Joanne and her puns, Ellen thinks, nuzzling her grand-
daughter as she smiles at her daughter. “Okay, pumpkin,” she tells Jana, lowering her to the ground. “Time for you to grow feet and walk.”
Ellen takes the bear from Joanne and claims her hug.
Jana looks around, then turns to Ellen.
“When can we go to your house, Gramma?”
“You’re at my house,” Ellen replies.
Jana shakes her head. “No, we’re not. I want to go to your really house.”
Ellen looks at Joanne and raises her eyebrow. Embarrassed, Joanne bends down to her daughter.
“This is where Grandma lives now, honey. I told you she was in her new house.”
Jana shakes her head again. “No,” she says firmly. “This isn’t Gramma’s house.”
Joanne takes Jana into her arms. “It’s okay, honey. Grandma moved out of her old house and this is where she lives now. I haven’t been here either. Won’t it be fun to explore her new place?”
It seems as though years have passed by the time they finish dinner and Jana is tucked into bed.
“Mom, I’m so confused right now. I don’t know what to do.”
“I know, Joanne, but it isn’t something someone else can decide for you. It’s your life and you have to do what’s best for you. You and Jana. All I can say is take your time and don’t do anything irrevocable.”
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Even before Lissy …” the words trail off.
“Have you and Stan considered counselling?”
“He doesn’t want to go.”
“You can go by yourself.”
The silence tells Ellen this isn’t going to be an option.
Joanne takes a deep breath. “Mom, I’m so confused right now. I just need to get away for a while. Everything in the house reminds me of Lissy. Everything I look at brings back memories. And I don’t know where Stan’s coming from — it’s as though it’s okay to grieve for a little while, but as far as he’s concerned, that time is up and we should just get on with our lives.”
Ellen waits before she replies, choosing her words carefully.
“You know you’re welcome to stay here, but it can’t be a permanent solution.”
Joanne nods, dropping her gaze to the floor. Her response is a whisper. “I know. It’s just for a little while, until I’ve had a chance to think.”
She finishes drying the dishes and carefully places the dish towel on its rack, smoothing the folds into pleats.
“What was it like when you and Dad broke up? Was it this hard? How did you decide when to go? You’ve been through all this. Tell me what to do.”
“We were different,” she begins, then pauses. “I don’t know what your father has told you, but he left first.” Joanne’s eyes widen. “I had no idea that was coming. It took me by surprise.”
Surprise. That’s an interesting word to use. Thinking back, it was more than just surprise, it was the end of a way of life, although she didn’t know it at that time. Nor does she need to share that part of it with Joanne.
“He had a lawyer. I didn’t. His lawyer told him to keep the house. It was in his name anyway. His lawyer set the whole thing up for him.”
She pauses, nervously picking at a ragged fingernail. “I was angry. Hurt and angry. I wasn’t being very logical, practical, or smart at the time.”
“Did you know about her, about Verna, before?”
Ellen shrugs. “No. But she didn’t break up the marriage. I know that now, but it took a while to realize the truth. It was broken long before she came along. That was the hard part, finding out that it had been over for so long and I didn’t know it.”
A desultory conversation bridges the next few minutes, then Joanne excuses herself. “It’s been a long day and I’m really bushed. Do you mind if I turn in now?”
“Go ahead, honey. I’ll stay up a while longer. I’ve still got a few things to do.”
“G’nite, Mom,” Joanne says, tiptoeing into the bedroom so as not to disturb Jana.
It reminds Ellen of a hundred nights during Joanne’s growing up years. It seems so long ago. Life was so much simpler then and so much brighter for both of them.
Tim calls the next day. “Got time for a cuppa?”
“Sorry, Tim. Joanne and Jana got in yesterday and I’m not sure what their plans are for today.”
“Anything I can do? Friendly shoulder required?”
Ellen laughs. “I’d love to talk, and a friendly shoulder is always welcome, but I can’t tell you when I’ll be free.”
“You can always bring them over here for a visit. I can draw funny pictures for the little one.”
“Thanks, Tim. Give me a day to find out what their plans are.”
It turns out Joanne and Jana want to see Al, so Ellen arranges for them to go there the next afternoon. Jana’s a bit apprehensive.
“Does Grampa still live in a really house?” she asks.
“He certainly does,” Joanne replies.
Baby tears shimmer across Jana’s eyes. “I don’t like things always changing. Lissy went away and Daddy went away and Gramma doesn’t live in a really house and everything is all muddled up.”
Joanne scoops the little girl up in her arms.
“I’m here, honey. I’ll always be here. Daddy still loves you. He loves you very, very much. And Grandma isn’t any different just because she’s living in a different place. Nothing has changed. Not the important things. We all love you. That’s all you have to remember.”
Jana ducks her head, then peeks up and smiles at her mother. She’s restless and wriggles in Joanne’s arms, eager to escape their confining grasp.
“Jana,” Ellen says, “I need you to help me. I have to go to the store for some cereal, but I don’t know what kind to get. Any ideas?”
“Super Frankenstein’s. That’s the bestest one.”
“Does Mommy like that kind of cereal?”
