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Authors: Bettye Griffin

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BOOK: If These Walls Could Talk
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Chapter 31
The Youngs
November 2003
D
awn and Milo both arranged to take off from work the week of Thanksgiving. They had felt as tired as they usually did on the Friday morning before vacation started, but the picture changed completely when they met at Port Authority for the return trip. They both felt nearly giddy at the prospect of being able to sleep in for a week.
Dawn savored her vacation time, which allowed her to enjoy all the benefits of suburban living. She and Zach rode their bicycles while Milo lounged. But even Milo did some work around the house, puttering around in the garage and installing a new kitchen faucet when the cheap one the builder put in began to require more and more effort to turn the water completely off.
“Good job, Milo,” Dawn said with admiration. “That's a pretty faucet, too, isn't it?”
He shrugged. “As faucets go, I guess it's all right.”
She playfully flicked a dish towel at him. “Stop making fun of me.”
“Ah, I'm just messin' with you. Actually, I've got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise? Tell me!”
“I've got tickets for the Michael McDonald show at Radio City Friday night.”
“You do?”
“I figured it'll keep you out of the stores on the biggest shopping day of the year. Besides, you're always playing his new
Motown
CD.”
“Oh, Milo, that's wonderful! Now, what am I going to wear . . . ?”
“You don't need anything new. Your side of the closet looks like a fashion showroom as it is.”
She made a face at him. “All right, all right. I'm going to check.”
Milo grinned. He knew Dawn had been unhappy with his lack of energy in the fifteen months they'd lived in the new house. In recent weeks he'd really made an extra effort not to be so dull. Hell, many a man had left his wife for being an old stick-in-the-mud. Dawn was an attractive woman, and she still turned heads, in spite of her self-criticism that she'd put on weight. If he didn't get on the good foot soon someone might be willing to take his place. He'd already noticed the eyes of both Lemuel King and Reuben Curry lingering on her curves. Norman Lee, on the other hand, was the type who saw no one but his own wife. Milo didn't mind if other men looked—as long as they didn't touch.
He glanced out the kitchen window. Zach was throwing pebbles into the water, Stormy at his heels. Stormy's devotion to Zach reminded him of Kevin Hooks's dog in that old movie
Sounder.
As he'd told Zach, he'd always wanted a dog when he was a kid, but their apartment house didn't allow pets. It made him proud to be able to provide an environment for his son to have one, even though Stormy had grown into a fullsized boxer, and the cost of her checkups with the vet cost more than his copays at the doctor's office.
He tinkered with the newly installed faucet, turning it on and off. In spite of the baleful look he'd given Dawn when she'd said how nice it looked, he had to admit it was an attractive fixture.
He did like living here, loved having a piece of property to call his own, but the daily commute to New York was a killer. He slept on the way in and usually dozed off on the way home as well, yet he always felt tired. His body cried out for eight hours of sleep in his own bed, not snatched
Z
's while riding. What good was having a home if he had no time to enjoy it?
Plus, he and Dawn really had to struggle to pay their monthly bills. He became acutely aware of this while listening to his neighbors talk on the bus. This one was going into the city for dinner, a show, and an overnight stay; that one was having their patio enclosed; the other one was going to Vegas for four days. He and Dawn couldn't even afford to drive to the city to see a damn show and drive home again.
She'd probably kill him if she knew he'd charged the concert tickets, but how else were they supposed to have any fun? He'd bet their neighbors all funded
their
vacations with plastic. He and Dawn had already put out thousands this year alone, considering the cost of raising their backyard, having their closet repaired, and giving that party last month, on top of all the other expenses.
The way Milo felt, if he could afford to pay for the necessities, they should be able to enjoy some of the desirables as well.
“Hey,” Milo said on Tuesday afternoon, “I'm in the mood for a bloomin' onion. Anybody want to go to Outback?”
“Outback, yeah!” Zach said. “Can we go, Mom?”
Dawn hesitated. “Uh . . . I guess. But aren't they kind of expensive?”
“Where do you want to go, Mom, McDonald's?”
“You know better than to talk to me like that, young man,” Dawn said sternly.
“I'm sorry.”
Dawn looked questioningly at Milo. They'd spent so much repairing their bedroom closet; in fact, they hadn't yet paid off the charge. Outback for three people would probably come to sixty or seventy dollars. Even though Zach was only eleven, he'd long since outgrown the children's menu. But Milo's confident grin told her that perhaps she was being overly thrifty. “All right, let's go.”
