Beholden

by Lesley Crewe

  “That’s what people do,” he said, smiling. “How does anyone get on in this world without other people? And don’t cut me off and say that you got along all your life without them. You’re turning into a terrible cynic, Nell.”

  “Hush now. You have no idea how some people live.”

  “I’ve heard lots of stories from my father. Which is why I’m going to be a doctor, just like him.”

  From that point on, that’s all I could think about. George going away to become a doctor. I brought it up at the dinner table as Dr. Mackenzie passed me a plate of carved turkey.

  “So, you’re going to have two Dr. Mackenzies in the family.”

  His parents looked surprised. “Oh?” they said together and turned to look at George.

  George gave me a look, and I realized he’d told me something in confidence, something I shouldn’t have blabbed.

  “That makes me very happy, George,” Dr. Mackenzie said. “I’m sure you’ll make a fine doctor. But shouldn’t you be applying for university if that’s what you want?”

  “I already have,” George said.

  “You’re a dark horse, son,” Dr. Mackenzie said. “If it weren’t for Nell, we’d never know what was going on.”

  Donny looked annoyed. “I told you years ago I was going to be a surgeon. You never told me it would make you happy.”

  “As long as you’re only dealing with people under sedation, Donny, you’ll be fine. A bedside manner, however, is something else.”

  All of us laughed at that. Even Donny.

  George walked me home, as it was a calm, starry night that evening. I poked at the fire inside the coal stove in the kitchen to get it going again and added another shovel. When I turned around, George was standing with his arms out, holding a small box.

  “Happy Christmas.”

  “Oh, George. I don’t have a gift for you.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  It was a gold, heart-shaped locket inset with a small pearl. I immediately put it on and looked in the small mirror above the kitchen sink. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It has your birthstone on it.”

  “I love it.” I kissed him for a long time, so long that we lost track of time and were breathless by the time we parted.

  “I don’t want to go,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Come back tonight when they think you’re asleep. I’ll keep the outside light on.”

  “Do you want to do this?”

  “More than anything.”

  And that was the start of it. We didn’t get a lot of nights together that first winter because of the snow, but once spring came, it was easier. Although after a while, George became more and more upset with the lies he was telling.

  We sat together on my settee, my hands in his thick brown hair. I traced the freckles on his face and marvelled at his straight, white teeth. He was filling out now, and he wasn’t so much like a crane fly, the name his mother would tease him with, telling him he was all knees and elbows. It made me happy to know that George was going to be taller and better-looking than Donny, since Donny still thought he was the cat’s whiskers.

  “We’re graduating high school next month,” George said. “Why can’t we tell people we’re stepping out?”

  “I don’t want people to know.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re all mine. It’s private.”

  “My mother knows I like you a lot.”

  “Your mother knowing is different. I don’t want the Myrtles and Anguses of the world knowing.”

  George smiled. “Are you aware that they’re a couple?”

  “They deserve each other.”

  I celebrated the end of my school career by buying a horse and cart, which would make things easier when I wanted to buy things in town. There was already a small sleigh in the barn that I could use in the winter. I also invested in a cow for milk, some chickens for eggs, and a goat to keep me and the horse company and the grass short. Respectively, I called the animals Cow, Chicken, and Goat. Why complicate matters?

  Having breathing animals in my life lessened the loneliness of living by myself. Soon I had some barn cats and even a dog who followed me home one day. Dog instantly made me feel better, because he barked when he heard a noise. It was reassuring to have him on patrol, although I forgot to tell George, and Dog ripped his trousers one night when he came in the back door.

  That summer, I spent all my time tending to my garden. It kept me from thinking about George going away. He didn’t talk about it, but he was going whether he said so or not. Eventually I said it for him.

  I was on my knees weeding one morning in August when he showed up on his bike with two fishing poles in his hands, a wicker basket around his shoulder.

  “Wanna go fishing?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Why not?”

  Once I got off my knees, I brushed the dirt off my hands. “Because I don’t want to spend one more minute with you not telling me when you’re going.”

  His face fell and he looked at his feet. “I don’t like thinking about it.”

  “That makes no sense. Just spill the beans.”

  “I’m going to Dalhousie in September.”

  “Halifax?”

  He nodded.

  “Next month.”

  He nodded again.

  “So, you’ll be home for Christmas and the summer?”

  “That’s about it, I guess. I don’t have a lot of money for travelling back and forth.”

  “Did it ever occur to you to not go? To do something else with your life, so you could stay here? With me?”

  He gave me a sad look and shook his head.

  My stomach was a little sick, though his news was inevitable. “I’ll miss you.”

  He dropped his bike and fishing rods and took me in his arms. “When I finish this, I’m coming back for you. We’ll be together then. Please believe that.”

