Botero's Beautiful Horses

by Jan Conn

  Trust me. Just trust me.

  Stacey wasn’t sure she could remember all that happened next. She guided him inside her, and he pounded his body on top of hers, frantic, like the world would end soon and only he knew about it. It didn’t take long. That’s the part she remembered long after. It didn’t take as long as she wanted it to.

  Are you okay? he asked.

  Yes, she said. Thanks for asking. She leaned forward and saw Sage sitting in his chair, his face all scrunched up as if he had a bad toothache. She didn’t want Hugh to see his face. That would ruin everything. She wrapped her arms around Hugh and held him right where he was when he’d groaned like an animal that had given up on life, a position she would remember forever.

  26

  Stacey hadn’t fallen asleep right away, and then she fell into a deep sleep, which explained why she woke late, in a panic to get to school on time. She had a quick shower and washed her diaphragm. The song “Puff the Magic Dragon” was inside her head and wouldn’t leave her alone. She thought of her Aunt Sadie and wished she were around now so they could discuss all that had happened, and Aunt Sadie would be the perfect sounding board. She considered what to wear to school and wished she had some new clothes because she felt like a new person. She chose the same top and skirt she’d worn the night before. It would encourage her dreamlike state to continue. She made a tuna sandwich for lunch and cut it into four equal sections as usual, then threw two pieces of celery into her lunch bag. The house became a crossroads then, her trying to leave in a hurry, Belle the no-nonsense-nurse arriving earlier than usual and Della welcoming her wards at the front door. Della hadn’t had time to get Sage to the washroom yet, and when Belle arrived, Sage was worse than usual. He’d messed his adult diaper right where he sat, which didn’t impress Belle. Stacey left immediately, leaving her mother to answer the nurse’s pointed questions.

  She felt a slight movement of air as she walked down the street, a gentle breeze that made walking effortless. Though she wore the same clothes as the night before, it felt like she wasn’t wearing clothes at all, as if people could see inside her in a way never before possible. Mr. Partridge, her biology teacher, would notice for sure. He often went on about the angst animals feel before rutting season. He would notice a difference in her, and when he did, she would smile back with a controlled smile, one that suggested that yes, he was right, but she had everything under control. She found it thrilling, this new way of knowing the world, one that took away forever a younger self that could slip in and out of serious scrutiny. Power bestowed and innocence lost.

  Part of her wanted to see Hugh, but another part of her wished she were on her way out of town for the summer so she wouldn’t run into him for months. She didn’t feel what Amber and Morgan felt, not even close. Hugh would want to do it again and soon, but Stacey didn’t feel that way. It had been an experience bound to happen, and now she wanted the waters to calm once again. Aunt Sadie told her that people are more like dogs when it comes to sex than most people think. Male dogs are always on the lookout for females in heat, and when they find one, they’re relentless. She would be friendly around Hugh, work with him in the Environmental Club, but he would get the message loud and clear she wasn’t the young woman in heat he wanted.

  She would enjoy her first day after in her present elevated state of mind, one that left her head feeling empty but not completely empty, occupied as it was with all she now knew. On a whim, she could turn her attention to her recent history and feel a sense of exhilaration all over again. That was her plan for the day, and it might have worked out that way except that as soon as she walked through the school doors, she saw Amber by her locker, waiting for her. Amber said, You and I have something to talk about, so I hear.

  For most of her life, Stacey had listened to her mother offer the wisdom of her years, sometimes spontaneously, sometimes in helpful sessions. Her mother knew what it was like to attend school for the first time, to sleep over at a friend’s house, to have chores around the place that must be done. She had made a few mistakes along the way, and she wanted Stacey to avoid the same fate. With Sage back home, these sessions became infrequent, and when Stacey arrived late from school and sat down with her mother, it felt like their roles had reversed.

  I shouldn’t have gone off for such a long time, Della said. I shouldn’t be trundling off like that and leaving him alone. Belle says something is wearing on him, something that wasn’t there when they first brought him home.

