Standing on the pavement outside her apartment, Leanne Armstrong assesses the situation. Her food stamps should have been replenished this morning, but there was some kind of glitch in the computer system. The food stamps were not transferred to her EBT card.1 She’ll have to figure out what happened later. They’re out of food, and she needs a plan B.
Leanne has $30 in her bank account, which won’t be enough to tide her over until she can get the mess with her food stamps figured out. Fortunately, today is payday. The paycheck plus the $30 in her account might just be enough. The checks are cut at 2:00 pm.
With Latrell looking on, Leanne and her mother, Renata, make a plan. They will drive to McDonald’s, get Leanne’s check, cash it at the bank, and drive to the store.2 Renata almost always goes grocery shopping with Leanne, both because she manages Leanne’s money and because she owns a car and Leanne and Latrell do not.
Hakeem and Gage bound over to Renata’s green Ford station wagon. “Can we go?” they clamor.
“No! We don’t have room!” Renata tells them curtly. The heat is making everyone agitated.
“Go play!” Latrell tells the kids. He hands Gemma to Leanne, then goes into the house and returns with Gemma’s plastic car seat. With some effort, he installs it in the back seat of the station wagon and starts to buckle Gemma in.
Gage runs off, but Hakeem hesitates. His lip quivers at the thought of being left out. Leanne leans her arm out of the passenger window. Hakeem’s sad, puppy-dog look tugs at her heartstrings. “We will get you some candy, baby. Is there anything in particular that you want?” she asks. Hakeem is inconsolable. He stares forlornly at the ground.
“What you want? A Pepsi? Chocolate?” Leanne prods.
No answer.
“I’ll surprise you!” Leanne says cheerfully. Latrell finishes buckling Gemma into the car seat.
From the driver’s seat, Renata adjusts the rearview mirror. She catches Gemma’s eye. “Take that pacifier out your mouth! You gonna get a whoopin’ today!” she tells her, cackling at the hollow threat. Gemma continues to suck on the pacifier.
Renata shifts the car into gear and is backing out of the driveway when a young boy suddenly appears out of nowhere at the driver’s side window. Renata stomps on the brakes.
“Will you buy me a drink?” he asks hopefully.
“Mercy!” Renata replies exasperated. “Where’s your dad?”
The boy sheepishly backs away from the car. With a “tsk, tsk,” Renata continues reversing out of the driveway. It’s 1:30 pm.
The first stop is McDonald’s, where Leanne will pick up her paycheck. The old Ford lurches as Renata speeds down the road, occasionally and unpredictably swerving to miss potholes or change lanes. Even with the windows down, it is boiling hot inside the car.
Renata and Leanne discuss what to buy at the Food Lion across the street from McDonald’s. Renata knows the deals by heart. She remarks that chicken leg quarters are on sale for approximately $6.90. “I’m sick of all the shit I make from them old school recipe books,” she tells Leanne.
“I want some Shake ’n Bake,” says Leanne, changing the subject. Renata remembers that she wants to look for some boxed dinners that are also on sale.
“Like those Banquet dinners?” Leanne asks, scrunching up her nose.
“No, no! They are not Banquet. They’re $3. Hold on. I can’t think.” Renata puts her hand to her forehead. “It’s all in one box. For $3. A $3 meal. That’s a good deal. Meat already in the box!”
“Meat and everything?” Leanne questions.
“Everything!” Renata says jubilantly, her hands gripping the wheel. While stopped at a red light, she informs Leanne that she recently bought some fresh ears of corn on sale. “I got four for a dollar. Then I went back and it was two for a dollar and I was like, ‘What? Really?’ ” For Renata and Leanne, sales are worth showing up for and never last long enough.
When the light turns green, Renata steps on the gas and makes a sharp left into the shopping complex entrance. She makes a beeline for the Food Lion at the far end of the parking lot. Pulling into the loading zone, she slams the car into park and turns to Leanne.
“Run in there and get one of them papers, baby,” she orders her. Leanne dutifully climbs out of the car and heads to a small rack of fliers just inside the store entrance. On her way back to the car, she stops to talk briefly to a man with short dreads and a red shirt. Leanne and her mother know a lot of people in this neighborhood.
