“I hope we stay lucky. Poor Yvonne. I really pity her. Last night I saw a side of her I never expected to see. She didn’t come out and say it, but something tells me that one of her regular guests is depression. It was bad enough she had to drop out of school and do odd jobs to make ends meet, she had to give up her babies, too. After all that, she ends up working in a dingy restaurant. Oh well. At least she’s still got her looks, good health, and a husband. The poor little thing.”
“Sweetie, don’t feel sorry for her. Pity ain’t never helped nobody feel better. Just be a good friend to her and I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Why don’t you take her shopping with you next time you go? Or treat her to supper at Mosella’s or any other restaurant she want to go to. Maybe you should introduce her to some of your friends from the school.”
“Uh . . . I don’t know about that. I mean, I really like to keep my work and my personal life separate. I don’t think any of the folks I work with would be interested in socializing with bootleggers. I would die of shame if the police cracked down on Yvonne and Milton while we were on the premises and hauled us to jail.”
Odell laughed. “I wouldn’t worry about that happening. Them laws don’t give two hoots about what colored people do out here as long as we ain’t raping no white women.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll be friends with Yvonne. But I think I should feed her with a long-handled spoon, just in case. . . .”
“Just in case what?”
“We don’t know them that well yet, so we don’t know what kind of people they really are. Most of the bootleggers have shady backgrounds. Some have even been in prison. Remember that Jones man that used to run a house out by the cemetery? He’s in prison now for shooting a man to death one night during a card game in his house.”
“I doubt if Yvonne or Milton got enough gumption to kill somebody.” Odell laughed again. “They both stupid as hell and ain’t got a lick of class, but they ain’t got a murderous bone in their bodies.”
Chapter 32
Odell
THINGS MOVED REAL FAST BETWEEN ME AND JOYCE AND OUR NEW neighbors. Yvonne and Milton didn’t waste no time squeezing themselves into our lives. They were already acting like they were our best friends. We had told them on the first night we visited them that we’d like to have them over for a meal one evening soon. Before we could tell them what day, they showed up at our door unannounced the following Monday evening around six. “I hope we ain’t too late for supper!” Milton whooped, looking over my shoulder with his eyes bugged out.
“Whatever Joyce is cooking sure do smell good. I could smell it all the way outside!” Yvonne squealed as I waved them in. They both had on the plain gray uniforms they wore to work, and house shoes so shabby they’d have been better off barefoot. Joyce was in the kitchen getting supper ready.
“Um, we didn’t know y’all was coming.” I smiled even though I was annoyed. I thought it was real rude of them to just show up for dinner without an invitation.
“We didn’t feel like entertaining a bunch of drunks tonight, so we thought we’d come hang out with y’all for a few hours,” Yvonne chirped.
A few hours? “A few hours,” I gulped.
“Well, just one or two. We don’t want to wear out our welcome too soon,” Milton responded, clapping me on my back.
I felt a knot swelling in my stomach. I was not in the mood to entertain company tonight. It had been a very hectic day for me and I had spent a lot of energy on Betty Jean yesterday, so I was tired, too.
I had planned on a quiet evening at home with my wife listening to the radio. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell them to come back some other night, but I couldn’t fix my lips to say that. Especially since they’d already shown us so much hospitality. “Joyce, we got company! You need to set two more plates!”
“All right, Odell. Is that Mama and Daddy?” she yelled back.
“No, it ain’t them, baby. Um . . . it’s Yvonne and Milton.” Within seconds, Joyce trotted into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron. There was a puzzled expression on her face. I gave her a weary look and shrugged.
“I was going to ask y’all to eat with us this coming Thursday after I go to the market to pick up a few things. We’re having leftover pigtails and turnip greens this evening,” Joyce said. And being the gracious woman she was, she spoke with the most apologetic look I ever seen on her face.
“Pigtails and turnip greens is my favorite meal. Oooh wee,” Yvonne yipped, sniffing and grinning.
They didn’t wait for us to ask them to sit down. They casually strolled over to the couch and made themselves comfortable, and immediately started looking around the room. “Y’all sure got a nice place,” Milton noticed. “We been itching to see the inside of this house.”
“Sure enough,” Yvonne agreed. “We would have come over before now, but we been so busy getting settled and folks been coming and going like crazy.”
“Well, I’m glad y’all finally made it over here,” I said, clearing my throat.
“I ain’t never been in no colored folks’ house that was this neat and coordinated. If I didn’t know no better, I’d swear white folks lived up in here,” Yvonne hooted. “Y’all got it made in the shade. Joyce, where you get them curtains from and how much did they cost?”
“They were free. My mother made them for us,” Joyce announced proudly. “She and Daddy bought some our furniture, too.”
“Humph. Y’all doing better than I