Wednesday Dawn baked pies and a pound cake. The three of them would have a quiet Thanksgiving dinner at home, but they'd invited the Currys and the Lees over for dessert, plus any of their guests. She'd invited Lemuel and Denise King as well, but they were having dinner with family in New York. Camille said that this year her family was coming for dinner, instead of her in-laws, and that they would be leaving a few hours later. That left the Lees, who as usual had a bunch of people coming, most of whom had gotten hotel rooms. Veronica said that only her parents, sister, niece, and Norman's sister were staying at their house. Still, Dawn wanted to be prepared in case some or even all of the Lees' dinner guests came over for dessert. In total they numbered over fifteen people.
By Friday Dawn's good spirits held. Camille kindly agreed that Zach could spend the night at her house. He and Mitchell would have a good time together. Dawn and Milo set out for New York at three o'clock.
Finding a parking spot wasn't as difficult as it usually was, possibly owing to the fact that many folks had the day off. Dawn slipped her arm through Milo's as they walked east along Fiftieth Street.
“So what do you feel like eating?” Milo asked.
“Oh, I'm open to whatever you want.” She squeezed his arm. “You know, I'm still surprised that you included dinner with the concert. It reminds me of the old days in Brooklyn when we used to do it all the time.”
“Yeah, the good old days.”
“Now, Milo, don't start that again. Isn't it nicer, knowing that after the show is over we'll be going back to our own home?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
In spite of his attempt to be blasé, he hadn't been able to conceal the beginnings of a smile at that thought. She caught his eye—they were nearly the same height when she wore heels—and puckered her lips into an air kiss. “I knew we would get to this point one day.”
“Well, that day hasn't arrived just yet. We're still paying on the furniture and the dryer, plus we spent five hundred dollars on that table, chairs, and umbrella for the backyard just two months ago, remember?”
“But we got such a good deal on it, being that it was the end of the season. Besides, the set we bought last year for the deck only seated five, and we needed more seating for the party. And everybody who came said how nice it looked.”
“Yes, they did. But we need to cool it, Dawn. We've been spending a lot of money, and we don't want it to bite us in the ass.”
She frowned thoughtfully. “I'm puzzled about something. If things aren't getting any easier for us, how is it we can afford orchestra seats for the concert and have dinner out twice in one week?”
“We can't. I paid for the Outback in cash, but everything else is pure plastic.”
She stopped walking. “You charged it? Why didn't you tell me, Milo?”
“Because I feel you and I are overdue for some good times for a change.” He pulled her arm. “Come on, let's keep moving. It'll be all right, Dawn.”
“But I thought we wanted to stay away from credit cards. We don't have a lot of cash to spare after all the bills are paid as it is.”
“You didn't think of that when you bought that outdoor furniture, did you?” he retorted angrily.
She instantly regretted bringing up the matter. She had no argument. She'd seen the patio set for eight at BJ's Warehouse and just had to have it. When she called Milo and told him about it he told her if she wanted it that badly to go on and get it.
“You're right,” she said. “I did buy that furniture without even thinking about the bill.” No point trying to kid herself. She'd whipped out her credit card quicker than a juggler could toss balls in the air. “It's not right for me to criticize you for wanting us to go out and have some fun.” They did everything they were supposed to, didn't they? Sent Zach to the dentist and the optometrist, brought Stormy to the vet, paid their bills on time. Surely they couldn't be expected to do all the right things and nothing else. They
did
deserve to have a night out on the town once in a while.
“You know what?” she asked, tightening her grip on his arm. “Let's find a seafood restaurant. I could really go for a good paella.”
He grinned. “Now you're talkin', baby.”
Chapter 32
The Currys
January 2004
“M
om, can't you make us dinner?” Shayla pleaded. “I'm tired of spaghetti and hot dogs.”
“At least Daddy can make those right. When he tried to make meat loaf it came out all lumpy,” Mitchell said. “I had to fill up on mashed potatoes and biscuits.”
Camille put an arm around each of her children. “I'm sorry, kids, but your mom is worn out when she gets home. Daddy is going to be your chef for the time being.” At the sound of their groans she added, “But I'll make some extra food this weekend so you can have leftovers. Daddy can fix that casserole I always make.”
Shayla brightened. “Ooh, the one with the biscuits on top?”
