“Look, Camille, just trust me. I quit my job doing this. I’m living lavish because of this.”
“ Is it...illegal?”
“ Girl, naw! And if it is, rich people been doing it to us for years. It’s time for us to make a come up.”
“ But what about the person who buys the house? What happens when they find out about the repairs that are needed?”
“ Is it our fault if they don’t do their homework or hire an inspector? By that time, we’ll be long gone. Most of the time, it’s a wealthy land owner buying up these houses anyway. It’s not your average Joe. Trust, they’ll be able to afford the repairs.”
Now that makes me feel better. I wouldn’t want some family to think they were getting a dream home when they were really getting a money pit. But a wealthy land owner is something completely different.
“Did you mention the purchases to your husband yet?” Lenora asks.
“ No. I told you we have to leave him out of this.”
“ Well, the lender told me we could leave him off the loan paperwork, but that you should probably put him on the deeds. You don’t have to, though.”
“ No. Bryan has nothing to do with this.”
“ Okay then, just trust me Camille. God knows we deserve it. Isn’t that what pastor said last week in his sermon? We deserve to reap after years of sowing!”
I can almost shout right in the living room of this dilapidated house. It is my turn to reap. Especially if we’re selling these houses to rich people to deal with. The wealth of the wicked is laid up for the righteous anyhow.
God is good. All the time.
~20~
Dionne
I’ve been home from the hospital for two days and I have yet to see or hear from Rod. Not even a text message to see if I’m okay, not to mention his child. My doctor gave me pills to reduce any further contractions and has placed me on a moderate bed rest. That means no drives to Birmingham to confront Rod and Peach in their love shack.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that we are getting a divorce. I haven’t gone as far as getting a lawyer, but I know I’ll have to do that soon. The infidelity clause in our prenup means that I’ll be okay financially. Without “daddy’s baby” I wouldn’t have proof of Rod’s infidelity. Luckily for me, Peach’s little pay check is my guarantee to financial stability. I wonder if I can get the mansion in the settlement. It can’t hurt to try.
The doorbell rings and I let out a huge sigh. I know who is at the door. It’s the rescue squad - my mama and both my grandmothers. I’m not going to be able to deal.
I open the mansion doors, and in fly the three women. Of course, Mama and Grandmere are first. They’re both wearing stylish form fitting dresses, flaunting the famous Batiste figure. Both of them are perfectly coiffed, as if they just left the salon. Neither of them look the least bit like caretakers!
At least Grandma Baker actually looks like a grandmother, with her house dress and hair in a bun. She doesn’t really care for Mama or Grandmere Batiste, and doesn’t even try to look like she’s enjoying their company.
“ Dionne, what are you doing up walking around?” Mama asks.
“ If I didn’t get up, who was going to let you in?”
“ Well, we’re in, so up to bed you go.”
I resist. “Mama, I’m not tired.”
Grandma Baker says, “You may not think you’re tired, but your body gave you a real warning. I want to see my first great grandbaby enter the world unharmed.”
“ Okay, Grandma. You know, I am really hungry. I am craving some of your chicken and dumplings.”
Grandma Baker smiles. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want to eat for the next eight months, I’m gonna be right here to cook it.”
Next eight months?
“So you’re staying until I have the baby?” I ask.
All three of them nod.
“Oui, ma petite fleur!” Grandmere Batiste says. She’s
“ Is it...illegal?”
“ Girl, naw! And if it is, rich people been doing it to us for years. It’s time for us to make a come up.”
“ But what about the person who buys the house? What happens when they find out about the repairs that are needed?”
“ Is it our fault if they don’t do their homework or hire an inspector? By that time, we’ll be long gone. Most of the time, it’s a wealthy land owner buying up these houses anyway. It’s not your average Joe. Trust, they’ll be able to afford the repairs.”
Now that makes me feel better. I wouldn’t want some family to think they were getting a dream home when they were really getting a money pit. But a wealthy land owner is something completely different.
“Did you mention the purchases to your husband yet?” Lenora asks.
“ No. I told you we have to leave him out of this.”
“ Well, the lender told me we could leave him off the loan paperwork, but that you should probably put him on the deeds. You don’t have to, though.”
“ No. Bryan has nothing to do with this.”
“ Okay then, just trust me Camille. God knows we deserve it. Isn’t that what pastor said last week in his sermon? We deserve to reap after years of sowing!”
I can almost shout right in the living room of this dilapidated house. It is my turn to reap. Especially if we’re selling these houses to rich people to deal with. The wealth of the wicked is laid up for the righteous anyhow.
God is good. All the time.
~20~
Dionne
I’ve been home from the hospital for two days and I have yet to see or hear from Rod. Not even a text message to see if I’m okay, not to mention his child. My doctor gave me pills to reduce any further contractions and has placed me on a moderate bed rest. That means no drives to Birmingham to confront Rod and Peach in their love shack.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that we are getting a divorce. I haven’t gone as far as getting a lawyer, but I know I’ll have to do that soon. The infidelity clause in our prenup means that I’ll be okay financially. Without “daddy’s baby” I wouldn’t have proof of Rod’s infidelity. Luckily for me, Peach’s little pay check is my guarantee to financial stability. I wonder if I can get the mansion in the settlement. It can’t hurt to try.
The doorbell rings and I let out a huge sigh. I know who is at the door. It’s the rescue squad - my mama and both my grandmothers. I’m not going to be able to deal.
I open the mansion doors, and in fly the three women. Of course, Mama and Grandmere are first. They’re both wearing stylish form fitting dresses, flaunting the famous Batiste figure. Both of them are perfectly coiffed, as if they just left the salon. Neither of them look the least bit like caretakers!
At least Grandma Baker actually looks like a grandmother, with her house dress and hair in a bun. She doesn’t really care for Mama or Grandmere Batiste, and doesn’t even try to look like she’s enjoying their company.
“ Dionne, what are you doing up walking around?” Mama asks.
“ If I didn’t get up, who was going to let you in?”
“ Well, we’re in, so up to bed you go.”
I resist. “Mama, I’m not tired.”
Grandma Baker says, “You may not think you’re tired, but your body gave you a real warning. I want to see my first great grandbaby enter the world unharmed.”
“ Okay, Grandma. You know, I am really hungry. I am craving some of your chicken and dumplings.”
Grandma Baker smiles. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want to eat for the next eight months, I’m gonna be right here to cook it.”
Next eight months?
“So you’re staying until I have the baby?” I ask.
All three of them nod.
“Oui, ma petite fleur!” Grandmere Batiste says. She’s
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