  “We can’t plan that far ahead. I could be killed in a goat accident.”

  He burst out laughing. “Stop it.”

  I kissed his nose. “Go fishing. I have to finish this.”

  For the next month, our visits were bittersweet. When he came to me the night before he left, we didn’t talk at all, just spent the hours holding each other as close as we could. I had no doubt that this boy loved me.

  But when he finally left before dawn, the emptiness I felt was unlike anything I’d experienced before. I knew that my life had changed in some way, and for the first time I was frightened.

  2

  1935

  The first time George asked me to marry him was after his first year of medical school. He repeated his request every year after that and I always said the same thing.

  “No.”

  My life had a comforting routine, and I was afraid to break it. I had everything I needed and was content. People in town thought I was odd because I never socialized, but it was such a relief to not have to deal with them. The only time I did was when I sewed for them.

  George had been away for a couple of years when the girls in town started to take notice of my handmade dresses. Surprisingly, it was Myrtle who started the ball rolling.

  We bumped into each other at the post office. She looked me up and down.

  “Did you buy that from the catalogue?”

  “No. I made it.”

  “You sewed that yourself?”

  “Don’t you believe me?”

  She stared at my dress so long that it became unnerving. I turned to go.

  “Would you make a dress for me?”

  My first thought was to tell her to go jump in the lake, but something told me to hold off. If I made something for her, she’d have to pay me. I could use the money.

  I turned around. “What kind o
f dress?”

  “Angus and I are getting married. I need a going-away outfit.”

  Very quickly, I had more customers than I needed. That’s because I didn’t charge a fortune. I’d learned a few lessons on marketing at the store. Always give people a bargain and they’ll be back. And because rural people don’t have a lot of distractions, the one thing they loved to do more than anything else was gossip. While I fitted and measured women in my sewing room, they talked my ear off about what was going on in town. None of them needed any encouragement, and maybe because I was so quiet, they often told me more than they should have.

  More often than not, the women asked me about my love life.

  “What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” my mother’s customers would say.

  “I have no intention of getting married.”

  “You’ll change your mind when the right fellow comes along. I hear George came home last night.”

  They’d wait to see if I had any reaction, but I never gave myself away. It annoyed me, however, that despite our best efforts, mine and George’s names were often linked.

  He would show up about three nights after he got home. I knew he did it on purpose, but I never let on. He wanted desperately for me to miss him, and I did, but there was a part of me that didn’t want to give in. He left me. It wasn’t the other way around.

  He knocked on the kitchen door around nine that night.

  “Come in, George.”

  At the age of twenty-five, George was such a nice-looking fellow. Tall, with broad shoulders, but still a little on the slim side, with long legs and hands. His brother always envied George’s hands, since he was studying to be a surgeon. George was soon to be a gastroenterologist. I made him spell it for me the first time he told me.

  He came up behind me at the kitchen sink, and put his arms around my waist, kissing my neck. “You smell so good.”

  “I smell like goats and hens.”

  “That’s the way I like it.”

  I shook the water off my hands and wiped them with a dishtowel. Then I turned around and looked into those big brown eyes. “How long are you here for?”

  He kissed me rather than answering, so I knew something was up. Never mind. I’d find out all in good time.

  We went upstairs and the world disappeared, as it always did when we were together.

  After breakfast the next morning, we sat on the front porch with our coffee, both of us in heavy sweaters. It was spring, but in our part of the world, snow could still be peeking around the corner. I was in my rocking chair and he was on the swing, smoking his pipe. It looked like he was thinking deep thoughts, but I knew different.

  “So, how goes the dressmaking?” He took a sip of his coffee.

  “I have more than I can handle.”

  “Look at you, Miss Nell. Actually mixing with the public. That’s the part I find hard to believe.”

  “As long as they pay me, I can put up with them for a couple of hours.”

  “Who’d have thought that you’d have a business of your own?”

  “It’s hardly a business.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re making a living. Be proud of yourself.”

  When George said things like that, I believed him. I never thought of it on my own. He was the mirror I could finally see myself in.

  “And what is happening in your world?” I asked him.

  He put his head back and sucked on his pipe before he answered me. “I’ve been offered a job in Sydney.”

  “Are you going to take it?”

  He took the pipe out of his mouth. “I’d like to….”

  “But?”

  “I want you to come with me. It’s not that far away, Nell.”

  “You just said I should be proud of myself for having my own business. Why would I leave that?”

  George leaned forward and put his arms on his knees. “You can do the same thing in Sydney, Nell.”

  “And leave my home? Leave my animals? Don’t tell me I can have a farm in downtown Sydney. I’m not that naive.”

