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Authors: Bettye Griffin

BOOK: If These Walls Could Talk
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Chapter 47
The Currys
September 2005
C
amille sat as still as a mannequin while Reuben gently explained their plight to Mitchell and Shayla. “So, kids,” he concluded, “because my work options are much better in the city, Mommy and I decided to sell this house and move back to New York.”
“But I like it here, Daddy,” Shayla said. “I don't want to go back to New York.”
“I know you like it here, Shayla. Mommy and I did everything we could not to have to disrupt your lives after I lost my job, but it's been two years and I haven't been able to find a job in my field. There comes a time when you have to admit you've been beaten.”
“I think you did great, Daddy,” Mitchell said. “So are we going back to the Bronx? Are we gonna buy a house there?”
“I'm afraid that first we'll have to get an apartment and see how things go, son.”
“An apartment? Will Mitchell and me have our own rooms, like we do now?” Shayla asked.
Camille felt like someone had cut into her chest to tear out her heart. How could they tell their children that their whole world—all the things they were used to—was about to undergo a radical change? No wonder Reuben alluded to the possibility of them buying another house. He couldn't bring himself to tell them they'd never live in a house again, and neither could she. “I'm afraid not, Shayla. Apartment rents are very high in the city. We'll have to wait a few months before we can get together enough money to rent one.”
The child brightened. “That means we'll be able to stay here until we get an apartment.”
Reuben took over. “No, Shayla. I made arrangements with the bank that holds the mortgage on our house to vacate right away so they can sell it for us.”
“So where will we stay?” Mitchell asked, fear in his newly changed voice.
“We made arrangements with your grandma and Aunt Arnelle,” Camille answered. “You and Daddy will stay at Grandma's, Mitchell. Shayla and I will stay with Aunt Arnelle and Tiffany.”
“We're not going to live together? Are you and Daddy getting a divorce?” Shayla asked, her eyes dark with suspicion.
“No, dear, not at all,” Camille assured her. “It's just that it might be a little while until we can get together enough money to rent an apartment big enough for all of us. And none of the family has enough room to take in all four of us while we save up. That's the only reason why we have to separate. But it's not permanent. I promise.”
“Your mother and I are going to do all we can to make sure we're reunited as soon as possible,” Reuben added.
Camille looked at Mitchell, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet. “Mitchell? Are you all right?”
“I don't think you're telling the truth,” he blurted out. “I think the same thing is happening to you that happened to Alex's parents. The bank might sell our house, but they're not selling it for us. They're taking it from us, aren't they? Otherwise we'd just stay here until someone buys the house from us.”
“Shayla, we have to leave,” Camille said, grabbing her daughter's hand.
“But Mommy—”
“Right now,” she said firmly. Let Reuben and Mitchell have it out in private. She already wished Shayla hadn't heard Mitchell's outburst. She didn't have to know all the family business. Shayla was incapable of keeping a secret. Camille feared she might accidentally blab to one of her friends. Neither Camille nor Reuben wanted their neighbors to know about the pending foreclosure until after they were gone. After that they didn't really care what their neighbors said, but for now they had to live among these people, and they didn't want them in their business.
She hated having to confess the truth to her friends Dawn and Denise, and especially to Veronica, who'd done so well since moving here. They'd played cards at the Lees' last weekend, and Camille couldn't take her eyes off their new kitchen. Norman and Veronica had a house that was as beautiful as it was affordable. For them the dream of home ownership had come true. She doubted Veronica had any problems bigger than forgetting to defrost meat for dinner.
Her world, on the other hand, was falling into tiny pieces at her feet.
Chapter 48
The Youngs and the Lees
October 2005
D
awn, grateful to have another workweek completed and a check earned, carried her groceries to the car. She'd called Zach and told him she was stopping at the store. She'd bought him some of those shortbread cookies with the chocolate drops that he liked so much, along with a few staples.
With a sigh, she turned the key in the ignition.
Nothing happened.
