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Authors: Bettye Griffin

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BOOK: If These Walls Could Talk
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Chapter 19
The Currys
November 2002
“R
euben, how do you feel about inviting Dawn and Milo to join us for Thanksgiving?” Camille asked. She sat at her vanity brushing her hair, while Reuben did opposing knee-to-elbow crunches on the carpeted floor. He'd decided he was getting too pudgy and started a workout regimen of push-ups and crunches, which he followed religiously every evening. She wished she had the discipline to exercise like he did. All that walking she did between Port Authority and her office left her exhausted and had minimal effect on her waistline. In six months she'd lost maybe five pounds. Reuben had dabbled in a little tennis with Bob Tillman and Jeff Willis last summer . . . maybe next summer she would take it up herself. Running after a flying tennis ball seemed like fabulous exercise.
“Do you really think they'd come? I would think that if they didn't go to the city they'd have company come out, like us.”
“No, Dawn said it would just be the three of them.” Camille wished
their
families would stay in the city, and in the end her relatives decided to do that, but her in-laws were coming en masse. Not only would they be dinner guests, but they expected her and Reuben to put them up for the night. They'd had to go out and buy an air mattress to provide room for all of them. She wasn't crazy about the idea of having wall-to-wall Negroes sleeping all over the place and having both Mitchell giving up his room to his grandmother and Shayla sharing her double bed with both of her teenage cousins, Tiffany and Kierra. The thought of three people sleeping in a double bed brought to mind images of the poorest of the poor, and she wanted none of it.
At least Saul and his girlfriend had sprung for a room at a local hotel, even if they planned to leave her little boy with them. Camille would put him and Mitchell on the air mattress, which she would set up in the family room. Brenda and Arnelle would share the sofa bed.
Unlike the Lees, whose basement gave them additional living space, their basement was more like a cellar. It had climate control, but the walls were unfinished and it had no carpeting. She could hardly send anyone down there to sleep; it would be like banishing someone to a dungeon.
Eventually they could probably fix up the basement—Linda and Bob Tillman had done theirs quite nicely—but it wasn't practical to think about that now, not while she was trying to save for the kids' Christmas plus host a Thanksgiving dinner for more than a dozen people.
“How will we fit three more at the table?” Reuben asked.
“We'll manage. The kids can eat in the kitchen. We'll move the card table in there and cover it with a tablecloth for extra seating. There'll be enough room for the adults to sit at the dining room table if we put both leaves in.”
“Fine with me. Mitchell will probably be thrilled to have their kid come over, since his cousins are all girls and Saul's girlfriend's son is so young. What's the Young's kid's name again?”
“Zach.”
“Yeah, that's it.” Reuben counted four more crunches aloud before letting his body go limp on the floor, where he laid for a few minutes, breathing audibly. “I'm going to take a shower.”
Camille smiled. In spite of the high monthly cost to maintain their home, she did love having their own private bathroom within their master suite, and so did he. Never again would Reuben have to wait in line to use the toilet or take a shower. Sometimes late at night on weekends when the kids were asleep they both got into the oversize tub for a romantic bubble bath complete with glasses of Chardonnay, and after relaxing for a few minutes they'd turn on the Jacuzzi jets for a water massage.
Yes, she still found it hard to believe that they actually had a home of their own.
She recalled that sinking feeling she'd always gotten when their vacations drew to a close, especially their most recent one in Orlando. Who wouldn't feel a little down after spending a week at a beautifully decorated two-bedroom furnished apartment and riding around in a brand-new convertible, and then having to check out, return the car, and go back to their own apartment and vehicle? But she'd never have to feel that way again. Shayla said it best: living here was like being on vacation all the time.
Lord, she wished weekends lasted as long as the workweek. She loved being home, and not only just to enjoy her surroundings. Camille even enjoyed doing housework, grocery shopping, laundry . . . and, most of all, making love to Reuben, something they were often too tired to indulge in after long days traveling back and forth to the city, except for those quick sessions that ended within ten minutes. She felt especially happy now because she'd be home all next week, preparing for their first holiday season in the new house.
