Over the Fence

by Mary Monroe

  My ears had a hard time listening to what he said next. “Me too. I hate it with a passion. That’s why I never do it. As much as me and Joyce got going for us, can’t nobody accuse us of not being humble.”

  Even with all the things I had on my mind, it turned out to be a fun night. I went out of my way to avoid talking to Odell again, though. But I couldn’t get away from Joyce. About a hour after my conversation with him in the kitchen, I went back to get more hush puppies. Right after I dumped a fresh batch into a bowl, she barged in. She looked distressed.

  “Yvonne, I know it’s none of my business, but do you and Milton plan on letting white women come here often? That Lyla and Emmalou don’t seem like the kind of people you and Milton would want to be friends with.”

  Lyla and Emmalou had come back to our house again tonight and was the life of the party. They was telling jokes that had everybody laughing up a storm, and they was sharing stories about how hard it was to please some of the fussy women that bought hats in Lyla’s store.

  I leaned up against the stove, still holding the bowl. “What’s wrong with them?”

  “Nothing, I guess. But you and I both know that it’s not a good idea to socialize with white women in a place like yours.”

  “I know what you mean, and I done brung that up with Milton. But he reminded me that we ain’t never had no trouble by socializing with Willie Frank’s female kinfolks. Besides, Lyla and Emmalou buy a lot of drinks, and they tip good. That’s more than I can say for some of our guests . . .” I threw out that last remark, hoping she’d take the hint and start tipping more than a nickel for her drinks. “And it’s a sport to watch them dance.”

  “I agree with that. Some folks have two left feet. Lyla’s and Emmalou’s are on backward.” Joyce giggled, and then her voice got serious again. “I’m sure they are nice people, too. My mama buys all her hats at Lyla’s store, and she thinks Lyla and Emmalou are as sweet as pie. She claim they treat her the same way they treat their white customers. But Odell told me he got skittish as soon as he saw them up in here tonight.”

  “What about them white women you and Odell have coming to your house? Do they make him skittish?”

  Joyce sucked on her teeth and folded her arms before she answered. “That’s different. They have spotless reputations and always come with their husbands. On top of that, they spend a whole lot of money at the store.” Joyce leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Buddy and Sadie told me they heard Lyla and Emmalou have been known to crawl into bed with colored men. Nary one of our white female friends would consider going against the Jim Crow laws.”

  “Me and Milton can worry about our white women friends. You and Odell can worry about something else. Like him spending so much time away from you . . .”

  Joyce suddenly perked up and got downright giddy. Her eyes got wide, and she started grinning. “I’m glad you brought that up.” I didn’t know if I’d struck a nerve or if she was about to go into her usual swooning act whenever Odell’s name was mentioned. “Pffft! That doesn’t bother me. God couldn’t have sent me a better husband. Odell is so sweet and considerate, and more concerned about his loved ones than himself. I don’t know any other man that spends whole weekends at a time taking care of his daddy.”

  “Uh-huh. Whole weekends and a few days during the week,” I reminded. Keeping another woman and three kids happy had to take up a lot of Odell’s time. There was no way he could be spending even half the time he claimed with his daddy. I wondered just how often he actually did visit his daddy. That old man could have already died, for all anybody knew.

  “Well, he told me that he might start spending a little more of his spare time with Lonnie. Bless him.” She unfolded her arms and patted her chest. “Just thinking about my husband and how caring he is makes my heart go pitty-pat.”

  My mouth dropped open. “How is he going to find more ‘spare’ time? He got a full-time job and already spend a lot of time with his daddy. Then he go fishing and to meetings with vendors and whatnot. Plus, he spend hours at a time drinking at my house.”

  “I do, too!” Joyce protested.

  “Let me finish.” I took a deep breath before I went on. “If he was my man, I’d make him spend more time with me. You ought to make him cut his weekend visits to his daddy short, so he can come home early enough on Sunday and go to church with you and take you on some weekend picnics. After all, Lonnie got a wife that used to be a nurse. Ellamae must be lazy as hell or done forgot how to take care of a sick person if Odell have to spend every Sunday out there instead of with you.”

