by Lesley Crewe
New businesses had popped up everywhere along Welton Street, with big box stores built in and around the Mayflower Mall. There were more fast food restaurants than she remembered. She was happy to see The Tasty Treat still going strong. They always did have the best ice cream.
They passed the drive-in theatre, now closed for the winter. The huge ratty old sign board read “_lose_ for th_ sea_ _ _.”
When they drove by the cut-off for the town of New Waterford, more memories crowded in, ones she wanted for forget, so she tried to erase them from her mind by concentrating on the cemetery to her right. Forest Haven looked especially peaceful on this particular day, a vast expanse of undisturbed white snow covering the brass grave markers on the ground. Her grandparents were buried there, but she couldn’t remember where exactly.
“Will you stop that?” Lola said.
Ava was aware of her heart beating too fast. “Stop what?”
“Biting your nails. You ruin every manicure you get.”
“Sorry.” Her hands were in her lap for about ten seconds before she started again.
Lola shook her head and looked out the window. “It’s so funny here.”
“Funny?”
“All the houses are made of wood or vinyl siding. I don’t see any brick anywhere.”
“I never really noticed.”
Lola pointed to a half a house. “And what the heck is that?”
“That’s what they call a company house. For the miners. Two units were built side by side. If one side falls into disrepair, sometimes they bulldoze it and leave the other half standing.”
Lola continued to gawk. “But one side of that house has shutters and a porch and the other side doesn’t have anything. And to make matters worse, they’re not even painted the same colour. I love this place!”
They turned up Water Street, a winding narrow road that followed the harbour’s edge. The houses were built facing in every direction because of old laneways that dissected some of the prop–erties.
Ava broke out in a cold sweat as they approached her father’s house. She looked at the harbour, expecting it to be changed as well, but everything was exactly the same. Bright colours adorned the fish–ing boats tied up on shore for the winter. Seagulls looked like security guards as they stood on the wharf watching for anything that might resemble food. But it wasn’t until she got out of the car and smelled the sea air that she realized she was home.
“Is this it? Why, it’s a sweet little house,” Lola cried. “Just like a movie set!”
Ava tried to see it through Lola’s eyes but wasn’t very successful. It was an ordinary shingled house in need of a fresh coat of white paint. A small porch led to the front door that no one ever used. To make your way in, you had to go around back, by the coal shed and garage. The house had two stories and a pitched roof and it was about as nondescript as it could be except for the large iron anchor that marked the property’s edge. The anchor, from her great-grandfather’s Cape Islander boat, now did duty as a signpost. The block of wood hanging from it read, The MacKinnons. It had been crooked when she left and it was still crooked.
“It looks like Anne of Green Gables’ house!” Lola said.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Well, maybe not, but is sure looks homey.”
“I can’t believe eleven people lived in this house,” Ava said. “It’s so small.”
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than the back door opened and out flowed the family.
“If it’s big enough for this lot,” Lola laughed, “it can’t be that small.”
They were swarmed and hustled inside, with Aunt Vi letting loose on some of the neighbours who gathered with their video cameras to catch a glimpse of the local girl who made good. She stormed across the yard, shooing people away as if they were chickens. “Git, the lot of ya. No use gawkin’.”
Her next-door neighbour, Thelma Steele, got a lip on. “Oh, stop being so bossy, Vi. It’s only natural people want to have a peek.”
“She’s come to visit her dyin’ Ma, Thelma. She’s not traipsing around for your gratification.”
Thelma got huffy. “No harm done if I just stand here.”
“Oh, go way with ya.” Vi turned around and practically ran back to the house. Thelma yelled to her. “Are you on sweets at Club on Wednesday?”
“Is the Pope Catholic?” Vi yelled back before she disappeared from sight.
