Beholden

by Lesley Crewe

  “Don’t drown with that cast on,” Patty said.

  “Really, Patty?” her father said. “That’s the best you can do?”

  “Have a great time, squirt. Go bug other people for a change.”

  Bridie grinned.

  Mavis was playing with her food. “How long will you be gone, George?”

  “Three days. I can’t afford to take off any more than that right now.”

  “So, going to Halifax for a few days will have to wait until September, is that right?”

  I glanced over at George, who looked confused and then sheepish.

  “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”

  “Apparently.”

  Don’t do it, I thought to myself. Don’t let her bully you into reneging on your promise.

  George hesitated and my heart sank. Then he said, “I’ll take you to Halifax for a week, Mavis, to make it up to you.”

  Mavis sat there, all butter wouldn’t melt, now that she’d secured a victory over her thirteen-year-old nemesis. God. How I refrained from choking Mavis was a mystery.

  Bridie had her nose pressed to the back window of the car the entire time it took to drive to St. Peter’s. She never stopped talking and asking her Pops what it was like as a kid growing up in the country.

  “We were pretty close to town,” he said. “Your mama was further out. They lived on a real farm. My dad was a doctor, like me, so he needed to be closer to folks.”

  “Did your dad teach you to fish?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t go as often as he would’ve liked. Kind of like me, I guess.”

  “Did Uncle Donny like fishing?”

  “Yep. Fishing for girls.”

  Bridie laughed and laughed.

  I put the window down and didn’t care if the wind whipped my hair around. Looking out at the blue Bras d’Or Lakes, with green hills rolling down to the water and the smell of the ocean filling my lungs, made me feel giddy. This scenery lived in my heart, and just the sight of it made me feel like a young girl again. How I wished I were Bridie’s age and had the chance to start over. Why had I been so worried about everything back then? Life had been simple and heavenly, if only we’d known it. This was what I wanted for Bridie. The simple enjoyment of a summer’s day in the country, with wildflowers and the scent of strawberries in the air.

  I turned to say something to George as we were going around a curve and saw he was pale and perspiring.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “Just indigestion. It’ll pass.”

  We stopped at George’s house first so Aunt Jean could have a visit before we drove to River Bourgeois. She was at the clothesline when we pulled into the yard. Bridie was out the door before we’d come to a full stop. She ran up to Aunt Jean and put her arms around her as best she could with her cast.

  “Remember me?” Bridie grinned.

  “Who could forget you?” Aunt Jean laughed. She bent down and gave my girl a big hug. It made my heart glad.

  “You see, this was a great idea,” I said before I got out of the car. George was a little slower getting out. Indigestion, my eye. He was getting funny again about being home. I felt like choking him too.

  Aunt Jean had a great lunch prepared, with seafood chowder, tea biscuits, tea, and lemon meringue pie. Bridie had two pieces.

  “This is delicious, Pops’s mom. You’re a great cook.”

  “Why, thank you, honey. I baked it in your honour. And please call me Gran. That’s what Patty calls me.”

  “I’m a really good cook too, aren’t I, Mama? I’ll have to add this recipe to my repertoire.”

  Aunt Jean covered her mouth with a napkin, not quite hiding her delighted smile. She winked at me and I looked over at George. He was looking down at his soup bowl.

  It was such a pleasure to sit at a table and be able to focus on my girl. Aunt Jean wanted to know all about Bridie’s life, and Bridie happily filled her in on what was going on in her world. How she and Judith were best friends, and they liked to go up in the treehouse and spy on Patty and Ray kissing in his backyard.

  “How is that possible?” her father asked.

  “We use binoculars.”

  “Bridie, it’s not nice to spy on people. How would you like it?”

  “I’d love it!” she said. “I’d pretend I didn’t know anyone was watching and pick my nose.”

  Aunt Jean couldn’t stop laughing. After a while, George finally cheered up and relaxed, happy to show off this delightful creature to his mother. It was just the best afternoon.

