“Well, Lloyd,” I said, my heart filled with gratitude for this fine boy, “you’ve certainly given it a lot of thought, but thank goodness you will never be reduced to such circumstances. I am so proud, though, that you have such a great sense of your own worth and dignity. Your willingness to work and do what you have to do to get what you want is more than admirable, it’s outstanding.”
He smiled and shrugged. “I just figure that if I kept my grades up and got out of high school on my own, I’d get a scholarship—it wouldn’t matter where, just a college somewhere. That way I’d be living in a dormitory, and my worries would be over.”
“Oh, darling boy, your worries are already over.” Lloyd’s share of his father’s estate made sure of that.
“Yes’m, I guess, but I have been thinking of people who don’t have what I have, including not one bed, but two.” And he grinned at the thought of his two homes, his mother’s and mine. “I’m pretty lucky.”
Yes, he was, but he was also a planner and a worker, and even without a wealthy, though deceased, father, I was convinced that he would’ve gone far entirely on his own.
“Anyway,” he went on, “I’ve been wondering if we ought to help those boys who don’t have what we have. I mean, I know J.D. and Mama don’t want them next door, and I know you’re concerned about it, too. But aren’t we supposed to help those who can’t help themselves?”
Oh, Lord, I thought, out of the mouths of babes.
“Yes, Lloyd, we should, and we should do it with a cheerful heart. The problem with this situation, though, is the way they’re going about it and the damage they’re doing in the process of doing good.” And I went on to explain the sneaky, underhanded way the Homes for Teens group was trying to go around the laws, how they had publicly announced that the neighbors had no problem with them—when, in fact, the neighbors were up in arms—how his mother and father were concerned about that number of troubled boys so close to his sisters, and the fears of the mother of the early developer on the other side. Then I showed him the calculator with the breathtaking number of dollars that his mother’s house would be devalued with such an unsavory next-door neighbor.
“Wow,” he said. “I guess I didn’t think it through enough. I sure don’t want my sisters in any danger, and I don’t want Mama and J.D. hurt in any way. Boy, there’re always two sides to everything, aren’t there?”
“Indeed, there are. The problem in a situation like this is that most people see only the good side. They either don’t know or don’t care if anybody else gets hurt. But,” I went on, “I’ll tell you this, Lloyd, if those people who’re so intent on opening a group home would listen to reason and move to a more suitable place, I would support them to the utmost degree. As it stands now, though, they’re determined to have their way, regardless.” Then I said, “I hope that you won’t think the less of me when I tell you that I aim to do whatever I can to foil the plans of those one-track-minded people who’re leaving havoc in their wake.”
“No’m,” he said, “I won’t. And now that I see the other side, I understand why J.D.’s putting up such a big fence. He’d like to run them off, wouldn’t he?”
“Well, let’s just say that he’d like to discourage them from ruining the neighborhood—because his is not the only property that’ll be adversely affected.”
—
“Oh, my goodness,” I said after a quick glance at the calendar I kept by the telephone. It was the following morning, and I’d just entered the kitchen for breakfast. “I’d forgotten the coffee that Sue Hargrove is having this morning.”
“She a nice lady,” Lillian said, ready as always with a complimentary comment. It was only when she had nothing good to say that she said nothing. “An’ everybody like her husband.”
“Yes, we’re fortunate to have such a good doctor in town. But I could do without a social occasion this morning. Now I’ll have to go back upstairs and dress for it.” I sat at the table, wondering if I was up for chitchat on a day when the Pickens situation was weighing so heavily on my mind. “Thank you, Lillian,” I said as she put a plate of bacon and eggs before me. “Has Lloyd eaten yet? I didn’t hear him upstairs.”
“He already eat an’ already gone to school to do that tutorin’ he’s doin’.” Lillian opened the dishwasher door, then turned to look at me. “Miss Julia, you know any Pruitts?”
“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. The name’s familiar, though. There might be some out in the county. Why?”
“That’s who Lloyd’s tutorin’. He asked me if I know the fam’ly. I don’t, but I know of ’em—hardscrabble folks, mostly.”
Glancing at my watch, I quickly pushed back from the table. “Oh, my goodness, it’s later than I thought. I declare, Lillian, I’m beginning to think I need a keeper.”
I hurried upstairs to dress again, wondering how I would be able
