Chapter 29
The Currys
September 2003
C
amille slammed the car door and wearily fastened her seat belt. “God, I'm beat. The kids okay?” Usually Reuben brought Mitchell and Shayla with him when he came to the station to pick her up.
“And hello to you, too, Camille.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. Hi.”
He started the car. “The kids are fine. I left them home so I could talk to you. I had some good news today. I've got a job at FedEx.”
Camille immediately brightened. “They pay good, don't they?”
“Yes.” He named an hourly rate. “Not bad for loading and unloading packages on trucks.”
“Well, that'll certainly help. Actually, with no commuting expenses, it'll help quite a bit.” Referring to Reuben's lack of a commute still left a lump in her throat, but she forced herself to think about the positive effect one fewer bus pass would have on their budget. “They have good benefits, too, don't they?”
“Uh . . . I heard something about tuition reimbursement and discount travel.”
Her eyes widened. She and Reuben certainly deserved a vacationâwithout the kidsâafter all they'd been through. Maybe they could go somewhere romantic for a few days, like Charleston or Savannah. Hell, maybe they could even go to Vegas, a place she'd always wanted to see. Did they really have slot machines in ladies' rooms and supermarkets, like people said?
She could barely keep up with her thoughts, which had gotten on a runaway train. They should be able to get Brenda or Arnelle to keep the kids, returning the favor they'd done by having Kierra and Tiffany stay with them for an entire summer.
“But there's something you have to know,” he said quickly. “I do get some benefits, but my job is only part-time. Twenty-five hours a week.” Seeing her crestfallen expression, he quickly added, “It's better than nothing, Camille.”
She felt like a deflated tire. “But it's not what you were making at the store. And with just working parttimeâ”
“I'm sure I can get another part-time job at the supermarket here. That'll bring in more money and, besides, I won't have to buy a bus pass to ride into the city. I can even arrange my hours so I'll be there for the kids when they get home from school.”
Her mouth set in a hard line at the second reminder in a minute's time that Reuben no longer had to commute to the city. Except for the part about working a second job, he would have the life
she
wanted. It wasn't fair. “How nice for you,” she said rigidly.
“Camille, I know you're annoyed that you still have to get up so early and make that long trip and I don't. I know you wanted to get a job here in Pennsylvania. You still can, if you can find one that pays decently. But you haven't been able to in a year and a half, and you've gotten a promotion and are making even more money. Right now we're just not in a position for you to take a pay cut.”
She sighed. “I'm tired, Reuben. Let's talk later.” To herself she added,
I spend five hours a day going back and forth to work, a problem
you
don't have anymore.
At home she wearily climbed the stairs to her bedroom, stopping to look in on the children. “Mom, didya hear about Daddy's new job?” Mitchell asked with excitement.
“Yes, I did. It's wonderful news.”
“We won't lose our house now, will we?”
She looked at him sharply, not even sure she'd heard him correctly. “Mitchell, what a question to ask!”
“Well, Alex had to move back to the city. His parents didn't have enough money to pay the bank for their house every month. They didn't even know where they were going to sleep when they left.”
Camille lowered her chin to her chest as she studied her son. Now that he mentioned it, Alex hadn't been around lately, nor had she seen Douglas or Tanisha in passing. “Did Alex tell you this?” she asked curiously.
“No, all he said was that his parents didn't like it here and they were going back to the city. But he didn't want to go. He said he likes it a whole lot better here than the city. He told me that last week, and the next day he was gone.”
“So where did the rest come from, about them losing their house?” She figured someone had started a rumor. For all anyone knew, the Coles might have had a family emergency and would be back in a few days.
“I heard about it from Mike Willis. He said he heard his parents talking at night.”
Marianne Willis sold real estate, so she'd be sure to know the status of the Cole house. Camille's shoulders slumped. Unfortunately, it sounded like the story had merit.
That would explain a couple of things. Now she understood why Tanisha Cole never had much to say and sometimes even sought to avoid her.
Hell, if I were about to be thrown out of my home I wouldn't feel like grinning at people, either.
It made her uneasy that Marianne knew the truth behind the Coles' abrupt departure. She'd probably told everybody on the block about it. Everybody except her and Reuben, that is. All the white families were probably buzzing about the blacks who'd been foreclosed on. Camille didn't want to think badly of her next-door neighbors. Marianne and Jeff Willis had been kind to them from the beginning. Jeff even helped move in their furniture. Still, she would have loved to have been the proverbial fly on the wall to overhear the private conversations of the other home owners on the block. It wouldn't surprise her if the words “dumb niggers” came up.
