She found her sister’s behavior particularly disturbing. Valerie had made it her life’s mission to find a husband, and in Veronica’s opinion she’d gone way overboard, exposing her daughter to a parade of short-term lovers and often wanting to bring them out here for a weekend.
Just last weekend there’d been an ugly scene. Valerie and her new companion, Michael—it seemed like every three or four weeks she had a new one—rode out last Saturday, Essence in tow. They intended just to spend the day, but they had a few drinks too many and Norman suggested they sleep over rather than try to drive home impaired. Valerie stated that she wanted to sleep with Michael, astonishing Veronica and Norman, and prompting Veronica to ask her privately if she slept with men at her apartment in the city while Essence was at home. “Of course not,” Valerie had said, but Veronica remained unconvinced.
She thought about asking her niece directly but decided against it. A question like that about what went on at home would put Essence on the spot, and she also felt it crossed the line. Valerie would be furious if she found out. Instead she’d asked Valerie, “Then why do you feel it’s okay to sleep with a man in my house when Essence is here?”
Valerie’s response of, “Because it’s not the same thing. Essence doesn’t have to know where Michael slept,” struck Veronica as a lame attempt at rationalization.
Norman refused to allow it. “It sets a bad example for Lorinda and Simone. They’re both impressionable kids, Vee. Valerie can do what she wants in her own home, but she’s not doing it here. Hell, if I haven’t had a few too many myself I would have driven their drunk asses to a hotel. I’m trying to be nice here, but I don’t know that dude Valerie brought with her, and I don’t really like the idea of a strange man sleeping in my house. I also don’t want Essence riding with someone who’s intoxicated. And just because your sister is sleeping with him doesn’t mean she knows a whole lot about him, either. He might be a fucking serial killer, for all I know.”
In the end Valerie and Essence slept in the guest room and Michael bunked on the sofa bed. Valerie sulked about it, and Veronica knew that if Valerie hadn’t been her sister Norman wouldn’t have held back his temper.
They discussed the situation behind the closed doors of their bedroom. “I’m beginning to wonder about your sister,” Norman said incredulously. “I think she’s turning into a slut.”
“Norman!”
“I’m sorry if that offends you, Vee, but there’s no nice way to say it. How many fellows has she brought out here in the last couple of months? It can’t be good for Essence. Valerie is setting a terrible example for her. I know it can be difficult being a single mother and all, especially since Essence’s father isn’t in the picture, but Valerie shouldn’t be exposing her daughter to all these men.”
“I agree. I’ll talk to her in the morning.”
Veronica pulled Valerie aside last Sunday and pointed out that the man she had with her this weekend was about the third guy she’d been involved with in as many months. She suggested as delicately as possible that it probably wasn’t a good idea to introduce Essence to every man she went out with. Valerie had been furious, telling Veronica she didn’t know anything and that it really wasn’t any of her business how she raised her daughter. Veronica knew they’d eventually make up, but she doubted it would happen anytime soon.
Veronica discussed the confrontation with Norman, and his response gave her new hope. “I’m thinking that maybe we should put a lock on the revolving door our families have been coming through. I understand that people like to get out of the city once in a while when the weather’s nice, but between Eddie and Michelle, Charles and Germaine, and Valerie and whoever, we’re practically being invaded.”
She had quickly agreed with him.
Veronica felt that last weekend’s fuss had put a permanent halt to her family and in-laws’ constant visits, but that feeling of being safely cocooned far away from their families in New York ended abruptly with Norman’s next words.
“Uh . . . Actually, Lucy was hoping she could have the party here.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Here?”
“Yeah. She wanted to do a barbecue. You know, during the daytime.”
Veronica decided that the spot on the floor could wait; this was more important. She got up, leaned against the kitchen counter, and said, “I don’t like the idea, Norman. We just talked last weekend about stopping our open-door policy.”
“Yeah, but Lucy hasn’t taken advantage of us the way my brothers and Valerie have.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Lucy hadn’t been out to Mount Pocono since their celebration when they changed jobs last fall. “That’s true, but think about it, Norman. We don’t know Lucy’s friends. Doesn’t the idea of having a lot of strangers roaming around our house make you uncomfortable? It’s like having that guy Michael times fifty.”
“No, it isn’t. None of them will be sleeping under our roof. They don’t even have to go inside the house unless they need to use the bathroom. It should be all right. We’ll lock the bedroom doors.”
She chuckled. “Remember when we had that New Year’s party in the city and Duane didn’t want to take off his leather jacket because he was afraid somebody would steal it?”
“Oh, I remember. We had everyone just throw their coats on our bed. But he said, ‘It’s my only coat.’” Norman laughed at the memory.
“And I hung Duane’s coat in the back of my closet, behind those drapes my mother gave us. But it was kind of sad, when you think about it. You shouldn’t have to worry about somebody walking off with your coat when you’re a guest in their home.”
“That was the source of the problem,” Norman pointed out. “Friends of ours brought friends of theirs, and we didn’t even know half the people there. Duane didn’t give his coat a second thought when he came to the party we had last fall, or again on New Year’s. And I’m pretty sure he still has just one coat.” He laughed.
