All Good Intentions
Page 39
“And this man, Kevin Gillis, what’s the story on him?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Jeanne keeps things like that to herself.”
“But he’s a fine-looking man, you said on the phone. You met him.”
“Oh, yes. I can tell he’s really taken with her. But I don’t know.” Hannah sighed heavily. “To be honest, Adelia, and don’t mention this to a soul, Jeanne carries fond memories of Kurt around with her. I can see it in her eyes when she talks about him. Oh, she’s angry with him for leaving her, that’s understandable. He was the first man she fell in love with. You never forget that man.” Hannah looked pensive for a moment. “Now, that cream must be turned to butter by now. Let’s get those cookies on a plate.”
Minutes later, they settled at either end of the kitchen table with a side plate filled with a sizable date square and a healthy dollop of heavy cream next to it. Hannah took one mouthful. “Mmmmm . . . they must serve these in heaven on Sundays.”
“I’m sure they do, even with the calories, because in heaven no one cares about calories,” said Adelia, as they enjoyed their dessert. “Hannah,” she said, and paused. “Did you and Jeanne talk much about Charles?”
“A little. She asked me about him. I told her as much as I could remember. Well, no, not everything. Not yet, anyway.” Hannah sighed.
Adelia added sugar to her tea and stirred it slowly. “Tell me, what was he really like? I promise I’ll keep it to myself.”
Hannah reached for her napkin, folding it and unfolding it repeatedly as she thought. “I remember some things. He was tall and handsome, and he always smelled nice. He laughed a lot when he was around me.” She paused and finally added, “He told me I had a beautiful face, Adelia. No one ever told me that before, or since, for that matter. He told me he enjoyed my stories. The night that we, you know, Mrs. Sinclair was gone out. Emily was asleep. Mrs. Green had something on at church. I knew Charles was home because he was working in his study. I was in the kitchen when he came in and asked me to make him some tea. It was getting late, and I really wanted to go to bed, because, of course, I had to get up really early. But I got the tea and we talked for a while, and then I went up to my room.”
“He followed you?”
Hannah nodded and looked down. “I didn’t stop him from coming into my room. I was young, Deely. I didn’t know what I was doing. Heavens, I didn’t know what he was doing.” She forced a laugh to ease away the memory. “It just happened.”
“So he didn’t . . .”
“Oh my, no. To be honest, having his arms around me was the most exciting moment of my life. I know it sounds stupid and wrong, and God forgive me, he was a married man, and up until recently, I couldn’t forgive myself. But I’ve learned something about guilt and how powerful and hurtful it can be. I’m letting go of that.” Hannah patted her napkin on the table. “Jeanne and I have had wonderful talks.”
“Good for you, my dear. Let it go. Besides, you have Jeanne and two grandchildren as a result.” Adelia stirred the last of the crumbs into her cream and licked the spoon. “What did Charles say about it all later, Hannah? Did he regret it?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Not that he said. Over the years he wrote me a few letters. The first one I got on Jeanne’s first birthday. It was just a page to say she was doing fine. He told me that the time he spent with me made his reality bearable. I’ve never forgotten those words. Made his reality bearable. Imagine. Little Hannah Parsons could do something like that for Charles Sinclair. Oh, I’m sure part of him regretted it because I had a baby and he had to tell his wife and her family, and they made him pay for it terribly. But he never said anything to me about it being a mistake. Just that it happened.”
“Did you get many letters?”
“No, not really, more so in later years. I haven’t told this to anyone else besides Carrie, and Marshall, of course, but Charles used to send me money. His note asked me to keep the fact that he was sending me money as a secret. It made sense that he didn’t want anyone else to know.”
“But he left you money in his will. Surely he would have realized that the family would know then.”
Hannah nodded. “Yes, but I saw the will and I noticed the date. It was only made a few years ago.”
“Virginia, his wife, was gone by then?”
“Yes, she was.” Hannah’s mind suddenly turned back to Virginia, and she could picture her as clearly as she could see Adelia. She recalled Virginia’s words on the day that Hannah left the house, words that Hannah had not repeated to anyone. And never would. The final words she spoke to Hannah as she walked through the door. To choose someone of your station in life . . . that’s the embarrassment.
She forced herself to focus on the moment and her conversation with Adelia.
“You never know, Hannah, what some people have on their plates. Like all of us, I s’pose. Some people carry their woes around on their sleeves. Others keep them in their innards.”
Hannah nodded in agreement with her friend’s simple assessment, poured more tea, and sweetened it. “It’s all days gone by now.”
Adelia smiled. “Hannah, was Charles around when the baby was born?”
Hannah shook her head. “No. Mrs. Green, Alva, was with me, and the doctor, of course, Dr. Hamlyn, and a lovely nurse. I remember her. Her name was Miriam, like in the Bible. She was so kind. I didn’t see Charles until a week later, just before I left to come home. He promised that she would be well taken care of, and he kept that promise.” She looked away wistfully. “I just wish he had had a better life.”
