Ava Comes Home

by Lesley Crewe

  Maurice was practically salivating. “I’m tingling all over.”

  “For someone who don’t eat, you’re mighty anxious,” Uncle Angus laughed.

  “This is real food. Not that low-fat, low-carb crap we eat.”

  They heard the men come into the kitchen. “Everyone sit,” Aunt Vi ordered. They took their places around the table.

  Harold looked up. “Where are the plates?”

  Lauchie dumped a whole pile of cooked lobster on the table. “Don’t need plates.”

  Ava’s brothers instructed the guests on how to shuck a lobster. Johnnie tore the claws off. The boys did too. Then he ripped the tail off. They followed suit. But when he smashed the claw open with the side of his fist, the demo hit a snag.

  Maurice pursed his lips. “How manly.”

  “Go ahead,” Johnnie said.

  Maurice and Harold both tapped the lobster lightly with the palms of their hands. “It doesn’t seem to be working.”

  “That’s because you’re spanking them. Smash ’em, by God.”

  They raised their manicured hands and hit them. “Ow. Ow. Ow.” They shook their wrists. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

  “Try something different, then.” He picked up the tail and squeezed the back shell between his hands, prying the two halves apart and tearing out the entire tail. He dipped it in a big bowl of butter and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, saying, through his mouthful, “Now that’s eatin’.”

  Maurice and Harold tried to do the same without much luck. “We’re going to starve to death,” Maurice wailed.

  Uncle Angus pointed at his nephews. “Shuck some for the girls… ah…the boys.” In no time at all, a pile of lobster meat sat on the news–paper in front of them. They copied Johnnie and dipped their lobster in the melted butter. Everyone waited to hear the verdict.

  Maurice flapped his hands around as he swallowed his first mouthful. “My god! It’s better than an orgasm.”

  Johnnie and Lauchie gave a great shout. Johnnie took a huge swig of beer and wiped the butter off his chin. “If you think that there’s better than an orgasm, me son, then I think you better stop messin’ with the boys and get yourself a woman.”

  “I think I will!”

  Everyone hooted. Then it was down to business. There was no talk, just the sound of grunting and smashing and chewing. Lobster shells flew through the air into the plastic lined boxes at their feet. Paper

  towels were used to wipe off messy hands and faces. The rolls were gone, the potato salad bowl was licked clean and there wasn’t a lobster to be seen by the time they were done.

  Maurice sat back and groaned. “I’ve been around the world three times but I have to tell you that was the best meal of my life. Thank you gentlemen, I’ll never forget it. Never.”

  “It was,” nodded Harold. “It truly was.”

  Ava saw that her brothers were well pleased with the compliment. “Lobster season was over on the fifteenth, but maybe you boys would like to come out jiggin’ for mackerel some day.”

  “I don’t know what that is, but we’d be delighted, wouldn’t we, Harold?”

  Harold nodded, but not quite as enthusiastically as before.

  There was nothing left to do but sit and have a cup of tea. No one could face the thought of dessert. Once they’d given their bodies a bit of a breather, the women took the implements and the bowls off the table, and their guests watched in fascination as they took the plastic sheet from the corners of the table, rolled up the mess and threw it in one of the boxes. The fellas took the boxes and put them in the garbage outside and what looked like a gigantic mess two seconds earlier was wiped away clean, as if it never happened.

  Harold was fascinated. “My God, Maurice. That’s how we should host our next dinner party. Newspaper. The tablecloth of the twenty-first century.”

  They all went to bed at nine and slept like the dead.

  The first sign of impracticality about their guests staying in the house instead of a hotel was revealed the next morning. No one could get in the bathroom and by the time Maurice and Harold had had their showers there was no hot water for anyone else. It didn’t help matters that Uncle Angus got a real fright when Harold walked out of the bathroom with a shower cap on and a face full of cream. Both came down for breakfast in silk lounge wear and absolutely raved about the porridge. They were nearly overcome when Aunt Vi brought hot tea biscuits and scones to the table with her fresh strawberry jam.

