DUMBO, Easter Sunday – 1982

“That took long enough.” Bernice looked at Joe like she’d caught him attempting an escape without her. 

Joe sat next to her. He was an easy-going guy unlike his wife, Bernice, who seemed to seethe with irritation whenever she saw me, ever since Celeste and I became a couple in ‘78. It might have been because we weren’t married and had no plans. Since we’d both abandoned hasty first marriages, we knew dissolving a marriage was more complicated than a quick ‘I Do.’ Or maybe it was my Hispanic background or my choice of career, but it was Celeste’s passion, as well.

“Dinner in ten minutes. Ben, why don’t you put on some music?”

After being paid for printing a suite of lithographs recently, we splurged and bought a stereo system with Klipsch speakers. After spending all day trying to listen to music coming out of a tinny clock radio, it was heaven hearing melodic sound soar out of the 3-foot-high speakers. I chose a classical music CD I assumed Bernice might like, but she didn’t seem to notice. Joe did.

“What’s that composition?” 

“Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.” I laid out the plates. “The New York Philharmonic.”

“Beautiful.”

“Those are amazing speakers.” Carl was the younger of Celeste’s siblings. He was in his final year of law school and still living at home. He and his girlfriend were to be married in August. He licked his lips, scrutinizing our speakers like they were cake.

“They’re almost as big as the ones at Danceteria,” said Tina. “Very cool.”

“Everything’s ready. Ben, can you help me bring the dishes in.” 

“So, is everyone hungry?” I sprinted to the kitchen.

Celeste and I marched back and forth with platters of ham, scalloped potatoes, string beans, dinner rolls, etc. and everyone found places to sit at the table.

“I’ll serve the scalloped potatoes from here. The dish is hot.”

“Everything smells delicious.” Joe smiled and nodded. “Pass the ham, please.”

“Your speakers are too big for a normal house,” said Carl. “Here, they’re fine.”

“Maybe you can get a loft too.” Tina poked Carl in the ribs. She was taller than Celeste with the same long, dark hair. “I love this place, all the space, and the high ceilings.”

Carl shook his head. “I couldn’t be comfortable in a place like this. We’re getting a brand new three-bedroom condo by the beach.” He smiled confidently. “With a deck.”

“I’m jealous of these speakers,” said Tina. “How about putting Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers on next?” She picked up a CD from the stack.

“Probably not dinner music.” Celeste nodded toward their mother. “We first heard these speakers at an artist’s loft and decided to get them when we’d saved enough money.”

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you buy a couch instead, so you’d have a place to sit or a rug to cover these floors?” asked Bernice. “Did you see how Pat Nixon is redecorating the White House? Her taste is exquisite, isn’t it?”

“We haven’t seen anything about it, but we don’t watch much TV,” said Ben.

“Why is your table so far away from the kitchen?” asked Bernice.

“We have a small one by the kitchen, but there isn’t enough room for all of us there.” 

Bernice daubed her lips. “I assume you have a bathroom.”

“Yes, Mom, I’ll show you.” Celeste rose from the table and walked toward the kitchen.

“Is that where you sleep?” Bernice pointed to our bed wedged in a corner across from the kitchen. 

 “Yes. Let me turn on the light.”

“I believe I can find my way back.” Bernice closed the door.

“Ben, this place is huge,” said Joe. “It must’ve been a big job to paint it.”

“We used 25 gallons of white for the walls and ceiling and another 10 gallons of gray for the floor,” I said. “It took forever. We had to build a scaffold on casters to paint the ceiling. It looked like a trebuchet.”

“Well, I’m impressed.” Joe seemed to be enjoying the visit, despite the dead guy.

Bernice returned from the bathroom. “Whatever possessed you to buy a blue toilet and bathtub?” 

“Pink or blue was the closeout special. White would’ve cost more. I kind of like it.”

“We bought all the bathroom and kitchen fixtures, including the water heater, for a little more than a thousand dollars,” I said. 

“Really, that much?” Bernice sucked her teeth.

“Anyone wants more potatoes?” I asked. 

Bernice said, “I’ll have more string beans.”

“Well,” said Joe. “Everything tastes wonderful.”