Pa had sneaked up behind her, startling her and the child. Dana began to cry and would not be comforted, as if she knew she was not welcomed by this man.
“Pa?”
He said nothing, just glanced briefly at the small girl in Ellie’s arms, and then entered the house, letting the door slam behind him.
That was the last time she would ever see him.
Joshua paid Bill a few dollars for gas in exchange for a ride home. Anything was better than the bus, even Bill’s cheerful, endless renditions of stories a little too large to believe.
The cab of the truck stunk like fish. Would he ever escape the salty smell of the ocean, the rank odour and stomach turning spectacle of trout squirming, gasping and dying? The farther away they drove from the ocean, the better.
“Bet you can’t wait to see the little woman, eh? And that young gaffer, too. Sure is a cute thing. What’s her name again? Oh yeah, Dana.
“Betsy was so excited when I telephoned and told her I’d be home for Thanksgiving. Hope my five kids are just as happy. They barely know me anymore. I’m gone too much. But enough of that gloomy stuff. I’m home for now. Gotta live one day at a time, right, boy?”
Joshua nodded and grunted appropriately, his thoughts always on Ellie. She was so unhappy. He vacillated between guilt and anger. He shouldn’t have touched her. He should have just walked her home, and walked away. She had been so vulnerable. Too unbelievably desirable.
But life wasn’t roses for him, either. She pouted and complained about him being gone so much, and having to put up with his mother, but what about him? Did she ever think about what it was like for him to face each day without her and Dana, to go to bed alone every night with only a vomit pail for a companion?
He hoped this time would be different. It was always an argument and a cold departure. Could they rip down the wall that had grown between them?
The smoothness of the pavement beneath the vehicle changed abruptly to the rough grittiness of gravel. The vibrations were a signal to him that they were almost home.
32
Eden
EDEN was amazed by her patience. Alice Desmond, the homemaker/nurse had been making daily visits for the last few weeks. Eden had called her the day after the attack; she no longer had the physical or emotional ability to cope. She was thankful beyond words that her father had left their finances in good order. Quality care didn’t come cheaply and Eden pitied those caregivers who couldn’t afford to bring in outside help.
Alice stood at least five foot ten and was underweight, yet Eden envied her energy. Tight curly, permed hair accentuated her sharp nose. Adorned with a black pointy hat and broomstick, she would make a believable witch. Her appearance was an unfair reflection of her character. She was firm, yet gentle, doing all the menial tasks Eden abhorred, like bathing Eleanor and changing the Attends.
When she descended the stairs, Eleanor looked like a well-dressed drowned rat. She had recently lost weight she couldn’t spare, and with her damp hair slicked back, she reminded Eden of an animated cartoon character.
“Here’s the woman of the hour, Eden,” Alice announced.
“Hey, Mom, you look much better.” To Alice she added, “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure and of course my job,” she said lightly. “Mrs. Emerson, care for a cup of coffee?”
It was the ritual cup of coffee and two cookies from a box—Eleanor preferred boxed to baked as they were better for dunking—after bath time, and Alice would often come prepared to entertain Eleanor with a simple craft.
Eden rose from the kitchen table to call Sophie down from her room where she was playing quietly with her dolls. She stopped in front of the fireplace, and focused on the wild frantic patterns of orange sparks against blackness. It soothed her.
“Mommy, I found these,” Sophie said, tugging on Eden’s sweater.
“Oh.”
Sophie’s arms enveloped two pairs of matching fuzzy slippers, the larger ones for Eden, the smaller ones for her. They were Christmas gifts from Cade last year. Seeing them stabbed her once again with regret. Eden concealed her distress. “Thank you, sweetie.”
“It’s winter now, right? So we should wear our slippers.” Sophie sat on the floor and wriggled into hers, wrong feet of course, and headed for the snack in the kitchen.
