Never Too Soon

TWO

TWOAnaya drove down the street she had lived on her entire life. The neighborhood had developed during the zeitgeist of white picket fences and bungalow porches. Her mom had taken great care in keeping the house and yard impeccable and since her death, her dad Roscoe accepted the responsibility. The yard was still one of the best maintained on the block, secure behind the white picket fence her mom had loved.

She pulled into the driveway and saw her dad, Uncle Allen, and Uncle Riley sitting on the porch. Riley and her father smiled at her, but Allen seemed to barely notice she was there. I hope it’s not Aunt Marie again.

“Hi, Daddy,” Anaya called stepping out of her car and slinging a drawstring bag across her back. She walked over and gave him a hug. “Hey, Uncle Allen, Uncle Riley.”

“Hi there, baby girl.” Roscoe looked up and shielded his eyes from the sun.

“Hey, niecey,” Uncle Riley said. Uncle Allen nodded and accepted her hug.

“Did you beat Carl around the lake again?” Roscoe’s laugh sounded like gurgling water.

“Yep. Sailed past him like a champ.”

“Don’t show him up too bad,” Roscoe joked. “He might not like that.”

“Point taken.” Anaya pointed a finger at her dad.

“You’re looking more like your mama every day,” Riley said.

“Thank you,” she replied. It was a familiar compliment, but she still liked hearing it.

“Your mama was a beautiful woman. She was smart too,” Roscoe said, looking over the yard.

“Yes, she was,” Riley agreed.

“What are you guys up to?” Anaya asked.

Allen finally smiled and looked up at her. “Ah, just hanging out. We were supposed to go play a few holes, but your daddy got here late. Been at that nursery again.” Allen laughed.

“We can still make it,” Roscoe said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding Anaya’s gaze. “We just got caught up talking.”

She didn’t know what Allen was teasing her dad about, but she smiled. She was glad her dad had the yard and her uncles to keep him busy.

“Well, you guys have fun,” Anaya said as she headed into the house.

The interior of the Goode house looked exactly the same as when Anaya was growing up. The brown leather sofa still faced the fireplace at an awkward angle, the rubber fig plant, browning at the edges, overwhelmed the corner near the kitchen, and the wobbly leg on the coffee table was a constant reminder of cousin Marguerite’s fall while trying to perform a dance move to prove to Aunt Deb that her size 18 frame didn’t keep her from doing anything a size 8 could do. The house was full of memories—family spats, holidays past, a Warriors-Lakers divide, parental tirades. But as much as the Goode house appeared to be the same, the people who lived inside had changed drastically over the years.

Anaya headed upstairs and settled into her home office, formerly her brother Andrew’s room. When he was tragically killed just before she started college, Anaya had decided to be a commuter student so she could support her parents and sister. Then her mom died right before Anaya started her master’s program, and again, thinking her dad and sister needed her, she stayed home. Now almost thirty, she had never lived on her own.

Anaya shrugged off the familiar twinge of disappointment. By staying at home, she had been able to save her money and could now afford to buy almost any house she wanted in the competitive Bay Area housing market. She always used that reminder to ward off feelings of regret.

She looked at her seemingly never-ending list of tasks and decided to start by calling caterers to see which one was available to help with Roscoe’s sixtieth birthday celebration in a few weeks. Next, she added a reminder to Monday’s to-do list to look into an internship with the County’s health department for her cousin Amber. She skipped over the job of finding a financial planner for Aunt Deb by editing cousin Marguerite’s resume. She was starting to regret not going to Carl’s house.

Her cell rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sister dear.”

“Hey, Ava. What’s up?” Anaya rubbed her chest, feeling a twinge of heartburn. She popped two Zantacs before leaning back in her chair.

“Not much. Blessed and highly favored,” Ava said breathlessly. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Just trying to get some stuff done.” Anaya could hear the boys yelling in the background and imagined the complete chaos of Ava’s house. “Where’s Joe?” She asked the question out of habit. Joe was always at the gym. Joe Carraway was a nice guy and loved Ava and the boys, but he wasn’t always helpful.

“At the gym.”

“I see,” Anaya said. The fact that going to the gym seemed more important to Joe than finding a job to support his family never made sense to Anaya. Nice pecs don’t pay the bills.

“I wanted to check on you,” Ava said brightly.

