“Of course, Mom.” Susan Neuhaus said from the kitchen. She came into the dining room and set a tray of cookies and coffee on the table.
“Grandma, you’ve always lived in Portland, right?” Mitzy asked.
“Well, yes. My mother was born here even. But you knew that.” Pearl dipped her butter cookie into her coffee and nibbled it.
“Do you remember Do-Good Dotty?” Mitzy asked, picking the coarse sugar off of her butter cookie and crunching them, one by one.
Pearl didn’t answer right away. “That is such a familiar name, honey. Who was it?”
“She was Mayor in the late forties…Mayor Dorothy Lee?” Mitzy said.
“That was a long time ago. Let me think for a moment.” Pearl had another cookie. “Do Good Dotty. No, no. I remember now. At the time we were trying desperately to fund some such thing. Susan, what was it that the ladies and I were trying to fund?”
“In the late forties mom? I wasn’t born yet.” Susan called from the kitchen.
“Oh no, I suppose you weren’t. But your brother was a baby at the time. And we were trying to fund a new homeless shelter, I think. Something for our side of town. Let’s see…there was a big problem and the Mayor got involved. Isn’t that the way though? We elect them to run the city and they do everything they can to get in our way.” Pearl paused and took a drink of tea. She set the cup down and added another spoon of sugar.
“So the Mayor was getting in the way of your plans?” Mitzy asked. “You’d think the Mayor would have wanted a shelter in town.” Mitzy added another spoon of sugar to her tea as well.
“I would say she interfered. I remember it all now. Oh it was aggravating. We had a regular bingo night for just years. But we raised the price and were going to use the funds for the shelter. Mayor Lee shut us down. She actually made quite a to-do over it, had news reporters and police there. I haven’t thought about it in ages. She did that kind of thing though. We didn’t keep her in office for very long.”
“Was your church putting on the bingo games?” Mitzy asked, thinking of the list of churches in her wooden box.
“Yes, we were the Ladies Mission Aid Society and we always used the money for foreign missions. It wasn’t until we wanted to do the shelter and raised the price to play that anyone cared.” Pearl shook her head.
“What a waste. We still don’t have a homeless shelter on this side of town.” Mitzy shook her head too, a motion very like her grandmother’s who had been known in her day to be every bit as persuasive and successful as Mitzy.
“It was probably the only time you failed at something, Mom,” Susan said.
“It was the only time anyone cared whether you used a game like bingo or selling raffle tickets or whathaveyou to raise money. That Mayor talked a lot of nonsense, but then they all do, don’t they?” Pearl said with a shake of her head.
“I suppose they do.” Susan agreed. She set a stack of plates on the table and went back into the kitchen.
“Did Do-Good Dotty do anything worthwhile while she was in office?” Mitzy asked, setting the plates around the table.
“Not that I ever heard of. Supposedly corruption and graft were eliminated, but if so only for the years she was in office. I’m sure everyone takes their cut now just like they always have.” Pearl said. She stood up with the tray to take it to the kitchen.
“Sit down Grandma, let me.” Mitzy said.
Pearl batted her away with small white hand and carried the tray to Susan.
“Were you always this cynical, Grandma?” Mitzy asked.
“I should say so. I’ve paid attention all these years.” Pearl said.
Brett, Mitzy’s older brother joined them at the table. “I hear you’ve got trouble with the City Council now, Mitzy,” he said.
“Yes, at the moment we do have a little trouble. But I think we can handle it. Want to come to a town hall meeting tomorrow night about the new East Side tram?”
“Nope,” he said.
“You’d be good to have on our side.” Mitzy wheedled.
“I’m sure I would but Aerin would prefer I stay out of it.” Brett said, looking over his shoulder at his wife who was watching TV in the other room.
“Does she even know what the tram trouble is?” Mitzy felt the heat rising to her cheeks. She slammed the silverware down next to the plates as she set the table.
“Nope.”
“Then how does she know she wants you out of it?” Mitzy demanded.
“I know because you are up to something and that alone is enough for her to want me to keep out” Brett said. He tapped a teaspoon on the side of his plate.