Eden sat down and slipped on hers, absentmindedly petting the fur. She was suddenly back at the first apartment she and Cade had shared together in Landers. It was a dump. A square, concrete block, three stories high on the corner of a quiet intersection. They had arrived after dark with only the street light—which flickered irregularly and was the playground of a swarm of flying insects—to cast any light. Eden remembered being frightened.
“This is it?” Eden said, grabbing onto Cade’s arm.
“It sounded better in the paper.” Graffiti marred the dirty stucco. Litter was scattered freely on the grounds. “Maybe it’s better looking on the inside,” he added, though his tone was doubtful.
Eden decided to be brave. Not that she had a choice. She could still hear the shrill cry of her mother as she packed up Cade’s car that morning. She’d said that Eden was being foolish. Eden had to prove her wrong.
She took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Cade had the trunk open and lifted out a suitcase. Everything they owned together fit into the trunk and the back seat of the car, including a double wide foamy that was to be their bed. Eden had bought a set of cheap dishes and pots and pans, along with towels and bedding. It was all very exciting, part of their new adventure together.
The apartment was supposed to look differently. It didn’t fit the dream.
Cade headed up the stairs. The manager of the building had sent the key to him in the mail. The door was stiff and Cade had to give it a shove with his hip before it would open.
“We could move, right, find a nicer place tomorrow?” Eden asked hopefully. The stairway was dark and smelled bad. “Cade?”
“This is all we can afford for now. Maybe we can move in a month or two, after we’ve worked a while.”
“Oh. What floor are we on?” Her legs burned, stiff from sitting in the car for nine hours and her arms wrestled with the weight of the box she carried.
“The top.”
“Great.” All that stuff in the car had to be hauled up three floors, in semi-darkness.
“This is it,” Cade said. “301.”
This door opened with more ease. They stood gaping at the interior. Eden’s hopes were shattered. “Cade, if I see even one rat, one mouse, a rodent of any kind, I will scream. I mean it, I will sleep in the car.”
“Take it easy, babe. It’s not that bad.”
Eden’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see what the light would reveal. She flicked the switch. Turned out she didn’t have to worry. The power was out.
“I guess it’s too much to expect lights?”
“I have an emergency candle in the car. I’ll get it.”
Eden wasn’t about to be left alone, so she followed him. “I’ll help bring things up.”
They let the candle burn until dawn that first night. Eden had curled up under the security of Cade’s strong arm, relaxing as her breath matched his, relishing the warmth of his skin on hers. She was up to the challenge this new life would bring as long as she had him to snuggle up against every night.
The next day they’d bought cleaners and groceries and before long, it was home. After all, they were in love. They had everything they needed.
A log crackled in the fireplace, breaking the reverie. This would be Eden’s first Christmas apart from Cade since that time. She studied her slippers. She supposed she wouldn’t be getting a gift this year. Bitter images of Cade and Hillary around a tree assaulted her mind. She struggled to push them away and joined the festivities in the kitchen.
“Would you like another cookie, Mrs. Emerson?” Alice plucked one off the plate. “Now don’t crumble this one, okay? That’s rig
ht. Careful! Don’t put it in your coffee too far or you’ll burn your fingers.”
Eden brushed the pile of crumbs into her hand and threw it into the garbage. “These are good cookies, aren’t they, Mom?”
Eleanor didn’t respond to her questions anymore, but she seemed to be enjoying the cookies thoroughly.
“Would you like more milk, Sophie?” Eden asked. Sophie nodded, her cheeks puffed out like a little chipmunk’s.
Though it was early afternoon, the skies were dark with low clouds and misty rain. Eden turned on the lights.
“Gets dark early now. We’re deep into winter,” Alice said.
“Uh-huh,” said Eden. The windows framed the damp barrenness of life outside. “Do you think we’ll get snow this year?”
“I don’t know. We got a heap of snow last year, broke records like crazy. Shut the whole city down. Fortunately, it was right over Christmas.” Alice laughed. “Although those poor holiday travellers didn’t think they were so fortunate. My stubborn brother-in-law ignored the weather warnings and got held up at the airport for two days. You never met such a miserable old coot!”