  When we finally pulled into my mother’s yard, she too was sitting out waiting for us on the porch swing. Once again, Bridie made a beeline for her grandmother and nearly knocked her over with the weight of the cast. To add to the melee, our two border collies ran around in circles and jumped all over Bridie, who then took off across the yard with them yapping at her heels.

  “This is the best place in the whole world!”

  George stayed for a bit but then went back to his mother’s. He said he’d be along in the morning to take Bridie fishing. She jumped into his arms and hugged him tight before saying goodbye.

  Mom, Bridie, and I had a light supper of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, with molasses cookies for dessert. I was the happiest I’d ever been. To see the look of love on my mother’s face for this exquisite child filled me with gladness. But how I wished my dad could have spent time with her.

  At bedtime, Bridie insisted on going outside to kiss the dogs good night first. When she was ready for bed, I popped into her bedroom and sat by her side.

  “I’ve had the best day of my life. Can I live here forever?”

  “Would you like that?”

  “Oh yes. As long as Pops came with us.”

  I brushed her hair away from her forehead. “And what are the chances of that happening?”

  “Not good.”

  “You’d miss Judith.”

  “You’re right.” She gave a big yawn. “Maybe I could come here for the whole summer next year?”

  “That sounds like a grand idea.”

  She was asleep before I reached the door. When I went downstairs and joined my mom in the living room, I collapsed on Dad’s old reading chair. “What a day.”

  Mom put down her knitting. “She is the sweetest child I have ever met. And that includes you and your sister.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mom. But I know, she is, isn’t she?”

  “And she’s so beautiful, with that golden mane of hair. How sad that her people will never know about her. I wonder who her parents were? Did you ever find out any more information on that score?”

  “Nothing. As far as I know, the missing person case is still open, but no one ever did report anyone missing at the time of the accident. And who doesn’t call the police if their child is missing?”

  “It’s a mystery, all right. Let’s just be happy she came into your life, because it’s been a blessing for you. I always knew you would make a wonderful mother. Better than your sister.”

  “How is the royal pain?”

  “She’s convinced her husband is having an affair.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fraser? Fat chance! Unless he’s dating a moose.”

  “Betty’s on a campaign to spruce herself up. She dyed her hair blond.”

  “This I gotta see!”

  “It looks terrible, but I kept my mouth shut. You know what happens when you cross Betty.”

  “Are you sure we’re sisters, Mom? Did you have an affair of your own with the milkman?”

  “I wish. Luther was a good-looking fellow.”

  I was up at dawn, thinking I’d be shaking my sleepyhead awake, but she was already sitting at the kitchen table, impatiently shaking her foot. “When’s he coming?”

  “Soon. I’ll make your bre
akfast and pack you both a lunch.”

  “I can’t eat. I’m too excited.”

  “And here I thought you’d like to gather eggs from the hens this morning.”

  She bolted out of her chair. “I forgot! Can I? Can I?”

  We went out to the henhouse with a wicker basket. I showed her how to put her hand gently under the hen, but that didn’t go so well. Mother hen was not impressed and flew at Bridie, feathers flapping. We ended up gathering the eggs of the hens already eating their feed outside. Some had brown shells and the others white.

  “I want only the brown eggs!”

  I let Bridie crack the eggs in a bowl and she scrambled them up, declaring they were the most delicious eggs in the universe.

  “You’ll have to tell the hens that,” I laughed.

  George was at the door on the dot of seven. I passed him a wicker hamper with their lunch inside. “There’s a bottle of milk in there for Bridie, but you can use some of it for your tea. I put it in a Thermos.”

  “Sounds great. Come on, chicken little. Let’s go find some fish!”

  Bridie ran out to the car and sat in the front seat. As George pulled away, she rolled down her window. “I forgot to kiss you goodbye!” She blew kisses in the air until she was out of sight.

  Mom wasn’t up yet, so I poured a cup of tea and sat on the porch swing, my favourite place to sit and think. I resolved that Bridie would spend all her summers here from now on. My mother wasn’t getting any younger, and I needed to be here for longer than a day or two. Come to think of it, I wasn’t getting any younger either. It was hard to believe, but George and I were fifty-three.

