Chapter 9
The Youngs
November 2001
D
awn and Milo sat side by side at the dinette, going over their complete financial picture. Their net worth wouldn't impress anyone, especially after considering they were in their late thirties and had been in the workforce nearly twenty years.
“I guess we should have put more emphasis on saving,” Dawn said sheepishly. “I just never thought we'd be able to afford a house, so why shouldn't we indulge ourselves here and there?” In fact, they indulged themselves regularly, a fact she conveniently chose to overlook.
“Well, we're going to have to come up with some money quick if we expect to get a house now,” Milo said. “We've paid our bills on time and we don't have a whole lot of debt, but we only have a few thousand dollars in the bank. At least part of the money we spent on dinners out and vacations should have been put in the bank instead.” He tapped the table with his pencil. “I'm seeing things differently now. We should have kept our cars for another two or three years instead of trading them in as soon as they're paid for. All that could have been money put away instead of having car payments that never ended. And we don't really have to have a hundred-and-something cable channels, do we?” He muttered a “Shhh” sound, but stopped short of saying the word. “Now I'm wishing we hadn't taken Zach on that cruise in July.”
“But he loved going to Bermuda and playing with all the other kids on the ship. We all had a good time.” Dawn felt guilty. She'd been the one to press for the new cars, for the best seats at concerts, for designer labels in their clothes, and to stay at the nicest hotels when they traveled. Milo usually went along because he wanted her to be happy. She'd fallen into the trap of surrounding them with the finest material things they could afford, while doing little to provide for their future, other than generous contributions to their 401(k) accounts.
Now she realized that people who got ahead didn't spend so freely. Couples determined to buy homes would scrimp and save, do their laundry at their parents' homes for freeâprovided their parents
had
a washer and dryerâinstead of paying by the load at the Laundromat, would brown-bag their lunches and vacation at the Jersey shore. Even if they ended up buying a co-op apartment, at least it was theirs. And their investment reduced their withholding tax burden and put them on the road to financial security.
“We had a good thing going, with those fabricated W2s to get lower rent every year,” Milo continued. “But we should have banked more of what we saved in rent. A lot more.”
Dawn hesitated, almost afraid to hear the answer to the question she was about to ask. “So what do you think our chances are of getting the house?”
“The way it looks right now, not very good,” Milo replied in his usual, take-no-prisoners manner. He looked as somber as a funeral director. “But don't give up, Dawn. Remember what Eric said about how the lender they use works with people? As long as they're not talking something outrageous like 10 percent interest, I'm willing to sit down and see what they can do for us.”
Dawn listened in on the extension. The loan officer on the other end of the phone knew she was on the line, but since Milo provided answers to all his questions, she really had no need to contribute. She prayed they would be able to work something out. She wanted that house so badly.
She chewed her lower lip as she listened. The loan officer, Jim Brickman, startled them when he announced that he was not an employee of the major bank that Eric Nylund had told them handled mortgage loans for Arlington Acres, but from a lender neither of them had ever heard of. “We're helping the big boys do the legwork, since their loan department is getting overwhelmed,” he explained.
“Now, I have the figures you faxed to Eric,” he said. “Let me ask you something. Have either of you ever had a previous mortgage loan?”
“No,” Milo answered. “We've both lived in Brooklyn all our lives, in apartments.”
“Well, you'll be glad to know that we have a special program to help you amass a down payment. I see your rent is $720 a month.”
“That's right.”
“This is how our program works. You make your rent check payable to us each month for the next six months. In turn, we will deposit that check in a special escrow account, and we will take care of paying your rent. The total of $4,500, give or take a few dollars, plus what you already have to put down, will give you what you need to make the required down payment. In other words, we're advancing you your down payment.”
“When do we pay it back?” Milo asked.
“It'll be worked into your mortgage loan, so you'll actually pay it back over thirty years.”
Milo looked up to meet Dawn's gaze and gestured to her, encouraging her to ask any questions. She shook her head. She knew all about payroll and withholding taxes because of her work, but she found real estate finances confusing.