Veronica didn’t even smile. “That friends-of-friends scenario is what I’m afraid of if we let Lucy have her party here, Norman. Everybody likes the idea of getting out of the hot, sticky city in July. We might end up with seventy or eighty people here. And what’ll we do with them all if it rains?”
“We’ll move the party to the basement. I understand your apprehension, Vee, but I’d really like to do this for Lucy. All she’s asking is to use our grounds.”
She felt trapped, knowing she had no way to refuse without sounding bitchy. Norman had always been close to his only sister. As the two youngest children in the family, they’d been allies growing up. Lucy even had a scar on her knee from a childhood fight she’d gotten into in defense of her little brother, who at the time was small for his age.
Norman, sensing her reluctance, tried to reassure her. “We’ll set some ground rules, the first being that she’ll have to limit the number of guests to, say, forty.”
“I can live with that. And the forty-first person who tries to get in will be thrown out on their ear.” She giggled.
Norman reached for a pad and paper and began writing. “Forty-guest limit. Let’s see, what else?”
“Let’s tell her what time the party will end,” Veronica prompted. “I don’t want people thinking they can hang out here until all hours. The neighbors will have a fit if we’re playing music late, and we want Lorinda and Simone to get to sleep.”
“Since it’s a barbecue, it’ll be held during the day, anyway.”
“So they can leave by nine. That’s plenty of time, don’t you think?”
Norman nodded. “They probably won’t even stick around that long, if they’ve been out here all day.”
She grew quiet as she thought some more. “I assume Lucy is providing the food?”
“Of course.”
“Humph. She’d better have plenty. She’ll have to provide both lunch and dinner.”
“Don’t worry about that, Vee. It’s not our problem.”
She wished he felt a
s apprehensive as she did about hosting this party, but she didn’t want to be a killjoy, especially where Lucy was concerned. She could still see them comforting each other at their mother’s funeral six years ago. She wanted Norman to preserve his close relationship with his sister.
She sighed. “I guess, but I want you to make it understood that the only thing we’re supplying is the yard and the grill.”
Chapter 25
The Youngs
June 2003
Dawn filled everyone’s glasses while Milo prepared for another game of PO-KE-NO. The Lees and the Currys had come over this Saturday night, and the six of them were playing for twenty-five cents a pot while their children played in the backyard, although they’d be coming in soon because the sun had finally set. She’d made a pitcher of Strawberry Daiquiris, and they also had Miller Genuine Draft on ice.
Milo seemed to be enjoying his role of host, which made her happy. What a nice change to see him having fun instead of complaining about the high cost of living in the country. He got up and turned up the volume on the stereo. An old Earth, Wind & Fire CD spun in the player, and Milo did an imitation of Phillip Bailey, clutching at his throat in mock pain as the singer’s pitch soared. They’d have to do this more often, Dawn thought, but it was awfully difficult to catch Veronica and Norman on a weekend when they weren’t working. Both of them worked as much overtime as they could get. Dawn wished she could make some extra cash, but even if she had time to put in extra hours she didn’t receive overtime pay because of her management supervisory position.
“So how’s everybody on the bus?” Norman asked.
“Same old shit,” Reuben said. “Everybody complains about how long it takes to get to New York and asking when the hell the train is coming.”
“Puh-leese. It hasn’t even been proposed yet,” Camille said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If you ask me, we’ll be bussing it for a long time to come.”
“Oh, Dawn, I love pigs in a blanket,” Veronica said, reaching eagerly into the dish Dawn placed on the table.
“Good. I do, too.” The pay-per-view boxing championship Milo had ordered didn’t begin until 9:30, so instead of dinner Dawn served snack food and hors d’oeuvres.
She reclaimed her seat at the dining room table, hungrily eyeing the Four Corners and Four of a Kind bowls, both of which nearly overflowed with quarters. Unlike the Center and PO-KE-NO bowls, which had winners every game, these two had gone unclaimed long enough to practically become jackpots, albeit small ones, maybe forty or fifty dollars. Winning a pot would certainly prolong Milo’s good spirits. Hell, it would be enough to pay for the extra cable charge.
“You ready, Dawn?” Milo asked.
“Go ahead.”
Dawn looked up expectantly as Camille returned to the dining room, where the women had remained after they had stopped playing PO-KE-NO and the fellows took over the family room to watch the fight. “Kids all right?”
“Yeah, but a little tired, I think. We’ll probably leave soon, but everything was lovely, Dawn.”
“Thanks!” She appreciated Camille’s compliment, but inside she felt like a victim of bad luck. Damn it, why couldn’t she or Milo have won one of those PO-KE-NO pots? Veronica had won the Four Corners and Reuben the Four of a Kind, so she and Milo came up empty.
“Yes, it was,” Veronica agreed. “But good luck trying to pry Reuben away from that TV. You’d better hope for a quick knockout.”
Veronica and Dawn laughed.
“Ah, this is nice,” Dawn said. “I wish the weekends were three days instead of two. This is the only time Milo and I get to really enjoy our home.”
