by Lesley Crewe
His father got up from the couch and held out his hand. “Son.”
They shook hands, and then Kenny sat back on the couch. He had a glass of something on the end table. Seamus pointed to it.
“A little early in the day, isn’t it?”
Kenny took a drink. “It’s Pepsi.”
Seamus rubbed his hands down the front of his pants and looked out the window. He finally had no choice but to sit. His father looked about as comfortable as he felt. “So what’s new?”
Kenny shook his head. “Not much. I’ve been fixin’ up the shed. The roof just about tore off during the last blow we had.”
“Yeah, it was a bad one.” Seamus leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his hands together, itching to get up and walk out. “You’re feeling well?”
“Aye. My hip gives out now and again, but ain’t nothing worth worryin’ about.”
“Good.”
He took another drink. “The kids are growin’ I see. Jack’s goin’ to be a big fella someday. Bigger than you.”
Seamus knew he’d say that. “Yep. He’ll be bigger then me. Smarter too, probably.”
“Aye. Sarah’s got the look of her mother. Do you ever bring them over to Sally’s people?”
“Of course, I do. They love to go.”
“Her folks see the kids more than I do then, I guess.”
“Yeah, Dad. No doubt.”
“Shame.”
Finally Seamus heard Colleen on the stairs. She entered the living room. “Well, this is nice. All of us together.” Neither her father nor her brother said anything. She kept smiling, walked over to the armchair and sat down. “Did you know, Seamus, that Dad’s going to AA? Isn’t that right, Dad?”
“Aye.”
“What’s it been, now? Six weeks?”
Kenny took another drink. “About that.”
Colleen looked at him. “Isn’t that great, Seamus?”
He nodded. “Hope it works.”
His father grunted and downed his drink. Shaking the ice cubes in his glass, he got up. “Think I’ll have another.” He walked out and into the kitchen.
“You could give him a little encouragement, you know,” Colleen frowned. “It wouldn’t kill you.”
“He’s not going to do it; you know that, don’t you?”
“You can’t give up on people, Seamus.”
“No?”
“Oh, all right. Be as stubborn as he is.” She got up and started to leave. Seamus stood too and grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry, Colleen. I know how much you want this to happen. I hope for your sake it does.”
She had tears in her eyes. “I miss Mom and we have such a little family, Seamus. I want us to get along. Is that too much to ask?”
He gathered his big sister in his arms. “You’re right. You’ve been wonderful to me and I don’t make it easy. I promise I’ll try to do better.”
“Thanks,” she sniffed.
He patted her back and then let her go. She started for the kitchen. “I have to stuff the salmon.”
“Can I help?”
“You can peel some potatoes.”
Dave finally came home from a trip to Central Supplies. Seamus helped him bring in four sheets of plywood. The visit got easier after that. Dave, who had an easy way about him, was quite the talker and he had everyone laughing before supper, teasing his father-in-law and giving Colleen’s rear end a pinch every time she went by. She finally had to threaten him with a potato masher to get him to stop. Once the kids joined in the festivities at the table, Seamus began to enjoy himself. He and his father exchanged a few jokes. It was worth it for the big smile on Colleen’s face.
Finally the kids drifted away to go back to the pirate cave of blankets and towels. The four adults sat at the table, drinking their tea and enjoying second helpings of Colleen’s famous strawberry and rhubarb pie.
“God, this is good,” Seamus said with his mouth full.
“I’ll give you the recipe,” she teased.
“You do that,” he smiled.
“Didn’t know you could get strawberries in March,” her dad said. “I think they’re from California. I got them at Sobey’s.”
Dave obviously wasn’t thinking when he blurted out, “Hey, a guy in the shop said he saw Ava Harris in Sobey’s a couple of weeks ago.”
The silence was deafening. He backtracked. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”
Seamus pretended it didn’t matter. “Don’t be sorry on my account. I couldn’t care less.” Colleen looked at him and bit her lip. He shook his fork at her. “Really, it’s okay.”
His father growled at the other end of the table. “That bitch better not come near me.”
The hairs on the back of Seamus’s neck stood at attention. He swallowed hard. “No need for name-calling.”
“She’s a bitch and she always was.”
Seamus dropped his fork to his plate. He saw Colleen and Dave give him worried looks but he didn’t care. “Don’t call her that.”
“I can call her whatever I want,” his father scowled.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Isn’t it? She made your mother’s life miserable for a long time, so I guess it is my business.”
“Leave her alone.”
His father threw his napkin on the table and pointed at him. “No. You leave her alone. If I hear of you going anywhere near her, I’ll have your hide.”
“Dad, please…” Colleen interjected.
Seamus got up from the table. “If I want to go over there tonight, I will. And not you or anyone else can tell me otherwise.”
“Then you’re a damn fool.”
“Maybe I am.” He turned to Colleen. “Sorry, I better get the kids home. Thanks for the great meal.”
Seamus walked out of the dining room, called his two protesting children and bundled them into the car. They whined all the way home, so he made it up to them by popping popcorn and letting them watch Shrek for the seventh time. Soon after that they were snuggled into bed.
