Henry's Sisters

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Henry's Sisters Page 28

by Cathy Lamb


  ‘I’ve moved to Trillium River,’ he said, ‘from Los Angeles.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because of you all,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘Never in my life will I be able to make up to you what I did. Never. I can tell you that I have always loved you. Not a day, not an hour, has gone by when I haven’t loved you all and thought of you. Not a day has gone by that I didn’t regret…’ He stopped, gathered up those rampaging, raw emotions. ‘That I didn’t regret my actions, what’s happened. I thought about staying away…’

  ‘You should have!’ Cecilia assured him. ‘You should have.’

  ‘I struggled with that, Cecilia. I did. My selfishness told me to come back, to be with you all. The other side of me said that I would be an intrusion, that coming back would hurt you all over again, cause you upheaval and pain—’

  ‘Our dad left years ago,’ Cecilia said. ‘We don’t have one. We don’t need one.’

  ‘Don’t be so mean, Cecilia,’ Janie whispered.

  ‘Ha!’ Henry darted back in. ‘Ha! My dad here! I knew it!’ He clapped his hands, then ran back to the kitchen.

  ‘I don’t want to cause you any more pain than I have,’ Dad said again. ‘I have no right to come back. I have no right to think of myself as your dad. I have not earned it, and I can never tell you how sorry I am for what I did.’ He teared up, coughed. ‘I am sorry beyond sorry. To the depths of my soul, I am sorry.’

  Cecilia’s mouth dropped open. I leant against a wall. Janie sank into a chair.

  ‘Please, I’m asking only for a chance,’ our dad said. ‘One chance to get to know you, to help you in any way that I can—’

  ‘No, God, no,’ Cecilia said, emphatic.

  ‘A chance?’ Janie asked, hope in her voice.

  ‘We needed help when we were kids, Dad—’ I said.

  ‘OK sisters and my dad! I got the cupcakes. I make grape juice,’ Henry announced. ‘Dad back! Dad back! I sit by Dad. Two guys. Me and my dad.’

  We went out to the porch for mongo-sized cupcakes and grape juice.

  Why is family life so intricately, exasperatingly, exhaustingly…complicated?

  ‘I wore my burka at Dad’s wedding,’ Kayla announced. ‘I’m exploring being a Muslim.’

  My fork fell from my hands to my plate. She’d done it! I high-fived her over the table.

  Janie, beside me, choked on her peppermint tea, and I had to pound her on the back.

  It was three days after Dad’s miraculous appearance and we Bommarito sisters were still recovering from the surprise. We had agreed that The Subject of Dad was off-limits for the night.

  ‘What’s a burka?’ Henry asked, taking another bite of spaghetti. It was, again, Spaghetti Night for the Bommarito family. We had dimmed the lights, lit the candles, and passed the noodles. And the wine.

  I exchanged a glance with Cecilia and tried not to cackle with glee. Her whole body was trembling with suppressed laughter as she studied her cranberry-and-feta-cheese salad.

  ‘I’m going out on a night flight!’ Grandma announced as she wielded garlic bread. ‘The weather’s perfect. I’m making a trip to the equator. I haven’t seen the inhabitants there for a while and I am their conquering heroess.’ She growled like an engine.

  ‘My goodness sakes, souls alive and dead,’ Velvet murmured. ‘A burka, Kayla? You mean you were covered head to foot in black? Even a black veil over your eyes? Like the Saudi women wear?’

  ‘How did your father like your burka, Kayla?’ I asked. I let some of my cackles out. Couldn’t help it.

  ‘He didn’t,’ Kayla said.

  Riley swirled a hair around her finger. She was wearing a wide red band. ‘He hated it. He hated it even more than he hates discussing molecules and molecular dynamics. Things he doesn’t understand trigger that temper of his. Short man’s complex. He’s got it.’

  ‘Did you ask your father beforehand if he would mind?’ I could barely contain myself. I wanted to stand up and cheer. Kayla. In a burka at her father’s wedding. She was a true Bommarito!

  ‘No. Do I look that dumb, Aunt Isabelle?’ Kayla said. ‘He wasn’t supportive when I became an evangelical Christian and told him he was going to hell for not accepting the Lord Jesus Christ as his saviour. He wasn’t supportive when I turned Jewish and educated him about Job and Exodus. He didn’t like hearing about Revelations ’cause he knows he’s gonna burn. He also wasn’t too nice when I was Hindu and told him he would be reincarnated into a slug based on this lifetime’s behaviour. I mean, it’s not like the guy’s open-minded to anything but cheating on Mom.’

