by C. T. Musca
“She just got back last week and she’ll be here for about another week.”
“That’s good. Does she like Nova Scotia?”
“She loves it there. She just got a part-time job at the pub in the university, which is why she has to go back next week.”
“That’s good. Tell her I say hi.” They were never friends but they know we are, so they always ask about one another.
“Yeah, I will. Ton, do you think Dan’s gonna be there tonight?” She switches the subject, which is something she is used to doing when the topic of her sister comes up. Dan is a guy in twelfth grade who Amanda is interested in. He is athletic, smart, and popular, but I think he is really unattractive. I am not sure what she sees in him, or why he is so popular. He is kinda a jerk with girls, too, I’ve heard. He dates them just long enough to have sex with them, and then he dumps them. I worry that Amanda will be his next conquest. And the thing is she can do so much better. I am sure she could have any one of the guys in our grade, but for some reason she’s got her sights on this one.
“I don’t know. Is he still with Cassie?” I ask it knowing full well that he is no longer dating his most recent victim. Maybe the very mention of her name will remind Amanda how he treats his girlfriends. Unlikely.
“No, they broke up,” she says with a seductive smile.
We pull up to Pete’s house and there are people smoking on the front porch and the music is blaring; luckily I didn’t get one of my parents to drop us off. I thank Jeremy, and we’re out the door. Jeremy rolls down the window.
“Hey guys, will you need me to pick you up tonight?”
“Naah, we’re staying overnight at Kaitlyn’s and we’ll find a ride there later. Thanks, though. See you tomorrow.”
Amanda and I make our way in to find our group of friends. We see them and begin mixing our drinks: orange juice and peach schnapps. We see Dan talking to a girl in his grade, a girl my mom would refer to as “loose.” I can see that it bothers Amanda, because she downs her drink and repeatedly looks over at them.
Kaitlyn comes in and walks over to us, and it’s immediately clear that she is upset.
“Kait, is something wrong?”
“I had a fight with my mom. She’s always on my case. Her new boyfriend, Adam, was there and I think she was trying to impress him or something. She was going on about being ‘an active member of the family’. What a joke! She’s the one who’s rarely there.”
“Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?” I am not really sure how to comfort her, other than just being there and listening.
“Not really. It just frustrates me, that’s all. Anyway, let’s just have fun tonight, okay?”
“Deal.”
By eleven o’clock we are nearly done our stash of booze and need to bum off of our friends. This night is going to be messy.
Fall 2010
Ican feel the tears welling up inside of me. I don’t know when that started, but anytime I get mad now, I feel like crying. It is very annoying knowing that if I address how I am feeling with Dr. Roerke, I will turn into a blubbering mess—definitely not something I am going to allow myself to do. It’s just better to keep it inside: a lesson I learned many years ago.
“Tonya, why didn’t you smile at him or something? I think you scared him off!” Cindy has evidently joined Dr. Roerke’s crusade to find me a boyfriend.
“Guys! I’m seeing someone. I really don’t need any help.” This lie is getting old; I wonder if anyone actually believes it. I never bring anyone to functions, I never receive personal phone calls like Cindy does, and I definitely don’t talk about anyone. Maybe I’ll have to start if I want them to believe me.
I go to the washroom to compose myself, and as I do, I see Patrick speaking with Deb. It is not unusual to see someone in this office talking to someone else, but there is just something about the way they are being so secretive. I can’t really make out what is being said but I do hear Deb say, “I had no idea. When did you find out?” Then they notice me and stop whispering. Patrick moves back towards the front desk.
Before the end of the day I get an e-mail from my sister, who is in town for the weekend. She has just arrived and asks me if she should pick anything up for supper. She comes up usually once a year and I go to see her in Montreal two or three times a year. It’s easier for me to go there because I don’t have a family. She is recently divorced and has a five-year-old. I tell her that I’ll be there shortly so we can decide on dinner. I usually finish early on Fridays and Patrick stays until closing. After the Aaron incident, I am more than ready to get out of there. I make sure Dr. Roerke is all right with me heading out, seeing as my sister’s here.
“Go have fun with your sister. Maybe she’ll have more luck finding you a stand-up guy!” he laughs.
I pack up my things and wish everyone a nice weekend. Once I leave the office, I feel my muscles relax and realize that I must have been tense all afternoon. As I walk to the bus stop, I am unable to stop the deluge of tears that were locked up inside of me earlier.
“Hey, Sandy!” I walk in, thrilled to see my sister.
“Hello, Ton.” She comes to the door and gives me a big hug.
We catch up on all of the little things we haven’t discussed since the last time we spoke, which is about three months ago. I am not much of a phone person, and I never get on the computer once I am home from work. We talk about Dale, her ex, who she found out was having an affair with a woman from work. Vivian is her name and Sandy pronounces it in a way that illustrates her dislike of the woman. Dale teaches seventh grade, and Vivian is a guidance counsellor at the same school. Dale moved into her place after he left Sandy and she says they are still together. Their daughter, Anna, is the spitting image of Sandra and goes between homes from week to week. I don’t see her much, which is a shame; she is a great kid. She’s funny, just like her mom was when she was younger.