Leanne gets back in the car and peruses the flier as Renata drives across the street to the McDonald’s, where she finds a shaded parking spot right in front of the restaurant. She puts the car in park. Almost immediately, heat descends like a heavy blanket.
“They have a good deal on cereal—buy one, get one for free,” Leanne remarks. “And coffee is only $6.99.” Looking up from the flier, she stares out the windshield across the parking lot. “Gosh. This sucks that I have to pay for groceries,” she says.
“I know. Right?” Renata replies, snatching the flier out of Leanne’s hands.
Leanne gets out of the car and comes around to Gemma’s side to check on her. Leaning against the side of the car, she lights a Newport and takes a long drag. Surveying the parking lot, she sees a man in the distance. He is wearing a McDonald’s shirt and is headed in Leanne’s direction. A smile spreads across her face. “Hellooo!” she yells to get his attention.
The man looks up, smiles, and walks over to the car. After a short exchange, he peers into the back seat. Seeing Gemma, he says, “How you doin’?” Gemma beams back. “You are simply gorgeous!” the man tells her. She smiles again. Her brown eyes sparkle. Leanne takes another drag of her cigarette.
They say goodbye, and Leanne gets back into the car. Even with the windows down, the car is sweltering. Beads of sweat form along Gemma’s hairline. Renata turns the key in the ignition and reads the dashboard clock. It’s 1:51 pm.
“We only have nine more minutes,” Leanne says optimistically. Renata bides her time by scanning the flier. She points out that Pop Tarts are on sale: two for $4.
“That’s what I’m gettin’,” Leanne says enthusiastically, looking over Renata’s shoulder. “That and the fruit snacks that are two for $4. Why they put Rice Krispies treats under the breakfast section?” she ponders aloud.
“I don’t know. They nasty! I wouldn’t pay two cents for those. But you can get tomatoes three for a dollar or the plum tomatoes for $1.49 a pound. Those are the small Roma tomatoes,” Renata explains. She demonstrates by forming her right thumb and index finger into an oval. “And you can slice them long and put them on a sandwich. You save like that.”
Nine minutes slowly pass. When the dashboard clock finally reads 2:00 pm, Leanne opens the creaky car door, gets Gemma out, and heads for the McDonald’s entrance. A refreshing blast of cool air greets them inside. The restaurant is almost empty, the lunch crowd gone. A woman with a McDonald’s visor sits alone in a booth, eating a burger.
Leanne walks over to the woman. “Heyyyyy,” she says in a syrupy voice. The woman, in her early sixties, looks up. Brown permed hair sticks out of her visor at odd angles. She smiles at Gemma, then appraises Leanne. Her gaze comes to rest on Leanne’s slightly protruding stomach. She reaches out and touches it.
“You aren’t fixin’ to have another baby are you?” she asks.
Leanne looks down at her belly and says good-naturedly, “Naw. I’m just fat.” “This is my last one,” she adds, nodding to Gemma.
The woman eyes Leanne disapprovingly.
“Well, two people just got fired today,” she says.
“Who?” Leanne asks, looking surprised. The woman explains that one employee texted the manager that she quit, so technically she wasn’t fired. The other employee never showed up, so they let him go. Leanne seems unfazed by this turn of events.
“What you doin’ here anyways?” the woman demands.
“I am here to get my check,” Leanne replies.
The woman folds her arms across her chest. “Well, they don’t come in until three o’clock,” she informs Leanne, as if she should have known this already.
Leanne’s jaw drops. “Not until three o’clock?! I thought they were ready at two?”
“They changed the rule. It’s now three,” the woman says. As an afterthought, she adds, “But you could go ask the manager anyways.”
Leanne swivels abruptly and heads toward the counter. She says hello to a young woman behind the register and asks if the checks come in at three o’clock. Just as she gets confirmation, the manager, a burly man in his early thirties, appears from the back. Leanne asks him about the checks, explaining that she thought they came in at two o’clock. He listens with a deadpan stare.
“They come in at three o’clock,” he says flatly.
Leanne doesn’t protest. “Well, I’ll be back then,” she says, already heading toward the door.
