“Mom, you won’t believe the house that I worked in today! It’s beautiful…Uncle Pippi told me that it’s from the Victorian era.” I tell Mom about a housecleaning job that Uncle Pippi got a hold of for me. It’s my first paying job, at fifteen-years-old.

“Jeanne, set the table – the dishes and forks are on the counter. Get the paper napkins,” said Mom, pointing to a Grade A Market grocery bag sitting on the washing machine.

“Put the rest of the groceries away while I toss the salad. Leave the eggplant on the counter. I’m going to fry it tomorrow for eggplant parm.”

“Mom, I want to tell you…” I try again.

“Barbara and Maria, get in here now! If I have to call you one more time! God damn these kids!”

“Donna! Finally! What took you so long to get home? Go hang up your coat, then get in here and help with supper,” said Mom to my older sister as she came in the back door.

“Jeanne, get the Italian bread, cut it up, and put it in a basket,” said Mom, taking a roast beef out of the oven. Green beans from Uncle Pippi’s garden simmered on the stovetop.

“You girls sit down, supper’s ready. Maria, get those crayons off the table. Barbara, tie your sneaker, it’s loose. Jeanne, pour Maria a glass of milk. Don’t let her do it herself! That’s all I need to do is clean up spilt milk. Barbara, get that smirk off your face. Did you finish your homework? Donna, grab that dishrag and wipe up the counter. There are bread crumbs all over it. Okay, everybody sit down.”

“Mom, that house is so cool. It’s filled with Victorian furniture. I’ve never seen furniture like that before.”

“Oh, yeah? Do you know what that house is called?” Finally, Mom responds.

“Maria, quit kicking me!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are, liar! I know it’s you!”

“It’s not, stupid!”

“You’re stupid!”

“Am not, you’re stupid!”

“The two of you shut up before I smack the both of you! Donna, how was work? What wacky news is there at the Noroton Publishing Company today? Maria, give me your Girl Scout uniform after supper. I have to sew a patch on it. Barbara, bring down your dirty clothes from your room, I want to run the washing machine. I’m going out with Aunt Mae tomorrow night. I want all of you girls home for the night, do you hear me? Barb, pass the corn. Donna, pass the bread. Maria, use a napkin, wipe your mouth, that’s disgusting.”

“Mom, what’s it called?”

“What?”

“The house, Mom, the Victorian house that I cleaned.”

“Oh, that. It’s called Garden Gate.”

Garden Gate, the garden way.