Sandy went to college to become an educational assistant. She met Dale at the first school she worked in before she got moved to a high school just outside of Montreal. They only dated for about six months before they announced they were getting married. I never really liked Dale. He seemed so arrogant to me, but of course, I never said anything. I saw why she was attracted to him—he was very good-looking, with dark wavy hair and dark eyes. He cared a great deal about being in shape, which was obvious, especially when he wore tight-fitting T-shirts. He often had an unshaven face, which gave me the impression that he carefully manipulated this scruffy look. He wore name-brand clothes and shoes and was always up-to-date with the latest fashion trends, although he’d act like he didn’t really care about any of that stuff. When she found out he was cheating—although she’d had her suspicions for a while—Sandy was devastated. She said he was the only man she had ever loved. She worried about Anna, knowing that kids from broken homes tend to have more difficulties in school. That was just over a year ago and she is still heartbroken over the whole ordeal.
“How’s Anna?” I ask.
“She’s awesome—such a mature little girl. She just started first grade, and she’s adjusting well. I’m not crazy about her being with Vivian every other weekend, but there is not much I can do about that.”
“Do you ever see her or talk to her?”
“No, not often. Dale makes sure he comes alone when he picks up Anna. There was this one time about a month ago, though, I couldn’t hold my tongue. She brought her to see a Robin Hood movie that was definitely not appropriate for a five-year-old. This was the third time she’s brought her to a non-G-rated movie. Anna was so frightened at night that she had to sleep with me. I e-mailed Vivian the next day and Dale called me within a few hours. He said if I had any problems to go through him, because Vivian was ‘pretty distressed’ by my words. Whatever, she’s a whore, anyway.”
“It must be hard having to deal with another person raising your child.”
“You have no idea.”
I really don’t.
We end
up ordering in a pizza and decide we’ll go out tomorrow instead. We stay up until midnight talking.
She talks a great deal about Dale and it’s obvious that she’s not over him. “You know what I miss most? It’s going to sound trivial to you, I’m sure, but it was our breakfasts together as a family on the weekends. We’d go to the bagel shop down the street and just sit, talk, drink our coffee, and enjoy Anna’s company. I still get sad when I see that place.”
“I don’t think it sounds trivial; it makes perfect sense that you’d miss the little things. You were a happy family, and now you’re not. It must be tough.” I’m not sure if my comments help her or make her feel worse. I decide to just be there for her and listen. And, besides, who am I to comment on the topic of serious relationships?
We wake up on Saturday and go to the market to buy fresh vegetables for lunch. We go for a coffee and then play tennis in the afternoon. It’s so nice and easy being with Sandy. I wish we lived closer. I know I could make more of an effort to see my sister, but time has a way of passing by so quickly. And the excuses I make appear so credible at the time, but seem so weak and insignificant when I look back on them. I think of my sister often and regret that we’re not closer.
“So are you dating anyone, Ton?” And there it is, like everyone else, she too wants to know. It’s the question of the century.
“Not really, no. Are you still going to the gym?” I try to change the subject.
“You know, I understand better than anyone that it’s good to be cautious, but I think you’re being too picky. I mean, there are a lot of good guys out there. What about that Jake or Jason guy you were seeing?” She won’t bite on my question.
Jason was a guy I had made up to get out of going to my cousin’s wedding. I had said we were attending his high school reunion in London and had already booked a flight and hotel. I don’t usually lie to Sandy, but it was more a lie for everyone—my whole family, extended included.
“Oh, things didn’t work out. He was nice enough, but we just didn’t really have a whole lot in common.” I hate lying.
“I think you need to be a little easier on these guys or else you’ll never find someone,” she warns, as though being alone is not an option.
“I know, Sandy. I wish people would just leave me be. I’ll date when I’m ready. It’s really nobody’s business.” I regret it once I say it.
“Can we head home? I need to shower before dinner,” she asks, and I can tell that she’s hurt. I know she cares about me and just wants me to have someone special in my life, but after the day I had yesterday—and the night before, with Rosanna—I am frustrated. But I let it go. I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, so why bring it up again?
We get ready for dinner and I pour us each a glass of wine. Once we’re ready we sit down on the couch to figure out where we’ll go. We decide on Vietnamese. There’s a quaint little restaurant within walking distance. There aren’t many people in the restaurant, so grabbing a table isn’t a problem. We settle down, order a half litre of wine, and peruse the menu. The decor in the restaurant is what you’d find in many Asian restaurants here: pictures of Asian women gardening, paper fans on the walls, and fake plastic roses in vases at each table. I wonder if these “flowers” have ever been washed, because I notice dust on the leaves and a splash of some sort of sauce on the petals.
At the table next to us is a couple with a baby who is only a few months old. The baby is fussing and the parents are doing everything they can to console their child. I have to wonder why on earth they’d come out to dinner on a Saturday night with a newborn. Do they miss their old life so much that they feel the necessity to cling to some semblance of the good old days? In the meantime, everyone around them is annoyed by the crying, and although the waitress says how cute the baby is, it’s obvious that she too is irritated.