Anaya was immediately suspicious. Ava was never overly concerned about anything except her children, healthy eating habits, cancer awareness, and keeping the Sabbath holy. She wanted something.

“Well, that’s nice of you,” Anaya replied. “I’m fine.”

“You and Daddy getting along?” Ava asked.

That was a silly question. Roscoe was the mildest mannered person they knew, even when he drank, which he hadn’t since their mom died. He was a loving and supportive father. Their getting along had never been an issue.

“Yes, we are,” Anaya said. “How are the boys?”

“Doing great,” Ava gushed. “Jeremiah and Hezekiah are running around pretending to be pirates, and Joshua is in his rocker. I just finished feeding them breakfast.” Ava may not have had a dime to her name, but she didn’t let anything ruin her mood. It was annoyingly refreshing. She and Joe were similar that way. “Joe had an interview yesterday, and I think this job is going to come through.”

“Oh?” Anaya yawned. Joe had gone to more than a dozen interviews in the last two months, and he still didn’t have a job. But Ava was steadfastly optimistic despite Joe’s crop of failed interviews. In Anaya’s opinion, something wasn’t right. Joe wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he should be able to get another job besides being a part-time fitness trainer.

“And he helped his uncle lay carpet the other day, so that check will be coming any day now.” Ava continued as if she were talking to herself. “I know our breakthrough is coming, I can feel it. God is so faithful.”

It was funny how people changed. Growing up, Ava was the corporation-protesting, sustainability-promoting academic, determined to rid the planet of capitalism and carnivorous pleasures. She didn’t like hanging out with friends the way Andrew and Anaya did. She excelled in school, so Anita and Roscoe didn’t worry too much about her lack of social life. They worried even less when she was accepted into all twelve of the colleges she applied to.

When their mom died, Ava deferred college for a year, during which time she found herself most comfortable at a local church. That’s when her focus shifted to being “saved.” Then she met and married Joe and morphed into a baby-toting, scripture-quoting, tofu-eating career student who couldn’t keep a job or the required minimum balance in her checking account. Ava still believed in fighting the good fight but now she did so between pregnancies, Boy Scout meetings, and church auxiliaries. Their family lived off of Joe’s meager earnings as a trainer—the only job he could hold—and Ava’s part-time job. Joe and Ava earned enough money to pay the bills and very little else.

“What’s the interview for?” Anaya started re-reading cousin Marguerite’s resume.

“It’s for a position at that new credit union downtown. Perfect for Joe!”

Anaya rolled her eyes. “Ava, has Joe worked in finance before?”

“Well, no, but he’s good with numbers.”

“Why did Joe quit his last job again? I thought they paid pretty well.”

“They did, but they wanted him to work on Sundays.”

“So?” Anaya waited for an explanation.

“So? So, we worship on Sundays. He can’t go to work and leave his family to worship alone on the Sabbath. The Bible says, ‘Forsake not the assembly of thineself.’”

Anaya closed her eyes. She would never see eye to eye with her sister on religion. “Can’t you guys go to church a different day, Ava?”

“Ny, you know we attend church on Sundays,” Ava said matter-of-factly. “Which leads to my next question. The boys are outgrowing their shoes and need a few other things. I was wondering if you could loan me some money.”

First of all, asking for money had nothing to do with going to church on Sundays. Second of all, Anaya had loaned Ava two hundred dollars last month. Or was it earlier this month?

“Again? How much, Ava?”

“Six hundred dollars.”

Anaya almost choked on her saliva. “Six hundred dollars! Are you shopping at Gucci?”

“No, silly. I also need to cover a few bills. We are a little short.”

Anaya sighed. This was getting old. “So you guys don’t have any money?”

“If you don’t want to lend me the money, that’s fine. The Bible says, ‘Be of good cheer for I have overcome the world.’ I won’t hold my head down because my husband is seeking better employment. God is on the throne, so I know I will get through this.”

Shut up!

“Ava, nobody asked you to keep your head down. But you need to do more to help yourself. You’re smart. You can get another job.”

Ava worked from home as a reservationist for United Airlines—twenty hours a week for the past five years. She mostly did it for the health benefits. She had considered getting another job when Jeremiah was a baby but found out she was pregnant with Hezekiah before Jeremiah could crawl. And in the spirit of consistency, she followed the same pattern with Joshua. The older boys were in preschool, but Joshua still wasn’t potty trained, so he stayed home with Ava during the day.

