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Authors: Bettye Griffin

BOOK: If These Walls Could Talk
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Chapter 25
The Youngs
June 2003
D
awn filled everyone's glasses while Milo prepared for another game of PO-KE-NO. The Lees and the Currys had come over this Saturday night, and the six of them were playing for twenty-five cents a pot while their children played in the backyard, although they'd be coming in soon because the sun had finally set. She'd made a pitcher of Strawberry Daiquiris, and they also had Miller Genuine Draft on ice.
Milo seemed to be enjoying his role of host, which made her happy. What a nice change to see him having fun instead of complaining about the high cost of living in the country. He got up and turned up the volume on the stereo. An old Earth, Wind & Fire CD spun in the player, and Milo did an imitation of Phillip Bailey, clutching at his throat in mock pain as the singer's pitch soared. They'd have to do this more often, Dawn thought, but it was awfully difficult to catch Veronica and Norman on a weekend when they weren't working. Both of them worked as much overtime as they could get. Dawn wished she could make some extra cash, but even if she had time to put in extra hours she didn't receive overtime pay because of her management supervisory position.
“So how's everybody on the bus?” Norman asked.
“Same old shit,” Reuben said. “Everybody complains about how long it takes to get to New York and asking when the hell the train is coming.”
“Puh-leese. It hasn't even been proposed yet,” Camille said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If you ask me, we'll be bussing it for a long time to come.”
“Oh, Dawn, I love pigs in a blanket,” Veronica said, reaching eagerly into the dish Dawn placed on the table.
“Good. I do, too.” The pay-per-view boxing championship Milo had ordered didn't begin until 9:30, so instead of dinner Dawn served snack food and hors d'oeuvres.
She reclaimed her seat at the dining room table, hungrily eyeing the Four Corners and Four of a Kind bowls, both of which nearly overflowed with quarters. Unlike the Center and PO-KE-NO bowls, which had winners every game, these two had gone unclaimed long enough to practically become jackpots, albeit small ones, maybe forty or fifty dollars. Winning a pot would certainly prolong Milo's good spirits. Hell, it would be enough to pay for the extra cable charge.
“You ready, Dawn?” Milo asked.
“Go ahead.”
Dawn looked up expectantly as Camille returned to the dining room, where the women had remained after they had stopped playing PO-KE-NO and the fellows took over the family room to watch the fight. “Kids all right?”
“Yeah, but a little tired, I think. We'll probably leave soon, but everything was lovely, Dawn.”
“Thanks!” She appreciated Camille's compliment, but inside she felt like a victim of bad luck. Damn it, why couldn't she or Milo have won one of those PO-KE-NO pots? Veronica had won the Four Corners and Reuben the Four of a Kind, so she and Milo came up empty.
“Yes, it was,” Veronica agreed. “But good luck trying to pry Reuben away from that TV. You'd better hope for a quick knockout.”
Veronica and Dawn laughed.
“Ah, this is nice,” Dawn said. “I wish the weekends were three days instead of two. This is the only time Milo and I get to really enjoy our home.”
“I know what you mean,” Camille said. “Veronica, you and Norman don't know how lucky you are not to have that problem anymore.”
Veronica shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. Dawn decided that Veronica probably felt a little uncomfortable because she no longer had to make the long commute to New York while she and Camille did. After all, she'd done it and knew firsthand what a pain in the ass it was.
Dawn searched for something to say to change the subject and put Veronica at ease. “I'm glad Milo and I managed to find a Saturday when both you guys could come over,” she said.
“Well, Norman and I decided we were having too much company on the weekends,” Veronica said, “but trying to get the point across to our families turned out to be harder than I thought it would.” She lowered her voice, although they were well away from the family room. “You won't believe what happened last week.”
“Tell, tell,” Camille said, rubbing her palms together eagerly, like a child who'd been promised a surprise.
“Norman's brother Eddie called and asked if he could come out with his wife and kids this weekend. I told him it wasn't a good time because we'd been invited somewhere, and he merely said, ‘That's all right. Y'all go ahead. Michelle and I and the kids will do our own thing.'”
“Well, what'd you say?” Dawn asked.
“I put Norman on the phone and let him deal with it. Norman told him as nicely as he could that we're not able to accommodate weekend company as often as we have in the past. I don't expect to see either of his brothers until the barbecue.” She remembered she hadn't yet told her friends about Lucy's birthday party. “That reminds me,” she said—before they could ask “What barbecue?”—“Norman and I are letting his sister have a barbecue at our place. She's celebrating her big 4-0. I hope both of you can make it, and bring the kids. It's the weekend after next.”
“It's sure nice of you to give a party for your husband's sister,” Camille remarked. “If I were to give either of Reuben's sisters anything, it would probably be . . .”—she paused to think before concluding—“whooping cough.”
“You give me too much credit, Camille. We're not giving the party for her. She's doing it all herself—the food, the beer, the music. She's just using our house. But Norman and I laid down some conditions, and one of them included that we could invite a handful of people.” Again, she lowered her voice. “You know, Dawn, I'm thinking you and Milo had the right idea by putting your computer and exercise equipment in your third bedroom. Maybe if we hadn't bought new bedroom furniture for our extra room, we wouldn't have had this problem.”
Camille took a sip of her Strawberry Daiquiri. “Reuben and I don't even
have
a spare bedroom, but it hasn't stopped his family from coming out pretty regularly. We actually had to buy air mattresses for them. I guess the thought of staying at the Holiday Inn never occurred to them. It was just, ‘We're coming out for Thanksgiving,' or ‘We're coming out for Memorial Day. Please make sure everyone has a place to sleep.' Like they're making fucking hotel reservations or something,” she concluded, exasperation tingeing her voice.
