Would I Lie to You

by Mary Lou Dickinson

  “Did he say that to you?”

  “No. We didn’t talk about you or his marriage, except that I knew he was happy with you.”

  “Of course I would have accepted his son.” Sue felt irritated at the supposition that she might not have. She watched the older woman walk slowly a step or two before stopping and turning, her lips tight as she faced Sue.

  “Are you sure?”

  Sue flinched and looked away. She did not really know. One of the miracles of meeting Jerry had been that neither of them had children and there was had been a certain relief at that. Lies, she thought. Tragic lies. Now that she had met Thomas, she could no longer understand any of it.

  “I don’t know anymore,” Sue said.

  At breakfast the next morning, Sue sat at the table near a kitchen window that looked out on birds clustered at a feeder. A cat skulked around the foot of the feeder, its eyes fixed on the birds.

  “Kate’s a special young woman,” Florence said.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting her,” Sue said. “I thought Thomas was going to bring her into the city, but it hasn’t happened yet. Martin and Emily went to Stratford to meet her.”

  “Didn’t they offer to take you with them?”

  “I didn’t expect them to.” Sue frowned and looked out at the birds again. There was a cardinal there now, but before she could point it out Florence spoke.

  “I see,” she said, her puzzled expression making it clear that she did not. “We’ll sit together in the church,” she added. “You and I.”

  “Thanks,” Sue said. There would be one person she knew at the reception other than the bride and groom. Well, of course, she would also know Martin and Emily.

  Sue was sorry she had not made more of an effort to be in touch with Florence. Maybe if Jerry had made her feel part of a family, it would have happened. Instead, they had been a couple, seemingly without any attachments. Now, she doubted that that had been enough.

  They had had Maggie and Angus and their family, of course, out on the West Coast, but they had been too far away for much on-going contact. And Wally, in California where he flew a Pacific route for a large American airline, had seldom been in the picture. Aside from the occasional birthday or Christmas card, Sue would scarcely know her brother existed unless she happened to call him. Then, he was invariably friendly and said he would call the next time. To her surprise, he had done so since Jerry died.

  “How will you get there?” Sue asked. It was a long drive for Florence.

  “I haven’t decided. I could take the train. But it’s a bit of a roundabout route.”

  Sue said she could go down a day ahead to Blenheim and they could drive to Stratford together. It was a genuine offer to help the other woman, but she also knew it would make arriving at the wedding easier for her.

  “Thank you,” Florence said. “But let’s see. That’s a lot to ask of you.”

  “Not really,” Sue said. “I’d like the company.”

  “Thank you,” Florence said again. “At the moment, I’m wondering why you wouldn’t drive to Stratford with Martin and Emily.”

  Sue looked out at the birds again. There were mostly small brown birds now, swallows perhaps. She fidgeted with her hands and finally put them around her cup, feeling the warmth of the coffee through it.

  “It’s awkward,” she said. “They’ve been very kind since Jerry died. It must be difficult for Emily because she’s never liked me.”

  Florence was silent, then walked over from the counter to sit down across from Sue at the table. “I find that hard to believe,” she said.

  Sue was uncomfortable after finally articulating the suspicion she had held for such a long time. It would have been better not to have said anything. For a long time, she had sensed Emily’s feelings about her and now that Thomas was in the picture, she had noticed that she was subtly excluded from some conversations. She knew there would always be people whom she disliked, as well as ones who disliked her. But Emily! It meant a continuing uneasiness because Martin wanted to keep in touch with her, or felt an obligation to do so, and sometimes she could tell how awkward it was for him. Especially now that he assumed an extended family with Thomas and Kate that also included Sue. There was no way around seeing Emily. Sue would have to go on facing the unpleasant scrutiny that seemed more intense since the memorial. And yet she had liked Emily when they had first met years ago, had even known her before Martin. Was it possible that she was wrong and it had something to do with Hans? Was it possible that Emily knew about him?

  “Oh well,” she said. “Maybe I imagine it.” But she knew whatever Emily felt about her was not that simple.

  “I hope so,” Florence said. “Because it’s not worth spending time worrying about it. Better to look for ways to make her comfortable.”

  Sue was startled at those words. What could she do to make Emily comfortable? This trip was not turning out at all. She realized she had hoped that Florence would do something to fix whatever worried her. How ludicrous! This was a kind and concerned woman, but nothing more. Sue would have to figure out this new constellation of people in her life a step at a time. If she had not already bungled it.

  *

  When he listened carefully, Hans could hear birds singing. He watched Heather reach into the refrigerator for something in the fruit container. Warmth radiated from a heater by the wall and he stood near it while she cut through the yellow skin of a grapefruit.

  “Want half?” she asked.

  “Save it for later.”

  “I haven’t been fair to you,” she said. “You need to know what I’ve been thinking about.”

  Only moments earlier, they had been chuckling about the way one of her cats had snuggled down between them during the night. Maybe that had given her an opening to share something that he knew she had been worrying about.

  “It’s about Mum and Dad,” she said. Ever so calmly, as if she were calm.