“That's the one. All he has to do is add vegetables and potatoes. It's absolutely mess-up-proof.” Camille was glad that the kids liked her all-purpose casserole for leftover chicken, beef, and pork. She kept it as fresh as possible by changing the vegetables it contained and by sometimes using sweet potatoes instead of white, especially when the meat was ham or other pork. Shayla didn't even complain about the lima beans when she used mixed vegetables. Any way she made it, it was economical. And at this point everything revolved around saving money. Reuben's severance pay had ended three months ago.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Camille added up the column of numbers one more time, hoping she would get a lower total.
She didn't. She really hadn't expected to, but desperation gave people foolish hopes. She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them and turned to Reuben, who sat a few feet away in the family room, watching ESPN. The sports network was abuzz with predictions about tonight's Super Bowl. Later this evening they would be going over to Lemuel and Denise King's to watch the game. Denise, Camille, and the other book club members had worked out a menu, and each agreed to bring two dishes for a potluck meal. They would be discussing another book, at least until just before the spectacular halftime show, which the women would watch and then leave, since tomorrow was school for the kids and work for them. Poor Veronica had to go in at eleven that night.
Camille took a deep breath and then said the words she'd been dreading. “Reuben, we don't have enough to pay the bills this month.”
“Do what you've been doing for months. Take what you need from savings.”
“Reuben, we've been doing that since November, and you know we haven't been short an insignificant sum like fifty dollars. There wasn't a whole lot in there to begin with. Another month or two and it'll be empty.”
He took a deep breath. “I'll bring home my first check from the supermarket next week.” He'd put in applications months ago, but hoards of high school students had beat him to it, taking all the available jobs. No one had called him until after New Year's. At least he'd been able to get in more hours with FedEx during the busy holiday season.
“Reuben, even with two part-time jobs and working forty-five hours a week you're not making as much as you did in New York. And my check is a lot less now, too. I had to pick up medical and dental insurance for us, remember?” They had been getting their health insurance coverage through Reuben's job. She toyed with the idea of not carrying insurance at all, but quickly abandoned it. Anything could happen to any of them at any time. She had to make sure her family was protected. Family coverage cost a fortune these days, but not carrying it held too big a risk.
“How much do we have left?”
She told him.
“All right. Hopefully next month we won't need to take as much. If we're really strapped, we can start taking money from our retirement account.”
She prayed it wouldn't come to that. She could cope with being broke at thirty-seven, but by the time she was sixty and considering retirement she hoped to be well fixed. She hated the idea of taking from that security, but if Reuben didn't find better-paying work soon they would have no choice.
As had become their custom, the women sat down with their plates to chat about the latest news before beginning their book discussion.
“I'm happy to announce that Norman and I, at long last, have had the work started on our kitchen,” Veronica announced.
“That didn't take too long,” Dawn said. “You haven't been in the house two years yet, have you?”
“It'll be two years in the spring. I guess it seems longer because I wanted it since before we moved in.”
“I can't wait to see it when it's finished,” Denise said eagerly.
“You'll all be invited over for the grand unveiling. All I want to do now is live through it. I'm told it's hell to live through a remodeling.”
Camille forced a smile but remained quiet. She wished she and Reuben had enough money to redo their kitchen. Not that their kitchen needed redoing, but they could take that amount and spend it on basic living expenses, taking some strain off of their rapidly diminishing savings.
“And that's not all,” Veronica continued. “We're getting new carpet in the house, and Norman is going to put new flooring down in the basement.”
“Well, aren't you full of news!” Denise exclaimed.
“I'm very excited about it.” Veronica's dark brown skin glowed with happiness.
“I have some news, too,” Dawn said. “Next month, during Zach's winter break, Milo and Zach and I are going on a cruise.”
The others made squealing noises. “Where to?”
“It's five days, and it stops in Cozumel in Mexico and Grand Cayman Island. The only bad part is that we have to drive all the way down to Tampa to board the ship.”
“Ooh, send us postcards,” Veronica said.
“To hell with a postcard,” Denise declared. “I hear liquor is real cheap in the Cayman Islands. I'd love it if you could bring me back a bottle of that Hypotiq Lemuel and I like. I'll reimburse you for it, of course.”
Camille knew the others would think it strange if she didn't say anything. “Veronica, Dawn, I'm happy for both of you.” She spoke honestly. She knew everything was fine in Veronica's world, but she'd thought Dawn and Milo were struggling as much as she and Reuben were. How nice to hear that the Youngs' fortunes looked better these days.
It gave her hope that the future held promise for the Currys.
BOOK: If These Walls Could Talk
13.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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