Carrie stared ahead at the garden. “I think it’s clear. She didn’t want to believe that Charles could be responsible for treating Mr. Gillis the way that Kevin said. And I guess neither could you. So she was doing something about it.”
Jeanne watched as Carrie mindlessly adjusted one of her slippers on her foot. Her words struck deep. “You seem bothered,” she said quietly.
“What? No,” Carrie answered. “I’m fine.”
“Then, it’s not what you’re saying, it’s your tone. As I recall, you had a few words about my tone a while ago. Perhaps it’s genetic,” she said with a half-smile.
Carrie sighed and rubbed her face with both hands. “This has gotten out of hand, Jeanne. It’s more than I could have anticipated.”
Jeanne was puzzled. “Out of hand? What has been? For whom?”
Despite her better judgment, Carrie could not hold back. “All this drama about Charles and Virginia and now the Boland family. It’s all too much.”
“For you.” It was more of a statement than a question.
But Carrie agreed. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I just shared what I had heard with Hannah. I didn’t intend to upset her. It was her decision to find out more. She doesn’t seem to be bothered. If anything, she seems energized.”
Carrie sighed heavily and pulled on the strings of her hoodie. “I appreciate your invitation to stay here, Jeanne, and making us comfortable. We couldn’t have had it any better. It’s just that I didn’t expect to get involved in the lives of people I’ve never met, people who are long since gone. I don’t understand what anything they did has to do with who we are now. Can’t we just live day to day and move on? Why dwell on what was?” Her tone had changed from cutting to pleading.
Jeanne had not expected the observation. For the first time she realized the extent that her own presence in Hannah’s life had impacted Carrie’s as well. She pondered Carrie’s words. What Hannah had feared about coming in here, about upsetting the family, Joe and Lauren, by reviving memories long forgotten, had come true.
“I’m sorry. I just assumed you were happy meeting your niece and nephew. I didn’t realize how much your world had been upset by it all.”
“I am very happy to meet my niece and nephew, but I’m the one who has to answer the questions in Falcon Cove, Jeanne. I’m the one who had to explain who Charles Sinclair was and justify why you waited until this year, thirty-five years after you found out, to find your mother. And by the way, the excuse I gave was that you didn’t want to embarrass your father while he was alive. I trust that’s accurate. And that brings up another point, doesn’t it? As one elderly lady in the congregation said to me at the door after a morning service, ‘He wasn’t much of a man if he saw Hannah Parsons as an embarrassment.’ That’s what I’ve had to deal with, Jeanne. By the way, Mother knows nothing of this, and I prefer to keep it that way.”
“Of course,” Jeanne muttered under her breath. Her stomach churned as she took in Carrie’s words. “I didn’t know. You shouldn’t have to explain what happened to anyone, Carrie. You just happen to be in the place where people think they can say anything to you and you have inner strength because of what you do.”
Carrie sipped her tea and finished her two cookies without speaking.
Jeanne wiped the condensation off her glass of iced tea with her napkin. “Carrie,” she began slowly. “You once told me how much you miss your father, Marshall.”
“Every day.”
“This is more about him, isn’t it?”
Carrie glanced at her. “Why would you say something like that? This has nothing to do with my father.”
“I think it does. I think you’re bothered that all of this has stirred up your mother’s feelings for another man.”
“My mother and father were married for over fifty years, Jeanne. They spent their adult lives together. They rarely expressed their affection openly, but you knew when they did, they meant it. The night before my father passed away, he looked up at me and said, ‘I spent my life with a beautiful, loving woman.’ That’s the most I ever heard from him when it came to feelings. They were good friends. That was enough for both of them.”
“Partners of their joys and sorrows,” Jeanne said softly.
Carrie looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Just something I read somewhere. I’ve done some checking, and it was a phrase commonly used in wills and on headstones in the 1800s.”