“And what's the hitch?” Milo asked. “Because I'm sure there is one, somewhere.”
“The hitch is that construction can't begin until all your financing is set, so you're looking at approximately May, or being part of Phase II of construction. But that still means you'll be able to move into your new house by the end of August. Construction tends to move faster during the warmer weather. No blizzards or ice storms to slow down the process.”
Dawn recognized disappointment on her husband's face across the room, and she spoke for the first time. “But that's not bad, Milo. At least Zach will be able to start his new school at the start of the semester. If we moved in the spring he would have to change midyear.”
“That's a good point, Mrs. Young,” Jim said. “You see, we have several programs to offer assistance to first-time home buyers such as yourselves. Based on the numbers and the credit score I'm seeing, this is the one that would work best for you. You see, we want to put you in a brand-new home. And, more than that, we're
committed
to it.”
Chapter 10
The Currys
November 2001
C
amille closed her eyes and savored the taste of sweet potato pie. Reuben's sister Brenda added coconut to hers, something many people disliked but Camille loved. She looked forward to the holidays every year to get some of this pie. Forget about her diet and the six pounds she'd managed to lose so far. She'd definitely have seconds. And she'd ask to bring a piece home.
Every Thanksgiving the Curry family always gathered to have dessert at Brenda's apartment in a highrise on Sedgewick Avenue. Camille, Reuben, and the kids had eaten with her father and stepmother in Inwood, and Reuben's brother ate with his girlfriend's family. Besides, with about a dozen members of the Curry family, no one had an apartment large enough to accommodate all of them for a sit-down dinner. Dessert was easier; you just brought your plate to the couch or a chair, or even the floor.
One thing that always struck Camille when she was around her in-laws was that they were one good-looking bunch of people. The siblings all resembled each other, all having been blessed with the best genes of their mother and late father, with straight noses, prominent cheekbones, and distinctively almond-shaped eyes. Reuben and his brother Saul took their light brown complexions from their father, who had shown no signs of a receding hairline, even at the time of his death at sixty-one; while their sisters Brenda and Arnelle were browner, like their mother, Ginny.
“So when do you guys leave for Orlando?” Brenda asked.
“Tuesday. We'll be back Saturday.”
Brenda made a clucking sound with her tongue. “You guys are making it hard for the rest of us. All the kids are saying they want to go to Disney World like Mitchell and Shayla.”
“We're going to Wet 'n Wild and Sea World, too, aren't we, Mom?” Mitchell bragged.
Camille poked his upper arm and whispered,
“Shh!”
“You'll get there,” she said confidently to Brenda.
Saul, Reuben's older brother, spoke up. “Yeah, well, if Aunt Mary left me some ducats I'd be able to take my kids to Disney, too. If I had any kids.”
Camille bit her lower lip. She'd been waiting for that. Reuben's siblings were all so jealous that Aunt Mary remembered him and not them, although none of them had done a damn thing for her.
“And take a cruise, and get me a new car to boot,” Saul continued. “You guys gonna be drivin' a new Caddy soon, I guess.”
Camille knew she should let Reuben answer that, but she couldn't help responding. “We didn't get
that
much.” Of course, all three of Reuben's siblings knew exactly how much they'd received, courtesy of their mother, Ginny, who was Aunt Mary's younger sister.
“And we didn't buy a car,” Reuben said calmly. “Actually, we bought a house.”
His announcement met with a few seconds of complete silence. Reuben's other sister, Arnelle, broke the quiet. “A house?” she asked incredulously.
“Where?” Brenda demanded.
“In Tobyhanna, Pennsylvania,” Reuben replied.
“Toby what?”
“Tobyhanna. It's near the Pocono Mountains, about a hundred miles from here.”
“Y'all relocating?” Saul asked. “You must be crazy, givin' up that good job at the supermarket. You got security, man.”
