine on my own.”
“I know you are. But it wouldn’t hurt anyone. Especially me. You should remember that. I have more than I will ever need.”
“I am fine, Mrs. Singer, thank you.”
“All right. Goodbye, then, Habi. Good luck to you.”
“Goodbye, Mrs. Singer.”
They shook