Carrie nodded. “That’s exactly what they were.” Her voice was sombre. She leaned close to Jeanne. “You’re not the only one who was close to her father, Jeanne. I have memories of my father, too, but my memories are something that I hold privately in the back of my mind. They don’t consume my daily thoughts and actions.”
“You’re suggesting that mine do?”
“Perhaps the reason you’re having such a difficult time deciding what to do about the Sinclair house is your unwillingness to let that all-consuming issue out of your life. For heaven’s sake, make a decision and move on. It’s just a wooden structure. It means nothing. If it burned down tomorrow, would your life be any different?”
Jeanne froze at the thought and admitted to herself that it would.
* * * * *
Late on Monday afternoon after the business closed for the day, Kurt looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Working late?” Kevin observed, as he tapped lightly on the door.
“Yes, I am,” Kurt replied, glancing at his watch. “How did you get in?”
“An employee was just leaving. A lovely young lady. She was on her way out, and I told her I had a late appointment with you. She smiled and wished me a nice evening.”
Kurt sat back after carefully covering the files on his desk. “What can I do for you, Kevin?”
“I’m just finishing up a few things this week and planning to return to Halifax on the weekend,” Kevin explained as he sat comfortably.
“So you didn’t get what you really came here for, the Sinclair house?”
“I guess she won’t be selling it, at least not to me. I’ll have to be content with my place in Planter’s Bight, and in a few years,” Kevin said, sighing loudly, “I can sit back, survey the ocean, and read all the books I’ve been meaning to for years. Maybe even some of yours, Kurt,” he added with a grin. “I just wanted you to know something before I leave. I explained to Jeanne why I was so anxious to get the Sinclair house. I feel I owe you an explanation.”
“The staircase,” Kurt interjected.
“You know?”
“Joe guessed, and his mother confirmed it. Your conversation with him about the staircase. He realized then it had more than a passing meaning to you. The work you admired was your father’s.”
He nodded. “Yes, and I have to say, Joe gave me what I came here for—recognition from someone who understands fine craftsmanship when he sees it. The first day I met him, he mentioned the staircase and how much he admired it. I knew then that I had to hire him as my architect.”
Kurt looked at this man he had only known a few weeks and had struggled to figure out. “Kevin, would you explain why that recognition was so important to you?”
Kevin paused. He briefly related the story of his father and his dealings with Charles Sinclair.
“Your father certainly did a remarkable job,” Kurt observed.
“Yes. I noticed how sturdy it has remained after all these years. But despite Father’s efforts and long hours, he paid a price. After he finished, he found it impossible to get work anywhere else in St. John’s. Sinclair told him he wasn’t reliable. He wouldn’t explain further. My father never got over it. It made me angry, too, when he told me a few years ago. As a result of Charles’s influence in this community, we were forced to move away, and my parents left the only home they ever loved
. One of the last things my father told me was, ‘Kevin, no matter how hard you work in this life, unless they decide you’re worthy, you’re not.’” He paused and reflected on the words. “I wanted to come here and buy the house now because I have the financial means. I wanted a chance to appreciate what he did and have others appreciate what he did, even though he’ll never know. I wanted to keep my promise to my father that someday I would walk around the Sinclair house and it would be mine.”
Kurt noticed a profound sadness on the face of the man across from him. “It may not have been said to him directly, and that is unfortunate, but there are those who recognized his talent, as you have discovered.”
Kevin nodded. “Indeed. I appreciate that.”
Kurt leaned forward. “I understand your anger and your father’s, Kevin. But surely you would agree that there is more to Charles’s life than you know. What you describe is patently unfair, and I’m the last person to defend him. The man had very little use for me. But as I said, there’s more to his life. Perhaps someday you’ll see that.”
Kevin sat back and pondered his words. “Kurt, I wasn’t going to bring this up, but now that we’re on the topic, I’d like to run something by you.”
“Of course.”
“I’ve been thinking about the fact that Jeanne knew nothing about my father or how he was treated by Charles. And that seems strange to me.”