While Jana nods an enthusiastic yes, Joanne grasps her throat with both hands and makes a strangling sound.
Ellen smiles.
“So, what’s your next favourite? Maybe something that Mommy likes too?”
Jana’s forehead puckers in a frown. “I don’t know.”
“Tell you what, let’s go to the store and see what they have. Maybe that will help you make up your mind.”
The shopping trip is a splendid diversion. It takes endless time to choose Jana’s favourite cereal, favourite fruit, and favourite drink. Picking her favourite fruit evolves into a game of identifying shapes and colours. Eventually she chooses red flame grapes, because, as she explains, “they crunch.”
Over breakfast the next morning, Joanne discusses her plans for the day.
“Did you want to come over to Dad’s place with me?” she asks, casually.
The words are a slap: “Dad’s place.” How easily it’s become Dad’s place. What happened to all years it was my place, too, Ellen wonders.
“Please, Gramma,” Jana interjects.
“No, pumpkin.” She turns to Joanne. “I’d rather let you and Jana have some time together with him. I have a few other things that I have to do. That reminds me.” She reaches across the counter. “Here, I had a key made for you so you can come and go as you please.”
Five minutes after they leave, Ellen is in her biking togs and headed for the underground storage to reclaim her bike. She feels she should apologize for leaving it there. Moments later she’s on the road, pedalling as hard as she can while her mind goes into high gear, trying to focus on Joanne and her problem, trying to decide how to help her, trying not to think of what is happening at this moment in “Dad’s place.”
It’s a beautiful day, one of the respite days fall offers before winter settles in. Trees flaunt their leaves, flowing in colourful clouds as the wind plucks them from their branches. There’s a last brave show in the gardens as chrysanthemums break into billowing cushions of blooms. Large mums, shaggy
mums, and little button mums join the late-blooming glads and the end-of-the-season burst of begonias and geraniums. Impatiens have reached their maximum growth and leggy alyssum fills every crevice of borders and beds, scenting the air with a perfume that reminds Ellen of the sachets her mother tucked into her lingerie drawer. There’s a symphony of colour and a cornucopia of smells. Wood smoke and burning leaves challenge the scent of freshly cut grass as gardeners get ready for the rainy season ahead.
When she returns to her apartment, the phone is ringing.
“Mom, it’s me. Joanne.”
Ellen laughs to herself. Does she think I can’t recognize her voice?
“Dad’s got tons of photo albums and things he wants me go to through and I was thinking it might be easier to stay here for a while. Jana and I can sleep in my old room. There’s really a lot of stuff that needs to be gone through, so I thought we could spend today and tomorrow here. Would you mind?”
“Of course not. I thought you might want to do something of the sort.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll be over in a while to pick up some of our things.” She giggles into the phone. “I don’t think any of my old clothes I left here would still fit me — and I know they won’t fit Jana. I’ll phone before I leave.”
“No need. Just come. You have the key in case I’m out.”
She uses the unexpected day to get in another ride, cleaning her bike thoroughly before once again returning it to the basement storage locker.
As she re-enters her apartment, the phone rings. This time it’s Tim.
“Got a minute to talk? Just wondered how things were going.”
The turmoil that had evaporated during her ride swirls back again. What to tell Tim? Why not be honest and tell him the truth? She has no idea where this relationship is going. She enjoys his company but she’s not sure if she wants to go beyond that point. What if it doesn’t work out? She might lose his friendship, and at this moment she realizes she values that above anything else. But it’s hard to say any of this over the phone.
“Got lots of time. Joanne and Jana went to see Al and they’re staying with him for a couple of days.”
There’s a pause before he replies.
“I was just going to make myself something to drink. Care to come over and share?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Conversation flows easily with Tim. She finds herself telling him about Joanne and Stan’s problems, about her concerns for Jana, about Joanne’s anger.
“Stan doesn’t know how to cope with her anger,” Ellen explains. “I’ve noticed it before. He usually just lets her do whatever she wants, but this time he seems to be taking a stand of some sort, but it doesn’t seem to be the right one. I don’t know what to say to either of them.”
“Counselling?” Tim asks.
“No. Neither one thinks they need it.”
Tim moves behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and massaging them gently. “It’s hard, isn’t it, to stand back and watch someone you care about go through something like this.” As though talking to himself, he continues, “Even harder when you want to help and there’s nothing you can do.”
Abruptly, he withdraws his hands.
“I’ve got a truly goofy video — the best of the Super Bowl commercials over the years. They’re always good to watch and it’s more fun to laugh with someone than to laugh alone. Want to watch it with me?”
They settle comfortably on the sofa and he starts the video. He’s right. They are funny. They sit laughing together, after it ends, recalling favourite moments. Somehow, his arm is around her and she’s nestled into the curve of his shoulder. It feels good. She’s missed the intimate feel of a masculine hug, the bristly scrape of an end-of-the-day kiss. And the feeling of warmth and wanting that suffuses her as their embrace grows more heated.
Somehow, his hands are possessing her, moving her, undoing clothing.
This can’t be happening, her mind whispers.
Ellen knows she should resist, but she doesn’t want to. Her body needs and wants what’s happening. He scoops her into his arms and lifts her from the sofa.