“Actually, they have supermarkets in Pennsylvania, too, Saul,” Reuben said with a smile, “but both Camille and I are keeping our jobs, at least for the time being. We're going to commute to work.”
Ginny spoke for the first time. “All the way to New York? Won't that be exhausting for you?”
Camille leaned back in her chair unhappily, determined not to say another word. Her in-laws reacted to their news exactly how she predicted they would. No congratulations, no that's wonderfuls, no you go, guys, nothing but pointing out all the negatives.
“Don't get me wrong, I'm glad for you,” Ginny said, “but I can't help being a little concerned. How will you two manage to drive a hundred miles each way, every day?”
“I'm not sure we'll drive in, Mom, at least not every day. They have a commuter bus that runs regularly until they get the train going.”
“Well, if you drive, you'd better hope that car holds up,” Saul said.
“The Malibu will be fine. It's only two years old.”
“So when are you guys moving?” Arnelle asked.
“In the spring.”
“Why so long? Surely it doesn't take that long for all the paperwork to get processed.”
“The house won't be ready until then.”
“What'd you guys do,” Brenda asked, “buy one of those real old fixer-uppers that needs a lot of work?” The pleased look on her face suggested she liked the idea of them living in an antiquated dump.
Camille gritted her teeth. She wanted to slap that smug smile off her sister-in-law's face.
It delighted her that Reuben remained so calm. “No, Brenda. It's in a development where all the houses are brand-new. It has to be built from the ground up.”
“You mean it's a
new
house?”
Camille grinned at Brenda's obvious flustered state and forgot her vow to not speak. “Brand-spanking, never-been-lived-in-before new,” she said proudly.
“How much you pay for it?” Saul demanded to know.
“Saul, don't be tryin' to get in our business,” Reuben warned.
“I just wanna know how y'all can afford a brand-new house. What is it, some kinda low-income housing project or something?”
Camille gasped audibly. This was the last straw. A project? How dare Saul say such a thing?
“Of course it's not a project,” she snapped. “It's a beautiful two-story house, right on the lake, with a fireplace and a two-car garage and a bathroom inside the master bedroom with both a big shower and a sculpted Jacuzzi tub. And plenty of grass. How many
projects
do you see have features like that?”
“Take it easy, Camille,” Saul said, “I was just asking.”
“Yeah, in the most insulting way you could. Who the hell moves two states away to live in the projects?” She glared at her brother-in-law. For the first time she felt glad that she'd allowed herself to be convinced to buy the larger house Reuben wanted. Wait until Saul and the rest saw it. Their eyes would get as big as Tracee Ross's.
Ginny spoke out calmly. “All right. No reason for anyone to lose their temper. Reuben, Camille, your house sounds lovely. I just hope . . .”
Here it comes
, Camille thought angrily.
“. . . you two haven't bitten off more than you can chew.”
“We wouldn't have bought it if we couldn't afford it, Mom,” Reuben assured her.
“Well, who knows? I might have bought a condo or something for myself if my sister left me enough to do it with,” Ginny commented airily.
“Have you gotten a mortgage loan yet?” Arnelle asked.
Camille knew she hoped that they wouldn't get approved, but they already had been. She and Reuben would never announce their intentions if the plan wasn't solid. Still, it hurt to hear Arnelle in particular sound so hopeful that their plans wouldn't work out. How many times had she loaned her sister-in-law money so her lights wouldn't get cut off?
Saul hadn't given up painting a picture of doom and gloom. “What happens if the builders run out of money and can't finish the house? You guys just lose your deposit?”
“They'll finish it, Saul,” Reuben replied, unruffled. “They've built hundreds of homes in the area. The developers are multimillionaires.”
“Well, just try not to forget about your poor city relations once you're living large in your bright, shiny new house,” Saul said.
Arnelle leaned forward and spoke so only Camille could hear. “Now I know why you told me what you did the other week, Camille.”