“How so?”
He sighed. “Jeanne was his favourite. According to her, he loved her dearly and he told her things that made her proud of him.”
“True.”
“Then don’t you think he would have bragged about his treatment of Edgar Gillis? Especially in his final years.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps so, Kevin. It certainly sounds likely.” He stood and walked to the window, pondering the possibilities. “It may be that the Bolands are behind it. Clarence Boland might have been pulling strings, telling Charles what to do. That’s something he never would admit to Jeanne.” He turned back to Kevin to see that he was contemplating Kurt’s suggestion. “In the meantime, Kevin, may I ask you a question about your property in Planter’s Bight?”
“Certainly.”
“When did you buy it?”
“I bought it in 1992. It was cheap compared to other pieces of land in the area.”
“It was originally owned by your parents. Am I correct in saying that Charles bought the land soon after your family moved to Halifax?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Kurt responded. “Could you tell me why he did that?”
Kevin was surprised by the question, but he was gaining a respect for the man’s attention to detail. “Well, I s’pose because he was a very vindictive man. Not only was he successful in getting my father out of the city and unemployed, he took his property as well.”
“Yes, but why? He knew your parents would not return. Your father could ill afford to do so.”
Kevin shrugged. “I asked my father many years ago. He told me that Charles Sinclair was a wealthy man who saw investment opportunities after Newfoundland became a province and started to buy up property.”
“Okay, that makes sense, though one wonders why this particular piece of property. Your father’s argument also doesn’t explain why Charles sold it in 1992 to a member of the Gillis family and well below the market price.”
Kevin peered across the desk, his mind reeling with the revelation. “As my father explained it, Charles was an old man, and he was likely anxious to dump some of the land he owned so that he could leave money to his family. Perhaps it was guilt for all he did to my father and our family.”
Kurt shook his head, not convinced, but he realized he would not find the answer he wanted from Kevin. “Perhaps so,” he said simply, but he was convinced that there was more.
Kevin stood. “I wanted to thank you again for the interview, Kurt, and your advice. You’ve been very helpful. As promised, I’ll send you a copy of the article before it goes to my editor. In the meantime, Joe and I will keep in contact throughout the winter as he and the contractor work on my house. Thanks again.”
Kurt stood and gripped his hand firmly. “Kevin, I’ve reviewed your plans for some east coast properties. They’re very thorough.”
“Yes.” His attention piqued.
“I’m particularly interested in your company’s plan for the community of Devon Point.”
“Are you familiar with the area? It’s a beautiful spot. Somewhat isolated, but it would fill a need, according to the market study.”
“Agreed. I’ve not been there, but I’ve heard of the area. Jeanne’s mother, as you might know, is from Falcon Cove, which is near there.”
“Yes. I recall her telling me that.”
“Good. When you and your company are ready to proceed, get back to me. It seems a worthwhile investment.”
“I will. Thank you.” He turned to leave.
“One more thing, Kevin. I’m not one to give personal advice, or at least I hope I’m not, because I’m not good at taking it. Let me just say this to you. I’ve known Jeanne Sinclair for over thirty years. One thing I can say with certainty is that she appreciates honesty. There’s a reason why she keeps things about Charles to herself. A very good reason, but perhaps you should reconsider and tell her how you feel about her. Maybe the two of you will find that without the past in the picture, there are some interesting possibilities.”
“Actually, I would have told her about my father earlier, if it hadn’t been for your words.”
“My words?”
“Uh huh. You once told me that I should let her have her memories regardless of their accuracy. I gave it some thought. As far as the memories I have of my father, I don’t know if they’re accurate, but I keep them nonetheless. I understood when I met her that she’s very fond of her father and holds him in high regard. I guess I didn’t want to take that from her.”
“Then, I think she should know that. I doubt she’s truly aware of your intentions.” He walked Kevin to the door. “Besides, you have nothing more to lose.”