Ava and Lola were ushered into the kitchen by way of a small back porch. Ava knew it was like no entranceway Lola had ever seen. There was an ancient washer and dryer on one side, with laundry piled up on top of it, on hangers above it and hanging off brooms and mops— something even hung on the nail holding up a calendar. The area was filled with boots and shoes of all sorts, the cat’s dish with dried goop in it, the kitty litter box shoved to one side, raincoats, overalls, baseball bats, the dog’s rawhide chew, a box of potatoes and a crate of apples. For some reason, there was even a lemon pie in a cardboard box.
Then it was on to the kitchen, but it was hard to see what it was like with the number of people in it. The one great thing about it was the smell. Fresh baking sat on racks everywhere. Lola was in heaven.
“Look at all these goodies. Did you do all this?” she asked Aunt Vi. “This? Holy Moses, this ain’t much. Let me grab you a plate,” she said as she bustled off. Uncle Angus tried to steer Ava towards the rocking chair in the corner but she managed to slip from his grasp.
“Lord, child. You’re like a slippery eel.”
“Sorry, Uncle Angus. I’d prefer to take a look around. Not much has changed, I see.” She took off her sunglasses and her eyes swept the kitchen. Her family looked at her. Rose reached up and touched her hair. “This is a fantastic colour. It’s like honey. What’s the name of it? I should get a box.”
“It’s about fifteen different shades,” Ava grinned. “It takes Maurice three hours to work his magic. No box involved.”
Her nieces all gave a collective sigh. “Who’s Maurice?” one of them asked.
“My hairdresser and makeup man.”
They sighed again. Before they asked her anything else, she cut them off. “I’m having trouble putting names to some of the younger kids. Who’s who?”
Not that she could remember them all, but she did listen carefully as each of her brothers and sisters proudly pointed out their offspring and listed the ones absent. Her eldest brother Johnnie had two sons, almost her age. Lauchie had one daughter, Hugh three boys, Sandy two girls. Gerard never married, but declared he had offspring in ev–ery town on the island. Bev had a boy and a girl, Maryette two girls, and Rose two of each.
Quite a few of them looked like their parents as Ava remembered them when she was growing up, so it wasn’t as difficult as she imag–ined keeping everyone straight. Vi insisted that they sit at the kitchen table for a cup of tea and a quick bite before venturing upstairs to see Ava’s mother. At first Ava wanted to object, but she thought the better of it. She realized she hadn’t eaten all day and maybe that was why she was feeling lightheaded.
Lola raved about the food. “Mrs.—sorry, I don’t know your last name—”
“It’s MacIntosh dear. But call me Aunt Vi. Everyone else does.”
“Well Aunt Vi, I say we bundle you up and take you back to California. You’d make a killing with these delicious desserts. Wolfgang Puck could use you as a pastry chef.”
One of the kids laughed. “Wolfgang Puck is a person? Who’d name their kid Wolfgang?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Puck, obviously,” Lola laughed.
“Do you have a mansion?” one of the girls asked Ava.
“No. It’s nice though. It’s in Malibu.”
This elicited more squeals. Then one of the boys spoke up. “How come we never go and visit you?”
The room became quiet. Ava had a hard time swallowing her blue–berry cake, so she took a gulp of strong tea. “I guess that’s because I’m not home too often.”
“
Why?”
“I travel a lot. Movies are made all over the world now.”
Rose’s daughter Vicky spoke up. “I saw your picture in People maga–zine. You were on their 50 Most Beautiful People list. Were you excited?” Ava spoke to her plate. “More embarrassed than anything.”
Aunt Vi, who had her hands in the sink washing dishes, turned around and wiped them on her apron. “Don’t be so foolish, child. Look at ya. Why, anyone can see you’re a looker.”
“She wasn’t when she was a kid,” Gerard teased. “She was as homely as a hedge fence.”
Everyone booed him down. Uncle Angus held his hands up. “Hush now. Mamie’s upstairs.”
Ava suddenly stood. “I better go see her now. Are you coming, Lola?”
Lola looked horrified. “Of course not. She doesn’t want to see me. I’ll meet her another time, you go ahead.”