She would begin holiday shopping during her time off. The kids had a scaled-back Christmas last year because of the upcoming move, but this year she wanted to go all out. They'd roast marshmallows in the fireplace and sing Christmas carols. Over the long Thanksgiving weekend they would decorate the outside of the house with Christmas lights, something she suspected many of the neighbors would do as well. Their street would look like a winter wonderland if everyone decorated their home. She'd already bought their decorations at the big BJ's Wholesale Club in Stroudsburg. The lights along the edge of the roof, plus the 3-D Santa and reindeer set meant they'd have a larger electric bill, but it would be worth it.
She hoped they would have snow for Christmas. That would make everything absolutely perfect.
Her raise in salary made life a lot more pleasant and eased some of her worries. Even better than that, she and Reuben had found a young neighbor girl to sit with Mitchell and Shayla until 6:30 in the evening. The kids were overjoyed not to spend hours after school at the library anymore. Camille had bought a large Crock-Pot and used it often, so the kids could have a hot meal before she and Reuben returned home just before 8:00. Mitchell was already a husky kid, and Camille didn't want him to gain weight from eating just before bedtime.
She shivered. Funny, it was always so cold in the house, almost like she had a window open, putting out the welcome mat for the November chill to come in and get comfy.
She got up and stood in front of the window. Yep, she could definitely feel a draft. They'd bought oil-filled radiators for the bedrooms to help keep warm, especially overnight, but those didn't do much good in large, open spaces, like the kitchen and family room. Even with drapes covering the windows, those areas still tended to be cool.
Impulsively she pressed her palm to the wall at a spot well away from the window. The wall felt cold to her hand. Suddenly she remembered Lance Howard at their housewarming party last summer predicting they would freeze in the winter because their house had poor insulation. She'd attributed his remarks to jealousy; they had a house, while all he'd ever be able to do was build homes he could never afford to own. As far as she was concerned, their house being chilly in spots was nothing more than mere coincidence. Lance didn't know what he was talking about.
Besides, she thought with a sly smile, her husband would keep her plenty warm the moment he emerged from his shower.
Chapter 20
The Lees, the Currys, and the Youngs
November 2002
V
eronica happily ran an antibacterial cloth over the new toilet in the downstairs bathroom. And as for the new pedestal sink, she could sit and stare at it all day long; that's how pretty it looked. They'd even had movie-star lights installed on top of the mirror that the girls especially loved.
She grabbed some tissues from one of the white wire stacked cubes, which they'd put in here to assist with holding necessities, and wiped hair from the sink. Lorinda and Simone liked to brush their hair in front of the mirror, but she'd tell them not to stand so close to the sink. She and Norman wanted to avoid having to pay any high plumbing bills if the drains became clogged with hair.
How nice to have sleek white fixtures and tile instead of that hideous, antiquated pink. After Norman had finished removing the tile and sanding the walls, they replaced the bright pink paint with a pale peach color the paint manufacturer called Egg Cream. Then he laid fresh new linoleum. Finally, the plumbers had come today and switched out the old pink tub, toilet, sink, and vanity for new white fixtures, leaving them with a brand-new bathroom. Veronica had wanted to have it wallpapered, but Norman said they could do that after their private bath and kitchen were completed. “There's no hurry, Vee,” he'd said. “We're going to live here the rest of our lives.”
They received special, no-interest financing from Home Depot for up to a year. As soon as the bill for the materials and installation was paid off, in two or three months, they planned to redo their private bathroom upstairs, and after that would come the big job, the kitchen. The latter project would have to be financed, but Norman said that was good debt. The value of their home would increase.
She would have loved to have had all the work completed before they hosted Thanksgiving dinner, but she knew Norman's plan to avoid debt was the right way to go. Working within their budget was more important than trying to impress people. Still, it had been hard to see undisguised shock, followed by condescending smiles, on the faces of Camille Curry and Dawn Young, with their shiny new houses in Arlington Acres. She feared she would see the same looks on the faces of her parents and Norman's brothers, all of whom were coming to dinner from the city. This would be the first time any of them had been out to see them. Her brothers-in-law and their wives had decided against attending their job-celebration party because there wasn't any room for them to sleep in the house.
Norman's sister, Lucy, had already been out several times, but she would not be joining them for the holiday. Instead she would remain home in Harlem to make Thanksgiving dinner for a grieving friend who had just lost her mother. Her own sister, Valerie, decided to stay in the city because she had to work on Friday.
