“You don’t have to worry about Odell. He already told me that even if we never have children, he’ll still love me just the same,” I replied.
“I hope he meant it,” Daddy added. “Nothing completes a marriage like children. Odell ain’t no different from other men, so I know he’s pining away for some children of his own.”
“Daddy, you worry too much,” I teased.
“And you don’t worry enough, girl.”
“Except for not having a baby yet, I don’t have anything to worry about,” I insisted.
“Yeah, you do! And so do everybody else. It just take some folks longer to realize what it is.”
I didn’t give much thought to Daddy’s comment, and by the time he left, I had forgotten all about it.
I refused to worry or let anything else bring me down. My life was so good. I was going to do everything I could to keep it that way or die trying. . . .
Chapter 25
Odell
June 1938
JOYCE TRUSTED MY JUDGMENT JUST AS MUCH AS HER PARENTS AND had decided right after we got married that I should be the one to handle all our finances. She got paid every other Friday, kept only what she needed out of her paycheck, and gave the rest to me. I was one of the few people who still had faith in the banks, so I maintained a savings and checking account. Joyce’s name was on both accounts, but since I paid all the bills and took out money when we needed it, she never checked on the balance or anything else.
Even though my wife was a very humble woman and always agreeable, I didn’t take that for granted. One thing I had learned over the years was that life was unpredictable. Joyce was still human, so I knew that no matter how meek she was, she could still do something out of character, if pushed far enough. Other than her finding out about me and Betty Jean, I couldn’t think of nothing else I could do that would make her snap. I couldn’t afford to take no chances and end up unemployed, back at that boardinghouse, or worse. That was why I’d opened a secret bank account so I’d have something to fall back on in case things fell apart. It was a necessary move on my part because I had a lot more responsibilities now. I finally had the “several” children I’d always wanted.
But not with Joyce.
Betty Jean had given birth to our third son last year, three days after Labor Day. I supported her in every way, especially financially. She still lived with her sister, but she had stopped working after the birth of our second son. I was happy about that because I wanted her to spend as much time as possible with the boys. Our oldest, three-year-old Daniel, resembled me so much we could almost pass for twins. Two-year-old Jesse and nine-month-old Leon looked more like Betty Jean.
“Y’all have any more babies, we’ll have to move into a bigger house,” Alline told us five minutes after I walked into the house this particular Sunday morning. I liked Alline and couldn’t understand why a beautiful woman like her, with men coming on to her every day, was still unmarried. If and when she decided she didn’t want Betty Jean and the children to continue living with her, I’d have to make some drastic changes. Even though Betty Jean and the boys had to share the same bed (me and her slept on a pallet when I visited), Alline had assured me that her baby sister and children could live with her as long as they wanted to. That was fine with me because I didn’t want to start paying out any more money than I already was.
When Alline broke the news this morning that she was going to marry some joker she’d been seeing for a couple of years and move him into the house, Betty Jean told me that she couldn’t stand the man and that I needed to find a place for her and our children. I had saved quite a bit over the years, so it was not going to be too much of a hardship on me. But she was so persistent, I went out and found a place for her three hours after Alline had announced that she was going to get married.
Betty Jean wasn’t too happy about my choice, though. For one thing, the house was near a swamp, so she’d have to deal with snakes and other creatures. It had only two bedrooms, the toilet was outside, and she would have to get all her water from a nearby spring.
“For ten dollars a month rent, you could have found a much better place,” she whined.
“Baby, it was the best I could do on such short notice,” I explained. “I’ll keep looking until I find something better. In the meantime, it’ll have to do for now.”
Betty Jean and the children stayed in the first house only six months. In December, I found one in a much nicer neighborhood with three bedrooms and indoor plumbing. It was close to the two elementary schools for colored kids in Hartville, so when our boys got old enough to attend, they could walk. This was a blessing. There wasn’t no school buses for colored kids and some lived four and five miles away, and had to walk. It was no wonder so many of us dropped out