  Cecilia blew air out of her mouth rather noisily, then stabbed the butter cube with her knife.

  Henry dropped a noodle into his mouth. He was wearing his Superman shirt. ‘Noodle woodles. I love ’em.’

  ‘Constance is a bouncy-boobed bitch,’ Kayla mused.

  ‘Don’t swear at the table, Kayla,’ Cecilia said.

  ‘Give me a break, Mom. You’ve said that word before yourself.’

  ‘You also said she’s a si—’ I put my hand over Riley’s mouth.

  ‘If it’s raining, I may have a hard time taking off tonight,’ Grandma mused, tapping her goggles. ‘Weather can be a problem. It can blind you without warning, make you feel like you’re upside down when you’re right side up.’

  ‘Upside down, right side up,’ Henry sang. ‘Upside down, right side up, topsy-turvy, topsy-turvy.’ He ate another noodle by slinging his head back and wrapping it into his mouth in circles.

  ‘So you wore your burka to the wedding, Kayla?’ Janie prodded. She pulled on the lace collar around her neck and had a sip of tea.

  ‘Jeez, Aunt Janie, give me a break.’ Riley sniffed. ‘Kayla wore the fluffy red dress to the wedding that Constance said we had to wear to be bridesmaids. We looked like Valentines on drugs. But right before Kayla was supposed to gracefully walk down the aisle in the red dress she ducks quick into a bathroom that’s right there in the atrium and as soon as she hears the music for us bridesmaids she, like, runs on out and heads up the aisle in her black burka in front of all the people.’

  I bit my tongue. I mustn’t cackle again!

  I sneaked a glance at Janie. She was covering her face with her napkin. Cecilia’s body was shaking from her laughter, her jaw clenched tight.

  Kayla looked proud as her sister continued the riveting story, starring Kayla.

  ‘I was right behind Kayla,’ Riley said, ‘and I thought Daddy was going to have a coronary and die right there, you know. He was standing up at the front of the aisle with this minister guy with a long black braid, I mean he didn’t even seem like a minister because his T-shirt was New Wave and black with a skull on it.’ She stabbed her fork into her spaghetti and twirled it around.

  ‘Then what happened?’ Janie asked.

  Velvet murmured, ‘Land sakes, child.’

  Grandma made the sound of a plane humming. Henry giggled. Spaghetti makes him laugh.

  ‘Well, so Kayla is dressed all in black, you know that burka thing,’ Riley explained, ‘and all you can see is her eyes in a slit and she’s supposed to hook elbows with one of Constance’s guy friends who was wearing a white tuxedo with a pink tie, how weird is that, plus his shoes were pink, how weird is that, but she doesn’t want to. Kayla walks up that aisle herself and when she gets to the top she climbs up the steps and stands right by Daddy.’

  Some days one is more blissfully glad to be alive than others.

  This was one of those days. I sighed with pleasure.

  ‘Daddy’s almost got his tongue hanging out he’s so shocked at first but then I can tell he’s bloody ripped,’ Riley said. ‘I mean, Mom, he is about ready to lose his head. He is, like, raging sick. I think he wants to yank Kayla on out of the building – did you know that Constance and Daddy had a hard time getting married in a church?’ She tilted her head. ‘No one would let them do it. Daddy asked Father Mike to be the priest dude and Father Mike told him that
as soon as the devil was running heaven he would marry him and Constance. They went to a couple of other churches, but the ministers wanted them to do counselling and Daddy said, “I can’t wait that long to marry my bride,” so the ministers said no. One woman minister said she wouldn’t feel “ethical” marrying them. Whatever.’

  I raised my eyebrows. Ah. Justice in the world.

  ‘So, anyhow, Kayla’s walking down in that black thing and Dad’s almost purple he’s so ticked. Mom, I didn’t know anybody at the wedding. No one. I mean, didn’t Dad have friends in town? What about the Guzinskys? What about the Shores? What about the Chins and Kuchenkos? None of them came. Did he not invite them?’

  ‘He invited them, Riley,’ Cecilia drawled.