“You’re right. I’m smart. I graduated summa c*m laude, remember?”

Yes, I remember. You won’t let me forget. You won’t let anybody forget.

“I remember Ava, but that’s not the point. Faith is fine, but a job is better, don’t you think?”

“I don’t doubt my God.”

Anaya realized she needed to change tactics. “Neither do I, Ava. But faith without work is dead. God is merciful and understanding, but you have to look for a job yourself. God doesn’t do interview and resume skills.”

“I will not worry about my future because God doesn’t give us a fear of worry. If anybody should worry, it should be Aunt Deb because she uses those harsh color chemicals in her hair. You know hair coloring causes cancer, right? And you know all that psychic stuff she’s into is satanic. Aunt Deb needs to go to the altar and pray that stuff off of her. And Aunt Marie? She . . .”

Ava continued her rant until Anaya sighed. “Ava, I have work to do. I will bring the money by in the next few days.”

“Thank you, sister! You know I appreciate you. Hold on a sec, Ny.” Ava’s voice became muffled. “Hezekiah, honey, put that lamp down, you might break it.” The one scripture that Ava never quoted was “spare the rod, spoil the child.”

“Sounds like you need to get back to the boys, Ava. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Wait. How is Carl doing?”

“He’s good.” Cue her speech about marriage and fornication.

“When are you two going to get married? You can’t keep fornicating, Ny, you know that’s not right. The Lord said it’s better to marry than to burn.”

“The Lord didn’t say that, Ava, the apostle Paul said it. And you don’t know if I’m fornicating or not,” Anaya said. “You aren’t in my bedroom.”

“Well thank God for that.” She chuckled. “But I know Carl is a man, and a man isn’t going to go for too long without s*x,” Ava said firmly.

“Why do you always find a way to talk about my s*x life? It’s weird.”

“I’m just trying to help save your soul, sister dear. You better stay woke.”

“Carl and I are taking our time, thanks. We don’t want a bunch of kids running around that we can’t afford.” Anaya cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Crap. Here we go.

“The Bible says to be fruitful and multiply,” Ava replied, overly bright.

“The Bible also says that if a man doesn’t work, he doesn’t eat.” Anaya had prepared her own comebacks to keep up with Ava’s incessant Bible-quoting. If Ava was going to dish it, she should be prepared to swallow it too.

“Spiteful talk, Ny.”

Anaya resisted the urge to throttle her phone and replied calmly, “No. It’s realistic. Don’t criticize my relationship when you and Joe haven’t figured out your lives either.”

There was a pause. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Anaya said slowly, “that I’m writing you checks too often, Ava. I think someone in your house needs to get a job.”

“We have jobs,” Ava said, as if Anaya were missing the point.

“Your jobs are not enough,” Anaya said. “Don’t you want to be able to provide for the boys? They are growing and need things. I don’t mind helping, but I can’t be your supplemental income.”

“I didn’t ask you to be.”

“Not in so many words.”

“Wow. Look at you,” Ava said. For the first time, her tone shifted from bouncy to sharp. “Calling out the splinter in my eye and ignoring the plank in yours.”

Anaya couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You know what, Ava? Maybe I do have a plank in my eye, but you know what else? I can afford it. You can’t get tweezers to pluck the splinter out of your eye without me writing a check for it.”

Ava gasped. “Whoa, somebody’s salty.”

“Nobody’s salty.” Anaya sighed. “Listen, Ava, I really have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And she hung up.

Anaya pushed her chair back from her desk and leaned back with a sigh, waiting for her irritation at Ava to pass. Her gaze floated around the room until it caught on a green A’s hat hooked on the corner of the bookshelf, and she was swept away in a memory of simpler times.

“Give it back!” Anaya yelled, chasing Andrew into the kitchen. He was too quick for her and rounded the island in the kitchen before darting around the breakfast table. As he turned the corner into the living room, his green A’s hat fell onto the floor, and quick as lightning, Anaya snatched it up triumphantly. He reached for it, but she put it behind her back.

“Will you two cut that out?” Anita said from the dining room where she examined swatches in preparation for redoing the laundry room. She stood up to block their path as Anaya ran, squealing, away from Andrew’s outstretched hands.

“Andrew took the remote control. I was watching The Proud Family, and he just snatched it from me!” Anaya yelled, her two pigtails flailing as she tried to escape her brother.