Camille had no fantasies about how her neighbors perceived black people. Sure, they were friendly, and careful to never consider using any racial slurs in front of her and Reuben, to whom they'd shown only cordiality. But let a person of color cut them off on the highway and see how fast that word came out of their mouths. Camille believed that everybody had a touch of Archie Bunker in them; that no one, no matter what ethnic group they belonged to, was immune to using a racial slur when they felt wronged by a person of identifiable ethnicity. The standoffishness Tanisha and Douglas demonstrated had done little to endear them to any of the other families on the street, and she suspected that many of them privately celebrated the Coles' downfall. She wondered if anyone made the connection between their behavior and the fear they must have felt.
They'd probably lived in fear and dread for a long time, possibly as long as she'd known them. Foreclosures didn't happen overnight. The Coles might have been struggling for years, possibly from the day they'd moved in. Maybe they, too, hadn't done their homework, or had gone overboard with decorating, or both.
Now Camille felt guilty for wishing Mitchell had a playmate from a more cordial family, and for resenting the Coles for eating and running at the barbecue she and Reuben gave for their families and new friends. A free meal for your entire family must be pretty appealing when you were behind on your mortgage.
But that bit about them not knowing where they would sleep, that had to be pure fiction. No way would Marianne and Jeff Willis know something so private. The Coles certainly wouldn't have confided in them. Either that son of Marianne and Jeff 's had embellished, or he had heard his parents making presumptions about the Coles' plight.
“Mitchell,” she said, “Daddy and I are
not
going to lose our house. We'll have to cut back on some things, but we'll have a roof over our heads, enough to eat, and you'll never have to worry about having a place to sleep.”
“But Alex's parents lost their house and they both still had jobs.”
Mitchell was twelve years old, but suddenly he looked about six. He'd really been worried that the same thing would happen to them that had happened to the Coles. She chose her words carefully. “You know, Mitchell, just because Mike Willis told you the Coles couldn't pay their mortgage doesn't mean it's true. Maybe they really did go back to the city because they didn't like it here, like Alex told you. I understand that Alex didn't want to go, but it's the grown-ups who get to make the decisions, not the kids.”
She spoke to Reuben about it after the kids were in bed. Poor Douglas and Tanisha, having to make a quick departure without a word to anyone, probably in the middle of the night when no one could see them. “How do you suppose that happened? Like Mitchell said, they didn't have an unemployment problem like we do.”
“Camille, we don't know
what
kind of problems they had. Do you think that if one of them were out of work they would have told us about it? Those people barely said fifty words to me the whole time we've lived out here. Douglas told me about a good barber, and that was it. If their little boy didn't play with Mitchell we wouldn't even know they weren't still around.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Then again, maybe they just didn't plan well,” Reuben remarked. “There's a lot to take into consideration when you move all the way out here from the city. To be very honest, you and I could have done a better job of it ourselves. Remember how we just presumed that there'd be a day care center that stayed open until eight o'clock to cater to New York commuters?”
“Yes, I remember.” She had a flash of the funny looks she used to get from the librarians on duty when she and Reuben finally arrived to pick up the kids after seven-thirty at night. It was like they were saying, “
We
know what you're up to.” Nor could she forget Veronica's incredulous stare when she learned that they had driven to town for the day with the intent of buying a house, then turned around and drove back to New York without doing any research on the area. Reuben was right; they could have planned better.
“Do you think Mitchell is still worried?”
“No, I think I reassured him.” Camille looked around at their comfortable bedroom, which had the same black lacquer furniture they'd had in the Bronx. How frightening, she thought, to lose the roof over your head. Where did you go? Many city dwellers lived in cramped quarters already without taking in an entire family.
When she knelt to say her prayers that night, she included a prayer for the Cole family. She felt a strange vibration in her chest, like a motor running, that she recognized as stress. She really didn't know the Coles, so she didn't understand why she felt so troubled by their misfortune.
Then, as she felt Reuben climb into bed beside her, it suddenly hit her.
There but for the grace of God, go I.
She went eagerly into Reuben's embrace, thrilled to be able to make love to her husband in the privacy of their bedroom. Tanisha and Douglas Cole might not be able to have this private time together, not if they were sleeping on someone's pull-out sofa bed.
Chapter 30
The Lees
October 2003
T
he reading group had their first discussion on a Saturday night in October. Veronica, who offered to host, scheduled it to coincide with a boxing match on cable TV. Camille felt a little funny, like she should have been the one to host, since it had been her suggestion to bring Denise King into the group, but Veronica pointed out that it had been her idea to start the group in the first place.