On her way back to the car, Leanne looks up when she hears a voice say, “Heyyy!” Turning around, she stares blankly at a woman about her age.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” the woman laughs. Leanne admits she doesn’t.
“It’s me, Tiffany!”
Leanne smiles, now recognizing her. “Oh hey!” she says. She visually scans Tiffany, who is wearing skin-tight pants.
“You look good!” Leanne exclaims. Tiffany laughs. The two women quickly fill each other in on the last couple of years. It turns out Tiffany’s boyfriend lives down the street from Leanne.
“You work at McDonald’s?” Tiffany asks.
“Yup.”
“I should come to McDonald’s sometime. We can do lunch,” she suggests.
“Sure,” says Leanne, politely but without conviction.
Renata watches the exchange like a hawk. She barely waits for Leanne to get back in the station wagon and close the door before she begins interrogating her.
“Who was that?”
“Tiffany.”
The name doesn’t ring any bells for Renata.
“Remember? She’s that girl that you didn’t want me to hang out with because you thought she was fast.”
“Well, she still looks fast.”
“She’s got five kids, too,” Leanne says. Leanne’s three youngest children live with her, but her first two children, both born when she was in her teens, were removed from her custody at a young age. They live with relatives, and she sees them only occasionally.3
“I don’t understand your generation!” Renata says forcefully. “Y’all got all these children you can’t feed, and no education, no nothing!” After a silent pause, she adds, “And you smell like grease!”
Renata suddenly realizes Leanne is empty-handed. “Where’s your check?” she asks incredulously.
“They aren’t ready until three.”
“What?!”
“And two people got fired today,” Leanne adds glumly.
“Well, I don’t care about that,” Renata retorts. “Somebody needs to fire McDonald’s for not telling their employees when the damn checks come out! What are we supposed to do now?” she asks in an accusatory voice, as if this is Leanne’s doing.
Gemma, content until now, begins to whimper from the back seat.
“Hush up! Quit your whining!” Renata tells her.
“What you want to do? Go look around?” Leanne suggests half-heartedly.
Renata gazes in the direction of the Food Lion. “We can go get groceries in the cart, ask them to hold them for us, and then come back here and get your check,” she proposes. Leanne seems ambivalent and remains silent. A few quiet minutes pass. The heat is staggering.
Renata decides to go through the drive-through to get Gemma some water and an ice cream. She pulls out of the parking space and navigates the car up to the ordering station, where she hollers into the speaker, “Hey. Can I get a fifty-cent ice cream and a water?” A garbled voice on the other end informs Renata that the water will cost twenty-five cents.
“Aw, shit!” Renata exclaims. She digs through her change purse and retrieves a quarter. “Okay!” she yells into the speaker and puts the car in gear. As they pull up to the window, Leanne recognizes the cashier and leans across Renata to talk to her.
Renata interrupts their chit-chat. “I can’t believe they charge a quarter for water!” she admonishes the cashier. The young woman smiles noncommittally and takes Renata’s money.
As they pull away from the drive-through, Leanne says softly, “Not like she can do anything about it.”
Renata finds a shady spot in the parking lot and shuts off the engine. She gets out, surveys the shimmery heat rising from the pavement, and opens Gemma’s door. Squeezing her narrow hips into the space between the car seat and the door, Renata smiles at Gemma.
“Look what Grandma got you!”
Gemma smiles eagerly as she watches Renata put a bit of ice cream into a plastic spoon. Gemma takes a bite and smiles some more.
“Look. She loves it! Give me some of that water,” Renata tells Leanne. Leanne hands the small plastic cup to her mother, who seizes the opportunity to tell Leanne that small kids should always drink water with ice cream, to rinse the sugar off their teeth. In the middle of her lesson, a dollop of ice cream falls on Renata’s shirt, but she doesn’t notice. She feeds Gemma more of the ice cream, alternating it with the water. When Gemma seems to have had enough, Renata passes the half-eaten cup of ice cream up to Leanne and gives Gemma another sip of water.
“You don’t know how much your check is, do you?” she questions Leanne.
“No,” Leanne responds glumly.
“Well how many hours do you have?” Renata snaps.
“Forty-four.”
Renata takes out her cell phone and punches the numbers into the screen. At that exact moment, the phone rings.