Veronica had to work Thanksgiving Day and the day after as well, but she took a long lunch break and drove home so she could be there to greet the family, although they might arrive before she got home. They planned to ride out in a caravan, following each other all the way from the city. She appreciated the consideration her brothers-in-law showed her parents, who would almost certainly get lost if left to their own devices.
It pleased her that they were finally coming out for a weekend visit. Anyone would think she and Norman had moved to the moon from the way her parents repeatedly stated, “If only you hadn't moved so far away.”
Only now, pulling up and seeing three cars with New York plates in her driveway, did she realize how much she'd missed her parents. But at least they didn't feel abandoned. Valerie still saw them frequently and often left Essence with them while she pursued an active social life on the weekends. Phyllis and Franklin Mills hadn't been thrilled when the unmarried Valerie had announced her pregnancy fourteen years ago, but they loved their firstborn granddaughter fiercely.
It pleased Veronica that they'd all arrived before she did, since she couldn't stay very long. She found everyone gathered in the living room. Her mother exclaimed that they'd just arrived less than ten minutes before.
She hugged both her parents hello, holding on to them longer than she usually did. Her mother actually had tears in her eyes. “Veronica, the children look so happy. And your home is beautiful.”
“We miss you, but we think you did the right thing,” her father added. “It's a much better environment for the girls out here.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” She wiped happy tears from the outer corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Hey, Veronica! Can you wish somebody Happy Thanksgiving, or what?”
She laughed as she moved to greet Eddie, the firstborn of Norman's family, and by far the most boisterous. “Happy Thanksgiving, Eddie, and welcome.”
Veronica greeted Eddie's wife, Michelle, and then Norman's other brother, Charles, and his wife, Germaine. Both brothers brought their children, all of whom were older than Lorinda and Simone, and none of whom were anywhere in sight.
“Where's the kids?” she asked.
“I think they're outside,” Norman said. “Vee, look what everybody brought. Macaroni and cheese, cornbread stuffing, and pies galore.”
“And I'll make the gravy,” her mother said. “That turkey smells wonderful, Veronica.”
“Thanks, Mom, but I can't take credit for it. Norman seasoned it and put it in the oven, since I had to get to work early this morning. I still have to go back and put in a few more hours, but we'll eat as soon as I get home.”
“That's all right, Veronica,” Michelle said. “Germaine and I brought some cold cuts. We're going to make sandwiches now, and that'll hold us for a couple of hours. We knew you had to work today, and we don't think it's right for us to rush to eat the moment you walk in the door after working all day.”
“Veronica, I'm admiring your kitchen,” Germaine said. “It's twice as big as the one in our apartment, and imagine having a window over your sink that looks out on your own backyard.”
The mention of her antiquated kitchen made Veronica feel embarrassed. “Uh . . . we're going to remodel it by next summer.”
Michelle seemed stunned by that. “Remodel it? Why, for heaven's sake?”
“Well, we're going to get new appliances, a nice side-by-side fridge, in a different color—”
“If these work, why bother?” Germaine said.
Veronica laughed. “You sound like Norman. But wait til you see it when it's finished. It'll be much brighter and better.”
Their first Thanksgiving in their new house turned out to be a smashing success. Dawn and Milo Young had already accepted an invitation to dine with Reuben and Camille Curry when Veronica asked if they would join them for dinner. So she asked them to stop by in the evening for dessert, and to bring their children. Both couples showed up alone, Camille explaining that most of their guests plus the kids, including Zachary Young, had gone to the movies.
Veronica's parents, as well as her brothers-in-law and their wives, clearly found it fascinating that these two other couples from the city had also become home owners here in Pennsylvania at about the same time. When Reuben Curry mentioned he and Camille had had their home built, they were deluged with questions. What did they do for a living? What was their house like? Veronica felt that it was intrusive. She caught Norman's eye and sent him a signal to stop the interrogation.
“Guys, a lot of folks build homes out here,” he said. “There are new developments all over the place. Milo and Dawn moved into a brand-new home, too.”
“Really?” Eddie asked. He turned to Milo. “So what kind of work
y'all
do?”
Veronica lowered her head to hide her exasperation. Norman meant well, but all his comment had done was turn the focus to the Youngs. The pleased looks on Dawn and Milo's faces told her they found the admiration as flattering as the Currys had, but she didn't want their families bombarding them with too many questions, or to ask anything inappropriate. Already Germaine had asked, “And your note for a brand-new house is reasonable?”—which was a veiled way of asking the amount of their mortgage payment.
