One House Over

by Mary Monroe

  “Yeah, but . . . well, there is a real good reason why my kids ain’t with me.”

  “Oh? What is the reason?”

  Yvonne took another sip before she answered. “I got in a little trouble when I was too young and foolish to know better and I had to spend a couple of years in jail.”

  “Oh.” I swallowed hard and sucked in some air. This was not what I had expected to hear. I felt bamboozled. I wondered what else Yvonne was hiding from me and Odell. If she had been in jail, there was no telling what kind of deep dark secrets Milton had. “I’ve never had an ex-con in my house before. . . .”

  “Well, you can’t say that no more. I don’t tell people until I really get to know them. While I was locked up, the state took my children. If my aunt and uncle hadn’t took them in, they would have put them in the asylum for orphans. That’s the worst place in the world for a colored child to end up.”

  “My Lord. I’m surprised Willie Frank never blabbed this information to us before now. He already told me he spent time in prison. What about Milton?”

  “What about Milton?”

  “It doesn’t bother him that you spent some time in jail?”

  Yvonne let out a loud breath and shook her head. “No, he don’t mind. He was in prison hisself when he met Willie Frank.”

  Good God! Milton was an ex-con too! I had assumed he had a shady past, so the news about him being a jailbird didn’t surprise me at all. “I see. Was it just one time?”

  “Uh-huh. Me and Milton ain’t been in trouble with the law since. And in case you want to know what we did—”

  I held up my hand and shook my head. “It must not have been too bad if they’ve already turned y’all loose. Most of the colored people I know that go to prison stay there for years and years, or get executed. And that’s because they killed somebody or raped a white woman.”

  “Honest to God, me and Milton would never kill nobody, and he ain’t crazy enough to even look at no white woman, let alone rape one. We learned our lesson and even found Jesus.”

  My jaw dropped. “Y’all got religion?” I asked. This news was even more shocking than hearing they’d been in prison.

  “Yup. We joined New Hope Baptist Church two years ago, the same one that they use for a school during the week. I attended it from the first to the eighth grade. I didn’t learn much, though. But I’m learning a heap of stuff about the Lord.”

  “Hmmm. I used to feel so sorry for the students that had to go to that dump to learn. Those outside toilets, dog-eared books, and lazy teachers would have made me drop out in a heartbeat!”

  “Some of us didn’t have no choice.”

  “Well, that’s life.” I hunched my shoulders and gave Yvonne a sympathetic look. “The good thing is that’s all behind you now. Stay with Jesus, and He’ll stay with you. How often do y’all go to church?”

  Yvonne blinked and looked embarrassed. “We ain’t been since last Easter, but we plan to start going at least a couple of times a month real soon. We want to continue to honor God.”

  “That’s good to hear. Me and Odell don’t go as often as we should, but we will in the future. And when we have kids, we’ll go every Sunday.”

  Yvonne exhaled and massaged her chest, as if she’d finally removed a heavy load by letting me know more about her past. I didn’t feel threatened or concerned about living next door to ex-convicts. She seemed so sorry about whatever it was she’d done that had landed her in jail. And as long as they would “continue to honor God,” I truly believed that she and Milton would stay out of trouble. “Thanks for listening to me, Joyce. I feel so much better.”

  “I know you love your kids and want to spend more time with them. I think you need to have a serious talk with your aunt and uncle and let them know just how much you miss your babies. I hope they don’t make you wait until your kids get grown before they tell them who you really are. There is no reason in the world why your children shouldn’t know they still have a mama.”

  “Thanks for saying that, Joyce,” Yvonne sniffled. “I’m surprised to hear a woman like you say something like that.”

  My chest tightened. I hoped she was not going to make another comment that would make me feel bad about myself. I had put that other one she’d made the day we went shopping out of my mind. “What do you mean by that?”

  “For one thing, you smarter than any other woman I know. And you real sweet and down to earth for such a big-boned woman. Exactly what size do you wear anyway, a sixteen?”

