Page 7 of Leave It to Us
LANA
“I’m not going back there,” Lana said thirty minutes later, when they’d traded Robyn Crawford’s office for a booth at Rabe’s, a corner bar masquerading as a soul food restaurant, where Tami had insisted they stop to eat and discuss their newfound dilemma. “This isn’t some Hallmark movie where we all pack up and go down south to save the family home. I have a real life right here in Boston. I don’t have time to be fulfilling someone else’s quirky last demands.”
“Even if that someone is your grandmother?” Tami shook her head. “Don’t answer that, because I already know what you’re gonna say. And whatever, I’m going down there to do what she asked.” Tami hummed as she perused the menu without a care in the world—or rather, without a care for what anybody wanted besides herself. “I always loved it there. Ohhhh, hush puppies. I haven’t had those in forever. Remember, Grandma Betty used to make them on Friday nights with fried catfish, and we’d burn our fingers grabbing them off that plate as soon as she scooped them outta the grease?” Tami let out a blissful sigh.
“Mama used to make them too,” Yvonne added as she reluctantly looked at the menu.
Tami frowned. “Hers weren’t as good as Grandma Betty’s.”
“Well, everybody cooks things differently, Tam,” Yvonne replied without bothering to look up at her sister.
“I know,” Tami chirped. “Some people cook better than others. And some people don’t cook at all.” Her gaze immediately landed on Lana, who refused to look at that menu and was running her finger along the rim of the water glass in front of her.
She’d resisted the urge to grab the napkin and wipe the glass, because she didn’t want to hear any of her sisters’ smart remarks about her being a germaphobe. “I don’t need to cook when there are perfectly good meal services here in the city that keep me and my husband well fed,” she replied, and reminded herself to pay that bill when she got home—that one and all the others, since managing the household finances had always been her job. Isaac made the higher, steady salary between them, and after they’d moved in together, he’d suggested she quit her job at the magazine where she’d been photo editor to focus on her own photography career. Elated by his unwavering support, she’d hopped on that opportunity, and after a year of focusing on building her portfolio, she had booked her first small showing at a local gallery.
“And that’s the most important thing, right?” Tami asked. “To make sure you and Isaac stay on top of the world, living your high-class lives and looking down on everyone else?”
“What are you even talking about? This isn’t about Isaac and me. It’s about what’s feasible for our schedules. Grandma Betty always did that.” Lana sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “She used to call Mama late Thursday night to tell her to have us in Hilton Head in time to board the last ferry over to the island on Friday. And it was never a question of whether that was feasible or not. She said it and she meant it.”
“And Mama did it,” Lana continued with a huff. “That will always baffle me, since Mama didn’t even like her.”
“I don’t think it was so much that Mama didn’t like her but that she thought Grandma Betty was a little weird,” Yvonne said.
“She wasa lotweird,” Lana countered, sending a curt glance to Yvonne, who was now sliding the black-framed glasses she’d put on to read the menu off her face. “Remember that time she had us participate in a séance? Tami didn’t sleep in her own bed for the rest of the year, and Mama was livid.”
“Yeah,” Tami said with a slow nod. “All Mama kept saying when we got home was that Black folk don’t play well with the dead. That might’ve been the only time Mama and I agreed on something.”
Yvonne sighed. “You were six,” she said to Tami. “Big Bird scared you when your class went to seeSesame Street Live!”
Tami wrinkled her nose. “And I still don’t like birds.”
After a heavy sigh, Lana continued. “My point is, why are we even considering this? It’s ridiculous and intrusive. We have lives too; Grandma Betty never did appreciate that, with the way she used to fuss when we stopped coming down there for the summer and then insisted that every Thanksgiving we spend Wednesday through Sunday with her. She was so bossy.” But Lana still loved her like she’d never loved another relative, except her father. The woman could work her nerves, with her lectures about life hidden in meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Lana loved green beans.
“Maybe she was lonely,” Yvonne said.
“Yeah,” Lana agreed. “That’s what I thought sometimes too. Especially after Daddy died and we stopped going down for the summer. That’s why I never made excuses to get out of the Thanksgiving visits.”
Tami looked around the restaurant. “Where’s our server? I’d like to have something other than this lukewarm water for lunch.”
“But I know you’re not defending her,” Lana said to Yvonne after giving up on trying to appeal to Tami and her wayward attention span. “You were the first one to stop going down for the summer visits.”
“Because I was the first one to go to college. And then, when I finished school, I went straight to work,” Yvonne said.
Tami rolled her eyes. “In the school system, just like Mama. Yeah, we know the story. But you were also off during the summer.”
“I took classes during the summer to get my master’s degree,” Yvonne added, the ever-present irritation in her tone clear. “And for the record, I say we sell both houses as quickly as we can.”
“Thank you!” Lana almost clapped with glee, relieved that somebody was actually on her side for once. “I think we should do the same. Just get it sold, divide up the money, and go on about our business.”
She’d thought about it during their walk down the street to the restaurant. This could possibly be the answer to her current dilemma. If they could sell the house quickly, there was a good chance she could use her portion of the proceeds to pay off Isaac’s debt. Then she could move on to the next steps in growing her career and her family without having to argue with her husband. That was what she wanted, right? To save her marriage and continue with the life she and Isaac had planned? That hadn’t changed, had it?
“I’m going to call Robyn when I get back home and ask her about contesting just the terms that say we have to renovate before selling. It’s such a weird clause, anyway—and really, I don’t understand why Grandma Betty insisted on it. If it’s our property now, we should be able to sell as is, if that’s what we want.” Yvonne paused briefly and shook her head. “Then I’ll check to see what the value of these homes are now. Robyn said the bank might get a million dollars.”
“Hold up,” Tami interjected just as the server appeared. “I’ll have a martini, an order of hush puppies, and a bacon cheeseburger. Cheddar cheese instead of American, and fried onions. No fries because I’m watching my carbs.”
“You do know that hush puppies and the bun from the cheeseburger have carbs, right?” Yvonne asked, her face bunched into a frown as she looked over at Tami. “I’ll have a chef’s salad and a pink lemonade.”
Lana drummed her fingers on the table. How could they think about food at a time like this?Easily,she surmised, since their husbandsweren’t in danger of being beaten to death by a bookie if they didn’t come up with $37,000 in thirty-seven days. Of course, she didn’t know if things were that dire with Isaac. She had no idea who his bookie was. Each time he owed a debt, she would just find the money by selling some prints, finagling this bill or that one to get it resolved. Then she’d give Isaac the money and pray that he did what he was supposed to do with it. But this was a lot more than Isaac had ever owed, and the tone of that text message didn’t seem like there was room for negotiation or a missed due date.
