So Many Agoes

Chapter 28

Spring 1972

The reunion that Emilienne and I had after the terrifying snowstorm in February that year, was emotionally charged at the very least. There were tears on all ends and then an all too passionate night between the two of us.

We took Emilienne's pregnancy in stride, the second time being worst than the first. I began looking for a house to move our rapidly growing family into. Graduation was hurdling towards us and it was nearing the time for us to become true, functioning adults.

There was one house in particular that I had absolutely fallen in love with. Located in Newton, Massachusetts, an area we were keen on moving to; it was a soft green on the outside, which reminded me of the dress Emilienne wore to the New Years Eve party where we first kissed.

The inside was even more miraculous. Dark oak hardwood floors ran throughout the entire home. A huge kitchen that the two of us would surely spend hours enjoying. It had 4 bedrooms, enough to expand our family even more if we wanted. Intricate crown molding just added even more character to the home. I fell in love with it. I spoke with the real estate agent immediately and asked if I could bring my family to show them just how perfect it was.

We made the trip from New York during a late March weekend. It rained almost the entire time we were there. We went excitedly, with the intention of making an offer and getting the paperwork started if Emilienne liked it too.

Upon arriving, the agent greeted us happily, prepared to show us the beautiful house. We walked through awestruck, Emilienne looked like she was walking through a castle with a strong look of wonder and excitement plastered on her face.

It was when we were in one of the 4 bedrooms that things went downhill. I was standing in the doorway behind Emilienne, who pointed out where she'd put things to make it a bedroom for Denise. She had been mid sentence when the selling family of the house wandered in. They overheard Emilienne's baby plans and wanted to congratulate us, however they weren't so thrilled the second they saw Emilienne and Denise. The conversation, sadly, went something like this,

"I'd probably put a little desk in that corner for when she reaches school age,"

I had excitedly agreed with her, adding my input as well,

"That's a good idea, and we could paint it a pastel green since she was born the day after Christmas"

"I like that, I was thinking we could have one of those sweet canopy beds when she gets older, we used them to keep out mosquitos in New Orleans but, I'd love her to have one, they're very princess like-"

That's when the owner stepped in to say hello,

"So sorry to interrupt, hello, I overheard you talking about making this a kids room and I wanted to say congratulations, this house was a wonderful place to raise our children..."

She had trailed off in a comical way, like in the movies when we both turned around. I had moved out of the way so the older woman could see us as a family and not just me. It was when her eyes fell on Emilienne that she slowed in her speech. Emilienne noticed immediately and spoke up,

"Hello, it's wonderful to meet you, I'm Emilienne, this is James, and this here is little Denise,"

The selling owner smiled in one of those condescending ways that says "you're too dumb for your own good." She clasped her hands together tightly, and spoke in a grating tone that still gives me chills, even 47 years later,

"I'm so sorry but I wasn't aware that you were a multiracial couple,"

Emilienne spoke up first, always the one to hold her integrity and stop anyone from trying to walk over her,

"Well, we are, and we're quite happy. James and I met in high school and we've been together ever since"

The woman's expression never changed, she looked almost constipated at the sound of Emilienne's silky, smooth voice,

"Well I'm sorry, but I was unaware, and we're just not in the market to sell to... people like you"

That's when I stepped in,

"Now hold on a minute, what makes you think you can talk to us that way?"

"Again I'm sorry, but I'm just not interested in selling to her kind, I have my limits unfortunately,"

Before anyone could speak again, Emilienne's anger revealed itself. She stepped in front of me, Denise on her hip, curls shining beautifully in the light that shone from the windows,

"That, ma'am, is not the kind of respect you think it is. I'm sure it was absolutely lovely to raise privileged, ignorant, white children in this home without a spec of knowledge on what this world is truly like, but I'd prefer to put my time and effort elsewhere. There will be another home, that hasn't been tainted by your passive aggressive approach to prejudice and we will enjoy it much more. Thank you for your time ma'am, and we'll be leaving now. Goodbye."

After her soliloquy of truth, Emilienne had grasped my hand with forceful determination and pulled me down the stairs and out of the house, leaving the woman, her husband and the real estate agent with their jaws on the floor.

And that was that, Emilienne had a way with words and thought quickly, she always has. We returned to New York house-less, and irked by the events of that weekend, but Emilienne's righteous anger pushed us through the end of the school year.

The two of us graduated, both with impeccable grades, a testament to how much better we were together than apart. We continued on our house hunt that summer and watched Emilienne's tummy grow with a newfound excitement for our future. We had made it through what had seemed the impossible. It was astounding and ever so refreshing.

It was like a rosy-golden haze had settled over us. We were content, we were at peace. We could finally breathe. It was like jazz music played all the time as our entire focus was our family. We did all the sight seeing we could manage, we enjoyed each other's company in every aspect and we watched our little baby grow faster than we were ready to admit.

Nonetheless it finally felt like we were at that place, that place that people talk about when they say "it gets better." So much of the time when someone says that, it's easy to wonder, "When does that happen? Will I even make it to that point?" And when you try to picture yourself in a state of enjoyment, peace and joy, you picture yourself surrounded by a warm glow that makes you think of Paris.

We were finally there, at the end of the marathon, finished with flying colors, standing in front of our 'medals' that proved we put in the hard work, the endless hours of studying, the racing around campus with a baby in our arms. We did it.