“It sounds like he really cared for you,” Adelia said, not wishing to disclose the information she had gotten earlier from Carrie.
Hannah thought back to Alva Green’s words. He really loved you. “Perhaps so. I know I feel bad for even talking about it. Marshall and I . . .” her voice cracked, and she gasped a little at the emotion.
“You and Marshall were the best. But that was different. The Good Lord gave us variety, Hannah, so we wouldn’t be bored,” Adelia said with a laugh, hoping it would cheer up her friend.
Hannah smiled as her eyes glistened. “I have a feeling that the folks I just left in St. John’s will never be bored. Jeanne is renovating the Sinclair house and turning it into an inn, Joe and Sandi have their new house to work on, and of course, there’s a big family wedding on the horizon.” She cut out another cookie, smaller this time, and placed it next to the cream on her plate. “I’d better put away some cookies and cream for Carrie. She’ll never forgive me for denying her your date crumbles.”
Adelia chuckled. “I forgot to tell you earlier. There was some excitement down here while you were away. Two men from the mainland, Nova Scotia, I think, were across the bay in Devon Point, sizing up the land.”
Hannah went wide-eyed. “Devon Point? What ever for?”
“Toby was talking to them, or I should say listening to them. He got all the details. He and Iris rowed over one day for mussels,” Adelia explained. “It seems they’re going to build fancy cottages for tourists. But Iris says that there’s going to be trouble because that land isn’t for the town to sell. That’s Henderson land.”
Hannah smiled and shook her head in amazement. Then she remembered that Kevin Gillis had asked her about Devon Point and told her about his company’s interest in the place. She lifted her fork and pressed the edge down into the soft, gooey date square, dipped the portion into the cream, and relished its flavour. “This island’s going to be filled with fancy places to stay, Adelia. Now all we need are people to stay in them and the weather to keep them here.” She picked up her napkin again and swept the remaining crumbs onto her plate. “I must remember to phone Jeanne tonight to tell her,” she said. “She’ll want to hear all about it.”
But Jeanne had a story of her own to share.
Acknowledgements
All Good Intentions continues the fictional series of several St. John’s families, their relationships, and their secrets. Ideas for the story grew out of my academic research in Newfoundland legal history. Linda Cullum and Marilyn Porter’s interviews of in-service women and Carla Wheaton’s social history of Water Street business provided valuable insight into employer-employee relations in twentieth-century Newfoundland.
Family members, friends, and colleagues contributed to the success of the first book. Dave White has been vigilant in promoting the book in Nova Scotia, and I appreciate his continuing efforts. Linda White and Ivy Tong are my reliable sources on the history and culture of Bonavista Bay North. I also appreciate the interest of various media, including newspapers, radio, and television, as well as The Rooms in St. John’s and Word on the Street: Halifax.
Special thanks go to my circle of support and encouragement, my initial readers and good friends, Roxanne McHugh, Valarie James, and Jill Gosse. They never hesitate to say yes when I ask them to read the first draft, despite their busy lives. Audrey Oake read the manuscript more times than she and I care to count. I rely on all of them and appreciate their honest feedback.
I am so grateful for the eagle eye of my copy editor, Iona Bulgin, for her sage advice and meticulous editing. The books would not be possible without her talent. Once again, the folks at Flanker Press have carried out the publishing process with enthusiasm and commitment.
Most of all, special appreciation goes to all the readers who reached out to me with their comments on From a Good Home. I thoroughly enjoyed attending book club meetings and library presentations throughout the province during the past two years. My readers’ anticipation of the sequel inspired the completion of All Good Intentions.
Finally, special thanks to Albert, who listens, advises, encourages, and most importantly, reminds me that I am writing to please myself.
The places and people in this book are purely fictional. Any similarities to real people or places are coincidental, and any errors are my responsibility.
If you enjoyed All Good Intentions, I’d appreciate it if you would take the time to leave a rating on Amazon.ca or Goodreads, or send me a comment on the website: www.trudi-johnson.com.
About the Author
Trudi (White) Johnson, Ph.D., grew up in St. John’s, though her family roots are in Greenspond, Bonavista Bay. She graduated from Memorial University and taught for ten years in the K-12 school system in White Bay and Labrador City. In the 1990s, she completed a doctoral degree in Newfoundland history, specializing in matrimonial law and inheritance practices. Currently, she is an associate professor in the Faculty of Education at Memorial, where she enjoys teaching education and communications and researches effective teaching, student engagement, and teacher efficacy.
Her first novel, From a Good Home, was published in 2016. It begins the story about a fictional St. John’s family, the Sinclairs. It received positive reviews and was promoted throughout Atlantic Canada. All Good Intentions, the second in the series, continues the story of the lives of the Sinclair family and friends. She is currently working on the third book in the series, Share and Share Alike. Through her writing, she hopes her readers will see that we all live our lives in “webs spun long before we were born.”
In addition to writing fiction, Trudi likes to garden, read murder mysteries, and watch sports. She lives in St. John’s with her husband, Albert.
She can be reached at her website: www.trudi-johnson.com.
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