  So, Belle, who drops in three times a week for an hour, is telling you it’s your job to stand beside his chair day and night? That’s ridiculous. Is that what she’s saying?

  I guess that’s what she’s implying. It’s hard on your dad, sitting there, watching life around him but not being able to participate. I’m busy most of the day, and most evenings he disappears with Hart. I think she’s suggesting I need to do more.

  There’s not much he can do anyway, Stacey said. You know that. He sits there and watches TV and points to the word water. It’s a terrible life for sure, but you standing beside him will not make it any better. If you tell Hart not to come and get him out of the house, it will only make things worse. Mom, stop thinking this way. You work all day. You’ve got to have a life too.

  Della cried and Stacey watched her cry. It wasn’t like her mother to cry about much of anything. She had being stoic down to an art.

  He wrote something on his pad, Della said. After the nurse got him cleaned up and exercised and sat down again. He wrote I want to die.

  Now it was Stacey’s turn to become emotional. She rarely cried, and she wasn’t about to tell her mother why she had started now. For all the months Sage sat there, like a vegetable, she had thought of him that way: a man with no feelings and nothing to say for himself. She realized now she had been wrong. He may not have been able to express himself, but he was thinking about everything that went on around the house, including his observations of her. She hadn’t fallen asleep for a long time that night after Hugh had left. She had lain thinking about what had happened. She imagined what he would have had to say had he been tied down in a chair in the living room but not suffering from a stroke, and she knew he would have yelled and sworn so the entire neighbourhood would have known what was going on behind closed doors. In the scene she imagined, she would have had plenty to say back to him. She would have told him all those years he leered at her, walked in on her having a bath and climbed into bed with her after she’d fallen asleep were acts of a deranged predator, and if he didn’t like what he’d just witnessed, it was too bloody bad. This was what people did, not with their fathers but with someone of their own choosing. The vehemence of her thoughts that night felt justified, and she’d fallen asleep regarding what had happened as more than reasonable. Now, watching her mother emotionally muddled, Stacey realized she’d gone too far. She sensed questions in the air, questions she felt unprepared to deal with.

  When summer began, both Stacey and Amber secured jobs working at the golf course. Stacey drove a refreshment cart from hole to hole and found if she wore a short skirt and a tank top, her tips almost equaled her wages. Amber worked inside, sometimes signing people in and other times working in the back of the kitchen. For the first few weeks, both girls felt like this was the life they were intended to live. They had crossed over into the working world, they had money in their pockets and the esteem of other adults. Within a matter of days, Stacey’s ebullient state came to an abrupt halt.

  Several meetings had taken place regarding Sage’s state of ill health. Both Della and Stacey met separately with his doctor. Della implemented changes and asked Stacey to cooperate. They agreed that on Sunday nights, designated as movie nights, the three of them would take turns picking out a movie to rent for the evening. One week, Sage, after being presented with a list, asked for Top Gun, and they invited Hart and Molly over to watch it with them. Once, when it was Della’s turn, she rented Crocodile Dundee, and Stacey knew it was because she though
t Sage would be interested. Stacey wasn’t as patronizing, but her choices avoided movies with lavish sex scenes. Della took her nightly walk but shortened it to a half hour at most. Stacey told her it was an absurd sacrifice because on many nights, by the time she got back from her walk, Sage had already gone to Fort Whoop. Della’s cooking became plainer than usual, after the doctor suggested that rich foods were more likely to upset Sage’s stomach. On Sunday nights, they ordered pizza. Sage didn’t appear to get any better with the adjustments around the house, but he scrunched up his face like a prune less often than he had. Because Stacey was having the time of her life with work and friends, it wasn’t until one night Della asked her to cook supper in her stead that she noticed her mother slowing down. Two days later, she went to see her doctor, who ordered tests run. They found blood in her stool, and ten days later the doctor informed Della she had stomach cancer.