Ava stayed rooted to the spot. It wasn’t until Rose came over and put her arm around her shoulders that she took a step. “It’ll be all right, Libby. It’s only Ma. She’s so anxious to see you.”
Ava had no choice but to go along with her sister. Walking up the back stairs, her feet seemed to get heavier with each step and her courage seeped away. By the time they stood in front of her mother’s bedroom door, she was breathless. Rose turned to look at her. “Now it’s going to be a shock, Libby. You haven’t seen her in ten years and she’s gone downhill pretty fast these last few weeks. But I’m right here, okay?”
Ava nodded. Rose opened the door.
CHAPTER THREE
Downstairs, the family turned their attention to Lola, who was busy chowing down on Aunt Vi’s baking. Eventually she noticed there were about twenty-five pairs of eyes on her, if you counted the dog and various cats milling about. She coughed on the last bite of a pineapple square and took a sip of tea, then patted the napkin against her red lips and balled it up on a plate.
“Oh my, that was out of this world.”
“Did you like your lunch, dear?” Aunt Vi asked.
“Lunch?”
“That’s what you had.”
“You call eating desserts lunch?”
Uncle Angus sat in the rocking chair. “Well then, my girl, what would you call it?”
“A diet crisis, but never mind, it was worth every mouthful.”
At that point most of the family left to go home and make their own suppers—as though with Ava out of the room there wasn’t much point in sticking around. Aunt Vi and Ava’s sisters Bev and Maryette, however, rushed to sit at the table with Lola. Their teenage daughters hung around the edges, hoping they wouldn’t be sent home with their fathers and brothers.
Lola looked at these female relatives of Ava’s and saw the family resemblance. They were all fair haired and none of them were what you would call big people, except of course for Aunt Vi. A few of them had red hair and almost all of them had a smattering of freckles—the same freckles Maurice said were the bane of his existence. Of course, they looked as if they could do with a little pampering, but on the whole, they were a pleasant-looking bunch. The one thing they did have in common was Ava’s lovely smile. But there was a big difference: They smiled a lot more then Ava did.
Aunt Vi clasped her hands and put them on the table. “Right now, girlie. I’d like to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Is Libby happy?”
Lola was taken aback. “Goodness. You cut right to the chase.”
“No use mincing words, as they say.”
She had to think fast. “Of course she’s happy. Why? Don’t you think so?” Aunt Vi looked at her nieces. “What do you think, girls?”
Bev and Maryette exchanged glances. Bev spoke first. “It’s hard to tell of course, since we’ve only seen her for a few minutes, but I’m not sure. I hoped to see her as she was before she left us.”
“And how was that?” Lola wanted to know.
“Bubbling.”
“She was like a fairy,” Maryette grinned.
Rose’s daughter Vicky spoke up. “Mom always says that too.”
Maryette continued. “Oh yes, she was a fairy, all right. Never in one spot too long, always flitting about, smiling and happy. And that laugh. She had a sparkling laugh.”
Uncle Angus rocked and sucked on his pipe. “I remember we used to tell her jokes or tickle her so we could hear that laugh. It was like music.”.
An unsettling feeling came over Lola. “I never knew that.”
“What do you mean?” Bev said. “You must know if you’re her friend.”
Lola cleared her throat. “Oh, I do. I do. She does have a great laugh. I mean, she never told me about you trying to trick her, that’s all.”
The others seemed satisfied with that, but Aunt Vi didn’t look fooled. “She doesn’t laugh much, does she?”
Lola was stuck. She floundered for something to say. Aunt Vi reached out and gave her hand a pat. “You’re not betraying her, dear. We aren’t her public. We’re family and we’re concerned about her.”
“But why? Why are you concerned? That’s what I don’t understand.” Aunt Vi sighed, as if impatient with such a question. “Girl, what do you call running away from home and never coming back? Does that sound like someone who’s happy?”
There was nothing else she could say. “No.”