  He leaned back against the swing and put his hand through his hair. I knew he was exasperated. “I’ve asked you to marry me at least eight times, and you keep putting me off. What the devil am I supposed to do? Neither one of us is getting any younger. Don’t you want a family, Nell?”

  That was the first time he’d asked me that, and my answer slipped out before I had a chance to consider it.

  “No.”

  He looked at me in confusion. “No? Seriously?”

  I shrugged.

  Now he got up off the swing and paced along the porch. “I’m starting to lose patience. I thought maybe you were being coy and wanted to see if I actually made something of myself. It never occurred to me that all this time, the thought of living with me and having children together wasn’t what you dream of. I dream of it every day! It’s what’s kept me going all these years. Don’t you love me, Nell?”

  “I do. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. But I don’t want to be a mother. I wouldn’t be any good at it.”

  “Nonsense! You’d have me with you.”

  “You have to believe me, George. Even if I did marry you, you’d resent me after a while. I have only lonely and desperate memories of being a child. I can’t relive that time. It would haunt me.”

  George stopped pacing and gave me a stony look. “You are being deliberately melodramatic. You’ve been yanking my chain for years and I’ve been too stupid to see it.”

  I rose from my chair. “I am telling you the truth and you’re getting angry about it. Do you see why we can’t have a future together? You refuse to see me as I am—a person who needs to be on her own. How many more times are you going to ask me to marry you, and how many more times am I going to say no?”

  He shook his head and I could see the tears in his eyes. “No more. Never again. I need to move on. I will always love you, Nell. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re making a huge mistake. We could’ve walked through life together. And you know we were meant for each other. That is never going to change.”

  “I’m sorry, George.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He walked back into the house and a few moments later his car came from behind the house and slowly drove away. Truthfully, I was in a daze. It happened so fast that I had to shake my head to know it wasn’t a dream. I’d just told a man I loved to live without me. George had been my rock, and I’d thrown him away.

  I shut down. The only thing that kept me from staying in bed was having to get up to feed the critters. That’s how the days passed, one after the other.

  Two months later, George’s mother, Jean, paid me a visit, pretending she needed me to make her a dress. She was as kind as ever and brought me a lemon meringue pie. She remembered how much I enjoyed it.

  Once the measurements were done, I asked her if she’d like a cup of tea and a slice of the pie. She accepted. We had our tea at the kitchen table, with my newest housecat, Cat, sitting on one of the empty chairs.

  “He’s a handsome fellow.” Jean smiled at him and he meowed back at her.

  “It’s funny how one cat decides he doesn’t want to live in the barn anymore and just moves in. I had no say in the matter.”

  “It happens with people too. Like George.”

  I knew it. I sipped at my tea and said nothing.

  Jean took a deep breath. “None of this is my business, Nell. But I’ve known for a very long time how much George loves you. He told me he asked you to marry him and you refused. And that is within your right. I just want you to be aware that he’s mentioned a girl named Mavis a few times when he’s been home. I don’t think it’s serious yet, but it could be. I want you to be sure that this is the right decision, because I know he’d come back to you in a heartbeat if you gave hi
m the slightest encouragement.”

  She deserved the truth. “Mrs. Mackenzie, I’m not a good person. George needs someone who will give him a family, and I seriously doubt I’d be able to. I will always love him, but he’s better off without me.”

  She patted my hand. “My dear child. You are too hard on yourself. How do you know you can’t have a family?”

  “I’m sure I can, but…I just don’t want to be a mother. I don’t want to become my mother. I’m not a happy person. I’m hard to be around. George only sees me occasionally. He’d be fed up with me after a couple of weeks together in a row.”

  When she laughed, I laughed.

  She took a big gulp of tea. “You know what? You’re probably right. You know yourself better than anyone, and if that’s how you see it, then that’s how it is. And please don’t say you’re not a good person, because only a good person puts others before themselves. You just demonstrated to me that you do love my son very much. For what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong, but I promise I will stay out of your business from now on.”

  “Speaking of business, do you really want this dress?”

  “Of course! I’m about the only woman in town who doesn’t have a Nell Sampson original.”

  The first time I heard myself referred to as a spinster was about a week after my talk with Jean. I was at the back of my parents’ old store. As much as I hated going in, it was sometimes necessary, and after ten years, it at least looked quite different.

  A salesman was asking the proprietor if there was anyone around who might be interested in a set of encyclopaedias.

  “Probably not around here,” he replied.

  His wife spoke up. “What about the spinster on the hill? She’s got nothing else to do in the evenings.”

  They laughed together. The man left and I came forward with my dish soap, tins of sardines, and Epsom salts from the back of the store. The couple gave each other a guilty look as the owner rang up my purchases.