  Della’s local doctor gave her the news after days of medical consultation with doctors from Calgary where the tests had been conducted. The cancer had spread to her liver, so there would be nothing to gain from an operation. Stage IV cancer, they said, a term that sounded definitive but meant nothing to Della. They recommended chemotherapy but she refused. She knew people who had gone through chemo, and unless she saw hope at the end of it all, she wasn’t interested.

  The babysitting business shut down, and parents scrambled for daycare. Stacey said she would quit her job at the golf course and stay home and take over with the babysitting, but Della said that would only offer a temporary solution. Della felt weak but able to carry on when she returned from Calgary. Stacey cooked most of the meals and stayed in most evenings to be with her mother. Sage became the big concern. Stacey would soon return to school, and Della couldn’t provide for him much longer. Della knew she would have to find an alternative, and soon, because Stacey refused to be in the house with Sage unless Della were with her.

  She informed Molly and Hart, though it was plain Molly the Nose got wind of their circumstance before they volunteered the information. Molly came over to chat every afternoon, brew green tea for Della and spearhead a search for someplace suitable for Sage. Within two weeks, she had a list of two places in town that might work, and she drove Della to view them both. Tom Uphill Memorial Manor offered assisted living, but it would take all of Sage’s company insurance payment to cover it. Della explained to Hart that she didn’t have life insurance coverage of any kind, and he looked down at his feet when he heard the news.

  It wasn’t until a direction had been decided, with only a timeline yet to be determined, that the news reached Sage. He knew something was out of kilter, but each time he asked a question with his writing pad, he received only a pat and evasive answer. Finally Della realized he deserved to know what was happening to his wife.

  I have to tell you something you don’t want to hear. It’s bad news, and I know you’ve had enough of that already to last a lifetime. I’m not well. I have cancer in fact. Cancer of the stomach. The doctor says there are things they can do to ward off the pain, but there’s nothing to be done about it otherwise. It’s spread. That’s what they say.

  Stacey stood in the kitchen listening to her mother’s explanation. Her mother said what she had to and then became emotional. Stacey went to her room and closed the door.

  I can stay home, at least they think I can. They’ll have nurses come by, and there’s a chance Sadie will come. I haven’t asked her yet. I know you would do what you could, but you can’t do anything, and soon I won’t be able to help you much at all. That’s why it means you’ll need to move out of here, but to a nice place. I visited it myself, and I think you’ll like it. It’s called the Tom Uphill Memorial Manor. I know you’ve driven by it before. They’ll take care of you there.

  Della watched her husband’s face. He understood everything, that much was clear by the tears that trickled down his cheek. His one eye wasn’t much for seeing but was still capable of showing grief.

  I’m not sure what will happen with Stacey at this point. It’s best she stays here, of course, but that will depend on whether Aunt Sadie can come to live. All the money from your insurance will be needed for Uphill Manor. I know it’s hard to face all of this, but some hard decisions must be made for Stacey’s sake. We promised to bring her up, and she’s almost there, but we’re going to need some help. We both thought she’d grow up and move away and we would grow old together. That’s not going to happen now.

  Lucky was lying prone on the rug while Della explained. Part way through, he got up and put his muzzle on her leg, as if hoping that might help. By the time she had shared all her information, he had moved over to lay his head on Sage’s left leg, the one place he would be petted.

  27

  In september, school began as it always had, but Stacey wasn’t as excited as she should have been about the prospect of clearing away one more of life’s hurdles. As much as she disliked getting up every morning to go through the routine of school and saying goodbye to her mother, school was a haven and a chance to clear her mind, sometimes for an hour or two at a time. They moved Sage to Uphill Manor before the long weekend, and Della stayed home alone, and day by day, less of her lived there. Stacey came home one afternoon from school and found her mother out in the backyard watching the leaves fall to Earth.

