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Tia Marie guides us inside. Mateo closes the door behind us, and I’m blown away.
"Take her luggage upstairs, and I'll give her the tour." She guides me forward, and I'm ready to see every inch of the house.
"We only have one-hour, Tia," Mateo calls from behind us.
“We’ll be back.”
The entry floor is the family area. A living room, formal dining room, kitchen, family room, and several bathrooms. The decor is modern and sleek. The monochromatic color scheme in shades of gray moves from room to room, but each has a different accent color. The tour is quick, but I notice black, teal, and red.
“We can take the stairs or the elevator.”
"Elevator?" I turn around, and Tia Marie is waiting by a single door elevator. "So, this building is one house."
"Si. I'll show you my floor, and we'll see the others tomorrow." We take the stairs. "I stay on this floor to keep an ear on the house.”
“You live here?” I ask.
"Uh, huh. It's how Mateo wanted it."
He did it. He told me he’d do it and he did. The sprawling mansion is beyond impressive. Tia Marie’s “floor” is a full apartment with a living room, bedroom, one and a half bathrooms, and a kitchen. Her decor is vibrant, and it feels like a home reflecting her jovial energy.
I stop looking at her magnificent view.
"Welcome to New York, sobrina."
My heart warms at her calling me niece. “Thank you, Tia Marie.”
“Let me show you my favorite room.”
She walks with a bounce in her step, and I follow to the back room. She opens the door stepping aside, and I enter a sewing room. I stand in the middle and turn a tight circle.
“You’re a quilter.”
“And do you remember this?”
She walks over to a closet and removes a blanket. She peels back the folds, and I can't see through my tears. "He kept it."
“No, chica, he killed it.”
We laugh as I gather the quilt to my chest. It’s the first quilt I made, and he insisted on keeping it. I run my hands over the unraveling seams.
"I wasn't very good then," I admit.
“We never are in the beginning. Now let’s get you back downstairs.”
I gather the quilt to my chest, inhaling Mateo's scent. I fold it gently and set it on a side table.
"You can come and sew anytime," she offers, closing the door behind us.
“I plan to take you up on that offer.”
We take the elevator back down, and I can't believe he still has that quilt. We stumbled on a small quilt shop in Austin one weekend, and as a Christmas gift, he bought me a gift certificate to a beginner's class. I went with my little Singer machine from Walmart.
"Are you okay, chica?"
“Yes, ma’am. That quilt brings back good memories.”
“It does for you both.”