  “Guys, it’s going to be a hot one today,” Ava said. “I’ve got to get to the beach. Would you like to go?”

  “Wonderful,” Maurice gushed with his mouth full.

  “Great. Lola and I will pack a picnic lunch. We leave in an hour.”

  “One hates to be greedy, but what’s on the menu tonight, Aunt Vi?” Maurice smiled as he licked jam off his fingers.

  “Well, I’ve got a mess of scallops that need to be eaten. I fry them in butter with a coat of seasoned bread crumbs and we’ll have new potatoes, fresh green beans from the garden and then we’ll finish it off with apple crisp and whipped cream for dessert.”

  Ava thought they were going to weep.

  Soon they were on their way. The girls carried a towel, a blanket for lying on, a beach umbrella, and the picnic basket. Maurice and Harold each carried a very large tote bag. Aunt Vi kissed them goodbye and away they went.

  Ava decided she’d take them to Mira Gut Beach. She’d love to have gone to the wilder Kennington Cove, but decided she didn’t want to scare the life out of them first thing. Besides, the water wasn’t as cold at Mira Gut.

  They made quite a little procession as they crossed the sand to claim their spot amid the other bathers. Lola shook open the blanket and laid it on the sand, then unfurled the umbrella and put the picnic basket in its shade. Throwing their towels aside, Ava and Lola ran to the water.

  “Get back here and put on some sunscreen!” Maurice hollered. “I have no intention of dealing with sun-damaged skin when you get back to work.”

  “Oh, brother.” The two of them trooped back and lathered up. Since it took their guests a good fifteen minutes to prepare themselves for sun exposure, the girls got fed up and once again ran down the beach. They jumped right in the water. When Maurice and Harold finally decided they were ready, they tiptoed down to the water in their designer swimwear. Both had straw hats on with silk scarves tied around the brim. They got some funny looks from kids playing in the sand.

  “I can’t wait,” Maurice hollered to Ava. Harold echoed the sentiment.

  Then each put a big toe in the water. They both screamed and ran back up under the umbrella.

  “For heaven’s sake,” Ava cried. “Don’t be such cowards.”

  “I can’t feel my toe,” Harold yelled. “Is that bad?”

  “You have to get used to it. Come on.”

  They reluctantly went to the water’s edge again and did a back and forth dance, trying to avoid the small waves cresting on the beach. They eventually got up to their ankles, but of course a jellyfish happened to float by and that was the end of that. They headed for the blanket and stayed there. The girls had a better time once the cowards were safely back on dry land.

  They floated around and did the breast stroke every so often. It wasn’t swimming, it was more like squatting on the bottom and swishing water about, but it was glorious, because the sky was a bright, almost baby blue, and the ocean was navy with a tint of green, the far shore a dark smudge in between. The sun blazed and soon the people on the beach were black shadows against the taupe sand. The salt air and the cool breeze that every so often blew across their hot shoulders was all the medicine Ava needed. It took her back to an innocent time, when her sisters took her to the beach. While they flirted with boys, she’d play in the sand quite happily by herself and, more often than not, stayed in the water too long until one of them realized her lips were purple and her skinny body was covered with goose bumps. They’d beg her not to tell Ma as they
wrapped her tightly in towels. She’d be too busy shivering to answer but she’d nod her head and, true to her word, never say a thing.

  “I think I’ll go in,” Lola said.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute. Get the boys their lunch.”

  “I’m going to dazzle them with my egg and Cheez Whiz sandwiches,” Lola said.

  Ava turned away and looked out on Mira Bay. Although everyone’s lives were pretty well back to normal, and they were able to laugh and carry on, there was still a pall of sadness. Her mother had been gone for a month now. It was hard to believe. Sometimes Ava forgot she was dead. It was easier to think of her as she did when she lived in Los Angeles. She was just away.