“I see. So whatever I’m up to she doesn’t want any part of?” Mitzy asked, slamming the last knife next to the last plate.
“Yup. The museum lost a lot of money after you got involved.” Bret said.
“Elaborate,” Pearl demanded.
“Auction. Items stolen. Items found. Items relinquished to Russian government. Money refunded from said items. Insurance rates increased. Good ole’ boys from the Good Ole Party quit donating money when Museum gives up pricey items to the communists.” Brett summarized.
“Communists?” Pearl said, leaning back in her chair.
“Well, Russians then. But it’s all the same to some people.” Brett said with a grin.
“This was the thing we heard about on the news last spring?” Pearl asked.
“Yes Grandma, it was. And frankly, you all are lucky Aerin agreed to let us come to dinner tonight.” Brett said.
“You exaggerate.” Pearl responded.
“We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, Gran,” Brett said, patting his grandma on the shoulder. He wandered out again to watch football with his dad.
“So no brotherly support then, darling,” Pearl said. “But I think you’ll do fine on your own. You always do.”
“It’s very handy to have a lawyer on your side when it comes to this government business. Even if you don’t need one.” Mitzy stood up and looked out the window.
“You’ll have your young man helping you though, I think.” Pearl said, with a knowing smile.
“Yes. I think so too.” Mitzy said.
“And he’ll be at dinner tonight?” Pearl asked.
“Of course. You’ll get to see him again.” Mitzy turned to Grandma and smiled, her cheeks blushing pink. It felt nice to have someone to bring to family dinners.
“That’s good. He seems like a nice man.” Grandma nodded as she spoke.
Mitzy smiled, thinking of his heavy brows pulled down in anger, and the way he ruined his hair scruffing at it in frustration. He had the ability to make the most confident man shrink to nothing at a word. He wasn’t exactly nice. But he was working on it.
Dinner had gone well, if you didn’t count Aerin’s complete silence. And two men pouting because the Seahawks had lost.
“Great roast Susan,” Alonzo said, digging into his second serving.
“Yeah mom, it’s great,” Mitzy said.
“Things at the Hud are going well,” Alonzo said.
“That’s right!” Susan said. “You have the project in Gresham that you are working on.”
“It’s not quite in Gresham, Mom. Huddington incorporated. This is their first big project as their own entity.” Mitzy said.
“I see. But its right there by the Wal-Mart, isn’t it? I mean, that is still Gresham, right?” Susan asked.
“Yes, the Wal-Mart is in Gresham. But Huddington will have its own address.” Alonzo said.
“Why on earth?” Susan asked, taking a drink of her coffee.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mitzy said, giving up.
“They were right there on the cusp of the Rockwood neighborhood and the city of Gresham. Gresham wouldn’t annex them and the neighborhood didn’t want to be part of Rockwood,” Alonzo said. “It’s a PR move.”
“What’s wrong with Rockwood?” Grandma Pearl asked. “You were born at the hospital in Rockwood, Susan.”
“It�
��s gone down hill, mom,” Susan said, shaking her head.
Aerin sighed heavily and looked at her watch. She pushed her gravy soaked meat around with her fork.
“Well Aerin, what do you think about Huddington?” Grandma Pearl asked.
“I don’t see that it matters what I think. It’s in EastCounty.” Aerin pursed her lips in distaste.
Grandma Pearl nodded. “Oh that’s right. You are from California, aren’t you?”
Aerin sighed again. “Yes,” she said.
“And you, Alonzo?” Grandma Pearl asked, “You’re Mexican, are you from California as well?”
Alonzo coughed into his fist and shook his head. “I’m Italian, Grandma. But I was born in Oregon. And my parents were too.”
“Oh? Really? I thought you were a Mexican. Which would have been fine dear, I like Mexicans,” Grandma said, taking a dainty bite of salad.
“Yup, Grandma, you are quite liberal minded,” Brett said with a chuckle. “Not like our Mitzy. She hates Russians.” Brett smirked.
