TINA MOVES
Mom, ailing daughter finally are able to leave Sandpiper Cove.
Because she did not believe that they would really have a new home in the morning, Aaliyah Lewis woke her mother up throughout the night.
1 a.m. 2 a.m. 3 a.m. (It was still dark out, her mother complained. Go back to sleep.)
4 a.m. 5 a.m. (It was a little lighter outside, Aaliyah pointed out.)
7:30 a.m. (Yes. Finally. Time to get up.)
Their meeting was set for 8:30 a.m. Aaliyah and her mother, Tina Harris, walked the 2.9 miles from their apartment at Sandpiper Cove, a HUD-subsidized complex in Galveston where they had lived for six years, to what might be their new home in a private complex called Carelton Courtyard. The walls are yellow. The street is quiet. It was nothing like Sandpiper.
Tina had begun the application process months ago. She wanted out of Sandpiper. The window leaked, she had substances that looked like mold, and Aaliyah had been hospitalized three times in a year for breathing problems that her doctors believe were exacerbated by her living conditions. When the pandemic hit and Tina’s work as a home health aide trailed off, she’d had to tell the manager at Carelton Courtyard that she had to stop the process. She had no way of paying a deposit, much less the rent.
Bonnie Nutt has managed Carelton Courtyards for nine months. She moved to Galveston from Amarillo. She heard about what Tina and Aaliyah dealt with at Sandpiper, and she called Tina up Monday night. She could get them a move-in special, she said. They should come right away. (“I just couldn’t bear to leave them out there,” she said. “I have kids.”)
They met with Bonnie on Tuesday morning in the office building, painted blue with silver seagull silhouettes mounted on the wall. Tina sat in the chair and cried. Aaliyah was not so sure. She still did not have her keys.
Come back at 2 pm., Bonnie told them. The keys would be ready then.
They returned. Tina skipped up the steps. “Ready?” Tina asked. “Yes.”
“Ready for our big moment?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Bonnie led them upstairs, through the key-coded gates to their third-floor apartment. The appliances and the walls are white. It has only one bedroom, but they’ve done that before. Aaliyah’s room at Sandpiper smelled so bad that they had closed it off entirely. But unlike Sandpiper, their new apartment is clean.
“This is your home, as of now,” Bonnie said. (Tina jumped up and down.) “Your paperwork is signed; everything is done already.”
“OK,” Aaliyah said. Tina squealed. She pulled Bonnie in for a hug. Aaliyah latched onto them both. They still had to change out the keys.
Back at the office, Bonnie handed Tina a black folder with her move-in paperwork. Aaliyah leaned over and stared at it.
“We’ve already got it filled, right?” she asked.
“Yes, honey. Don’t be all nervous about it.” “OK.”
“100, you’re in. I just have to fill this out. That’s all it is.”
“OK.”
“You scared they’ll change their mind?” “No — Yes. Kinda.” “You’re waiting for the keys, aintcha baby? You’re not leaving till you get them keys.”
“Yeah.”
Bonnie had disappeared to the back room. When she came back, she had their apartment keys and swipe card. Aaliyah reached out for them. She put the keycard in her black purse and turned the brass apartment key over in her hands. As Tina chatted with Bonnie, Aaliyah stared at her key. She told her mother they would sleep at Carelton that night. She would not sleep at Sandpiper ever again.
They plan to buy a welcome mat for their apartment — their first welcome mat in six years. They will go back to Sandpiper Cove for their clothes. They will get rid of their furniture. They do not need the must or the memories.