“The Lakers are playing, Ma,” Andrew said. “It’s the fourth quarter. I’ll let her watch TV when it’s over. Her show is all re-runs anyway.”

“You can’t just come into the living room while somebody is watching a show and change the channel without even asking them. It’s rude.” Anaya folded her arms.

“I did ask, and you said no.” Andrew smiled. He was annoying but was still everyone’s favorite. Even when he was being a television hog.

“Well then, you have your answer.”

“Anaya, help me get dinner finished and let your brother watch the game,” Anita said. “It will be over soon. Then you can watch your show.”

“Yes!” Andrew pumped his arm. “Love you, Ma. And Ny, you know you’re my favorite sister.” He blew a kiss across the room, which she ignored.

“You always pick his side, mom,” Anaya whined, following her mom into the kitchen. “Always.”

“I’m not picking sides.” Anita pulled some greens from the refrigerator. “Cut these up.”

Anaya pulled out a cutting board and knife. “But it’s not fair. I finished my homework and my chores before I started watching television. Andrew walks in from practice, probably hasn’t done a lick of homework, and he gets to watch what he wants.”

Anita sighed. “Life isn’t fair, Anaya, and I don’t want to leave this earth with you thinking that it is. You won’t always get your way, and sometimes you have to give, even when you don’t get anything in return. That’s just the way life is.” Anita walked over and held Anaya’s chin in her hand. “You’re strong and can handle more than most people. You understand? If you just do what you are supposed to do and don’t complain, you will always get ahead in life. Some of us are required to do more and you, my dear, are one of those people. You have to be smarter and stronger than other people, but you will be a better person for it.”

Anita kissed Anaya on the forehead and released her chin.

Anaya nodded and turned back to chopping. She didn’t want to be a better person. She wanted to get her way like her siblings always did. It seemed like she was always the one who had to give, and she rarely got anything in return. She had to help her mom cook, do the majority of the chores, and always concede when it came to her siblings. Andrew was the fun favorite and Ava was “sensitive”—whatever that meant. As far as Anaya was concerned, her siblings were spoiled, and being the middle child wasn’t fair.

The back door that led into the mud room next to the kitchen slammed, and Anaya saw her mom straighten her back and take a deep breath. Her daddy stumbled into the kitchen, the scent of alcohol strong on his body. Anaya kept chopping the vegetables, but also watched the familiar scene, a tight knot of worry in her gut.

“Hey, my beautiful wife,” Roscoe sang out. He dropped his lunch bag on the floor and tried to kiss Anita, but she turned her head slightly. He moved to sit at the table but knocked one of the chairs over. Anita started a pot of coffee.

“Hello Roscoe,” Anita said tightly, glancing in Anaya’s direction. Anaya pretended to be focused on the greens. She didn’t want her parents to get divorced, but if Roscoe kept coming home drunk, she didn’t know what her mom would do. Anaya overheard her mom telling Aunt Marie over the phone that she was going to take the kids and move to Atlanta if Roscoe didn’t straighten up. Anaya didn’t know exactly what that meant, but every night, she prayed for Roscoe to straighten up.

“Smells good in here, Nita,” Roscoe stammered. “You was always a good cook. I knew you was gonna make a good wife and mother.” He leaned forward to try to kiss her again and almost fell out of his chair.

“Roscoe, drink this coffee.” She set the cup in front of him. Before he could even reach for it, he closed his eyes and passed out, head down on the kitchen table. Anita sighed. “Anaya, help me get his shoes off and get him into the den before your sister and brother see.”

It wasn’t the first time Anita asked Anaya to help her cover up Roscoe coming home drunk. After Roscoe was snoring on the couch, the phone rang and Andrew yelled, “Anaya, telephone! It’s Sophie!”

“I hate my parents,” Sophie said as soon as Anaya picked up.

“What happened?” Anaya said. She listened to Sophie talk for thirty minutes about her parents missing another one of her dance recitals. There was no point mentioning how her daddy had just passed out. It happened all the time. She was strong. She could handle it. She could handle anything.

The ding of a new email shook Anaya out of the memory, and she twirled her chair to face her computer screen. She squinted when she recognized the sender’s name. Now that’s a blast from the forlorn past.

She couldn’t wait to tell the girls about this at brunch tomorrow.