Renata puts the phone to her ear. After listening for a minute, she tells the person on the other end, “Boy! You need to take your happy pill or something! Just ’cause you talkin’ doesn’t mean you are up. Bye, boy!” But instead of hanging up, she continues to talk, “No! We haven’t started! We’re handling it!” She pauses and then yells into the phone, “Because we need something to do but sit in this hot-assed sun!”
Renata hangs up the phone and looks at Leanne. “He can’t call me no damn word. F’n piece of shit! He should have come up here with me!” The person on the other end of the phone is Renata’s boyfriend. By all evidence and according to Leanne, they have a tumultuous relationship.
Renata looks at Leanne and again proposes they start shopping without the check. “Do you think this is a good idea?”
“No,” Leanne quickly replies, as if she has been waiting for Renata to ask her that question.
“Well, I don’t know what else to do, Leanne!”
“Do you think they’ll let us do that?”
“Sure they will! We know people who work at Food Lion.”
“I don’t know any of the faces in there,” Leanne says, distancing herself from the ways this plan could go wrong. “You wanna go back to my house?” she suggests.
“No! I ain’t got gas like that!” Renata says, giving Leanne a look that says she should know better.
“This sucks,” Leanne says drearily. “And I gotta be to work at five o’clock.”
“You gotta be at work at five?” This steels Renata’s resolve. “We’re going inside and we will just have to go to customer service and tell them our plan. There’s no sense wasting time!” Without waiting for Leanne’s reply, she puts the car in gear.
Walking through the sliding glass doors of Food Lion,4 Renata and Leanne are welcomed by a blast of cool air. Renata heads straight to the customer service desk, while Leanne selects a cart and buckles Gemma in. Renata knows the young woman behind the counter and asks how her mother is doing before explaining their situation. She outlines her plan: shop first, leave the cart, go across the street to pick up Leanne’s check, and then come back. The customer service representative listens patiently and assures Renata this is not a problem.
Renata heads toward the produce section. “Do you want to start over here?” she calls to Leanne.
“Yeah,” Leanne replies perfunctorily.
Renata waves to a woman in the deli area and veers over to the counter. Leanne follows her, pushing Gemma in the cart. As they approach the counter, the woman notices Gemma.
“When did this happen?!” she asks, her eyes bright with curiosity and excitement.
“Last year,” Leanne smiles. Renata continues talking while Leanne meanders toward a bread display. She selects a loaf of white bread and places it in the cart. She then bends over to kiss Gemma, who playfully slaps her mother in the face. Leanne pretends to slap her back, and Gemma throws her head back and laughs.
“You love Mommy?” Leanne asks sweetly, putting her face close to Gemma’s. Gemma smiles. Leanne turns her attention back to the task at hand. She contemplates a display of honey peanut butter but decides against buying it, because it is not a necessity.
Leanne is grabbing a can of canned green beans from the shelf when Renata asserts that she prefers the French-cut style. Shopping with Renata involves constant negotiations. Leanne puts back the ones she has in her hand and selects four cans of French-cut beans.
As Leanne makes her way around the store, she periodically records her selections in a steno pad. In aisle three, she picks out different types of Oodles of Noodles, which are twelve for $3. Renata spots the boxed dinners she had mentioned earlier. “This is what I was talking about,” she exclaims, pointing to a row of Banquet Wholestyle Bakes on the bottom shelf.
“Eww! I don’t like stuff like that,” Leanne says, glancing at them.
“Well I haven’t tried it yet, but’s it’s cheap,” Renata says defensively. “Banquet is nasty, but I will try it.” She throws the box in the cart.
Leanne gives her mother a dubious look and keeps walking. She selects Velveeta whole grain pasta, a twelve-pack of Pepsi, and a twelve-pack of grape Sunkist. A box of premade pasta salad, a small bag of sugar, and several packages of meat also make it into the cart. Leanne finds a small bag of Cheetos and presents this to Gemma, whose eyes light up as she grabs for it.
Renata’s phone rings. She answers it and saunters off to have a private conversation. Leanne selects a bottle of store brand vegetable oil.
When Renata returns, she immediately spies the bottle of oil in the cart. Picking it up, she scrutinizes the label. “I believe the proceeds from this will help kids in the United States,” she comments approvingly.
