by Lesley Crewe
Donalda had obviously decided to make Lexie’s day as miserable as possible. As they sat in a circle and discussed the third act, Donalda spoke up.
“I think we should change the ending.”
Lexie hit her knee with a rolled up script. “What are you talking about? How can we change the ending if the ending has to end the way it ends? It’s called Murder by Mother. It ends with a murder. By a mother.”
“How come I always play the one who gets killed?”
Lexie shrugged.
“Come to think of it, every time I get killed in the play, you happen to be the murderer. You’ve choked me, dropped me down a well, electrocuted me in a bathtub and beaten me with a rolling pin.”
“Coincidence, I’m sure.” Lexie glanced at Susan, who refused to look back.
“Well, next time we do a play, I better have the lead role.”
“Fine. But just to warn you, we’re doing Frankenstein.”
Lexie thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t. Both Todds couldn’t make rehearsal so Donalda asked Adrian if he’d read through the scene with her. It was the love scene, Lexie realized too late.
Adrian said he didn’t mind. They walked on stage and went through their lines. Donalda was so melodramatic Adrian looked a little worried. He read his part with growing apprehension. Donalda continued her advance across the stage and suddenly threw herself on him. She grabbed his neck, pulled him down and kissed him with as much passion as she could muster.
She hung off him. His arms were out to the sides in an attempt to balance them both so they wouldn’t crash to the floor. She stayed attached to his lips. When she finally came up for air, Adrian managed to get some leverage and shake her off.
“Was it good for you?”
“I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
Donalda threw Lexie a look. Adrian threw her one too. His said “get me out of here.”
The sun was barely up and Lexie was still in her pyjamas when she hung up the phone and fell into her old, beat-up chair by the fire. It was her personal life preserver, a comfortable nest on days like this.
Adrian thumped down the stairs and smiled at her as he walked past the open doors of the living-room. She heard the fridge open.
“Adrian?”
“Mmm?”
“Remind me to kill myself on Thursday.”
She heard the fridge door close. A moment later he returned with a glass of milk.
“Have some consideration, Lexie. I just got here. You wouldn’t leave me already, would you?”
“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” Lexie gave him a smirk. “You’ve haven’t been here long enough to know what a soap opera my life is. That was my mother. When you meet her, it will become abundantly clear why I must jump off the nearest cliff ASAP.”
“I haven’t met anyone. Am I a secret?”
“I’m doing you a favour. You’ll meet them all in good time. And when you do, don’t come crying to me about it.”
He sat on the floor pillow by the fireplace, next to Sophie, patting her thick coat. “What did your mom want?”
She sank deeper into her chair. “It’s half price to join Weight Watchers this week. She calls me at 7:00 a.m. to tell me this.” She glanced at him. “Is your mother a lunatic?”
He shook his head. “No. Sorry.”
She twisted her hair around her finger. “Wonderful. You could lie to me. I wouldn’t know the difference.”
Adrian put his glass on the nearest book. “I’d like to meet your mother.”
“They do know you’re here. I did tell them about you.”
“What did they say?”
The phone rang and saved her from answering.
“Get that and say I’m not here. Please.”
“You shouldn’t be afraid of your mother. She’s your mother.” Adrian reached for the phone. “She can’t drag you to this weight loss thing if you don’t want to go.”
“That’s for sure, I’d give her a hernia.”
“Hello? Yes, this is Adrian. Well, thank you. I hope we do too. No, I’m sorry, Lexie isn’t in. She just ran out to get more cat food for Sophie. You’re right, she is gigantic.”
Lexie threw a pillow at him.
“I’ll be sure to tell her you called. Yes. That would be great. Thanks. Goodbye.”
Adrian hung up the phone. “That was your mom, obviously, and she sounded awfully nice—and perfectly ordinary.”
Lexie pouted. “She is nice. When she’s not being a pain in the…”
A pillow hit her.
Every morning when Lexie went to work, Adrian told her what he had planned for the day. He still wanted to sightsee, thought he might volunteer at the food bank. He’d pick up her groceries and do any odd jobs that needed doing. If it snowed, he’d shovel the driveway, or he’d chop wood for the fire.
At first the odd jobs were done promptly, but after awhile he forgot. She didn’t like to mention it because it wasn’t important. It was just curious.
Then she noticed something. She started to look for it and sure enough it was true. Adrian was always on the beach, which was madness at this time of year. He wandered close to the shore, a lonely spectacle.
She started to knit Adrian a sweater. The wind had to chill his bones on his solitary sojourns, and she wanted him to be warm.
One night, as she sat in her chair knitting, Adrian lay in front of the fire with a book. She glanced at him and realized he was just staring into the fire.
He suddenly looked around. “Lex?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s it like to grow up in the same place your whole life?”
She counted the stitches on her needle before she answered him. “Boring.”
“No really, I want to know.”
She put down her wool. “It was fun. I played with my sisters and cousins. I have lots of them.”
“What did you do?”
She looked into the fire and smiled. “God. What didn’t we do? Went to the cottage in the summer and lived in our bathing suits. Built forts, played baseball, got into fights.”
