Once Upon a Project by Bettye Griffin

glad you came along when you did,” Elyse said. “I felt like they had me on the witness stand.”
    â€œI came here to give my kids an idea of where I was raised, not to raise eyebrows,” Susan declared. “My mother taught me to respect older people, and I can’t say I’m surprised that someone brought up all that old stuff with Douglas and Charles, but who is Minnie Johnson to try to make me feel like I committed a crime for having children late?” She grinned sheepishly as she sat down, placing a compact black leather shoulder bag on the table. “It’s good to see you, Elyse.”
    â€œSame here. I’m so happy you came. And seeing your children makes me realize how long it’s been. I feel like I know them, courtesy of your annual Christmas cards with the family photo, but I haven’t seen them in person since your daughter was a baby.”
    â€œDid you know my mother when she was little?” Alyssa asked shyly.
    â€œYes, I sure did, since we were smaller than you are today. In fact, I don’t even remember when we first met each other.”
    Susan shook her head at Elyse’s questioning glance; she couldn’t remember when they’d first met, either.
    â€œShe was just always there,” Elyse continued. “A group of us used to walk to school together, from the time we had to get the crossing guard to stop traffic for us to cross the street, all the way through high school.”
    Susan introduced Elyse to her children, who dutifully said hello.
    â€œMom, when do we eat?” Quentin asked.
    â€œSoon.” Susan turned to Elyse. “My son feels like I’ve tortured him by bringing him down here today. But I always wanted my children to see where I grew up. My husband never felt it was necessary, although he made sure they saw his old house in Kenosha, which his family owned. That’s what made the difference.”
    â€œThere’s nothing shameful about coming from the projects,” Elyse agreed, thinking of Franklin’s haughty attitude. “Kids today, with all those extras they get, have no idea of how things used to be, when parents were doing good just to keep their children clothed and fed well.”
    â€œI hate the idea of being grilled like a T-bone by those nosy old women. I wanted my kids to understand just how fortunate they are. They stared like I’d brought them to another planet. Of course, Dreiser looks really raggedy now.”
    Elyse drew in her breath. “You actually drove through there?” Even she hadn’t dared to do that .
    â€œYes. With the car windows up and the doors locked.”
    They laughed.
    â€œDid you drive down by yourself, Elyse?” Susan asked.
    â€œYes. My husband begged off at the last minute. He really has no interest in my old neighbors.”
    Susan scanned the room. “I guess a lot of husbands felt that way, mine included. I only see a few men here, probably dragged by their wives. I do see Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell over there. Of course, the dragon ladies up front are all widows . . . or their husbands ran for their lives.” Her eyes rested on the group briefly. Now the elderly women took up three tables, their heads bobbing as they chatted and their jewelry shining in the rays from the fluorescent lights overhead. She gasped and quickly turned away.
    â€œSusan? You all right?”
    â€œUm . . . yes. I just saw Ann Valentine sitting up front with the others.”
    Elyse instantly looked across the room. “Oh, yes. She sees you, too.”
    Mrs. Valentine now glared at Susan with an undisguised hostility that made Elyse’s blood run cold.
    â€œIf looks could kill,” Susan muttered.
    â€œWhatever happened to Douglas and Charles, anyway?”
    â€œPat told me Charles is still around. Douglas has been in and out of jail.”
    â€œHe still hasn’t gotten clean after all this time?”
    â€œAfraid not.”
    Elyse