Two weeks ago Arnelle had asked to borrow eighty dollars to pay her cable bill, and Camille had turned her down, saying she and Reuben had begun a tight new budget with nothing to spare. Arnelle had clearly been shocked by the refusal. She whined a little, saying the cable company would cut her off if she didn't pay, but Camille held firm. “You and Tiffany have a roof over your heads and enough to eat,” she'd said. “Living without HBO for a while isn't the end of the world.” She felt proud of herself for not caving in to her sister-in-law's attempts at manipulation. Even now, sensing an attempt on Arnelle's part to make her feel guilty, Camille looked her dead in the eye and merely smiled.
“Y'all sure are livin' large,” Brenda remarked. She paused a beat and added, “Thanks to Aunt Mary.”
Camille rolled her eyes, not caring if they saw her. Her family had reacted similarly when she and Reuben announced their plans at dinner, with the general consensus being that they'd gotten too big for their britches. She didn't understand their disapproval. What was so wrong about wanting to improve your life and that of your children? But with the Curry side of the family they also had to deal with snide remarks about how Reuben alone had benefited from their aunt's will. None of them had even so much as picked up the phone to say hello to the old lady, but that didn't matter, they still felt slighted.
Reuben, thank God, handled all the derogatory remarks like a pro. “We'd love it if you guys came to visit us. We'll be moved in just in time for the barbecue season.”
“So your house isn't even built yet?” Ginny asked.
“Well, no, Mom. It's a new community. People come in, pick out the house they want and the lot they want it built on, and once they get approved for a mortgage loan they sign contracts and the builders go to work. That's how it works.”
Camille wanted to tell him not to bother, that they wouldn't understand.
In truth, sometimes she had trouble grasping the concept herself. Initially she'd worried about whether or not they would qualify for a mortgage. They'd paid some bills late here and there over the years. The bank loan officer advised them to pay down some of their debt before making a formal application, so they reluctantly took two thousand dollars from their savings and complied. Their reward was a reasonably low interest rate.
Sometimes Camille still worried about how they would manage, living so far away from their network of families and friends who also provided babysitting support, but Reuben radiated such confidence she told herself it was foolish to worry. Besides, after the comments she'd had to listen to today, the more distance between them and their families, the better. And surely nervousness among first-time home buyers was a perfectly natural reaction. A home was the biggest purchase a person ever made. Before this she and Reuben had bought nothing more substantial than cars.
Still, what was that Saul said? “I hope your car holds out.” Driving two hundred miles round-trip five days a week was an awful lot of wear and tear on a vehicle. Hell, that added up to a thousand miles a week. She wondered if Reuben had thought of that. They probably should forget about any plans to drive and take the commuter bus, at least for now. They'd switch to the train once it started running.
And she would check the want ads faithfully every Sunday. Like Reuben said, surely someone locally would have need for a secretary. She worked in the marketing department now, but she could handle anything as long as it wasn't too specialized, like medicine or law. Surely she'd have to take a pay cut, but it would be worth it if she didn't have to spend over two hundred dollars a month to commute to New York. Just think, if she had a job in Stroudsburg she'd be able to watch the sun rise over the lake behind her backyard every morning.
She couldn't wait.
December 2001
“Okay, here we are!” Camille said. The kids had pestered her and Reuben continually with “Are-we-there-yet?” for the last fifty miles. It reminded her of how she felt during that endless bus ride to camp as a child, wondering if they'd ever get there. At least they wouldn't have to make the round-trip every day after they moved in, unlike Reuben and her.
Mitchell and Shayla were speechless as they took in the smooth paved streets and the children playing in their front yards. Even the sight of partially constructed houses on dirt lots, with builders' materials littering the front yards, and other lots that were completely empty, didn't take away from the attractive neighborhood.
“This is pretty,” Shayla proclaimed. “Like in the
Beethoven
movies.”
“And this is where our house is going to be,” Reuben said proudly. “Look. They've already laid the foundation. I'm glad they got it in before we had any snow, or else our house might not be ready in April like it's supposed to be.”
Camille stared at the deep concrete square.