“Fights?”
She laughed, “Mostly with my cousin Jimmy. Now there was a brat. He and my sister Beth were constantly at each others’ throats. We’d play cards on rainy days and Beth would accuse him of cheating and he’d say prove it and she’d jump across the table every time, scattering cards and glasses of pop. She’d grab him and the two of them would fall backwards out of the chair. I can see her yet, fifty pounds soaking wet and pigtails flying. But she was always right. No, you never told Beth to prove something. Because she would.”
Adrian grinned and looked back into the fire. So did Lexie. Memories swirled around as she gazed into the flames. Whenever she thought of her childhood, she always remembered the night she was let in on the family secret and was shown the moon through the coat sleeve.
The summer she turned twelve, she was considered old enough to know. The night it happened, she was beside herself. She wasn’t sure why this was so exciting. She wasn’t old enough to guess.
The adults escorted Lexie into the backyard. Her older cousins were allowed to come too. The younger ones were warned to stay indoors and away from windows.
Her father told her to lie down on the grass. As she did, she shivered, even in the warm evening air. The grass felt damp and unfamiliar. He put a coat sleeve over her face and told her to look up and see if she could see the moon.
Nothing happened at first. She thought she could see a star, but it might have been her imagination. It was dark and hot. She was suffocating. She strained to see something.
That’s when it hit her. It was a big shock.
Her father poured a small glass of water down the sleeve. She didn’t know what it was at first. She grabbed the coat and threw it away. She coughed and spit. She was mad.
“What did you do that for?”
Everyone laughed and patted her on the back. Oh, no. The big secret donned on her. Tha
t’s all it was. She couldn’t believe she’d been hoodwinked her whole life. Once she got over the humiliation, the fun started. Her sisters begged to know the secret, but she wouldn’t tell. Oh, the power it gave her.
When she sat on the porch swing that night and looked at the moon, her father came out and sat beside her. He told her she was a good sport and that he’d let her in on a little secret: When it happened to her cousin Jimmy, he cried like a baby and sulked in the garage for twenty minutes. She snuggled up against her dad. He always knew just what to say.
She was about to tell Adrian about it, when he said, “I wish I had one home I could point to and say, that’s where I grew up.”
He seemed sad.
“Listen, Adrian. Living in the same town all your life has its advantages. People know who you are, but it’s not always so wonderful.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you have a secret, it’s hard to keep. If you’re labelled a kook, a kook you’ll remain until your dying day. You can’t re-invent yourself. You’ll always be the girl who wasn’t popular in high school.”
She looked away. She hadn’t meant to say so much.
“Were you that girl?”
She shrugged. “I had three beautiful sisters in the same school.”
“You think you’re not beautiful?”
Her mouth went dry. “Well, hardly.”
“What’s your idea of beauty then?”
“Can we please stop this stupid conversation?”
“No. I want to know. What is beautiful to you?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Being thinner?”
“Beauty is warmth, Lexie.” He watched her as he spoke. “It’s comfort and peace. It’s safety and caring. It’s everything you are.”
She felt tears behind her eyes. She didn’t want him to see. She couldn’t go there so she picked up her knitting. “Well, thank you kind sir.” She turned the tables on him. “What’s it like to grow up everywhere?”
He didn’t answer her at first. She could tell he was annoyed. “Have you ever noticed when I try to compliment you, you either shut up or shut down?”
“Which is it? You can’t have it both ways.”
He sighed and put his arms behind his head. “You’re impossible.”
“Answer the question.”
“It was difficult,” he admitted. “I hated being the new kid. To say goodbye to my friends and start over. My brother thrived on new adventures, and my little sister spent so much of her life in ballet school, she wasn’t affected.” He stroked Sophie’s fur. “The only reason I didn’t go crazy was my mother. She was always there for me. She’s beautiful.”
“Adrian, if you want to call her, please do.”
“Thanks, that’s okay. I write to her. Don’t worry, I do call her occasionally, mostly to find out where they’ll be next.”
Lexie continued to knit. “I can’t imagine my mother not phoning me.”
“She loves you.”
“Of course she loves me, I just wish she wouldn’t suffocate me. That’s another thing about life in a small town. Your relatives are always in your face.” She knit another row. “She wants me to get married. What is it with mothers? Does yours bug you about that?”
“Not really. She thinks I’ll always wander, but that’s not true. I haven’t found home yet, that’s all. This island is as close as I’ve come.”
What did he mean? She didn’t look at him. It was too hard. She kept knitting, then the phone rang and for once she was glad of the distraction.
Adrian brought home an answering machine. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
“Hi there. Sophie refuses to answer the phone and I can’t right now, so you’re out of luck. Beep.”
“Lexie darling, it’s your mother. Call me back please, and for heaven’s sake change that message.”
Again.
“Lexie, it’s Mom. Are you there? Call me as soon as you get in.”
Again.
“Lexie, pick up this phone. I know you’re there.”
Again.
“Lexie, I have cancer.”
Lexie called her back.
“Hi Mom.”