Eden didn’t want to think about Christmas or anything that reminded her of Cade. Her lungs screamed for a nicotine fix but after the experience with Justin, she’d decided to quit smoking. It was the one thing she could do to demonstrate some control over her life. She’d bought a stack of anti-smoking gum, enough to hold her over the holidays. She popped another stick into her mouth.
Alice cleaned off the table. “I brought a little something to do,” she said. “Sophie, would you like to do a craft with your grandma?”
“Okay,” the little girl answered with a smile.
Alice was a dear. Eden knew that this wasn’t part of her job description. “You don’t have to do this you know, Alice?”
“I know, but for some reason I like you folks.” She winked as she said it. “Here, Sophie. You can help me set up.”
Alice handed Sophie three bottles of white glue to place onto the table, then opened up a jigsaw puzzle.
“This puzzle has too many pieces missing to be of much use anymore, as a puzzle that is.” Alice proceeded to hand them all a pre-cut rectangular piece of cardboard with a hole in the centre.
“We are going to make beautiful picture frames just by gluing puzzle pieces on this cardboard. When it’s dry, Sophie, you can put your favourite picture behind it and hang it up.”
Eden could glue and paste with the best of them, and despite herself was enjoying this time with her mother and daughter and their friend.
Then, out of the quiet concentration Sophie blurted out, “Is Daddy coming for Christmas?”
“I don’t know, baby.” But as she said the words she made a decision. She would invite Cade to join them for Christmas.
33
Eden
THE CORDLESS phone she had waited too long to purchase seared Eden’s hand, burning as hot as the flames from the fireplace that cast spastic shadows across the darkened room. She paced nervously, her heart in her throat, her mouth dry.
“Hello, Cade.” Pitched too high.
“Hello, Cade.” Too sultry. Eden nibbled her nail and winced as the pain shot up her finger.
“Hi, Cade.” Flippant. Yuck.
She sought the comfort of her oversized chair. A long, chocolate-coloured tunic along with winter-white leggings made curling up into a ball a matter of ease. She pet the fuzzy white fur of her slippers.
Her whole day had been wrought with nerves and an ebbing patience reserve. For Sophie’s sake she feigned interest in hanging up the box of dated Christmas decorations. Gaudy green and gold garland trimmed the window frame and the fireplace mantle. If Cade agreed to come, she would buy something nicer.
She had chosen the shortest story to read to Sophie and had rushed Eleanor away from her favourite sitcom. Now her fingers trembled with each fumbled attempt to dial the number she knew so well.
Deep rhythmic breaths: three, two, one, dial.
After five rings, she almost hung up, disappointed that he wasn’t home. Then he answered, “Hello.”
“Cade, it’s me, Eden.” She sprung to her feet and started pacing again.
“Oh, hi.”
“How are y’doing?”
“Fine.”
“Lots of snow up there?” The picture on the mantle of them on their wedding day stared down at Eden. She stroked it.
“What’s up, Eden? I know you didn’t call to chat about the weather.”
“Uh, you’re right. Actually, I’m calling for Sophie.” For some stupid pride-ridden reason she just had to say that. “We would like to invite you down for Christmas.”
Eden could hear a commercial playing in the background, but she thought he’d stopped breathing. Her gum chewing went into double time.
“Cade, are you coming?” It was her.
“Oh,” Eden said, “You’re not alone.”
“I want Sophie to come up here.”
Eden felt sucker-punched. “What?”
“I’ve already talked to my mom.” His voice cut like ice. “She’s agreed to bring Sophie along with her when she comes.”
“Since when does your mom join in on the holiday stuff with your dad?”
“Since now, I guess. Both of my sisters and their kids are coming, too. One big happy family.” The sarcasm wasn’t missed by Eden.
