“I’ll take care of it on Friday, once I get paid.”
“You said that two weeks ago.” Her voice cracked, and Ozzie felt shame bloom throughout his chest as he recalled his tab at Wally’s, the local bar that he frequented after his shift. Ozzie scratched hishead, unsure how his weekly bill had gotten so out of control that it had impacted the rent.
“Few things came up. But nothing to worry about.” He stood, placed his cup in the sink, and then picked up the lunch pail she had packed.
Rita sighed. “Oz, I know it’s a lot on you, paying all the bills while I go to school. But Sadie said my job at the law firm is always there if I ever need to return and make a few—”
“No,” he barked. “You have enough to worry about with your studies. I’ll take care of our finances.”
Rita wrung her hands. “I appreciate it, you know I do. But this isn’t like when I was in college. We have responsibilities now.”
“Listen.” Ozzie reached for her hands and brought them to his lips. “It’s my job to provide for you, and I will.”
The uncertainty in Rita’s eyes would haunt him for the rest of the day. He tried to quell her concern by brushing a stray hair from her cheek and then giving her a swift kiss. “I gotta go.”
As he moved past her into the front room, he had no idea where he’d get the back rent. He did know he didn’t want Raymond Alexander to think that Rita had married a loser. They had already helped Rita get that full scholarship to attend Penn for free. All Ozzie had to do was keep a roof over her head and food in her belly, and he would do it come hell or high water.
When he reached the door, Rita called after him. “You haven’t said much about returning to school yourself. Your acceptance letters to Lincoln and Cheyney are in the mail drawer, collecting dust.”
Ozzie felt his posture collapse as he closed the door behind him. Outside, the clouds were rolling in, and he could smell the sweet pungent scent of an April shower on the rise. He kicked an empty soda can and then shoved his hands in his pants pockets as he walked down the street. Of course he’d like to go back to school, get a collegedegree, and work a career instead of just a job. But there weren’t enough hours in the day. As it stood, he was going to have to ask his boss to put him on the docket for possible overtime, which was hard to get because the white boys always got priority.
Ozzie had applied for jobs at the Philadelphia Transit Company as a conductor and a bus driver, but he hadn’t heard back. He had taken on a cleanup job down at the docks two nights a week, but most of that money he had sunk into new brake pads and tires for the Chrysler. Two dollars a month went to the Federal Eagle Club in Mannheim for Katja despite never hearing a word back. But as Ozzie stepped up on the trolley, he knew that the bulk of his money was being spent at Wally’s on the evenings Rita was at school, and he’d have to stop drinking at the bar, at least until he caught up on things. When he slumped down into the plastic seat, he was exhausted, and he hadn’t even gotten to work.
After much pleading, Sissy, his older sister, lent him the money and Ozzie paid Great-aunt Reese the following day, much to Rita’s relief. For the remainder of the workweek, they went their separate ways, disappearing into their singular lives of work, school, hustle, rush, and haste. On Saturday afternoon, they took a stroll around the lake, and then Rita rolled out a blanket and they sat eating egg-salad sandwiches and potato chips while watching the ducks.
Every Sunday evening after the dinner dishes were clean, Ozzie scouredThe Philadelphia Tribuneand theInquirerfor notices that might be for him from Jelka. It was a long shot, but the search kept him from feeling useless. After he read the sports section, he foldedThe Philadelphia Inquirerlengthwise and worked on the weekly crossword puzzle to get his mind off what he hadn’t found. An open can of Schlitz rested at his elbows.
“The first name of a politician whose last name sounds like ‘raft,’?” he mumbled to himself while readjusting the pillows underneath his head.
“William Taft,” Rita called from the bathroom.
“Yes, that’s right.” Ozzie scribbled.
“Babe, what do you think of this?” Rita stood at the foot of their bed in a ruffled black-and-tan-plaid dress that hugged her hips.
The sight of her still took Ozzie’s breath away. “Wow, pretty mama. Where you going, looking so fine?” The crossword puzzle dropped from his hand on the floor as he slid to the edge of their bed.
“I told you.” She drew out the words. “Tomorrow evening I’m being presented with the Stout Legal Skills award at Penn.”
“Remind me what that is again.”
“Ozzie, you don’t listen to anything I say,” she said, pouting.
“Not true.” He rose to his feet and placed his hands on her waist and pulled her to him. “You just have so much good news, it’s hard to keep up.”
“I need you to listen with your ears.”
“Okay, tell me about this award.”
“Well, it’s presented at the end of the second year to the top legal-skills student, and that just happens to be me. It comes with a certificate and a cash prize.”
He tipped his chin. “How much?”
“They haven’t said, but knowing Penn, it’ll be a good amount. I’m hoping we can set it aside toward our down payment on the house.”
He let her go and reached for his beer, mumbling under his breath, “If the bank ever approves our mortgage.”
“Patience, Ozzie. It’ll happen. We just need to keep operating on faith.”