CHAPTER 9
August 1996
Just after 9:00 a.m. on Tuesday, Jeanne waited for the walk sign to change at the intersection of Columbus Drive and Allandale Road. She quickened her step across the road and found shelter from the stiffening breeze under the maple trees that glistened with dew in the morning sunshine on the trail around Long Pond. She smiled and nodded at two familiar faces, regular walkers, and adjusted her hat to protect her hair.
As she listened to her footsteps crunching on the fine gravel beneath her feet, she tried to recall the summer of 1952, the time when the staircase was replaced. She didn’t remember much about her teenage years and was thankful for that. It was the year she turned fifteen. She recalled being infatuated that summer with a young man who played soccer and lived in her neighbourhood. He had glanced at her a few times when she watched him play, and that was enough to make her heart flutter, an attraction that intensified when she learned that he planned to become a pilot. Now she shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memory. Surely, in the afterlife, if there is one, the punishment for your sins is making you relive your teenage years.
She did remember being away from home for most of that summer, but the circumstances of where she travelled or why eluded her. Could she trust Alva Green’s assurance that it was not Charles but Clarence Boland who treated the Gillis family unfairly? Even if it had been Clarence, she realized, her father had supported his action. The question remained. Why?
She rounded the bend at the head of the pond, paused and stepped aside to allow two pedestrians with large, boisterous golden retrievers to go by. As she resumed her pace, her thoughts went back to Virginia’s funeral three years ago. It had been brief and private, as she had requested. Jeanne remembered sitting emotionless
during the service and letting her mind drift to planning a vacation, anything to cloud the reality of the moment. She deliberately avoided making eye contact with others, except for her father, who seemed strangely oblivious to what was happening. At the time, she rationalized his reaction as being too painful for him, but now she wondered if there was another reason. Grateful to Emily for keeping their relatives at bay, Jeanne had spent the afternoon alone in one room of the house. No one questioned her whereabouts.
Two days after the funeral, Jeanne packed Virginia’s clothes and marked the boxes for a local goodwill centre. Charles walked into the bedroom that morning and sat on the corner of the bed looking despondent. He told her that he had an appointment with Jonathan. Despite her protest, he assured her that he wouldn’t be long. She remembered his words as he got up to leave. I have to make things right.
Jeanne wondered then, as she wondered now, what did he mean by making things right? As she neared the northern side of the pond, the wind at her back, she wished she had asked him to explain. The sun was higher in the sky now and warm against her skin. It felt nourishing. For a moment, she forgot the past and thought only about Kevin. As difficult as it was for her to admit, the probability of him no longer being in her life left her feeling empty.
Her mind returned to their day together in Planter’s Bight, the clear, fresh air and calm surroundings, and above all, their walk along the rocky shoreline where he wrapped his arms around her and held her for that special moment. Why did Father sell the land to you, Kevin? Why was it so important that he sell it at that time? She slowed her step. Around the bend in the path, she saw a brightly coloured park bench, so she sat for a moment to tighten her sneaker laces. The water lapped on the rocks and white lilies at the edge of the pond, and the tall grass waved in the breeze. He sold the land in 1992, the same year that Virginia died. Just a month later. Was this what Father was making right? Did he intentionally want the land to go back to the Gillis family? She leaned back and enjoyed the warmth of the sun. Yes, she thought, now suddenly convinced. That’s exactly what he was doing. And if that was true, then it was also true what she originally believed and as Hannah had confirmed. It had not been Charles’s decision to let Edgar Gillis go, nor to spread stories about him. It could only have been Clarence Boland. Her father had tried to make up for what Clarence had done. He wanted, as he said, to make things right. She got up from the bench and hurried to the trail that brought her back once again to the sidewalk and intersection. Waiting for the traffic to stop and the light to change, she reflected on her conversations with Hannah, and especially her words that she should rely on herself, and only herself. It was sage advice.
All Good Intentions Page 29