Leanne stares at the contents of her cart. “This is the least groceries that I’ve ever bought,” she says.
Renata nods in agreement and throws in a package of pork chops for herself. Leanne finds a package of turkey wings for $5.90. “We are going cheap now!” she says, attempting to muster some enthusiasm. “Let’s go look at hamburgers and hot dogs.”
Leanne discovers that bacon is on sale, for $1.59. She calls Renata over to look.
“Shut up! I want one too. I hate to spend my money on this. They don’t never mark down daggone sausage!” Renata exclaims.
Leanne finishes up, adding packaged deli meat, coffee, and a few energy drinks to the cart. The energy drinks and coffee are what keep her going when she has to stay up late. Between studying for her classes, working shifts at McDonald’s, and caring for the kids, Leanne has been pulling a lot of late nights.
“I’m ready to leave,” Leanne tells Renata. She apprehensively wheels the cart over to customer service and apologetically explains their situation again. The women behind the counter assure her it’s fine to leave the cart there.
Leanne secures Gemma in her car seat as Renata gets behind the wheel. Once Leanne is in her seat, they slowly drive back across the street to the McDonald’s. Renata parks and Leanne opens the door. “I’ll be right back!” she calls out.
Renata yells to Leanne out the window. “Pull your dress down! In the back!”
Leanne smiles and tugs at the back of her cotton dress.
“She doesn’t hear nothin’, she’s so focused on other people,” Renata mutters. After a few minutes, Leanne reappears, check in hand. She gets back in the car.
Renata peers over Leanne’s shoulder as she opens the check. They stare at it for a moment. Finally, Renata nods approvingly at the amount: $246.5 Without saying a word, she puts the car in gear and heads to the bank down the street.
Leanne deliberates out loud about what she should do with the money as they drive to the bank. The choices are stark. She is delinquent on a bill, but they need to eat.
“It’s pay this bill or else let them take me to court. I should let them to take me to court, right?” Leanne asks her mother. “’Cause I really need groceries.”
“Let ’em take you to court!” Renata urges. “Tell the judge you have three children to feed. Girl! Do you know how many medical bills I’m behind on? You can’t get blood out of a turnip!”
Every day in the United States, families are forced to make hard decisions like whether to fall behind on rent, ignore medical bills, or let the cupboard go empty.6 Many, like Leanne, make the choice to buy food, reasoning that the alternatives can’t be worse than going hungry. One of every eight American households lacked sufficient food at some point during 2016. Between 2008 and 2014, as a result of the Great Recession, the number was higher: one out of every seven households.7 Food insecurity—not having enough food to live a healthy, active life—is often associated with economic shocks and constraints, such as losing a job, having unexpected expenses, losing food stamps, or having a very limited financial cushion.8
Few resources mean families are forced to make hard choices. A number of studies have shown that food insecurity often goes hand in hand with other forms of hardship, including being unable to meet housing or medical expenses, “doubling up” and living with others to save money on housing, or being evicted.9 According to sociologist Matthew Desmond, many poor families spend most of their income on housing, with little left over to pay for things like healthcare, transportation, and even food. “The rent eats first,” he argues.10
But families prioritize their needs in different ways; sometimes the kids eat first. In this case, Leanne Armstrong decided to buy food instead of paying a bill. People make these decisions knowing they face the possibility of going to court, being evicted, having the electricity turned off, or skipping medical care and other expenses.
For the final time that day, Renata, Leanne, and Gemma cross the street in Renata’s beat-up Ford. To Leanne’s relief, they find the grocery cart right where she left it, in front of the customer service desk. Leanne wheels it into the checkout lane. She begins unloading the groceries onto the belt but then remembers she promised the boys some candy. Contemplating the display, she selects a Twix for each of the boys and a package of Starburst candy for Gemma. While the cost of little treats like this adds up, straining her limited budget, the tradeoff of seeing her kids happy sometimes matters more to Leanne.11
Leanne asks the cashier if she knows her brother, Marvin, who used to work at this same Food Lion a long time ago.
The cashier smiles politely but doesn’t answer. “That’ll be $118.90.”