  “Yes,” he said. This was a conversation he had hoped for, but at this moment it was a surprise and he did not know what to say.

  “Let’s be clear,” Hans felt compelled to say. “I’ve always loved you and I still do.” He had never intended his affair would end his marriage. But why was he making a statement as if he were apologizing for something she did not even know about. He hoped she would ignore it, especially since it had nothing to do with what she was trying to tell him.

  “I know that,” she said. “And I love you. But there’s something that’s creating a lot of stress for me.” She stopped and moved slightly closer to him. “I have to go to England again. I can’t leave them alone. I want to take a leave of absence from work.”

  “Oh,” he said, his spirits plummeting. It was odd how the one thing she came up with would be something he had not even anticipated. And although he knew her parents were increasingly vulnerable and even more so since her visit that helped sort out medications and her latest visit a few months later, he did not think he could stand the thought of her being so far away for as long as a leave of absence implied. Nor had they ever talked again about David or what he meant to her. But it hardly seemed like the right time to raise that again, especially after months had passed.

  “I need to think,” he said. “I need to go outside.” At least at this time of year, it was light out earlier. He went to the back door and put on a pair of boots. There were chores to do that would keep his mind from circling around his own fears.

  For a while, he wandered the farm aimlessly, unable to concentrate. What had happened to change everything so much that she would consider being apart for so long? There was a time when she did not want any separation to last for more than a night. He was confused and whatever had to be done on the farm did not feel like the usual antidote. There would be an early haying to take care of and he wondered when he would get to that. So unlike any previous summer when he had r
elished the hard work, it felt as if his will had vanished.

  On the path leading to the pond, one of the horses came up beside him and nuzzled his shoulder. The dog, Rusty, barked at the horse’s nose. He could hear Heather’s voice.

  “Hans, I’m going to have to go into the city. Please, let’s have this chat now.” Her words floated across the pond to him.

  He could not bear it. He already missed her. This was one of those times when he wished he had the power to intuit what would happen, something that would help him decide what to do. He felt lost and guilty. He would never be able to see Sue. That would undermine his marriage completely. He could hear the sound of footsteps and turned to see Heather approaching him.

  “I don’t want to leave without having this talk,” she repeated. “And it’s almost time to go to work.”

  Just when he thought she was the one who evaded communication, here she was pressing him to talk.

  “All right.”

  He did not have any idea what might be coming. There was no image that suddenly appeared for him as his uncle’s skull had. That skull with the date that still sometimes haunted him. At first, he had thought maybe he had made his uncle die.

  “Hans.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m thinking of asking for six months,” she said.

  “That’s a long time.” He understood her concern for her parents, but it felt as if it had now become an excuse for something deeper.

  “Yes,” she said. “It is. Maybe you could try to come over for a while?”

  “What about David?”

  “There’s nothing there, except we did talk about this a couple of times because I had to ask someone whether they thought it made sense for me to be there.”

  “Do you really think he was neutral?”

  Heather sighed. “I don’t know. I assume he was. He didn’t say much one way or another. He just listened.”

  “Just what I’m not doing,” Hans said. “Not that I’ve had much of an opportunity.”

  “C’mon,” Heather said, tugging at his arm. “Let’s go inside and just sit for awhile and…”

  “All right,” he interrupted her. “Let’s.” It is time to be clear, he thought. That was what he had wanted for quite some time now.

  Inside, they settled on opposite sides of the counter that separated the kitchen from a large dining area that looked out toward the road. He stood leaning on his elbow, waiting.

  “I’d like to go as soon as the end of the month.”

  “You know I want you to do all you can for your parents, but I also want our marriage to hold together. This kind of separation isn’t going to help that.”

  Heather looked down at her hands. When she raised her head again, he could see the confusion and pain in her eyes. “I don’t know what else to do,” she said.

  “Okay,” he sighed. “I guess we’ll just have to figure it out.”

  After Heather left for the city, Hans took his lunch and papers out to his car. He had no idea how they would weather the upcoming months, but he had to start to focus on his trip into the office and the appointments scheduled for that afternoon. There would be five that day. Rusty barked beside the car door and he let the dog in beside him. Sometimes, Rusty came with him into the office where he lay on the floor beside Hans’s chair while clients came for readings. As Hans drove to the road that ran past the farm, he saw a crow struggling in the gravel and slammed on the brakes. The bird looked up at him as he stepped out beside it and leaned over, grasping it carefully so as not to cause further injury. He would have to find a box for it. He would also need a small bottle to feed it water. There were seeds in the house. So he went back and put together a small kit for the bird with some loose newspaper and a towel in a cardboard box as well. He settled the crow in the carton and placed it carefully on the back seat.

  “You sit here with me, Rusty,” he said. “Leave the bird alone.”

  He made the sound of a crow. He loved birds and the wonderful calls they made. Such an obvious one, that of the loon, but it was a sound that evoked deep feelings of loneliness as well as of beauty. It made him think of the Big Dipper, of water in a quiet lake, of photographs he might take or had taken.