  Joyce snapped her fingers and gave me a smug look. “For your information, his daddy and stepmama are going to visit some of her folks in Huntsville the weekend after next. Odell is going to church with me that Sunday. After the service is over, he is taking me to Mosella’s for a nice, quiet, romantic lunch.”

  “That’s nice, Joyce. I wish I was going with y’all.”

  “If you and Milton don’t have plans for that day, y’all can come to church with us. I wish I could invite y’all to go to Mosella’s with us, too. But Odell wants to spend some quality time alone with me. You know what kind of man he is.”

  “I sure do. He likes to show his love . . .”

  “You must be talking about how he took such a shine to your kids.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Joyce gave me a look words couldn’t describe. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can tell that Milton has already changed for the better. He is so lucky Odell was willing to take him under his wing. But he still needs a little more work to smooth out his rough edges. Lord knows he needs all the help he can get. And, since you and I have been spending so much time together, I can see that you’re a little more sophisticated than you were when I first met you.”

  “I can’t tell you how much that means coming from a woman like you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m tickled pink to hear that you have a higher opinion of me now. I don’t care how hard I try, I don’t think I’ll ever be on your level.”

  “I know. God loves all of us equally. But He’s got his reasons for not blessing us equally. Me and Odell are so fortunate.”

  “I feel the same way,” I agreed, with my stomach churning. I had never heard anybody say such a boastful thing before in my life. But it wasn’t a surprise coming from Joyce. Somehow, I managed not to bust out laughing. I didn’t know how much more of her and Odell’s foolishness I could stand before I let them have a big piece of my mind. “I better get these hush puppies out there before they get cold. I know Odell is anxious to dig in.”

  Before I could take a step toward the door, Joyce leaned her head over the bowl and sniffed. Then she frowned and rubbed her nose. “They smell and look overcooked. Maybe the next time I come over, I’ll cook a batch for you to serve. Mine always turn out perfect.”

  CHAPTER 35

  YVONNE

  THE STUFF MILTON HAD TOLD ME ABOUT ODELL EARLIER THIS week was the heaviest burden I’d ever had to carry in my life.

  Just as I was about to start cooking some dumplings for supper Thursday evening, I heard a car door slam. Like always, I rushed to the living-room window and peeped out. It was Odell. I shook my head when he got out and trotted around to Joyce’s side to open her door. She was holding a huge bouquet of roses. I cracked the window open enough so I could hear what they was saying.

  “Watch your step, sugar. I don’t want you to break none of my bedroom toys,” he teased in his most charming tone. He grabbed ahold of her arm and helped her out. She giggled like a hyena.

  No man had ever held open a car door for me or gave me flowers. It amazed me how Odell could be so attentive and thoughtful to his wife when he had another woman he probably loved just as much, if not more. Joyce was still jealous of the attention I got from men, though. I realized that back in July when we’d gone shopping and to lunch. Almost every man we’d run into had tried to pick me up, and one e
ven paid for my lunch. I could tell it bothered her by them sly narrowed-eyed looks she gave me when it happened. But if I had one doing all the things for me that Odell was doing for her—and probably for his other woman, too—I wouldn’t care if another man never whistled at me or tried to pick me up again.

  Milton had left the house with Willie Frank ten minutes ago to deliver orders that some other bootleggers had put in. I’d be by myself for a while. I couldn’t understand why I suddenly got so jumpy. Even after I drunk a shot of moonshine, I couldn’t sit or stand still. I would have gave anything in the world for somebody to knock on the door, just so I’d have somebody to talk to. I knew we’d have a nice crowd later on, but I needed somebody to talk to now. Before I could stop myself, I headed next door. Joyce must have seen me coming, because she opened the door before I’d even made it to her porch.

  “Joyce, I hate to bother you, but I was wondering if you had a few chicken necks I could borrow? I’m making Milton some dumplings for supper and just realized I didn’t have no meat to season them with.”