Rose’s daughter Vicky spoke up again. She actually raised her hand, as if she were in class. “But I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t she be happy? She lives in Malibu, she’s hot, she goes out with all kinds of super hot guys and she makes millions. I’d be happy, wouldn’t you guys?” She looked at her cousins and they nodded furiously.
Aunt Vi dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “What’s that got to do with the price of eggs?”
“Huh?”
“Child, you’re too young to know what you’re talking about.”
Vicky looked peeved. “Well, if she isn’t happy, then she’s nuts.”
Bev leaned towards Lola. “Does she have a boyfriend? Someone other than her co-stars?”
Lola shrugged. “From time to time.”
“But they don’t last, do they?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
Lola shrugged again. “It’s a hard life, believe it or not. You never know whether a man wants you for you or for the actress on the screen.”
“That’s a problem?” Bev’s daughter Samantha snorted. “Who cares? She’s dated Toby James for heaven’s sake!”
“Who hasn’t?” Lola muttered.
Samantha’s mother got cross. “Okay Sam, will you girls go somewhere else, please? This isn’t your concern. We shouldn’t be discussing this in front of you anyway.”
Samantha and her cousins huffed off into the living room with complaints of always having to leave when the going got good. Once they were gone, Lola couldn’t resist.
“What happened to make her run away? She’s never said a thing to me about it. Not a word.”
Ava’s sisters looked at their Aunt Vi, who in turn looked at Uncle Angus. He nodded ever so slightly. She leaned closer to Lola and whispered, “A romance gone sour.”
“A romance? When she was seventeen?”
The ladies nodded knowingly.
Lola didn’t believe it. “Come on. No one runs away because of a high school crush.”
“This was no ordinary crush,” Maryette frowned. “We tried to tell Ma that, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“Well, what happened?”
Bev shook her head. “No one knows. That’s the strange part about it. One minute they were so in love it was scary. The next minute… poof! She was gone.”
“Well, not the next minute,” Maryette corrected her. “She was here that summer after Seamus went to New Brunswick. She was sad when he left. She didn’t want him to go.”
“She was sad before he left,” Bev added. “She wasn’t quite herself, probably because she knew he was going.”
“Who was he?”
“Onl
y the most gorgeous boy you ever laid eyes on,” Maryette sighed. “Even we were jealous of her and half of us were married!”
“What was his name?”
“Seamus O’Reilly.”
Lola laughed out loud. “You’re making that up.”
They looked at her in confusion.
So they weren’t kidding. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “It’s just that he sounds like someone from a Harlequin romance…”
Uncle Angus kept rocking. “No, my girl. There’s lots of O’Reillys around here. And Seamus is a good, old-fashioned name. Lots of Scots and Irish in this part of the world.”
“What happened to him?”
“There’s a sad story,” Aunt Vi tsked. “I’ll never forget when his mother came up to the house to speak to Mamie, saying her son’s heart was broken and who did that little madam think she was? Girl, the fur was flyin’ that day. Mamie had her finger in that poor woman’s face telling her it was all her son’s fault her daughter run off and how she’d never let another O’Reilly cross her threshold ever again. Then I think she went after her with the broom.”
“It was the coal shovel,” said Uncle Angus.
“You’re right, Angus, it was the coal shovel. Chased her halfway down Water Street. Lord have mercy, what a sight.”
Lola couldn’t believe her ears. “Good heavens, it’s like a bad movie. But where is Seamus now?”
Maryette crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “He’s still around, but we hardly ever see him.”
“Did he marry?”
“Yes,” Bev replied. “A nice little girl, Sally Hooper. A shame about her, too.”
Lola was reeling at this point. In the back of her mind she saw a Hollywood script in the making. “What about her?”
“She died after their second child was born.”
“Are you serious?”
Aunt Vi gave her a look. “Why do you think we’re lyin’ to you all the time?”
Lola put her hand on Aunt Vi’s arm. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I doubt you; I just can’t believe all this. It sounds so…”