“Dearest, why do I have to resort to some awful disease to get you to call me?
“Sorry.”
“I’ll forgive you.”
“I knew you would.”
“I’m having a little dinner party.”
Her mother threw wonderful parties. “Didn’t you just have one?” Lexie filled in the word for eagle’s nest in her crossword puzzle but the pencil made a hole through the newspaper, so she biffed it. She picked up a book of poetry by Leonard Cohen instead.
“This is just family. Gabby called me the other day, and from what I can gather, Richard’s about to pop the question. I think a celebration’s in order.”
She thumbed through her book. “Gabby’s had questions popped at her a hundred times. She must be pooped from all that popping.”
“You should be happy for her.”
“I am, Mother. I’m delighted. It’s the poor buggers who do the asking I feel sorry for. She’ll throw this one away too.”
“You have a cynical streak, darling, did you know that?”
“Along with my jealous streak, wild streak, and funny streak.”
“Lexie. Knock it off. By the way, feel free to bring along your roommate. That weird friend of yours or whatever he is. Is he something more?”
“No, mother, he’s just my weird friend. Would you like me to make something?”
She waited for it.
“Be a dear and bring something low cal for dessert. None of us needs the extra calories.”
“Adrian, I forgot to tell you. Mom’s having a dinner party at some point and you’ve been invited. Apparently we have to have a boo at Gabby’s new man.”
Adrian had a dust cloth in his hand. It was his day to do the chores. “Are we happy about this?”
“Well, I have to introduce you to my family at some point. Mom’s dying to meet you. She told me to bring my weird friend, so that would be you.”
“Your mother has a way with words.”
“She was an English teacher.”
He gave her a big grin. “Oh God. I ain’t goin’ then. I got no manners.”
He always made her feel better. She loved him. She thought he loved her, in a big sister sort of way.
She hated her life, so she took it out on Donalda, who happened to call with some inane question, just to snoop of course.
“Should I wear blue or red for the last scene?”
“What possible difference does it make? You’re rolled up in a rug. You’re dead.”
“Lexie, you of all people know an actor has to stay in character. But you’ve been so busy with your precious Adrian you don’t pay attention to us anymore.”
“He’s not ‘my’ Adrian and I resent that. I do pay attention to you guys.”
“You lord it over everyone because Adrian stays with you. You pretend it’s something more but everyone knows it’s a financial arrangement.”
“You know what, Donalda? You’ll never know. And I won’t tell you because it’s none of your bloody business. Come to think of it, you better wear blue. When I stab you in the last scene, I want to see lots of blood.”
Lexie hung up.
Susan would call to ask about him, hoping he’d answer the phone.
“Gee, Lex. It seems pretty strange that the only thing he does is walk along the shore. What do you think he’s doing?”
Lexie grumped, “Who knows? Beth said the same thing.”
Well, she didn’t say exactly the same thing.
Lexie sat on the toilet seat and bit her nails as Beth scrubbed the tub and delivered her thoughts on the subject.
“For the love of God, Lexie, why doesn’t he get off his ass and get a job? He’s a freeloader. He’ll suck you dry if you’re not careful. Don’t you read Anne Landers? Columns are full of stupid women who wonder if so
me guy’s taken advantage of them and the answer is always ‘duh.’”
“You don’t know him. He’s very sweet.”
“They’re always sweet.” Beth’s rear end moved to the rhythm of her scrubbing. She finally sat back on her haunches, and wiped the hair out of her face.
“Lexie, listen to me. A stranger walked into your life—what, six weeks ago? He lives in your house with no job, no family, and no friends. You know nothing about him. He doesn’t tell you anything. You’re not a dumb broad Lexie, so don’t act like one.” She turned back to the tub.
“I think he needs help. I think he’s in some kind of trouble.”
“Wonderful. He’s lazy and crazy.”
“Beth, don’t be mean. I’m serious. I asked him the other day what his favourite memory was and he said the best memories are the ones you can’t remember. Isn’t that scary?”
Beth threw her sponge. “Yes, that is scary, you blithering idiot. And I’ll tell you why. That means he’s running from something. And for all you know, it might be the law. And if that’s the case then you’ll be an accessory after the fact, for keeping him hidden.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”
Her sister got to her feet. “Fine. When I find you dead in your bed one night, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Beth’s words stuck in Lexie’s craw. She knew Beth was right, but it ticked her off anyway and her need to defend Adrian was troubling. There was nothing for it. She was going to ask Adrian point blank if he was in trouble.
She didn’t have to wait long for an opportunity to do so.
The next day was a Saturday. Lexie was curled up in her chair with a huge mug of coffee, reading a new P. D. James novel, when she heard Adrian come down the stairs.
“I’m off for a walk, Lexie. I’ll be back later.”
Now the last thing she wanted to do was to haul her bum out of her comfy spot, but this was a chance to tag along.
She threw her book aside and hurried into the hall. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all. I’ll wait.”
She dressed quickly and joined him outside. She realized it wasn’t the best day to accompany him. The wind, which blew from the northeast and was biting cold, whipped her hair and made her eyes water.