  “I wear a size fourteen,” I sniffed. I sucked in my gut, even though I had on a girdle that made my stomach look almost as flat as Yvonne’s.

  “Oh. I never would have guessed that.”

  “And at least I’m not fat, I’m just tall.” It had been years since anybody had mentioned my size in my presence. Even though I was comfortable with it now, it was still a sensitive subject I didn’t like to discuss. Especially with a woman as attractive as Yvonne. Did tiny women have tiny brains, too? I wondered.

  “True. Tall women like you can carry more weight and still look good. With your long legs and arms, you got a lot of extra space for the fat to spread out in and not be too noticeable.”

  “Do you think there’s something wrong with me being big?” Now my heart was pounding too and I felt hot inside. I braced myself because I had a feeling that whatever else she had to say on the subject probably wouldn’t be flattering. She had all but told me she didn’t think I was attractive....

  Yvonne gave me a serious look and shook her head. “No. It’s just that all the other great big women I know is so bitter because of the way they look, they act cold and mean and nasty most of the time. They don’t even know how to dress half as sharp as you do. By the way, where do you buy your frocks? You got a whole lot of style and you always look real nice.”

  “I . . . I . . . order a lot of my clothes from catalogs. My mama makes the rest,” I replied. Maybe Yvonne didn’t think I was as unattractive as I’d thought a few seconds ago. I felt better. “Back to the subject of your kids,” I eased in.

  She looked confused. “What about my kids?”

  “Now don’t you take this the wrong way, but Odell is very particular. I know he won’t like his children living next door to bootleggers.”

  “Say what? Girl, y’all ain’t even got no children!” Yvonne hollered. Her eyebrows furrowed and her face suddenly got so red, it looked like somebody had spray-painted her.

  “No, we don’t have any now. But we will have a few someday.”

  “Humph. Well, none of our guests ever get too rowdy and raise hell the way a lot of folks do in the jook joints and some of the other bootleggers’ houses and beer gardens. We ain’t never had no fighting and people puking their guts out and yelling and screaming all the time. Me and Milton run one of the most respectable bootlegging houses in Branson!” Yvonne boomed with her lips quivering and her tongue snapping over every word. I was happy to see her so riled up after making that comment about my size.

  “I know all that. It’s just that for my soon-to-be-born children’s sake, I am not going to allow them to spend too much time at your house.” I was still slightly hot, but I managed to look as cool as I sounded. “That’s a bad environment for real young people.”

  Yvonne heaved out a sigh and glanced around the room. When she returned her attention to me, she had a misty-eyed look. “You don’t want your kids to be friends with me and Milton?”

  Despite her opinion of the way I looked, I held up my hand and decided to backpedal. “I didn’t say that and it’s not what I meant,” I said in a gentle tone. “Kids are naturally curious and impulsive. They see something going on in your house that looks like fun, and the next thing you know they’ll be trying it out themselves. I really like you and will always be your friend, but I have to draw the line when it comes to raising kids. I’d ball up and die if one of my babies took a shine to that Willie Frank and started chewing tobacco like him!”

  Yvonne blinked and
nodded. “I can understand you wanting to protect your kids from bad influences. I guess you and Odell won’t even drink in your own house no more if you ever have any, huh? It’s a damn shame that y’all ain’t had no luck all these years. . . .”

  My chest tightened some more. I felt sad, but I refused to show it. “When me and Odell have ours, we won’t drink in front of them. We are going to limit the devilment going on around ours as much as we can.”

  Yvonne laughed and gave me a dismissive wave. “Joyce, you shouldn’t even be thinking about things like that now. Wait until you have some kids. I’m sorry we got on this subject. I can see how bad it’s making you feel. But I do know what you mean.”

  “I’m glad you see things my way. I know you miss not having yours with you, but they are so much better off with your aunt and uncle.” I paused long enough to catch my breath. “Too bad you married a man who’s involved in bootlegging and socializing with hillbillies and people like Aunt Mattie and a bunch of prostitutes. You’d be much better off if you’d found somebody like Odell.”