  They had seen no sign of Aunt Sadie, and Stacey thought that odd. Despite the differences between the sisters, she felt certain that, at a time like this, previous missteps would be set aside. She questioned her mother every day or two until Della admitted she hadn’t yet written to her sister to ask for help. Sadie would be busy, Della rationalized. And besides, she said, Sadie’s life is enough of a burden, and there’s still time before I go adding to it.

  The time part bothered Stacey. It kept her awake at night. She didn’t know how many days her mother had left, but it was scary to see her losing weight and growing more frail by the day. One night, after Della had fallen asleep early, she rifled through their most recent address book and wrote a long letter to Aunt Sadie, explaining everything and asking her to help immediately. Five days later, Stacey arrived home to find a red Mercedes convertible parked in front of the house.

  Aunt Sadie had been in the house less than an hour. There had been tears spilled during that short time, but after that she became indomitable in her care for Della. In the average-sized bedroom where Della slept, the double bed, when pushed against the wall, left room for a motorized hospital bed that Sadie rented month by month. This allowed Della to get up when she felt like it and rest in various elevated positions when she wanted to stay in bed. Aunt Sadie said she would sleep in the bed against the wall and be there if needed in the middle of the night. Her second night there, after Stacey cooked supper, Aunt Sadie suggested Della lay down for a while and went into the bedroom with her and closed the door. They talked for a long time, just the two of them, while Stacey did her homework.

  Well, kiddo, not the way anyone wanted life to work out now, is it? Your mother says you’ve been such a help, and she’s so proud of you. I guess you learn soon enough that shit can appear on both ends of a shovel. I will be staying here and doing whatever needs doing. It’s good you wrote when you did. Your mom worries about your schooling. She’s right, you know. These are tough times, but if you don’t graduate, you’ll be halfway down the rabbit hole before you can blink. I’m not the world’s greatest chef as you’re about to find out, but I’ll have supper ready every night so don’t worry about hurrying home from school. How’s school going by the way?

  Fine.

  Well, that’s good. If you need me to go to the school for anything, just ask. I’ve never had kids, as you know, so this is all new to me.

  You know what sucks so much about all this? Morgan’s dad says we’re one or two generations away, maybe less, from not having to die. He says scientists will have vaccines that people get every ten years, and they’ll get to stay young for as long as they want. If we lived in that world now, Mom might
only be twenty-five and not have gotten sick at all.

  Well, the way I see it, there’s no use wishing for what we can’t have. Things will be different in the future, but right now our only choice is to be practical. That nurse Belle is something, now isn’t she? I like no-nonsense people when I can find them. I think she would have excelled in the army, that one. Anyway, I think I have your mom’s medications down, and we will see she’s in as little pain as possible. We’ll do what we can, the two of us, to make sure she gets what she needs for however long she’s got. You up for it?

  Yes. And thank you for doing this.

  One thing you’ll find out eventually: there’s neglect in every family. The way things worked out, this family had more than its share. I can’t make up for the years gone by, but I promise to do what I can now.

  Della insisted she wanted to live life as close to normal as she had the energy to accomplish. The three of them went out at least once a week for the first while in Della’s car so that Stacey could practise her driving. Della sat in the back seat and let Sadie sit up front. Chances were it would be Sadie who would witness Stacey getting her licence, and she might as well learn what she was up against.

  Every Wednesday, Della wanted to visit Sage at Uphill Manor, so Sadie and Della made a point of arriving about three in the afternoon and spent a half hour telling him anything new they could think of, mostly updates on Stacey’s school performance, and they avoided any talk about how Della faired. Sage could see by her gaunt appearance that Della was fading quickly, and he got emotionally wound up if Della and Sadie didn’t keep talking to distract him. One day, as they were about to leave, he held out his hand for them to wait and grabbed the pen and wrote three words on his pad. Sorry for everything. Della cried with her head on his shoulder, while Sadie rubbed her back. Della composed herself and told Sage they would be back next week as usual, but it felt like a lie. She knew her goodbye would have to last forever.