She fought back a rising panic and forced herself to count to twenty before trying again.
Nothing.
Dawn leaned forward, resting her arms on the wheel and putting her head down, careful not to lean on the horn. She was barely managing, but she was hanging on. Why did this have to happen? Didn't she have enough problems without having to cope with a dead battery?
“Dawn? Is that you?”
She raised her head and saw a concerned-looking Veronica standing in the empty space next to her Volvo. “My car won't start,” she said tonelessly. “I think it's the battery.”
“Do you have an auto club you can call?”
“Not anymore. But I'll deal with it tomorrow. Do you think you can drop me off at home? All I want to do at this point is go home and go to bed.”
And see Zach.
But she could hardly tell Veronica she hadn't seen her son since Monday morning.
“Sure, I understand. And maybe Norman can help you then, if it's only a dead battery.”
For the first time she began to feel hopeful. “That would be wonderful.”
“Come on, lock up the car and get your purse and groceries. I'm parked just a few cars down.”
Dawn hesitated. Her suitcase was in the backseat. She feared that leaving it in the car overnight would encourage a break-in and she'd lose a valuable chunk of her wardrobe, but how could she explain it to Veronica if she brought it with her?
She made up her mind in an instant, unlocking the back door and dragging out the bag.
Veronica glanced at it. “You must be bringing some clothes to Milo. That's real nice of you, I must say.”
Suddenly all the secrets and deception became too much. Dawn's breath caught in her throat, making a sound of a choking sob. “It isn't Milo's things in this suitcase, Veronica. It's mine. With Milo gone I can't afford to go through a bus pass every fifteen days.”
“Oh, Dawn, I'm sorry. Isn't Milo sending you money?”
“Yes, but he's got to live, too, I guess. He just rented an apartment, and he can't send me as much as he did at first.”
“What about Zach?”
Dawn hesitated. Even Milo and her parents didn't know Zach was being left alone. She generally called them from her cell phone, anyway, to save long-distance charges. She instructed Zach to tell Milo she was asleep or at the store when he called in the evening. When she called her parents—they never made long-distance calls unless it was an emergency—and they asked to speak with Zach, she conveniently would say he was outside with Stormy, and when she finished talking she would dial him and instruct him to call his grandparents. It was all so complicated, and she felt worn down from all the strain of the charade.
“Dawn?” Veronica pressed. “Is Zach staying home alone all week?”
“Yes,” she said, not bothering to try to hold back the tears. “I didn't know what else to do. Nobody knows about it besides Zach and me. If Milo knew I was leaving him alone he'd have me arrested on neglect charges.”
“I'm sure he wouldn't do that. And you won't have a problem anymore. From now on Zach will spend weeknights at our house.”
Dawn stopped crying out of pure shock, shaking her head. “Veronica, I can't ask you to do that.”
“You don't have to ask; I'm offering. It's a perfect solution, Dawn.”
Dawn shook her head. “Veronica, I can't put you out like that. It's too much. Zach goes to school here in Tobyhanna, not in Mount Pocono.”
“I bring my own kids to school and pick them up. Tobyhanna isn't that far.”
“Veronica, I can think of a dozen reasons why you shouldn't do this. Gas prices have gone up, Norman might not like it. . . .”
“Don't you dare worry about either of those.” Veronica grasped Dawn's forearm. “We're friends, Dawn, and right now you really need a friend. I know my husband. If someone we know is in trouble, he'd want to do whatever he could to help. Besides, Zach can watch the girls for us for a few hours while we go out to dinner or something. It would be nice to have a little couple time during the week.” Veronica realized after she'd spoken that she probably shouldn't have said anything about ‘couple time' to a woman whose separation had turned her life upside down. “I'm sorry,” she said. “That wasn't very considerate of me, was it?”
“It's all right,” Dawn said, wiping her eyes. “I do feel a whole lot better, now that I told somebody.”
