For some reason Cypress thought about her mother in Carolina, weaving away whole years of her life, but not losing control of any. She saw her mama over the stove, going on about the kind of place New York was and why she’d never go there . . . but she trusted the Lord to look after her dancing daughter in that hellified place where sin and temptation whet every appetite. Cypress hoped she was thinking loud enough for her mama to hear, “Well, Ma, we’re in New York now,” but her mother was still over the stove and had no useful information concerning social amenities in this situation. Cypress choked a desperate laugh that caused Laura and Idrina to jump back and ask what was wrong. Cypress swallowed a little, and fighting tears ready to reveal her innocence, not her worldliness, said, “Oh, nothing.” Still, she asked herself what her mama would do, now . . . only to hear her mama’s voice saying, “No girl. I don’t know what you’re doing.”

They made off for a Greek restaurant near 48th Street, Laura in the middle, Cypress and Idrina catching glimpses of one another over Laura’s head. A tense gaiety enveloped them. Cypress examined Laura, taking her apart gesture by gesture, limb by limb; the way her tongue fell through the tiny gap in her front teeth, while the diamonds shone on Idrina. Then before she knew exactly what she was doing, Cypress stopped, softly touched Laura’s shoulder, caught Idrina’s attention, pulled her dance bag closer to her and said:

“I’ve got a twelve o’clock jazz class way uptown. I had better catch the train.”

Laura didn’t seem to believe what Cypress was saying . . . “Oh, no . . . !”, and Cypress, laid back on her right hip, retorted,

“Oh, yes. ’Cause I’m gonna be someone to reckon with around here, sometime, so I got to go to class. Right, Idrina?”

All Idrina could bring herself to say was, “Uh huh, but are you gonna come to the concert tonight? It’ll be the first time that Azure Bosom has ever appeared before mixed audiences, you know.”

Cypress threw out an “Of course,” and was gone. Erzulie always thought she was cute.

Not much was on her mind except catching the A train, and getting rid of images of Laura and Idrina curled up on each other in a nostalgic twilight, but she thought hard again, trying to make her mama feel her gratitude.

“Mama, you lied. You knew just what to do. Don’t break bread with folks you can’t trust.”