“Oh dear. Hate is such a terrible feeling. What makes you hate Russians Mitzy?” Grandma asked.
“I don’t hate Russians Grandma. Brett is being juvenile,” Mitzy said with a frown for her brother.
“That’s right,” Aerin said, breaking her silence. “Mitzy doesn’t hate Russians. She hates museums.”
“I don’t hate museums,” Mitzy said. “I hate childishness.”
“You never do anything childish, right Mitzy? Thinking you can take down the city council isn’t at all childish,” Brett said.
“Hey now,” Alonzo said, putting his fork down and turning to Brett. “Slow down, buddy.”
“I’m sure she’s a worthy foe, but one Realtor against the forces of the leaders of the city, who all have the best interest of the community in mind?” Brett said.
“That’s not the song you were singing last spring. Oh that’s right…you got your own man on the City Council now to take the spot the Mayor used to have,” Mitzy said.
“That’s right. All it takes is one good solid, conservative thinker to slow things down and then City Council doesn’t look so bad,” Brett said.
Aerin coughed.
“Then ask him to slow down this tram nonsense,” Mitzy said.
“As far as I know, he likes it. And if he likes it its okay with me,” Brett said, taking a bite of dinner.
Aerin spoke up, “Despite the unfortunate conservative bent of your darling brother, he is right about the tram. There is just no point in fighting a good thing. Especially if you really don’t know what you are talking about.”
“That’s enough,” Alonzo said. He pressed down on the dining room table with the palms of his hands, about to stand. “Mitzy knows this city inside and out. She knows what the people here want better than anyone I’ve ever met. You can drop this subject now.”
Aerin opened her mouth to speak again, but Susan interrupted her. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you kids tonight. We’ve got grandma here from Bend, and all you can do is bicker. I do wish you’d be nice to each other.”
“These kids are forty years old,” Alonzo muttered.
“Why don’t you bring out the ice-cream, hon?” Mitzy’s dad said, by way of changing the subject. “Everyone likes ice-cream, right?”
“Ice-cream does sound nice,” Grandma said.
Mitzy’s cell phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. She fumbled around for it, confused for a moment. She pulled it from the right pocket and turned away from the table.
“Mitzy Neuhaus?” she said. “They’ve accepted it?” she asked the caller. “Well they had better. They offered more than that house was ever worth. Up to the bank now though, isn’t it?”
“There goes that famous charm,” Aerin said. “Winning friends and influencing people.”
Mitzy put hand over her ear and left the table.
“We get it Aerin. You don’t like Mitzy,” Brett said, looking bored.
“Excuse me darling?” Aerin asked, drawing out the word darling and scowling at Brett.
“Nothing,” Brett said.
“I don’t think it was nothing,” Aerin said.
“I think we’ve moved on from making fun of Mitzy.” Brett said. “We’re talking about ice-cream now.”
“Never mind ice cream. Let’s go home. Give grandma a kiss.” Aerin stood up and walked out of the dining room.
“I get the impression something is bothering Aerin,” Alonzo said rolling his eyes.
Brett shook his head and followed his wife out of the room.
Mitzy passed him in the doorway, scooching up the wall as he passed through. “Yes I’d say something is bothering her. Apparently we’re responsible for her museum hitting hard times.” She said.
“We probably are,” Alonzo said in a dismissive voice.
“Absolutely. We are the small-minded funders who pulled out. And we’re the government of Russia requiring the return of the museum’s jewels.” She picked up her glass and took one last drink of ice water. “Excuse me everyone. I need to get back to the office and check out an offer.”
Alonzo leaned close and spoke in Mitzy’s ear. “Don’t be mad at me. I said you are fantastic.”
“That made a huge difference,” Mitzy said. She slipped out of the dining room and grabbed her purse. Alonzo caught up with her at the door.
“Okay then. Be mad at me, it makes perfect sense since I have so much control over what Brett and Aerin do. Where are you going after the office?” Alonzo asked.
“Home,” Mitzy said. She grabbed her purse and went back into the kitchen to say goodbye to her mother.