  But there were moments when great waves of guilt washed over her. How could she have let ten years go by? All that time wasted. The last few months with her mother were the best they’d ever spent together. To sit on the bed and talk quietly was a gift Ava didn’t deserve and she deeply regretted the hurt she’d caused her mother.

  Of course when she thought of guilt, she only had to slip her eyes to the horizon on the right. Seamus lived there. She hadn’t thought about him since the funeral, had no desire to, but maybe because she was feeling stronger now, her thoughts drifted to him more frequently. She hoped he’d be happy one day. That was the one thing she truly wished for him. He deserved to be happy, and since it was becoming obvious that their lives were not meant to be entwined, it was all she had to give him.

  Feeling a chill, Ava realized she’d been daydreaming far too long, so she left the water and wrapped herself in a towel. The others waited for her, not wanting to have their picnic without her. It was fun to talk to her three dear friends. They were her family in California. These were the people who truly cared about her and they were hard to find in a place like Hollywood. It delighted her that they seemed to take to her family.

  And why wouldn’t they? Once upon a time, when she was first caught up in the glamour of the movie business, she did think of her family as something to be ashamed of. But she was young and unsure of herself then. She’d lie awake at night and cringe at the thought that the National Enquirer would find her brother Gerard and take a picture of him with his missing front tooth. Gerard might look like a country hick, but he was the gentle giant of the family, a person who would run through fire for her. She was the one who should be ashamed.

  Ava tried to shake off these upsetting thoughts and enjoy the rest of her day, and she did for the most part, but she asked her friends if they’d mind if she stopped off at her mother’s grave on the way home.

  They drove into the country cemetery, where giant poplar trees shaded the ground. Mamie was buried in a newer section, so the trees weren’t as big, but with loving care it would be very pretty someday. They’d come out here as a family about three weeks after their mother died to lay sod around her newly installed headstone, and the girls made a flower garden in front of it. Their mother loved flowers and hummingbirds, so they hung a feeder from the tree and were delighted to see these perfect little creatures show up to keep her company.

  The other three headed back to the car to give Ava a moment alone. “One day, Ma, I’ll come back here and tell you everything you wanted to know. But not yet. Be a little more patient.” She touched the headstone. “I love you. I’m glad you and Daddy are together.”

  They were a tired bunch worn out by the sun and surf when they arrived home. Maurice and Harold yawned every minute and a half. They couldn’t understand why they could barely keep their eyes open.

  “It’s probably the fresh air,” Aunt Vi laughed. “You haven’t had any in years.”

  She put their supper on the table and they waxed poetic about their meal. Aunt Vi got the greatest kick out of their praise. She’d been serving similar suppers for fifty years and no one had ever thanked her like these two. It did her heart good.

  The rest of their stay was filled with sightseeing. Ava and Lola took Maurice and Harold over the Cabot Trail, to take in some of the most spectacular scenery in the world. They went whale watching. True to their word, Johnnie and Lauchie took the boys mackerel fishing, setting them up with their own jigs. Harold got his hooks caught in his new argyle vest and was quite distressed. They showed Maurice how to haul the jigs up and down through the water. He could hardly lift his arms after a while. “This is the most grueling cardio workout I’ve ever had.”

  Johnnie squinted through the smoke of the cigarette that was stuck to his lips. “Ya don’t say.”

  While Lauchie helped Harold untangle his jig, Maurice felt a tug on his line. “Oh my, I think I caught a shark.”

  “If ya caught a shark, son, you’d be waterskiing through the waves.”

  Johnnie helped him reel it in. A small mackerel flipped from one of the hooks. Maurice was disappointed. “I only caught one.”

  “Better than wakin’ up to a frozen boot,” Johnnie said. Maurice had no idea what this meant.

  Naturally, when Johnnie took his jig out of the water, there were all kinds of fish at the end of the line.

  “That’s no fair,” Maurice cried.

  Lauchie laughed at him. “Johnnie’s always been luckier than a dog with two dicks.”

  “Sounds delightful,” Harold said.