  The conversation with Heather rose to the top of his mind. If he had had the chance to go to Anna’s side and support her through her illness, he would have gone. It had never dawned on him that more than a visit to his sister was possible. It would have been inconceivable to do that and pay the bills. He was not sure Heather had thought of that either. To keep up the payments on the farm, he would have to work a lot harder.

  If no one cancelled an appointment, his trip into the city would be worth it. That was one thing about this kind of practise. If someone did not turn up, he did not get paid. Sometimes, he would drive all the way and there would be two cancellations, a “no show,” and a list of excuses. If it were a regular client, he could count on that appointment, or at the very least, a message in enough time that he would not have to make an unnecessary trip. It was not so bad when there were other clients who had appointments. But today, feeling the pressure of earning more than usual, he was not about to cancel anything.

  He drove down Mississauga Road to the highway. When he pulled onto the 401, he turned the radio on low, to classical music. It would soothe the crow. The poor bird was thrashing around in the box. It seemed to have a broken wing and maybe a leg, too. He wondered if an animal had attacked it.

  In a few moments, he was surrounded by trucks loaded with cargo, beating up the roads he considered belonged as much to him as to these huge transports. It seemed as if there were more of them all the time. All those goods that were now transported by truck slated for same-day delivery, he supposed.

  Rusty sniffed at his ear.

  “C’mon, dog,” he said. “Too much traffic for nuzzling.”

  Rusty recognized the tone. This was not the time for play. He folded himself down onto the passenger seat, resting his nose on his paws.

  In his office, Hans put the crow in the corner and gave Rusty a rubber bone and a toy doll to play with. Closing the door behind him, he went down the hall to the washroom. When he came back, he set up the tape recorder and looked at his Day-timer. Would this be a good time to call Sue, he wondered, even though he knew it would be better not to do that. It was tempting, even though he had been the one to say he could not offer her what she wanted.

  Fool! he thought. Why had he gone to her house? He could have suggested meeting elsewhere or declined her invitation. And how would he explain that to Heather if it ever came to light? It had only happened because he thought she would never know. Now, he had to make certain that she never did.

  The crow made a low noise and Hans went across the room to peer into the box. What would he do with the bird now that he had rescued it? He leaned over and gently dripped a bit of water from the small bottle into its open beak. Carefully, he slid some seeds closer to it, hoping it would be able to feed itself without trouble. Later, when it was better, he would find a safe place on the farm to release it. That might take a day or two.

  *

  Sue drove to Stratford on the 401 highway. The wedding invitation, a white card engraved with two swans, was lying in an envelope on the seat beside her. These swans did not feel to her as if they were the ones Hans had seen. Or if they were, then this image was not complete in itself. Although she had talked quite a lot with Thomas, she did not know many of the wedding details. Perhaps the swans would turn up as part of the décor at the wedding and the reception.

  Florence had found someone who lived closer who was able to drive her to the wedding, so Sue was on her own, speeding along under blue skies. She wondered why she was taking on a role in Thomas’s life and ignoring that somewhere out there she had a daughter. Why was she not looking for her? Surely it was time. She swerved slightly as a car started to m
ove over into her lane and then pulled back again, as if the driver had suddenly seen her car for the first time.

  Martin had suggested she accompany them, but she found Martin had become more distant of late and she scarcely saw Emily. It had made her nervous to come under the other woman’s scrutiny, afraid that her affair with Hans was written all over her. She wondered if Emily would feel she was betraying Jerry if she mentioned Hans. Surely, after almost two years, she should not feel this guilty. She could hear the contemptuous voice of whatever judge had been assigned to monitor her thoughts: C’mon Sue, that’s not the point.

  Emily would not say it like that, but it might as well have been her voicing her disdain.

  Are you stupid or what? Sue asked herself. How could she tell anyone about Hans? He was married. It was like her long-ago daughter; there were too many reasons for her to keep her secret.

  With a deep sigh, she tried to shift her thoughts. How would Florence get back to Blenheim? Would the nephew who drove her over to Stratford come back for her after the festivities? Sue felt awkward and nervous about the family dinner to which she, Martin, and Emily had all been invited. It seemed that Jerry had not kept any connections in Stratford once he left. All his relatives had lived elsewhere and the one friend he had retained over the long haul was Martin who had told her that he and Emily would arrive in time for the rehearsal dinner.

  It was a relief to leave the 401 and drive west along a two-lane highway through farms and fields. She parked in Stratford on the road beside the water and took a picnic cooler from the trunk. It reminded her of the times Jerry had carried it down to the river and over a small wooden bridge to a tiny island. They had often had picnics at one of the tables and sat and watched the swans on the river. Hans had said the two swans he had seen were intertwined. It would be very peaceful, so serene that you could see their reflections. He had not known what it signified. Eating her lunch, the swans became part of the ambience of the day, floating on the river followed by tiny, brown babies. One black one stood out from the others, the first she had ever seen, lending more reality to Swan Lake for her. But no tableau appeared that fit Hans’s description.