  She gave me a blank stare and took her time responding. “I don’t know about that. Odell ain’t my type.”

  I was thrilled to hear her say that. I just hoped she meant it. Not that Odell would ever get involved with a woman like Yvonne.

  “Milton is the only man I ever really loved. I’m blessed to have him for a husband, praise the Lord. As long as he treat me good, he can associate with anybody he want to. I ain’t his mama, so I can’t tell him how to live his life,” she declared.

  “Then you must not want your kids back bad enough.” I glanced at her empty glass. “Let me pour you some more wine. You look like you need it.”

  “Don’t bother. I done had enough, and I need to get home and straighten up the house before folks start showing up.” Yvonne stood up, and I escorted her to the door.

  Chapter 41

  Odell

  WHEN I PULLED UP IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE SUNDAY NIGHT, JOYCE was standing on our front porch. Every light was on and the front door was standing wide open. I parked and piled out of the car and ran up the porch steps two at a time. “What’s the matter, sugar?” I hollered, grabbing her by the hand.

  “Nothing,” she said in a weak tone.

  I glanced toward the house next door and all the vehicles parked outside. “What you doing standing out here in the dark?”

  “I was getting worried about you. It’s almost ten o’clock,” she said, leading me inside to the couch. I sat down, but she stood in front of me with her arms folded.

  “I would have been home a hour ago, but I had to stop by the store.” I let out a disgusted groan and shook my head. “I remembered some paperwork I had forgot to finish before I closed up Friday evening.”

  Joyce’s mouth dropped open. “And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow when you go back to the store?”

  “It could have, but I had promised Mac I’d have it done by Monday morning. What would I do if he decided to pop in tomorrow before I could get it done?”

  “Daddy hardly ever goes to the store since he retired, Odell.”

  “So?”

  “So what made you think he’d suddenly decide to show up tomorrow before you could finish your paperwork? Even if he did pop in tomorrow, I doubt if he’d come before noon.”

  I gave Joyce a weary look and hunched my shoulders. “Baby, come sit down next to me. I missed you.” I patted the couch, but Joyce dropped down into my lap. “Now give me some sugar.” I kissed her long and hard and squeezed her tittie, the way I always did when I wanted to get her hot.

  “I hope you had a good time out there in the sticks,” she said before she nibbled on my earlobe.

  “Yeah, right. Daddy and Ellamae ain’t the most fun-loving people in the world. He slept most of the time I was out there, and she had me doing all kinds of shit around the house. I shucked a whole bushel of corn and washed and walked that lazy hound dog they got. Yesterday, I took Daddy to get his hair cut and when we got back to the house, Ellamae had went to sleep and left a pan of cornbread cooking in the oven. If we hadn’t got back when we did, there ain’t no telling what might have happened.”

  “Odell, maybe we should seriously think about moving them closer to us so we can keep an eye on them the way we do with my mama and daddy.”

  “Pffft! I done told you before that they ain’t never leaving that shack alive. Besides, they done paid off the mortgage and moving to a new place where they’d have to pay rent ain’t something they’d even think about doing.”

  “With the few bucks we’ve saved up, we’d be able to help them with their rent and other expenses. You know I wouldn’t mind doing that.”

  I gasped so hard my heart felt like it rotated in a complete circle. The “few bucks” Joyce thought we had saved up was fewer than she thought. “Baby, our savings is for our old age.” I hoped that by the time Joyce and I reached our golden years, my boys would be grown and on their own and Betty Jean would be the only one I’d still be supporting. If Joyce ever got nosy about exactly how much money we had before then, I’d put the blame on our bank. The Great Depression was not as bad as it used to be, but a few banks was still responsible for some folks losing their money. If I had to file a claim against ours just to make my case look good to Joyce, I could drag it out for years. Being colored, no matter what lawyer I hired, I’d be put on a back burner. Me and Joyce would probably die of old age before things got sorted out. I had it all figured out, but I had to stay on my toes. No matter how naïve Joyce was when it came to me, she was still smart in some areas. And I wasn’t going to be dumb enough to underestimate her.