What Veronica considerately didn't mention, and the reason Camille felt so awkward, was that the change in Reuben's work status would make entertaining a strain for them. Camille suspected that Veronica and Dawn had discussed the situation privately among themselves, probably with a “poor Camille” or two thrown in. She hated the idea of anyone feeling sorry for her.
Camille didn't want to make too much out of it, but she would have preferred to provide a meal for eight adults plus assorted childrenâeven if it was just chicken, hot dogs and baked beansânow than later. Right now they were doing fine, with Reuben getting paid from his part-time job plus a full check every two weeks as part of his severance package. In a few weeks his severance would be all paid out, and he would have only the income from his part-time job. She'd insist on having the next get-together at her house, just in case things got sticky down the road.
Reuben planned to inform his mother about his job loss after he received his final paycheck. Ginny, of course, would inform his siblings. Camille dreaded having them know her business. She would talk to them over the phone, but she could practically see the smug smiles on their faces as they tried to project real concern, asking if they'd be able to manage on a reduced income.
As part of Veronica's organizing the group, she searched a book list until she found one all of them had read. They agreed to discuss it at their first meeting, but, seated around the Lees' pecan-wood dining room table while the guys gathered in the family room, Veronica had barely had a chance to make opening remarks when Denise King said, “Did y'all hear about Doug and Tanisha Cole?”
“What about them?” Dawn's flippant tone suggested she was still smarting from Tanisha's snubbing her.
“They don't live in Arlington Acres anymore.”
Veronica looked surprised. “They sold their house?”
“In a matter of speaking. The bank sold it for them.”
Dawn drew in her breath. “They were foreclosed on?”
“I'm afraid so.” Denise turned to Camille. “You knew about it, didn't you, Camille? You lived closer to them than me.”
“Yes, I knew,” she said reluctantly. Talking about a family who'd lost their home while worried about her own family's future held little appeal, but Veronica and Dawn both seemed fascinated to know more. “They left without saying anything to anybody, except their son told Mitchell that his parents didn't like it out here and they were going back to the city. But a couple of our neighbors said they'd been foreclosed on. I thought they might have been talking out of school, but then I saw the sign in their yard saying
FORECLOSED PROPERTY FOR SALE
.”
“That's too bad,” Dawn said. “Tanisha really pissed me off that day at the store, but I hate to hear anything like that happening to anyone. At least now I understand why she didn't want to stop and chat.”
“I barely knew them myself,” Veronica said. “They didn't talk much to me, either. Essentially, they said hi and good-bye.”
“They never said much to anyone,” Camille said. “But I can't fault them for that. In hindsight, I think they've been having difficulties for a while now. People just don't lose their homes overnight.”
“You know, I saw an article in the paper that said the foreclosure rate in this area is higher than in other cities,” Denise said. “Naturally it also mentioned all the African Americans and Hispanics moving out from the city, like one has something to do with the other. I hate it when the media presents our people as being dumb.”
“So do I,” Veronica said with a shrug, “but there might be a connection. When you think about it, there's a lot working against us. First, moving so far away from our families, trusted neighbors, and established babysitters means you have no support system. Then, you have to travel to the city five days a week to keep earning New York money to pay for Pennsylvania real estate. I know I don't do it anymore,” she added quickly, “but it was hard, even just three days a week. I'd be exhausted when I got home, and I barely had a half hour to spend with my daughters before their bedtime.”
“It's hard for your children, too,” Dawn said. “Zach couldn't have been happier to have his own yard and have a puppy, but he had a hard time getting up to speed at school.”
“We had an advantage because we came out before the school year ended,” Camille said, happy to be discussing something other than foreclosure. “I met with the kids' next-year teachers to find out where they should be, and we had some home lessons over the summer.”
Dawn nodded. “I didn't have that luxury, because we came out during the summer. But I agree with Veronica. We've got a lot of strikes against us. It's not all that hard to go under. Milo and I weren't even told about half the expenses we would have. We were shocked when we got that bill for the home owners association dues. And as far as jobs are concerned, it's practically impossible to find a position in this area that pays comparably to what you make in the city.”
“I had to take a pay cut,” Denise said. “But for me it was worth it. I couldn't stand that damn commute.”
“That's one saving grace for Reuben and I,” Camille said. “At least with him working near here, he doesn't have to buy a bus pass.” She chuckled, but it didn't quite come out right. “Y'all say a prayer that he'll find a full-time job soon. Or else next year you three might be sitting around the table talking about how the Curry family lost
their
house.”