  ‘Well, whatever. I didn’t know anybody except Weird Grandma.’ (Parker’s mother.) ‘There’s only Constance’s friends and family, but not a lot of people, you know? And they were all weird. Like, Daddy says that Constance’s brother was there straight out of the can. You know, like jail. For drugs or something. So Kayla’s standing by Dad in her black burka and I follow Kayla up the aisle in that Valentine red dress on drugs that Constance told me to wear. I looked like a walking red vein. She made me wear a hat, too, ’cause she said I’m going bald and that’s embarrassing for her because she sells hair products.’

  I breathed in deep. Oh, how I hated Constance.

  ‘So—’

  ‘I’ll tell it now,’ Kayla interrupted Riley. ‘So I’m standing, like, next to Daddy at the altar. I know he’s about ready to shit bricks so I stare down the aisle and up comes Riley and she’s right, Mom. She did look like a walking red vein wearing a hat.’

  Riley wasn’t offended. ‘Yep. I did.’

  ‘Anyhow, Constance is suddenly there and they start pounding out that boring bride music.’ Kayla took a bite of spaghetti, chewing slowly. I was on the edge of my seat.

  ‘Constance is wearing this light pink dress and her boobs are almost popping out and her make-up… I mean, come on, I mean. She’s all gooped up, but I see Dad – it’s hard to see in a burka but there’s the slit thing – and he’s all happy and he’s got this goofy expression on his face, it was gross—’

  She stopped. ‘Sorry, Mom.’

  Cecilia sniffed. ‘Who cares about that repulsive son of a—’ She closed her mouth, stabbed the butter.

  ‘Constance comes down the aisle and right before she gets to Dad she stares straight at me.’ Kayla shook her head sorrowfully, takin’ her time with the story. ‘It’s like she hadn’t even noticed me in my burka before she got up close. What am I, invisible in one of those things? So she sees me and she sort of jumps and does a little scream thing and Daddy puts his hands out and whispers, “It’s OK, it’s Kayla.” And Constance has a hand on her mongo boobs like her heart’s beating too freakin’ fast and she says, “It’s who?”’

  Kayla rolled her eyes. ‘She’s so damn dumb and right in front of all those people she says, “What are you doing in that? I bought you a dress.” And I told her the truth, that I was exploring being a Muslim and she’s all red in the face now and said, “You’re not exploring being a Muslim at my wedding.”’

  Laughter is so hard to smother when it wants to come out. So hard. I slapped both hands over my mouth.

  Janie made another choking sound.

  ‘Takeoff is soon!’ Grandma yelled. ‘I’ll need my flying papers.’

  ‘Hey! I made a mouse with my noodles!’ Henry announced. ‘A mouse!’

  ‘Constance is so mad her boobs are about ready to pop out all by themselves,’ Kayla said. She had a bite of garlic bread.

  ‘And?’ I prodded.

  ‘And she goes, “Get that black thing off or get off the damn altar.” And Dad says to me, “Kayla, take off the burka or you can’t be in the wedding. Take it off right now.”’

  Kayla ate a bite of spaghetti, wriggled around.

  She was killing me. ‘What did you say?’

  Kayla took her time swallowing and had some milk. ‘Well, first thing, Aunt Isabelle, you were right when you told me before the wedding that Dad had to respect my religious choices even on his wedding day. That was so cool.’

  Cecilia raised an eyebrow at me.

  Janie studied the table, then took a wee sip of tea. Janie had been there when I had encouraged Kayla to ‘defend your freedoms, in particular your religious freedoms, at all costs, even in the face of opposition from others, in particular, your father. Be true to yourself and your beliefs, especially if someone, your father, is trying to squash them!’

  Kayla took another slow bite. She knew how to pause for drama! ‘So, yeah, then I told my dad, OK, I’ll take the burka off.’

  ‘So you changed?’ I asked. I was crushed. I struggled with my disappointment at Kayla’s easy acquiescence. Where was her fortitude? What happened to the rebel? Where was her Bommarito fighting spirit?

  Kayla took another bite of spaghetti. ‘I’m an obedient child. So, yes. I changed.’

  She took another gulp of milk.

  ‘And?’ Janie breathed.

  ‘I first took off the black veil thing right there on the altar and then I took off my burka.’

  Riley started to giggle. ‘That was the best part. The best.’

  ‘What were you wearing underneath?’ Janie asked, her tea cup frozen in mid-air. ‘The red dress?’

  ‘What was I wearing?’ Kayla asked. She took her time chewing some garlic bread. Swallowed. ‘I was wearing my favourite outfit.’

  ‘And that outfit would be?’ I prodded.

