Jamal bent to kiss her cheek as though she were his grandmother, and she waved at him with her hand. She stood in the room so naturally it was clear she belonged to the place, and it to her. Groups of worn chairs filled the space, arms draped with doilies and lace; there was one sofa near the window and many chairs with small tables in front of them or beside them, more like a club lounge than a parlor. A sense of too much furniture, as though the room would like to breathe. On the wall above the wainscoting hung dingy, flowered wallpaper, a cream background with a foreground of streamers of yellow roses. A copy of the Venus de Milo, oddly large, stood atop a wardrobe in the far corner. The statue appeared to preside over the room, as though her arms would have been making a blessing of grace if they had been present.

“What problem are you talking about? Who is this, is this Jamal?” Mrs. Delacy was looking around, trying to get Jamal’s face in her field of vision. She had a way of moving that exaggerated her poor eyesight. Her eyes shone dimly, a runny, watery blue.

“The problem with the room upstairs, Miss Dee.”

Mrs. Delacy had found Ronny in front of her and was looking at him as if trying to bring him into focus. “Who’s this one?”

Ronny offered his hand and touched hers for a moment, a motionless handshake. Her skin felt soft and warm, the bones tiny. “I’m a friend of Jamal’s from class,” he said, and gave his name.

She was beginning to understand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Ronny wants the room upstairs for the summer, Miss Dee.”

“You mean the one next to you. Oh yes. That boy can’t take it till the fall.”

“But Ronny can take it till then.”

Mrs. Delacy looked at Ronny again. “You want to rent that room, do you?”

“Yes, ma’am. I want to see it. But I’m pretty sure I’ll take it.”

“For the summer only, you know. You have to leave in September because I already rented it to the other boy. I forget his name, I wrote it down in my book.”

“I only want it for the summer.”

“Well, praise the lord.” She threw up her hands and looked in the direction of the statue. “Come on and let me open it up for you.”

“I’ll go up first,” Jamal said, and trundled up the stairs, pulling up his pants at the back as he climbed. “To make sure everybody’s decent.”

“You better do that. I don’t need to see anybody’s butt end. I don’t want any shocks, old as I am.” Mrs. Delacy led Ronny to the steps and he walked behind her as she climbed them one at a time. She moved lightly but deliberately, careful to touch the nearest wall or the stair banister, whatever might be closest, as though to reassure herself of something solid on which to lean. “I have all boys here, you know. I don’t like young girls in the house, they make too many changes. But I like boys. I liked you right away even though I just now met you. You’ll be good in this room.” She stopped to get her breath. “I go pretty slow.”