“But I was planning on having Christmas with Sophie here.”
“You have her all the time. It’s only right I get her on holidays.”
“Won’t you even think about it?” Her eyes closed tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to torrent at any moment. She hated to be weak.
“You’re the one who should have thought about these things. I want Sophie, and if I have to call my lawyer to get her, I will.”
Eden felt like she’d just fallen out of a window, breathless, landing hard with the wind knocked out of her. Her knees gave way and she collapsed onto the couch.
“When I find out the exact time Mom’s leaving, I’ll call you.” He hung up.
A heavy blackness settled on Eden’s soul and she gave the torrent permission to give way.
34
Eleanor
Ellie heard the engine of the truck before she saw it. Rustling up the nerve to greet her husband, she picked up Dana, thrust her shoulders back and stood tall. He was her husband and she loved him. Love would be enough. It had to be.
Their embrace was sweet. If only they could stay like this, the three of them, in their own little circle.
Rushing out to greet her son, Ma Emerson whisked him away from his wife, showering him with questions, declaring her concerns.
Ellie watched him leave her. She didn’t follow. She guided her daughter back to the autumn leaves but the impish grin and wobbly strut no longer sparked the laughter and joy she had experienced earlier. She clenched her jaw and pinched her eyes shut.
Thanksgiving went off without a hitch, Ellie thought, and surely Ma Emerson was pleased. Ellie was concerned about Lillian, though. She seemed quiet and was the first to leave the table. Ellie followed her.
She tapped quietly as she opened the door to a small, dimly lit bedroom. Lillian nodded her head, signalling permission for Ellie to enter. Lil’s personal belongings were few, tucked neatly away in the drawers of her dresser. A hand held mirror, a comb, a narrow vial of perfume, and a framed photo of Ellie and Josh at their graduation sat on top. Ellie picked it up, noting the broad smiles and the dark tassels hanging in their faces. Each wore a gold ‘46 pin.
She set it down gently and closed the door on the festivities that continued on the floor below. Meaningless conversation, static and music from the radio, laughter from old jokes. The noise held a pretence of happiness that made Ellie sick. The aroma of turkey dinner permeated the house, no longer appealing to overfull stomachs.
Lillian sat up on her bed and leaned up against the wall. Ellie sat close beside her.“That was quite the dinner, wasn�
��t it?”
“Yeah, Ma outdid herself again.” Lillian twisted her finger around the corner of a sheet that was more grey than white, and sighed out loud.
“Are you all right, Lillian?”
“I envy you,” she snapped. “You and Josh are such a cute couple.”
The knot in Ellie’s stomach squeezed tighter. If only Lillian knew the truth about the cold war between her and her husband. But she said nothing about it.
“I pegged you for my Josh. You know why?”
“Why?”
“’Cause I wanted a sister. I liked you, and since you didn’t have a sister, either, I thought it would be a good deal for both of us.”
“Oh, Lil!” Ellie embraced her. “You are the best sister! I couldn’t have hoped for better!”
Lillian plucked two tissues from a box on the night table beside the bed, handing one to Ellie.
“Don’t’ tell me you hid yourself away up here to ponder our friendship?”
“No, not really.”
“What is it then? Is everything okay at nursing college?”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Her voice was thin. She pinched her eyes together and swallowed. “I’m training at Eastside Clinic.”
“I heard. That’s very exciting. Hey, any cute doctors?” She expected a giggle, a denial of such interests, but instead was taken aback by an onslaught of tears. “Lillian!”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “It’s just that…” She struggled for composure.
“There is someone, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” she said weakly.
“Well, tell me about him!”
Lillian spoke with a far away look. “He’s tall, dark and handsome. Gentle and kind. And yes, he’s a doctor.”
“Wow, Lil. So?”
“Ellie, I’ll tell you this because I think you’ll understand.”
“Yes,” Ellie said tentatively.
East of the Sun: a 20th century inspirational romance. Page 12