“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 did 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
