She could hear the door of reason locking behind Troy. Her heart weighed heavy in her chest. “I guess it’s lucky that Connie and I don’t need your permission to room together.” Andrea recradled her telephone receiver.
Troy trusted Constance. Why wouldn’t he trust her? And why did it bother her so much?
“We’re glad you came.” An hour later, Andrea’s roommate shook Constance’s hand as the young mother stood in the entryway of their three-bedroom apartment. Faith then bent to cup Tiffany’s tiny right shoulder. “Hi, Tiffany. I’m Faith. I’m happy to meet you.”
The three-year-old stepped back. She regarded Faith with healthy suspicion, a look that reminded Andrea of the toddler’s mother. Constance stroked her daughter’s fine, honey-blond hair. “Can you say ‘hi’ to Miss Faith?”
Tiffany responded with a barely audible whisper.
Andrea extended her hand. “Let me take your jackets. Then I’ll show you where you can freshen up before dinner.”
Constance smiled at Faith as she helped Tiffany pull off her jacket. “Something smells wonderful.”
Faith glanced at the kitchen to their right. “I made spaghetti for us. But I thought Tiffany would prefer chicken nuggets and French fries.”
Constance chuckled. “Finger foods. Perfect.”
More than an hour later, the dining room table was cleared and the dishwasher was loaded. Even better, Tiffany had lost most of her shyness. Constance helped her small daughter onto the thick, brown sofa, settling Tiffany between her and Andrea. Faith sat on the tan love seat facing them.
Tiffany angled her head to look up at Andrea. “My mommy goes to work.” When the little girl had found her voice, she’d pumped up its volume. Still, her wide green eyes, so like her mother’s, appeared drowsy.
Andrea responded to her young companion in a serious tone. “I know. I’ve seen your mommy at work.”
Tiffany studied Andrea for a moment before relaxing against her mother’s side.
Constance glanced from Andrea to Faith. “Dinner was delicious. Thank you for inviting us.”
Faith crossed her jeans-clad legs. “You’re welcome.”
Andrea shifted her attention from daughter to mother. “Now that you’re working, how long will the shelter allow you to stay with them?”
The pleasure in Constance’s expression dimmed. “They aren’t pressuring us to leave, but I know they’d like to make room for people who are in worse trouble than Tiff and me.”
Tiffany again spoke up. “When my mommy is at work, I stay with Sister Julie.”
Constance wrapped her arm around Tiffany’s tiny torso. “Sister Julianne is in charge of Morning Glory’s day care. They accept donations.”
Andrea brushed a gentle finger across Tiffany’s tiny hand. It was coming up on seven o’clock in the evening. The little girl was growing tired. “Do you like Sister Julianne?”
Tiffany nodded groggily. “But I like my mommy better.”
Andrea grinned. “That’s ni
ce.” She laid her hand back in her lap. “Can she stay at day care even when you move out of the shelter?”
“As long as I can show a financial need.” Constance tucked her hair behind her ears. “My salary is good. But it will be a while before I get on my feet.”
Andrea glanced down at Tiffany. The little girl’s eyes were closed and her lips were parted. Her breathing was deep and even in sleep. She looked at Faith. Her friend nodded. “Faith and I would like you and Tiff to move in with us.”
Constance’s shaky laughter betrayed her nerves. “We don’t really know each other.”
Faith tilted her head to the side. “Do you know anyone else better who has an apartment in Brooklyn?”
Constance’s cheeks flushed. “I guess not. But I have to be extra careful because of Tiff.”
Andrea looked from mother to daughter. “We understand. You don’t have to worry about a long-term commitment. If things don’t work out, just give Faith and me thirty days’ notice, then you can move out. No hard feelings.”
Constance’s gaze remained on her sleeping daughter. She was silent for such a long time Andrea began to wonder at her thoughts.