  In the end, they weren’t sure who enjoyed it more. Johnnie and Lauchie couldn’t wait to regale the other fishers with Maurice and Harold stories, and the other two couldn’t wait to go home and tell their friends of their adventures on the high seas.

  The week went by and it was time to pack up. Maurice and Harold were teary through the entire process. They hauled their luggage downstairs and put it in the middle of the kitchen floor. Aunt Vi, who looked mighty weepy herself, walked out of the pantry with a few tins.

  “Now, there are date squares in this one and Fat Archies in this one.” She placed the tins of goodies in their hands. “I also have some recipe cards here. I wrote down all the recipes of the dishes you’ve had since you were here. Take them home and when you’re cookin’, think of me.”

  Well, that did it. They were a mess. Ava and Lola joined in and there was a giant group hug. This is how Johnnie and Lauchie found them.

  “In the name of all that’s holy,” Lauchie shouted, “Knock off the racket.”

  “What are you doin’ here?” Ava sniffed.

  “Came to say goodbye to our buddies here.” They shook hands with Maurice and Harold.

  “Remember what I told ya,” Johnnie said. “You need any lobster for one of your big shin digs, give me a call and I’ll ship em to ya right quick. Impress those friends of yours.”

  Maurice tried to give him a hug, but Johnnie quickly picked up the bags. Lauchie did the same. “We’ll take these for ya. There’s a big car outside. Must be yours.”

  Uncle Angus was out in the garden when they marched down the stairs. He hurried over with a couple of Sobey’s bags. “I picked ya some green and yellow wax beans and some carrots. There’s a bunch a peas and a few onions. Threw in lots of little red potatoes, too.” Uncle Angus wasn’t fast enough. They grabbed him in a choke hold and squeezed him tight.

  Neither of them could speak when it came time to say farewell. Aunt Vi had to give them a wave and hurry back into the kitchen. She hated long goodbyes. They hugged the girls and Maurice whispered to Ava, “You’re the luckiest girl in the world, did you know that?”

  “I do.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It was the worst summer of his life, not counting the first one without Sally. The week after he left the MacKinnons’ yard, he was numb, going about his everyday life but almost as an observer. Colleen called every day but he didn’t answer the phone. The kids whined constantly to see their cousins but he couldn’t bring himself to reach out.

  He called Sally’s parents if he needed help and they were more than happy to provide it, although he knew that Lynn was concerned, afraid to get in the middle of a family feud. Not that he told her there was one, but she wasn’t a stupid woma
n. In the end he didn’t have to tell her because she took him aside one day and said that Colleen called her, very upset.

  “I can’t help it if Colleen is upset. That’s her problem.”

  “You’re not speaking to her, obviously. I know it’s none of my business why, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here. You know that, don’t you?”

  He gave her a tight smile. “I do know that, and I’m grateful, but this is something I have to work out for myself.”

  “All right, dear. Have it your way.”

  Roger broached the subject one day by mentioning that Seamus didn’t seem himself, but quickly dropped the matter when Seamus told him to mind his own business.

  Then one day out of the blue, his father called him. His father never called him—the last time he phoned was to tell him his mother was on the floor, unconscious.

  “Seamus.”

  “Dad?”

  “Your sister is upset.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “I think this has gone on long enough, don’t you?”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “Only what Colleen tells me. That you had a quarrel and you stopped speaking to her. I think your temper tantrum has gone on long enough.”

  “Do you?”

  “Your sister has been there for you.” He paused. “Unlike myself.”

  “Well, that’s true.”

  There was silence. “I know we’ve never been close, but I do know it would break your mother’s heart if she knew her two kids weren’t speaking to each other. So I hope you reconsider your actions. There’s been enough hurt in this family.”

  “You’re right, Dad. And most of it was because of you.”

  “I probably deserved that,” he sighed. “I’m trying to turn my life around.”

  “Too late for Mom to see it.”

  “All right, Seamus. I can see I’m not having much luck. Just be a man and call your sister.” He hung up.