  She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. ‘I was wearing my pink T-shirt that says “Fuck Off” and my short-short jean shorts.’

  Velvet started the laughter first, Southern style. ‘Oh me, oh my. Oh me.’ She fanned herself. ‘That’s funnier than a skunk on the loose!’

  Cecilia laughed so hard she sounded like a donkey. Janie and I eventually had to lean on each other to stay propped up.

  Henry laughed because we were laughing. ‘Noodles!’

  ‘Then I jumped off the altar and the walking red vein girl followed me – sorry, Riley – and we went right to the reception, where there was a bunch of food.’

  ‘So neither one of you saw your dad get married?’ I garbled out.

  ‘Nope. I got right back into my burka at the reception when Constance boomed on in,’ Kayla said. ‘Dad was so mad. He said I ruined the ceremony. Constance was so mad one of her boobs almost came out and I said, “Constance, stick your right boob back in, it’s out and about,” and that made her throw her flowers at my face. Whatever. After they left for the honeymoon, I didn’t feel like being a Muslim anymore, so I threw off the burka and me and Riley danced for about two hours and had more wedding cake. The guy with the pink tie danced awesome cool. He taught us some new moves.’

  ‘Weddings are stupid,’ Riley said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Kayla agreed.

  A burka.

  At Parker’s wedding.

  She was a true Bommarito. So was her sister. I was so proud!

  I damn near fell out of my chair I laughed so hard.

  ‘Hold on, passengers!’ Grandma screamed suddenly. ‘Hold on!’ She leapt on the table, grabbing the controls of her imaginary plane.

  We turned our chairs, threw our napkins on our heads, and braced for a crash.

  ‘Don’t worry!’ Grandma reassured us. ‘We’ll get through this weather!’

  Indeed we would.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Not surprisingly, the murdering our dad did weighed on our minds, so we had to clear up the wee issue of the killing before we let him back into our lives even an inch.

  He invited me, Janie, and the still angry/reluctant Cecilia to a classy French restaurant in town. Over white linens and wine, for me and Cecilia, chamomile tea for Janie, and water for our dad – he doesn’t drink alcohol – we got the full story.

  ‘So, who did you kill and why did you kill him?’ I asked, after our orders were taken. I beli
eve in being blunt.

  ‘I had had too much to drink in a bar in Sausalito,’ he said, the candlelight softening his scar. ‘Drinking was the way I numbed much of my life. It was cowardly and stupid. I hated myself and what I’d done in ’Nam and what I’d seen done. Alcohol smoothed the edges, but it was a weak excuse for a weak man.’

  I leant back in the booth. He certainly did not try to soften things up.

  Janie took sugar packets out and started to sort.

  Cecilia humphed in her seat and crossed her arms.

  ‘I had a disagreement with a man because he was hitting on a woman next to me and the woman was trying to get rid of him. He reached and grabbed her and I reacted. I was always angry, always looking for a fight back then, and I’d had many. I hit him first and we fought knuckle to knuckle. All of a sudden I saw a Vietnamese soldier in front of me instead of that guy. In my head, I was back in ’Nam and apparently started whaling on him. I should have stopped, but I didn’t. I hardly remember. He was in a critical condition, then died. I was sent to jail for fifteen years. Rightly so.’

  ‘Great!’ Cecilia said. ‘Now we can worry that you’re going to come after us. Super! A murdering dad.’

  ‘Cecilia,’ I said. ‘Stop.’

  ‘Why? Why should I stop?’ She sounded tough, our ol’ Cecilia, but she was fighting back another round of sobs, I knew it.

  My heart was thumping because hers was, and I patted my chest. ‘Stop because my heart’s pounding and I can’t take it.’

  She wrinkled her nose up at me, but she started deep breathing, eyes closed.

  Janie shook the sugar packets. ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘In jail I obviously had a lot of time to think.’

  ‘Obviously,’ Cecilia drawled, eyes still closed.

  ‘I had killed a man and thought the guilt would drive me out of my mind. I had killed who knows how many Vietnamese soldiers during the war who probably had no more desire to be there than me. That guilt ground its way into all the waking moments of my life. I felt guilty because I lived and so many of my buddies there didn’t, and I felt I didn’t deserve to be alive. I felt guilty about the innocent civilians who were caught in the cross fire. I felt guilty about leaving you all and River. I loved you.’ He paused. ‘I still love you. My guilt about killed me.’

 

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