“We’ll do this right,” he says, “in a comfortable bed.”
She knows she should say something, but all she can do is smile as he carries her into the bedroom.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” Tim tells her, as he lowers her gently onto the duvet.
“For what?” she murmurs.
“For us,” he replies.
Suddenly he turns and moves to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“We need wine and candles,” he announces.
Moments later he’s back with a bottle of Kahlua and a large candle, whose flame flickers as he walks.
“Now,” he whispers, “let’s play.”
The bottle gives a comfortable glug as he tips it, pours a little in his palm and smoothes it onto her breast.
“What are you doing?” She laughs. “You’re wasting good Kahlua!”
“It’s only wasted if I don’t make use of it,” he responds, lowering his head and touching her breast with his tongue.
“Hmm. Tasty.” He grins.
“What a goof you are.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He drizzles a few more drops of Kahlua onto her breast. Her nipple rises, swelling with need. He takes her into his mouth, bringing back a long-forgotten desire deep within her. She turns to him, but he gently pushes her shoulders back.
“Not yet, Cushla,” he says. “You’re a beautiful woman and I want you as I’ve never wanted another woman. I want you as a stag wants a doe, as an eagle wants its mate, and as a man wants a woman. And I shall have you that way.”
Abruptly he rolls her onto her stomach and straddles her, locking her hips between strong thighs as he pulls her toward him. She senses his heat before she feels him. His fingers busy themselves, massaging her, lubricating her, teasing her, before he slides gently into her, then moves more harshly and strongly as the rhythm of the moment catches them.
“Like a stag, like a stag,” he chants. “Like a wild stag in the forest.”
Like the doe, she encourages him, urging him deeper. At last he comes in a surge of heat and power. She moves, trying to ease away, but he holds her firmly.
“That was the first. Now I want you as an eagle wants its mate.”
“An eagle?”
“Aye, an eagle. Strong, free, and powerful. Come.”
He stands, then extends his hand.
“But what do eagles do?”
“They fly to the highest point they can reach,” Tim explains, whirling her around in a dizzy embrace. “Then, when they can fly no higher, they face each other, like this.” He turns her toward himself and locks her in closely. “You don’t have wings, but wrap your legs around my waist. Hold tightly now. We’re high in the air.”
Ellen leaps upward, hands on his shoulders, cinching her legs around his waist.
Abruptly he stiffens, groans, and fends her off.
“Jesus bloody Christ woman! Think like an eagle, not a gorilla. You’re breaking my back.”
He pauses, catching his breath. Ellen freezes in confusion. He shakes his head, then smiles at her.
“It’s all right. My back goes out sometimes. You caught me off balance. That’s all. Let’s try it again. Only this time, don’t leap on me.”
As he lifts her gently, she twines herself around him, clutching tightly while his hands slide beneath her buttocks.
“And now he takes her.”
Swiftly, he enters her, moving her to match the thrust of his hips. And explosive moment later, he slides his hands under her arms, and gently lowers her down.
“Then just before they reach the ground, they break apart and fly away. ’Tis a beautiful sight to see, and an even greater thing to enjoy.”
They move slowly to the bed. Her knees are trembling and her desire is mounting. She needs this man. Needs to feel him deep inside her.
Needs to hold him so tightly he becomes part of her, his image pressed into her flesh.
“And now, Cushla, I want you as a man wants a woman.”
They clasp each other, but eager as she is, he doesn’t enter her yet. His tongue explores her body, travelling through the cleft between her breasts, visiting her navel, then reaching for her innermost core. Pressure pounds throughout her body. She wants him, needs him. Now. But still he teases. Gently he nuzzles until she can contain herself no longer.
“For God’s sake, Tim, no more!”
He raises himself, moving upward, and she glances down to look at him. She’s never seen a man so large, nor so erect. Slowly he advances, sliding himself into her. Then harder and faster he presses against her innermost being. She gives herself to the moment, feels him filling her, expanding until he is part of her. She can wait no longer. There is a blessed moment of release, like breakers crashing on the sand, like lightning in a summer storm — all the clichés she can remember sudden seem fresh again. He laughs as she comes, and only then allows himself release.
“And that is the way a man takes a woman.” He smiles.
They nuzzle together, spent, needing each other’s warmth and the gentleness that comes after.
“Come,” he says, leading her to the shower, where they take turns washing each other, then drying one another off.
They cuddle again, lying close together on the bed. Gradually she hears the traffic noises diminish. She’s lulled, ready to sleep, when suddenly she remembers Joanne and looks at the bedside clock. It’s one thirty in the morning.
“Tim, I’ve got to go home.”
“You’re welcome to spend the night,” he says.
“No, I’ve got to get back to my own place. I don’t know when Joanne is going to phone in the morning, but I have to be there.”
“Are you sure?”
She’s sure. Quickly she dresses and Tim walks her to the door. “I can’t escort you home like this,” he laughs, gesturing at his naked body.
He grabs her for a lusty kiss, then grins. “Now I definitely can’t walk outside,” he says, looking down at an erection that is beginning to happen.
“You’re insatiable.” She laughs.
On the Rim Page 19