  “Come on in. I’ll go check.” She motioned me into the living room, and she skittered toward the kitchen. Odell was already kicked back on the couch, reading the newspaper. A big ceramic vase sat on one of the end tables, with the flowers I’d seen Joyce with.

  “Hi, Odell. I know y’all just got home a little while ago, so I won’t stay but a minute.” It was hard for me to sound so gracious in the presence of a devil.

  “You ain’t got to be in no hurry.” He laid his newspaper on the coffee table and waved me to the love seat facing him. I didn’t plan on staying long, but I sat down, anyway. “You want a bottle of pop while you waiting?”

  “No, that’s all right.” I fidgeted in my seat and stared at the floor. I could feel his eyes on me, so I looked up to face him. “How was work today?”

  “Girl, each day is better than the last. Even after all these years, I still have to pinch myself to make sure I ain’t dreaming. I’m so blessed.”

  “I know.” I gave him a sharp look, which he didn’t even notice. Just then Joyce returned, holding a plastic bowl covered with wax paper.

  “I threw in a few gizzards and thighs, too,” she said, handing the bowl to me.

  “Thanks, Joyce. Oh, I love your flowers.” I nodded toward the vase. “I wish somebody would give me some one of these days.” I didn’t like to whine, but this time I couldn’t help myself.

  “Well, we can’t all get everything we want. If you get in faith and stay in it, God will bless you, too.” She gave me a sympathetic look. It didn’t take a mind reader to know what she was thinking. I knew she was feeling sorry for me again for being married to a limited man. “Did you and Milton decide whether or not to go to church with us Sunday after next?”

  “I’m pretty sure we’ll make it. But since we belong to New Hope Baptist, I feel funny about it, though. If our preacher was to hear about us going to a different church, since we ain’t been to his since last Easter, he might feel slighted.”

  “Pffft! I wouldn’t worry about Reverend Hayes! Almost everybody in this town knows he’s fooling around with one of his wife’s best friends. Odell and I agree that an unfaithful man does not deserve any respect!” Joyce snapped.

  Odell had a hangdog look on his face. When he seen me gazing at him, he suddenly perked up and started nodding in agreement with her. I wondered what went through his mind when Joyce said that a unfaithful man didn’t deserve no respect.

  “I don’t know why you and Milton joined that run-down church in the first place,” Joyce added.

  “Well, there ain’t but three for colored folks in Branson. The other one is too close to the swamps to suit us. When we went to one of our coworker’s funeral at that church a few weeks ago, a lizard crawled across the floor in the middle of the eulogy. We joined New Hope on account of it’s the same one we went to for school studies during the week when we was kids. And at the time we joined, we lived just a block from it, so we could walk. I feel kind of attached to it.”

  “I still want y’all to go with us at least this one time. It’s Reverend Jessup’s thirtieth anniversary at Tabernacle Baptist. Folks who haven’t been to church in years will be there. It would mean a lot to him to see a full house. I’ve been trying to talk Odell into getting up and giving a speech that day about how God has blessed us, and how much the reverend’s spiritual guidance helps us keep our marriage thriving.” She chuckled. “If Odell does speak, I hope that busybody Aunt Mattie and some of her minions are there to hear it. Maybe then they’ll stop wondering about how secure our relationship is.” Joyce eyeballed Odell like he’d just been served to her on a platter.

  I swallowed hard and looked at him with my head cocked to the side and my eyes narrowed. “Odell, I sure would love to hear what you have to say about marriage . . .”

  He shifted in his seat and started scratching his neck. I wondered what lie he’d tell Betty Jean about why he wouldn’t be coming to see her that day.

  “I bet you could give other men a lot of pointers on how to be a good husband,” I blurted out.

  “I believe I could. I take a lot of pride in being a good role model,” he replied, bobbing his head. “But I’m only human, so I do have a few minor faults.”

  “Sure enough,” Joyce giggled. “Like leaving dirty clothes on the floor and forgetting to refill the water pitcher.”

  If that was what she called Odell’s “faults,” what would she call his bedroom shenanigans with Betty Jean? This couple was beyond my range of belief.