  “Well, maybe we could move them in with us.”

  “What’s wrong with you? Living with old folks ain’t no walk in the park. If Daddy and Ellamae moved in with us, they’d probably drive us crazy in the first month.”

  “I don’t care. I’m thinking about the big picture. Me and you might be in the same boat someday and we’d want our kids to take care of us.”

  “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” I gazed in Joyce’s eyes and kissed her again. “Baby, let’s not talk about nothing like that right now.” I glanced toward the kitchen and sniffed. “Do I smell mustard greens cooking?”

  “No. When you didn’t come home by five or six like you usually do, I made myself a ham sandwich for supper.”

  “Oh. Well, can I smell some mustard greens?”

  “We don’t have any and all the stores are closed. I’ll go in the kitchen and fix you a sandwich.” Joyce stood up, smoothing down the sides of her flowered duster.

  “Thanks, baby.” I got up and followed her.

  “I was going to call up Patsy and ask her to drive me out to your daddy’s house this evening,” Joyce said as she opened the icebox.

  I froze and my stomach started doing flip-flops. “You was going to do what?” I couldn’t remember the last time my voice sounded so raspy.

  Joyce turned around with a bowl of smoked ham in her hand and set it on the counter. “I didn’t do that because I know how much you hate surprises. Besides that, Patsy’s husband probably wouldn’t have let her out the house at night anyway. That man is so suspicious. For some reason he thinks she’s fooling around with another man.” Joyce went to the drawer and pulled out a butter knife and a fork. “What do you want on your sandwich?”

  “Um, don’t worry about it. I ain’t as hungry as I thought I was. You feel like having a drink or two?”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” Joyce said, grinning. “But last night I finished off that elderberry wine we had.”

  I gasped and gave Joyce a stunned look. “Say what? We had a whole bottle when I left the house on Friday.”

  “Yeah, but Yvonne came over yesterday and we drank almost all of it.” Joyce gave me a worn-out look. Then she let out some air and sat down at the table, staring at the wall as she continued talking. “Did you know she and Milton did time in jail?”

  I glanced at Joyce, and then I di
d a double-take. “Say what? No. She told you that?”

  “Uh-huh. That’s where Milton met Willie Frank.”

  “Hmmm. What did they do?”

  “She didn’t say and I didn’t ask.”

  “Well, whatever it was, it couldn’t have been too bad if they already out of jail.”

  “That’s what I thought. Anyway, she said a few things I didn’t like.”

  I leaned against the stove. “Again? What was it this time?”

  “She was down in the dumps about not having her kids with her, and I think I said the wrong thing about it and upset her even more.” Joyce told me some of the things she’d said to Yvonne.

  “Them comments would have upset anybody.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. But then she made a remark about my size.”

  “Listen,” I said, pulling out a chair at the table. I sat down and gave her a stern look. “You and Yvonne need to start acting your age. If y’all keep saying stupid shit to one another, sooner or later, one of y’all is going to say something so bad it’ll ruin your friendship.”

  “That might have already happened. I told her you wouldn’t want your children being around her and Milton.”

  My children? I gawked at Joyce like she had just sprouted a mustache. My heart started beating so fast and hard, I thought it was going to beat me into a coma. I swallowed some air and gave her a curious look. There was only one thought on my mind and it chilled me to the bone. Good God! Had she found out about Betty Jean and the boys? If so, why had she not said something before now? My heart calmed down when I told myself that I was letting my imagination run away with me. There was no way in the world I’d still be in one piece if Joyce knew my secret. “What children?”

  “The ones I hope we have someday,” she said, rolling her neck. She let out a chuckle and pinched my hand, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief. “I only said what I said because she’d made another crack about my size.”

  “Oh,” I mumbled. “Children is a real touchy subject with some folks. Especially you women.”