Leanne had estimated that the bill would not be over $100, but she feels pleased anyway. “I just saved a bunch of money shopping at Food Lion!” she says, looking at Renata.
“I always shop at Food Lion,” Renata responds confidently.
“I’ll push the cart if you take Gemma,” Leanne proposes. Renata sighs and reluctantly hoists Gemma out of the cart and onto her hip.
“Thank you, baby!” Renata tells the cashier.
Renata, Leanne, and Gemma are greeted by a wall of heat as the glass doors slide open. On the way to the car, Leanne sees a man she knows and stops to chat while Renata buckles Gemma in. Leanne unloads the groceries into the station wagon, already filled with odds and ends. As Renata slowly backs the car out of the parking lot, Gemma whines from the back seat. She is tired and it has been a long, hot afternoon.
“What?” yells Renata, glancing anxiously in the rearview mirror. “Quit being a cry baby!”
Gemma clutches her pack of Starbursts and quiets down. Leanne lights a Newport and holds her arm out the window as she exhales.
At 3:45 pm, more than two hours after they set off, Renata eases the car into a spot in front of the apartment. She puts the car in park and turns to Leanne.
“He better not come on out here and cuss me. He wants to!” Renata says, referring to Latrell. He often complains about how long Leanne has been gone or what she has bought. Renata wants Latrell to help with the groceries, but he’s nowhere in sight. Impatient, she walks to the front door and knocks. There is no answer.
“Where’s Trell!” she shouts to Leanne, who is opening the back of the car.
“He upstairs,” Leanne replies, looking up at the second story.
Renata knocks again, to no avail. She fishes her cell phone out of her pocket and dials Latrell’s number. He picks up on the second ring and tells Renata he’s on his way, adding that the back door is already open.
“I am not lugging a bunch of groceries around the back!” Renata huffs into the phone.
Moments later, the door swings open.
“Back door service!” Latrell jokes as he darts past a still-fuming Renata and walks to the back of the car. His eyes narrow as he looks into the car.
“I know you ain’t get more coffee!” he says to Leanne disapprovingly. He doesn’t like it when she drinks coffee.
Leanne silently takes an armload of grocery bags and heads into the house. Latrell follows with more bags. Renata releases Gemma from her car seat and brings her inside.
Unpacking the bags, Leanne tells Latrell she decided to spend her paycheck on the groceries. “I’m going to let them take me to court,” she says firmly.
Latrell raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. “Where did you shop?” he asks.
“Food Lion,” says Renata.
“In that case you could have gotten me some frog legs!” Latrell says.
“Food Lion doesn’t carry that kind of thing. You would need to go to the Mexican store for that,” Renata says irritably.
Latrell throws two packs of bacon into the open freezer door, as if shooting hoops. He picks up a bag of groceries and peers inside. Seeing the Oodles of Noodles, he frowns. He looks at Leanne angrily.
“You didn’t get no chicken?” he accuses.
“You like shrimp,” Leanne replies softly.
“That’s why you should have called the phone back. I could have told you not to get those!” Latrell says, his voice growing louder.
“Sorry,” Leanne says quietly.
“You always tell me that after you get back from the grocery store! The kids gonna have to eat the shrimp!” He looks at Renata with a stern look. His upper lip is trembling with growing indignation. “The kids gonna have to eat the shrimp!” he repeats. “YOU want the shrimp?” he asks Renata.
She deadpans back at him. He fumes. “Seriously? I really don’t eat shrimp! I don’t! I DO NOT like shrimp Oodles of Noodles.”
With Renata and Leanne studiously ignoring him, Latrell’s rant against Oodles of Noodles burgeons into a food manifesto. “I eat the chicken, and I like the ones in the cup. And I got the boys into the cup too, with the little spices. I WILL NOT eat the shrimp. Somebody else can eat that. I’m a picky eater. I don’t like anything healthy. No veggies. I’m a junk food person.”
Renata says nothing. Leanne is quiet as well; she’s used to Latrell’s outbursts. She finishes putting away the remaining groceries and heads to the bedroom to get ready for her five o’clock shift. Latrell will be “babysitting” again. Renata heads home to deal with her bad-tempered boyfriend. Leanne will take a cab to work, spending a few more dollars from her paycheck.