Grandma Pearl was in the kitchen helping scoop the ice cream. She squeezed Mitzy’s hand. “I like that Alonzo. But if he is too much work, cut him loose. You don’t need to work hard to be loved. You are lovely the way you are.”
Tears started in Mitzy’s eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Alonzo had been standing behind grandma as she spoke to Mitzy. He leaned over and gave the tiny woman a hug. “It’s all right Grandma. I do love her just the way she is,” he said.
Grandma Pearl pushed him to arms length, “See that you do. She’s waited long enough for love. She doesn’t need a difficult husband.”
Alonzo walked with Mitzy outside. He stopped on the porch.
“I am difficult you know,” he said.
“I’ve noticed.” Mitzy said.
“It’s who I am. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
“Okay,” Mitzy said.
Alonzo stopped and looked Mitzy in the eyes, “I love you.”
She sighed and looked away. “I’m really mad right now. At Brett for not being on my side in this tram thing. At Aerin for never being on my side. I’m just really mad right now and I can’t think about anything else.”
“I see.”
Alonzo walked again.
Mitzy hurried to catch up with him. “I’m sorry. I love you too, Alonzo. I guess we’re both difficult.”
“But we’re working on it.” He kissed her until she pulled away a little, smiling. Then he opened her car door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next night Alonzo, Mitzy, Carmella, and two others sat in the meeting room for the town hall discussion on plans for Baltimore Street.
“We are so glad to have you all here.” A rotund, middle aged councilman who introduced himself as Martin said. He did look pleased. Mitzy thought it was a pity that the five of them counted as a successful town hall.
“We want to talk with you guys about the fantastic plans for the new light rail, or tram, If you will,” Martin said. “We know how long you all on the East side have been waiting for this connecting line. I think you will really get excited about our plans once you understand them. But first let’s introduce ourselves. Again, I’m Martin and I’m on your city council. I work mainly with transportation issues.” He indicated Alonzo next.
“Alonzo Miramontes of Miramontes Construction,” he said. “I
own the property at the end of the street.”
“Mitzy Neuhaus of Neuhaus New Homes. I’m the owner of two homes on Baltimore.”
“Carmella Marquez. I live on Baltimore Street.”
Next to Carmella was an older lady, about 80. She leaned her elbow on her walker as she spoke, a remarkably energetic figure for her age. “I am Enid and I own 4051 Baltimore. I’ve owned it for 52 years. I bought it when it was just 5 years old. I raised my kids there. What do you intend to do to my street?” She glared at him.
“Ah, ha, ha. Just wait till you hear. I think you’re going to love it,” Martin said.
“I doubt it.”
“I’m Frida, Enid is my mom. I drove her here today,” the lady sitting beside Enid said. She patted her mother’s shoulder as she spoke.
“Let me show you the plans, before you make any judgments.” He clicked a button on a small computer and a dim image appeared on the screen behind him. “Can we turn down the lights?” He said with a chuckle. But no one got up to do it. “Okay. Well then. You can see in addition to the tram we’ve got it landscaped with a new greenway in the center. We’re required to add a certain amount of green space every time we build. But I’m sure you know all about that,” he said with a nod to Alonzo.
“Yes,” Alonzo said. “It’s a city council ordinance.”
Martin laughed awkwardly again. “That’s right. It sure is. So clearly I had no excuse not to do it. Well you will see, right there,” he motioned with a laser pointer, “that we have the required amount of green space. And over there,” he jumped the laser light to the far corner, “is a sort of community gathering place. There’s nothing like that in the neighborhood at this time, is there?”
The image was dim enough that it could have been anything in the corner so Carmella asked, thinking of Diego Jr. “Is that a playground or a baseball pitch or something?”
“Ah, ha, ha,” Martin said, his smile dimmer, “No, more of a community courtyard. Sort of greener that way, light colored stone instead of dark asphalt and no grass to water. Some, um, native plantings and things. Benches. For gathering.”
Carmella sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, shoulders drawn up to her chin. “I see,” she said.
Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 02 - Eminent Domain Page 9