“Maybe we should start the movie now,” Veronica said pointedly.
Conversation temporarily came to a halt when Norman put the rented DVD in the player, but when the movie ended once more they discussed living in Pennsylvania. “How are the schools out here?” asked Germaine.
Dawn seemed happy to reply. “Oh, much better than in the city. The kids here were way ahead.”
Germaine sighed. “If we didn't have good jobs in the city we'd consider moving out here. Our son already asked if we could.”
“There are plenty of people living here who commute to New York, but it takes a lot out of you,” Veronica cautioned.
“Yeah, I guess it would be tiring.”
“It's just as draining on your wallet as it is to your body,” Milo declared. The others chuckled and seconded his statement, except for Dawn. Veronica likened the look on her face to someone who'd just learned they had to
pay
at tax time when they expected a refund, although she seemed to recover quickly.
Norman nodded. “Vee and I were thrilled when the hospital here offered us jobs.”
“But there's a lot to consider when changing jobs,” Camille said. “I've worked at the same company for nearly ten years, and this summer I received a promotion. I get three weeks' vacation leave every year. If I switched jobs I'd have to start all over at the bottom of the food chain including my salary.”
“I know what you mean,” Dawn said. “I called about a job in South Jersey that was advertised in the
Times,
but I would have had to take a substantial pay cut, so I said forget it.”
“Well, that was a nice way to spend the evening,” Camille remarked as they drove away.
“Yes. I like Veronica and Norman. They have nice families, too.”
She inadvertently wrinkled her nose, just for a second. “But are all those people actually staying with them?” Here she was complaining about hosting three extra adults and three children. Heaven help Veronica if she had such a large number of people staying under her roof.
“No, just Veronica's parents. Norman's brothers and their families are staying at the Holiday Inn.”
Like I wish your sisters would do,
she thought. Aloud she said, “That makes it easier for Veronica.”
She rested a palm on her belly. The desserts Veronica served had been wonderful, plus earlier she'd had a slice of Brenda's famous sweet potato pie. The holiday season was no time to worry about one's weight. After New Year's she'd cut back on her calorie intake.
She busied herself by looking at the passing scenery during the ride home. Virtually all the businesses were closed for the holiday, except for a gas station here and there and the video rental stores. Most homes they passed either had empty driveways or several cars in front of them.
Their lives had changed so much since last year, when they spent Thanksgiving defending their decision to buy a home here in Pennsylvania, first to her family, and then to Reuben's. This year, for the first time ever, the entire Curry family had been able to sit down together as a family and give thanks, something they'd never have been able to do if she and Reuben hadn't bought their house. Funny how nobody pointed out how nice it felt to do that, now that someone had the space to accommodate everyone, although she felt certain they'd all thought of it.
But, of course, no one, from Ginny down to Arnelle, would ever bring up anything positive.
Reuben turned the Malibu onto their street. “I wonder if everyone's back from the movie.”
“I'm sure. Your mother and Brenda are probably up by now, too.” Both women had fallen asleep after dinner. “Hell, it's after nine. If anything, they're probably having turkey sandwiches or more dessert before they get ready to go to bed for the night.”
They pulled into their crowded driveway and parked at the very end of it, just managing to fit in the small space remaining before the curb. Dawn and Milo, following behind them, parked at the curb. Zach had asked to go to the movie with Mitchell instead of accompanying his parents to the Lees', and Milo said they would pick him up on their way home.
Dawn and Milo, sleepy after eating several heavy desserts at the Lees', didn't linger long after retrieving Zach. Camille felt sleepy herself. She checked on Mitchell and Shayla, talked with Ginny, Brenda, and Arnelle for a few minutes, then retired to her bedroom after going over the sleeping arrangements with everyone and making sure they had sufficient blankets and clean towels.
She noticed a strange pair of glasses on top of her dresser. Frowning, she reached for them. The rectangular wire-rimmed half-frames looked familiar. But since she didn't wear glasses and neither did Reuben, where had they come from?
She thought about it while showering, deciding that maybe Ginny had picked them up earlier and brought them in here, thinking they were hers. Her mother-in-law might have thought she wore glasses to read or something.
BOOK: If These Walls Could Talk
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