“I can top that,” Veronica said. “My brothers-in-law both brought their
own
air mattresses when Norman and I gave that New Year's party, so they wouldn't have to stay at a hotel. They slept in the basement. And my sister-in-law Michelle told me confidentially that not having a room of their own didn't stop Germaine and Charles from having sex right there. Can you imagine? Michelle said it was like running a porn movie with just the sound.”
They all laughed uproariously at that, from both Veronica's tale and the effects of multiple drinks laced with rum.
“Having your in-laws visit constantly is hard to take, even if you like them,” Camille declared, sounding a little tipsy. “Which I don't. Of course, Reuben's brother and sisters all said that our moving out here means we think we're better than everyone else. So I guess we won't have to worry about them beating a path to our door on a regular basis, unless there's a holiday and they want someplace to go, like Memorial Day a couple of weeks ago and the Fourth of July a couple of weeks from now.”
“I don't think that's the right way to be,” Dawn said. “Families are supposed to be happy when someone accomplishes something special, like when they have their first college graduate. Maybe I shouldn't say this, but maybe they're just jealous.”
Camille leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. Dawn noticed her eyes were a little teary. “No doubt about that.”
“Milo and I have lived here since last August, and our families have always made excuses when we invited them out,” Dawn said. “They finally agreed to come out July 4th.”
Veronica grunted. “Hopefully it won't be the beginning of your not being able to call a weekend your own.”
“It doesn't sound like it, if it took them this long to get out here,” Camille pointed out.
“Don't let that fool you. It took Norman's brothers months to get out here for their first visit, but they've certainly made up for it.”
Dawn spoke up. “Veronica, I know you don't have this problem, but, Camille, what do you plan to do with Mitchell and Shayla over summer vacation?”
“Last year we had one of Reuben's nieces come out from the city and watch them. It actually worked out rather well, except for the two-week gap in between when school lets out here and when school lets out in the city. I had to take a leave of absence from work so I could stay home with them before Kierra came, and I'll do the same again this year, I suppose, even though we can't really afford it. But now Reuben's other sister wants
her
daughter to spend the summer.”
“Ooh, sticky. How do you plan to handle
that?
” Dawn asked.
“The same way Veronica handled her in-laws. I'm leaving it up to Reuben to sort out.”
“Sounds like everybody wants to stay at The Curry Country Club,” Veronica said with a laugh.
“We're thinking about enrolling Zach in a day camp,” Dawn said. “He's a good kid, usually happy playing computer games, but he's still too young to stay home alone all day.” She didn't want to point out the high expense associated with day camp. She feared she and Milo wouldn't be able to pay for it and keep up with their other bills. All right, so Camille had bluntly stated that she couldn't afford to take two unpaid weeks off, but that was probably the alcohol talking. She'd downed those Strawberry Daiquiris like they were Kool-Aid. Tomorrow she probably wouldn't even remember what she'd said.
“Anybody have any exciting vacation plans?” Veronica asked.
“Milo and Zach and I are going to drive down to Virginia for a week. We'll see Colonial Williamsburg and go to Busch Gardens, maybe spend some time in Virginia Beach,” Dawn said.
“Reuben and I haven't really talked about it much,” Camille said. “Whatever we do, it'll be someplace we can drive to. We did the Disney thing while the house was being built a year and a half ago. Plane tickets, rented condo, rented convertible. We won't be doing anything like that again soon. It cost a fortune, although I can't say it wasn't worth it. Mitchell and Shayla are still talking about it.”
“I'll bet,” Veronica said. “Our girls are asking us to bring them to Disney, but Norman wants to put them off until we can finish the kitchen remodeling, unless we can get a really good discount in the interim. He says that things probably get pretty sluggish around the parks after New Year's and stay that way through Spring Break.”
“I think that's very wise,” Camille said. She downed the rest of her drink and immediately poured some more.
“I'm so glad you girls came along with Reuben and Milo,” Dawn remarked. “I would have been bored stiff listening to them watch that fight.”
“Maybe we can form a reading group or something and have a discussion while the fellows are watching sports,” Veronica suggested.
“What a great idea!” Dawn exclaimed.
“Yes, it is,” Camille agreed. “I'm always reading during the commute. Did you want to keep it among us three, or would you be willing to invite a couple of other women?”
“Oh, not too many other people. I'd like it to be more of an informal group rather than an organized club, so we can meet when we feel like it, instead of every month like clockwork. Of course, most of the people I know from church live in Mount Pocono. The only folks I can think of from Arlington Acres are that couple who lives down the street from you and Reuben, Camille. What were their names?” She snapped her fingers. “Tanisha and Douglas, that's it.”
Camille made a face. “Oh, them. I'd advise against it. They're not very friendly.” She'd barely seen the Coles since their hasty exit the day of the barbecue she and Reuben gave, and when she did run into Tanisha she never seemed like she wanted to talk.
“I know who you're talking about,” Dawn said. “I saw her buying meat at Wal-Mart and asked if she lived here in Arlington Acres because I thought I'd seen her there. She brushed me off like dandruff. Said she was sorry, but she had to get right home because her son was there by himself.” She paused. “You'd think I had TB or something. She might have
said
she was sorry, but she didn't sound like it.”
“I know of another couple who might be a better fit,” Camille suggested. “The Kings. They've lived out here for four years. He works for the post office, and she works for one of the social service agencies. We met them at the pool.” She chuckled. “We passed their house the first time we came out here.” She still remembered that crisp autumn day a year and a half ago, when she and Reuben caught a glimpse of Lemuel King in his well-equipped garage, looking like the very definition of suburbia. Like Veronica and Norman, the Kings initially worked in the city but managed to get jobs locally. “They're nice people.”

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