The thought of caring for a baby is so foreign to me. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do to console a newborn. I remember when Sandy first had her baby, she was insulted that I didn’t want to hold Anna more than I did. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my niece; I just had no idea how to hold a baby and it felt unnatural to me. My sister eventually came to understand that it was nothing personal.
I am nudged back to my table when my sister speaks. “So, have you spoken to Dad lately?”
“Not since his birthday, you?” I feel guilty when I realize that his birthday was over a month and a half ago.
“Yeah, I spoke to him a few days ago,” she says. “He’s doing all right. He signed up for two classes at the community centre. One is a computer course, which he definitely needs. I think it’ll be good for him to get out—that is, if he goes. Remember when he signed up for that wine-tasting course and went once and never again? I think it was too soon for him. Now, he seems to be ready to go out and meet new people.”
“I hope so. I should call him.”
“Uncle Jack has been really good. He always tries to get Dad out. Have you seen him at all?”
“No, I haven’t.” I reach for my wine and end up knocking over Sandy’s glass. Her wine spills onto her lap. I leap up.
“Oh my God! I am so sorry, Sandy.”
“That’s okay. My napkin absorbed most of it. Luckily, it was white.” The waitress comes up with a cloth to wipe the table. She asks us if we’d like more wine. I say of course, before my sister has a chance to respond.
We spend the next few hours eating and drinking and talking. We reminisce about the family vacations we went on when we were small and all together. I am not sure if it is the wine or the memories or both, but we end the night with tears in our eyes.
Summer 1989
Iam awakened by the sound of a dog sniffing my things. I look around and remember that I am at Kaitlyn’s. My head is pounding and my mouth feels like a desert. I need some water. The water here tastes disgusting, as Kaitlyn’s mom lives just outside of town and is on a well system. I have no idea what they put in their water, but it’s yellow, it smells, and it doesn’t taste like water. I look at the bed beside me—Kaitlyn’s still sleeping. I get up to get a drink in the kitchen. Kaitlyn’s mom must already be at work. The kitchen is a mess and there are dirty dishes everywhere. Her dog, Buddy, follows me to the kitchen as though he anticipates me feeding him. I see his bowl is empty and look around for his food. I check out every cupboard, but I can’t find where they keep the food. I suppose Buddy will just have to wait until Kaitlyn wakes up.
I have to find something to drink. I check the fridge and there is only milk, which I hate. I look in the cupboards for a packet of Kool-Aid or something that I can use to flavour the water, but if I can’t find dog food, I’m sure I’m not going to find that. I do find Coke, but after the rye and Cokes I had last night—some guy referred to as “Tiff ” made me some really strong drinks—that’s the last thing I’d want to drink. So my options are: bad-tasting water, Coke, or cream. Hmmm. My mouth is pasty and needs something. I finally notice a pot of coffee. Kaitlyn’s mom probably made it this morning before work and forgot to turn it off. I fix it with cream and a lot of sugar so that it’s drinkable. I start to sip it and find that because I am so thirsty I can’t stop gulping it, even though it’s hot. Within seconds, it’s gone.
“Morning.” It’s Amanda; she slept in the spare room. She looks tired and hung-over, and I’m sure I look the same.
“Good morning. How are you feeling?”
“Not great, you?”
“I’m a little nauseated and my head is pounding,” I say. “Do you want to wake up Kait or should we just call my brother to come and get us?”
“Let’s call Jer. I don’t want to spend my day here.”
So I call my brother and ask him to pick us up. We leave Kaitlyn a note. She’ll probably sleep until noon anyway.
I know that Amanda and I are going to talk, in detail, about last night’s events, but we both wait until we’re at my place. That way we can sit down, uninterrupted, and chat. Once we say hello to my mom,
we head into my room.
I start. “So, how do you feel? Any different?”
“No, not really.”
“Did it hurt?”
“A little bit. It was better than I thought it’d be. He was gentle.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess. Are you guys dating now?”
“We didn’t really say. He said he’d call me today, though. I probably should get home just in case he wants to hang out.”
“Oh, okay.” I am taken aback. I thought she’d spend the day here, which is often what we do together after a night out. “Is someone at your house to pick you up?”
“Yeah, I’ll call Trish.”
When her sister arrives, she says she’ll call me later and keep me posted.
Maybe eating something will make me feel better. My sister is in the kitchen, and offers to make something for me. At the beginning of the summer, she made a ‘menu’ that anyone in the family could order from. Her ‘restaurant’ is called Sandy’s Café and the menu items include sandwiches, soup, salad, and cereal. There is no cooking involved, but with the way I am feeling, I will pay the seventy-five cents to be served some Mini-Wheats.
“Are you packed for the cottage?” she asks me as she brings over my order.
Every summer we rent a cottage on Trout Lake for two weeks. I used to love going swimming, hiking, boating, but now I would rather just stay here with my friends. My parents love our cottage time together before they have to go back to work. They only get three weeks off a year, so they cherish these two weeks. We play lots of board games and cards, and even hang out with the people from the cottages around us. Uncle Jack has joined us ever since his wife left him and he, too, treasures this vacation.