She’d never really thought about the managers and directors at the pharmaceutical firm she worked for, but if a normal working person could live like this for $740 dollars a month, how must someone making big bucks live? She suddenly felt as if she’d been swindled. She and Reuben had been missing out all this time and, even worse, so had Mitchell and Shayla.
Eric discreetly left them alone, excusing himself with the explanation he was going outside to smoke and return a few phone calls.
“Reuben, isn’t it wonderful?”
“Not bad. But I always liked the idea of having stairs.”
“That’s because most private houses in the Bronx are two stories, not that we’ve ever actually been inside one. But those houses are old. It’s a whole different type of architecture out here.”
“I’ve seen houses here that have a second floor.”
She knew he was thinking of the black man with the TV in his garage. “Yes, but those are larger houses. They’re going to cost more, probably out of our financial league. Besides, isn’t this basic model big enough for us to be comfortable in?” She never thought she’d get to live in a house with its own laundry room, tucked away between the kitchen and the garage. She always thought home owners did laundry in their kitchens.
“Let’s look at a larger one, just for G.P. Eric said the house next door is a model, too.”
Camille broke into a smile. “I guess it won’t hurt to just look.”
“Wow,” Reuben said, whistling. Now, this is a house.”
“It’s lovely, all right.” She looked around in awe. This two-story model, which resembled the one where they’d seen that black man in his garage, had a huge master bedroom and bath, with a shower and the largest bathtub Camille had ever seen. The laundry room was upstairs with the bedrooms, which at first struck her as silly before she realized that, except for kitchen dishcloths and towels, everything that got washed would go in the bedrooms or the linen closets.
“This one is a lot nicer,” she said, “but I don’t think we can afford it.”
Eric, apparently through with his calls, joined them inside. “It’s a beauty, isn’t it? The second floor is especially nice when you’re on a lake front lot. You can get out of bed in the morning and see the sun rising over the water.”
Camille began to panic. Reuben, normally so sensible, clearly had gotten carried away by the loveliness of their surroundings plus Eric’s aggressive sales pitch. She feared he was about to get them in over their heads. Even the man with the nice garage didn’t have a lakefront lot. “I’m sure it’s lovely, Eric, but with us having to commute to the city we’ll be long gone before the sun rises.”
“Eventually we hope to be able to get jobs locally,” Reuben explained to Eric. “I manage the grocery section of a supermarket, and my wife is a secretary. I know there’s not a lot of industry around here, but they have to have supermarkets, plus some kind of offices, like lawyers or something.”
“I’m not a legal secretary, Reuben,” Camille pointed out nervously.
He merely shrugged. “Can we see one of those lakefront lots you were talking about, Eric?”
Camille watched, forcing a smile, as Reuben signed a thousand-dollar check and handed it to Eric. “This will hold our lot, won’t it?” he asked.
“It sure will. Now we’ll work on getting you financed. You wanted the second model we looked at, right?”
“We’d like to see the numbers for both that one and the first house we looked at,” she said quickly. “Just so we can decide which one will be best for us financially.” The last thing she wanted was for Reuben to commit to a house they couldn’t afford. Whatever choice they made they’d have to live with for thirty years, and that was a long time.
“Sure, Mrs. Curry.”
“Reuben, the way I see it, we can either go for the smaller house on the lakefront lot or the larger house on an ordinary lot, but not both,” she said when they were back in the car on their way back to New York. “That model had a lot of bells and whistles that cost extra, like that Jacuzzi tub in the master bathroom. We’d be better off getting the basic model with a fireplace. We could probably swing having it built by the lake, but I don’t see us in anything more than that.”
“Camille, stop being so cautious. We have our savings, plus fifteen thousand dollars.”
“Our savings isn’t all that much, and that money from Aunt Mary is more like thirteen thousand now, after we pay for the trip to Disney. And I don’t want to use every dime we have to buy this house. What if the water heater breaks down or something?”
“It’s a brand-new house, Camille. It’ll come with a warranty.”
“Well, what if we have expensive car repairs? We have to have cash available in case of an emergency.”
“That’s what credit cards are for.”
She rolled her eyes. “Reuben, you know good and well that we’ve always tried to not use our credit cards.”
“But that hasn’t stopped us from having a balance, does it? You never seem to worry about using our credit card when there’s a suit on sale, do you?”
Heat rushed to her face like a home spa treatment. It was true that she dressed well to go to work, but her employer insisted on professional dress, reserving casual Fridays for warm-weather months only. Most of their Visa balance, currently $3,300, came from her wardrobe, with the rest from car repairs and other unexpected expenses.
“I have to look nice for work, Reuben,” she said weakly.
He reached for her hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze before releasing it. “I know, baby. I’m not criticizing you or anything. I’m just trying to make a point.”
Well, he’d made it, all right. “I just don’t want us to get in over our heads,” she whined.
“Will you stop worrying, Camille? It’s going to be fine. But now that you mention it, it might work out better if we drive to work ourselves than to take the bus, since I can park for free at the store.”
She considered this possibility. “Maybe we can take on a couple of carpoolers,” she suggested.
“There you go. That’s the way to think. We’ll get everything to work out just fine. And won’t the kids be surprised when we tell them they have a house in the country!”
“Yes, but let’s not tell them yet. No one needs to know our plans until we have them finalized ourselves.” She couldn’t help smiling. “Just think, you and I are going to have a home of our own.”
“It’s the American dream,” he said. “And for us it’s a dream that’s going to come true.”
Chapter 9
The Youngs
November 2001
Dawn 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 free—provided their parents had a washer and dryer—instead 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
Camille 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.�
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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.
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