When all was quiet, he went out onto the deck and watched the beach for the longest time, gathering his courage. He looked up into the night sky. “I’m sorry, Sally. Please forgive me. But I’ve always loved her.”
He went to the phone and called Libby.
The phone rang and rang. He was about to chicken out and hang up when a breathless voice answered. “Sorry, hello?”
“Ah, yes. Is Li…Ava there?”
“Who’s calling please?”
“A friend.”
The voice became business like. “I’m sorry, but unless you identify yourself I can’t summon Miss Harris to the phone.”
He looked at the receiver. Who on earth was speaking?
“Tell her it’s Seamus.”
“Ohhh. Oh my. Sorry. I’ll go get her.”
It seemed like ages before she came to the phone. She spoke his name softly. “Seamus.”
“Libby. Someone told me I called you last night.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I was drunk and I apologize for anything I might have said that was inappropriate.”
“Nothing you said was inappropriate.”
He wiped the sweat off his brow. “I can’t really remember.”
“That’s okay.”
“I’m a jerk.”
“No. Never.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry, Seamus.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Maybe we should talk.”
“Yes, but where?”
“You could meet me for coffee, maybe.”
“And have everyone in town see us together?”
Ava sighed. “You’re right. I could meet you some afternoon at Wentworth Park. By the fountain?”
“All right. How about this Monday? I can take an hour off work.” “Fine. I’ll be there at two. That is of course unless something comes up with my mother. I can’t stay long because I’m here to help Aunt Vi.” “Of course, of cou
rse.”
“I’ll see you then, Seamus.”
“Yes. See you then.”
Ava hung up the phone and went up to her room. Lola was on the bed and this time she was the one biting her fingernails. “Oh god. It was him, wasn’t it?”
Ava nodded. She flopped down on the bed and pulled the hair off her face. She stared at nothing.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Ava?”
“I have no clue.”
“Do you want to see him?”
“Yes. No. Yes.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
Ava made a face. “Why would you say something like that?”
“I don’t know,” Lola shrugged. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Wonderful. That makes me feel better.” She bounced off the bed and said over her shoulder, “I’m going to see Ma.”
Lola continued to gnaw at her nails and tried hard to make the bad feeling go away, but it wouldn’t budge.
Ava sat with her mom for a while. They talked a little, but mostly Mamie lay quietly with her eyes closed. The doctor said she was in a bit of a remission, seeing as her health stayed the same for the last couple of weeks. Of course, none of them got their hopes up, but it was a relief that she seemed stable and they were able to control her pain.
Ava did notice that her mother watched her when she didn’t think Ava was looking. She wondered why. If she turned her head suddenly, she’d catch Mamie closing her eyes. It was a strange little game and Ava wasn’t sure what it meant. She mentioned it to Rose, but of course her sister said she was foolish and blamed it on an over-active imagination.
Ava decided to test her theory by emptying the wastepaper basket. Ma definitely opened her eyes and followed her about the room, but when she turned to go sit in the chair by the bed, her mother’s eyes were closed.
She sat down. “Ma?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you looking at me?”
She opened her eyes. “I wasn’t.”
“Yes, Ma. You were.”
Her mother gave her a bit of a grin. “You caught me. You always were a smart little thing.”
“Was I?”
“Yes. You were the smartest of the bunch.”
“You never told me that before.”
“I’m telling you now.” Her mother started to cough and Ava grabbed the glass of water on the bedside table and put the bent straw to her lips.
“Thank you,” Mamie whispered when she’d taken a small sip.
Ava decided not to bother her with silly questions. She didn’t want her to use up too much of her energy, but it was her mother who spoke first.
“I look at you, because I can’t for the life of me figure out where you came from.”
Ava tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Yes.”
“I was always a bit afraid of you.”
Ava didn’t know what to say. “Oh?”
“Mmm. Strange when you think of it, a grown woman being afraid of a small child.”
“Why?”
“You were bright. You saw things. You’d look at people as if you could see right through them, and it was…uncomfortable, for want of a better word.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“And you were talented. Everyone said so. You’d play make-believe and grownups had tears in their eyes watching you, because you really believed that you were a fairy or a star or the donkey in the Nativity play. It was almost frightening.”
Ava’s mouth went dry. She’d never heard her mother talk about her. Ever. And now this outpouring. She wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“I was afraid something would happen to you. You felt too much. You felt much too much.”
Ava didn’t want her to keep talking, so she rose out of the chair, but her mother turned her face towards her. “Sit.”
Ava slowly lowered herself back in the chair.
“Why did you leave?”
She shook her head.
“You’re never going to tell me, are you?”
She looked at the floor.
“All right. I’ll leave it be.” Her mother closed her eyes. Ava got up quickly and went to the door, but before she went through it her mother said, “I know you still love him.”
She stood very still.
Her mother opened her eyes again and looked right at her. “Don’t hurt him again.”
Ava fled.
But she got only as far as downstairs before duty called. Aunt Vi hollered from the living room. “Libby, darlin’. Bring me the hot water bottle, there’s a good girl.”
