If These Walls Could Talk by Bettye Griffin

kidding? Of course I know. Reuben, we’ve been going out there every week for the last four months.” They drove out to the site every Saturday once construction had started, sometimes disappointed to see little or no progress, sometimes thrilled to see their home edging closer to completion. The structure didn’t look like much at the beginning, with just the foundation, wood frame, and unfinished roof, but then windows were placed, the drywall went up, the stairs to the basement and the second floor were built and the house took on the shape of the model it mirrored. As it neared completion even Mitchell and Shayla got excited.
    â€œCall my cell if you have any problem,” Camille said.
    â€œWill do. Drive carefully, honey.”
    â€œI will.” Reuben leaned out the window to give her a quick kiss. He patted the large steering wheel. “I’m not looking forward to driving this big ol’ thing all the way to Tobyhanna, I’ve got to tell you.”
    â€œIt’s gonna be fun!” Mitchell exclaimed.
    â€œThat’s what you say now, Mitch, but wait til we start hitting all those bumps on the turnpike and your butt is bouncing all over the place.” Reuben turned back to Camille. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. We’ll have lunch in our new house.”
    Those last three words made Camille’s toes tingle. Our new house. Their own house. God, just thinking of it gave her that same rush she got during sex. “I can’t wait.”
    â€œBye, Daddy. Bye, Mitchell,” Shayla said.
    â€œBye!”
    Camille and Shayla got into the family’s white Malibu and drove off. Camille allowed Shayla to insert her Winnie the Pooh CD and sing along. Normally she found cutesy songs like that “Christopher Robin” one overly cheerful, but today she didn’t care what they listened to. She felt too keyed up. Besides, better Winnie the Pooh than hip-hop.
    After waiting so many months for construction to be complete, suddenly everything fell smack dab into place. She and Reuben went for a final inspection Thursday morning, closed Thursday afternoon, and now they had the keys to their front and back doors, plus a bottle of champagne, courtesy of the builder. This was it. Instead of looking at their future home and longing for the day when they would at last live in it and then heading back to the Bronx, the future had finally arrived; and they were going to their new home for good.
    The moment seemed almost anticlimactic. There was no one to wave good-bye to; Saul and the others who had helped carry their belongings down the stairs had already said their farewells and gone on their way. The sheet metal shop was closed today, so all was quiet for a change. Camille thought it ironic that the banging and slamming that often disturbed her Saturday mornings didn’t happen this last morning in their apartment. But a roaring train pulled into the 161st Street station as she headed for the Major Deegan Expressway, a fitting ending to the life they were leaving behind. Now it would be Saul’s turn to cope with those damn El trains every ten minutes.
    The landlord was happy to offer a lease to Reuben’s brother, his former employee, when he learned they would be moving out. It still incensed Camille whenever she recalled telling the landlord that she and Reuben would be giving up their apartment to live in their new house in Pennsylvania. He hadn’t bothered to even try to conceal his astonishment. He clearly expected them to remain in the apartment for years and years, raising their rent annually, even though he knew it was too small for them. She’d wanted to ask him, Do you think you’re the only one who wants to improve their life?
    They crossed the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey. Camille felt like they’d gotten away with an extra four dollars, because the toll booths were on the other side, for those entering New York.