“I just wish you'd confided in me sooner. It's not easy trying to make it in a new state, miles and miles from anyone we know. We New Yorkers have to stick together.”
“That's sweet, Veronica, but I just can't let you commit to watching my son unless you've cleared it with Norman.”
“He'll be all for it. You wait and see.”
“Why don't you and I talk after you've discussed it with him?” Dawn suggested. “And I won't be upset if he thinks it's too much. I think it's too much myself. But just knowing you want to help means a lot to me. You're a real friend, Veronica. Thank you.”
“We'll work this out for you, Dawn. Don't worry. In the meantime let's get you home so you can see Zach.”
Norman stared at her incredulously. “You want to
what?
”
“Norman, Dawn is frantic. Milo is gone. Zach is all alone in that big house all week long because she simply can't afford to commute every day. Don't you want to help them?”
“You're telling me that Milo abandoned them?”
“No, but now that he's got an apartment he's not able to send Dawn as much money anymore. She's struggling to pay the mortgage, and she said she can't refinance because the appraiser lied about the worth of her house. It was in that article in last year's paper, about how appraisers were overvaluing homes to mollify the lenders.”
“Vee, I feel for Dawn, but I think the most we can do is give Zach our number here at the house and your work number. Between those he'll be able to reach one of us day or night in case of emergency. Obviously, we can get to him a lot quicker than Dawn can from New York. But as for him staying over here and your shuttling him back and forth to school every day, I've got to say no to that. I'd be more willing to help if he lived here in Mount Pocono, but he's in Tobyhanna.”
“But Norman—”
“I'm sorry, Veronica. We have to stop all this. We helped your parents make their transition to their condo, and we got involved in Essence's situation with Valerie, and we gave Chucky a nice summer. We let Lucy have her party here, and we let my brothers and their wives spend weekends here. We're not running a social service agency any more than we're running a bed-and-breakfast. Believe me, Dawn will be grateful to us for telling Zach he can call us if he needs anything.”
She tried one last tack. “But Norman, you're putting me in an embarrassing position. I practically promised her we could help her.” Even though Dawn had given her a way out, she felt embarrassed to take it.
His eyes narrowed. “Since when do you make decisions like that without discussing it with me first? I know you never told me about Essence and I forgot to tell you about Chucky, but at least they're both family.”
“Well, it did hinge upon your approval, but I was so sure you'd go for it.”
“I'm sorry, but I don't approve. You can only stretch yourself so thin, Vee. Who knows how long this will go on? It's going to get old.”
“All right.”
Veronica swallowed with what sounded to her like a crash of a glass bowl hitting the floor. “Dawn, I talked to Milo. We've had some major family issues going on lately, and he really feels that I should take a break. I'm sorry.”
“It's all right, Veronica,” Dawn replied. “I told you I thought it would be taking on too much.”
She sounded upbeat, but Veronica recognized disappointment in her friend's voice. She blamed herself for giving Dawn false hope. She already felt bad for telling Dawn she didn't think Milo had any secret agendas or a girlfriend, but was only trying to please her. Dawn's instinct that something was wrong had obviously been the right one. Milo had left maybe a month after she and Dawn met for lunch at Perkin's.
“But Norman did suggest that you give Zach our number at home and my number at work. In case he has any trouble, we'll be able to get to him a lot quicker than you can from the city. Plus, I'm available even at two or three in the morning; he'd just be calling me at work.”
“That's so sweet of you! Yes, I'll do that.”
Veronica suddenly had an idea. “Dawn, part of the reason Norman said no is because we live in Mount Pocono, and he felt it would be too much for me to drive back and forth every day to get Zach to and from school. But have you thought about talking to Denise? She lives within walking distance of your house.”
“No, Veronica, I don't want anyone else to know. I'm breaking the law, leaving Zach alone all week.”
“She and Lemuel might be able to help you. Remember, Denise works for a social service agency.”
Dawn remained adamant. “No, Veronica,” she repeated firmly. “Forget it.”

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