She wiped her eyes on the arm of her sweater. “Sure. I’ll be right there.”
“And get me the Post,” Uncle Angus chimed in. “It should be here by now.”
Ava ran to fill the hot water bottle and bumped into Lola going down the stairs. “I’ll get the paper for you,” Lola said “Thanks.” Ava went to the bathroom sink and turned on the hot water tap. While she waited for the water to heat up, she looked at herself in the mirror. A very frightened face looked back at her. She mouthed her mother’s words. Don’t hurt him again.
She and Lola got supper ready for their three patients. Both Aunt Vi and Uncle Angus got along fairly well, considering all they’d been through, but they never would’ve managed on their own. They both had one arm and one leg out of commission, so moving about was awkward, and their unwieldy casts were uncomfortable. Their bruises had faded to that sickly colour both yellow and ghastly. Deciding Aunt Vi needed makeup to cover the worst of it, Lola gave her the full treatment. When she was done, Uncle Angus gave his wife a quick glance.
“You don’t need all that muck on your face. You look better without it.”
“You heard the man,” Aunt Vi said. “Take it off.”
Lola’s eyes widened. “Do you always do what he tells you?”
“Girl, ya gotta keep your man happy,” Aunt Vi said.
Lola passed her some tissue and a jar of Nivea cream. “I could learn a thing or two from you.”
Of course Lola should have gone home days before, but she kept making excuses not to leave, so Ava dropped the subject. She felt safe with Lola around, and her Aunt Vi loved having such an avid student. Her friend sat on the end of Aunt Vi’s bed every morning and wrote down everything she had to say about cooking and household hints and how to hang out clothes properly. She’d “ohh” and “ahh” for hours, and Aunt Vi’s chest swelled more and more each day.
Ava’s brothers Johnnie and Lauchie arrived after supper for a visit. Johnnie moved the hospital beds closer together in the living room so they could have a game of Tarbish.
Ava begged off from playing cards with the rest of them. Her excuse was she had to do the dishes. She was drying her last plate when Rose came through the door with her daughter Vicky and nieces Samantha and Emily. Rose went upstairs to sit with their mother for the evening. Ava was relieved to have three young girls to talk to. It kept her from thinking too hard.
They put their elbows on the table in unison and began peppering her with questions.
“What’s it like kissing all those gorgeous actors?” Vicky asked.
“It’s a lot of work.”
“No way,” Vicky laughed. “I don’t believe you.”
Ava folded her arms. “Okay, answer me this. What if you had to walk into your class, with everyone watching, and kiss someone you’ve never met before? And not just kiss him once, but over and over, while some of the other students fussed around you, telling you to tilt your head a little more, or drop your chin. And this person you don’t know has bad breath, but you have to kiss him as if you love him and make everyone believe it. And then after three hours in the same spot, someone says cut and the guy you were kissing pushes you away and complains long and loud about having to kiss someone with small tits, when there are plenty of other students around with bigger boobs.”
The girls looked at eac
h other. “Gross!” was the general consensus. “So you see, girls, everything is not what it seems up on the big screen.”
“Still,” Sam sighed. “You get to have someone do your makeup and hair. That must be fun.”
“It is fun when you’re going to parties or premieres, but when you have to sit in a makeup chair for a couple of hours before one scene, it gets a little dreary.”
“But all your clothes,” Emily said. “Do you get to keep them?”
“Yes. It’s in my contract.”
The girls got excited again, making Ava laugh.
“Your mother tells me the three of you are graduating this year. I can’t believe it. You were little girls when…” She looked away.
“Yes, it’s going to be great,” Vicky said. “Joey asked me to go with him.”
Ava looked at Vicky’s cousins. “Do you two have a date?”
They nodded. Sam said, “Like, you have to hook up by at least the end of March. Otherwise you’re dead. No one will take you.”
“Oh dear. That sounds dreadful.”
“Mom says I have to have my dress made, so it won’t cost too much,” Emily sighed. “I’ll look like a freak.”
Ava stood straight up. “Girls. I know what I can give you as a graduation present.”
“What?” they said excitedly.
“I’ll buy you each a prom dress. The most beautiful prom dresses anyone has ever seen!”
They started to jump up and down and scream their heads off.
“And wait!”
They held each other and didn’t move.
Ava clasped her hands together. “I’ll fly Maurice in from Hollywood to do your hair and makeup!”
The shrieks of delight were deafening. Everyone in the house yelled, “What’s the matter?” Rose ran down the stairs. Lauchie and Johnnie burst in from the living room with Lola on their heels, while Uncle Angus and Aunt Vi had to yell from their beds, “What’s going on?!”
The girls ran over to Rose but they were talking at the same time so she still didn’t know what had transpired. Finally, Lauchie gave a loud whistle. “What in the name of jumpin’ jahosiphats is goin’ on in here? You sound like a bunch of cacklin’ hens.”
Eventually the story was relayed, and then relayed again to Aunt Vi and Mamie. The girls ran upstairs to call every girl in town and tell them about their wonderful fairy godmother.