  “You and Milton can ride to church with us. But since we made plans for lunch, y’all will have to hitch a ride home with somebody else, take the bus, or walk,” she told me.

  “That’s all right. We don’t mind. We used to taking the bus and walking. I just pray that someday we’ll be able to afford a car.”

  “Yvonne, keep praying. It’s the most honorable way to achieve success, prosperity, and a happy home. Odell and I are living proof of that. You know, you have a really good attitude for somebody that grew up in the slums. It’s a shame the rest of the people over there aren’t as humble and optimistic as you. Anyway, having such a bleak background and being an ex-convict is nothing to be ashamed about. Your being honest is a virtue. It builds character. Keep that in mind. Right, Odell?” Joyce said with a smug look on her face.

  “Sure enough. I can’t stand liars,” he said sharply.

  I couldn’t believe he could say such a thing with a straight face. As deceitful as he was, it was a wonder he hadn’t turned into a pillar of salt by now.

  CHAPTER 36

  YVONNE

  WHEN I GOT HOME, I THOUGHT ABOUT HOW ODELL HAD BOASTED this time, and especially about his comment about having to pinch hisself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. It made me feel lowly and sad, because it was a reminder that me and Milton was still struggling to get to his and Joyce’s level. The more I thought about what he’d said, the worse I felt.

  I was slumped on the couch, guzzling some home brew, trying to cheer myself up, when Milton came home a few minutes before 7:00 p.m.

  “Baby, you look like you done lost your best friend,” he noticed. He dropped down next to me, wrapped his arm around my neck, and gave me a few hungry little kisses on my jaw.

  “I got cramps,” I lied. Female body issues gave Milton the heebie-jeebies. I let out a moan and rubbed my belly to be more convincing. Whenever I didn’t want him to badger me about nothing, that was the route I took to get him off my back.

  He shuddered and stood back up. “Cramps, huh? You want me to brew you some tea and get them pills out the bathroom?”

  “No. I’ll be fine. I took some already. I’m glad you finally home.” I cleared my throat and managed a weak smile. “Baby, Odell and Joyce invited us to go to church with them the last Sunday in the month.”

  “No shit?” He laughed and sat back down.

  “Be nice now. It’s Reverend Jessup’s thirtieth anniversary. Let’s go.
Odell might give a speech about how wonderful their marriage is.”

  We busted out howling at the same time. We laughed nonstop for a whole minute. Milton got so carried away, he started choking, and I had to slap him on his back.

  “I wouldn’t want to miss a dog and pony show like that. I’d even pay to hear it,” he said.

  Then we laughed some more.

  * * *

  The last Sunday in October had finally arrived. I couldn’t wait to go to church and hear Odell’s speech. Milton and I had agreed that it would give us enough comedy to laugh for weeks to come.

  There was no telling what Joyce was going to wear to church today for Reverend Jessup’s anniversary sermon. I decided to wear my V-necked lime-green blouse and a navy-blue skirt. It was one of the few outfits I had that was suitable for church. I had a ribbon with red, yellow, and green stripes holding my ponytail in place; and a pair of green earbobs, which I had stole last month from Branson’s only jewelry store, dangled from my ears. Milton had just got his blue pin-striped suit dry cleaned, so the leg creases looked almost as sharp as a knife blade. His black-and-white spats made his feet look so much better than the round-toed, high-topped brogan shoes he usually wore.

  Around 9:00 a.m. we headed next door.

  “We better sit in the back of the church, because I won’t be able to stop myself from laughing when Odell go up to that podium,” I whispered as we walked up on the porch.

  “I was thinking that same thing,” Milton whispered back.

  When Odell opened the door, dressed in one of his undertaker-looking black suits, I could barely look in his eyes without laughing already. “Where y’all going this time of morning dressed up like peacocks?” he asked, looking amused as his eyes roamed over us. “Halloween ain’t until Tuesday.”

  Me and Milton gave each other puzzled looks, and then we turned back to Odell.

  “We going to church with y’all this morning,” I answered. “Did you forget already?”