“I know what you mean,” Camille said. “Veronica, you and Norman don’t know how lucky you are not to have that problem anymore.”
Veronica shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. Dawn decided that Veronica probably felt a little uncomfortable because she no longer had to make the long commute to New York while she and Camille did. After all, she’d done it and knew firsthand what a pain in the ass it was.
Dawn searched for something to say to change the subject and put Veronica at ease. “I’m glad Milo and I managed to find a Saturday when both you guys could come over,” she said.
“Well, Norman and I decided we were having too much company on the weekends,” Veronica said, “but trying to get the point across to our families turned out to be harder than I thought it would.” She lowered her voice, although they were well away from the family room. “You won’t believe what happened last week.”
“Tell, tell,” Camille said, rubbing her palms together eagerly, like a child who’d been promised a surprise.
“Norman’s brother Eddie called and asked if he could come out with his wife and kids this weekend. I told him it wasn’t a good time because we’d been invited somewhere, and he merely said, ‘That’s all right. Y’all go ahead. Michelle and I and the kids will do our own thing.’”
“Well, what’d you say?” Dawn asked.
“I put Norman on the phone and let him deal with it. Norman told him as nicely as he could that we’re not able to accommodate weekend company as often as we have in the past. I don’t expect to see either of his brothers until the barbecue.” She remembered she hadn’t yet told her friends about Lucy’s birthday party. “That reminds me,” she said—before they could ask “What barbecue?”—“Norman and I are letting his sister have a barbecue at our place. She’s celebrating her big 4-0. I hope both of you can make it, and bring the kids. It’s the weekend after next.”
“It’s sure nice of you to give a party for your husband’s sister,” Camille remarked. “If I were to give either of Reuben’s sisters anything, it would probably be . . .”—she paused to think before concluding—“whooping cough.”
“You give me too much credit, Camille. We’re not giving the party for her. She’s doing it all herself—the food, the beer, the music. She’s just using our house. But Norman and I laid down some conditions, and one of them included that we could invite a handful of people.” Again, she lowered her voice. “You know, Dawn, I’m thinking you and Milo had the right idea by putting your computer and exercise equipment in your third bedroom. Maybe if we hadn’t bought new bedroom furniture for our extra room, we wouldn’t have had this problem.”
Camille took a sip of her Strawberry Daiquiri. “Reuben and I don’t even have a spare bedroom, but it hasn’t stopped his family from coming out pretty regularly. We actually had to buy air mattresses for them. I guess the thought of staying at the Holiday Inn never occurred to them. It was just, ‘We’re coming out for Thanksgiving,’ or ‘We’re coming out for Memorial Day. Please make sure everyone has a place to sleep.’ Like they’re making fucking hotel reservations or something,” she concluded, exasperation tingeing her voice.
“I can top that,” Veronica said. “My brothers-in-law both brought their own air mattresses when Norman and I gave that New Year’s party, so they wouldn’t have to stay at a hotel. They slept in the basement. And my sister-in-law Michelle told me confidentially that not having a room of their own didn’t stop Germaine and Charles from having sex right there. Can you imagine? Michelle said it was like running a porn movie with just the sound.”
They all laughed uproariously at that, from both Veronica’s tale and the effects of multiple drinks laced with rum.
“Having your in-laws visit constantly is hard to take, even if you like them,” Camille declared, sounding a little tipsy. “Which I don’t. Of course, Reuben’s brother and sisters all said that our moving out here means we think we’re better than everyone else. So I guess we won’t have to worry about them beating a path to our door on a regular basis, unless there’s a holiday and they want someplace to go, like Memorial Day a couple of weeks ago and the Fourth of July a couple of weeks from now.”
“I don’t think that’s the right way to be,” Dawn said. “Families are supposed to be happy when someone accomplishes something special, like when they have their first colleg
e graduate. Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but maybe they’re just jealous.”
Camille leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. Dawn noticed her eyes were a little teary. “No doubt about that.”
“Milo and I have lived here since last August, and our families have always made excuses when we invited them out,” Dawn said. “They finally agreed to come out July 4th.”
Veronica grunted. “Hopefully it won’t be the beginning of your not being able to call a weekend your own.”
“It doesn’t sound like it, if it took them this long to get out here,” Camille pointed out.
“Don’t let that fool you. It took Norman’s brothers months to get out here for their first visit, but they’ve certainly made up for it.”
Dawn spoke up. “Veronica, I know you don’t have this problem, but, Camille, what do you plan to do with Mitchell and Shayla over summer vacation?”
“Last year we had one of Reuben’s nieces come out from the city and watch them. It actually worked out rather well, except for the two-week gap in between when school lets out here and when school lets out in the city. I had to take a leave of absence from work so I could stay home with them before Kierra came, and I’ll do the same again this year, I suppose, even though we can’t really afford it. But now Reuben’s other sister wants her daughter to spend the summer.”
“Ooh, sticky. How do you plan to handle that?” Dawn asked.
“The same way Veronica handled her in-laws. I’m leaving it up to Reuben to sort out.”
“Sounds like everybody wants to stay at The Curry Country Club,” Veronica said with a laugh.
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