  I felt my age by the end of the day and knew I should try and lose a few pounds, because I was wheezing when I went up the stairs, and a few times I’d get pain in my shoulder or arm. Mom had a heart condition. Maybe I did too, but it was too upsetting to think about. What would Bridie do without me? Who would look after her if something happened to me? And what if something happened to George? Who would my darling girl live with? Mavis would leave town and not tell Bridie where she was going. The thought of Betty coming to the rescue made me shudder; she’d have that free spirit hogtied in a matter of days.

  Sitting there in the early morning sun was supposed to be relaxing. Instead, I’d worked myself into a lather, and when Mom joined me on the swing, tears were falling down my cheeks.

  “Good gracious, child. What’s wrong?”

  “Who’s going to look after Bridie when I’m dead?”

  “Well, hopefully you’ll live until she’s a grown woman and she’ll take care of herself. I have no doubt that she’ll make it in the world with or without you. There’s just something about her.”

  That made me feel better. “I never thought about it before, but I should make a will.”

  “I thought you only made a will if you had property. Do you even own a pot to piss in?”

  I was instantly indignant but quickly fell to laughing. “You’re right. I have nothing that’s mine except Bridie’s old crib and high chair in the garage. And the clothes on my back. But I do have a small savings account if I need it, so I’m not a complete failure.”

  Mom reached over and slapped my knee. “You are not a failure at all, child. Stop being silly.”

  We sat and watched the dogs have a great game of hide-and-go-seek with the barn cats. Then my mother turned to look at me.

  “I plan on leaving the house and property to you. I just have to make the arrangements.”

  A shiver went through me, like someone had walked over my grave. “Betty will never let it happen. She’ll haunt me for the rest of my life and say you’re being unfair.”

  “I won’t be here to listen to her.”

  “That’s too generous. I don’t deserve it.”

  “I think you do. Betty has a house. She doesn’t need another one.”

  Taking my mom’s hand, I rested my head on her shoulder.

  “You don’t know your own worth, Eileen. Why do you think Bridie is as special as she is? It’s because of you.”

  I wasn’t used to doing nothing all day, so I buzzed around my mother’s house and gave it a good mucking out. It needed it. As I dusted and mopped, I thought about all of it being mine. What a lovely surprise. Maybe I could persuade George to let me live here while my mother was alive. He could come up and visit Bridie. Surely that would make Mavis and Patty happy.

  By the time Bridie and George got home, I had it all mapped out in my own head. It was a great plan. But right now, there was a little girl who was bursting to tell me about her wondrous day along the river, catching fish.

  “It was amazing, Mama! My next project is to make my own flies! Did you know there are as many flies as there are fish? Each fish loves a different kind. And it takes a lot of practise to get your line in the water. I got the hook caught in my sweater a couple of times, and once in Pops’s hat!”

  George called to Bridie from the screen door. “There’s another part of fishing you need to learn. We have to clean them next. Get Mama to give you some knives and come out to the well.”

  Bridie’s sun-kissed cheeks shone. “Oh goodie, fish guts!”

  I handed over the knives. “Point them at the ground, please.”

  Needless to say, we had a mess of trout for dinner, with new potatoes and green beans. Bridie fell asleep in my dad’s chair while she listened to the adults talk about nothing in particular. George got up to go.

  “I have to run some errands for my mother tomorrow morning, so I’ll be over after lunch to pick up Bridie. I’m not sure I could do another full day of fishing with her. She scared off more fish than we caught with her constant chattering.”

  “She needed this.” I smiled at him.

  He smiled back. “You’re right.”

  In the morning, Bridie collected the eggs by herself, and again she insisted on eating only the brown ones. She made a couple of banana loaves with my mother and rolled out the pastry for a blueberry pie, telling her grandmother that she didn’t think it was necessary to drench the blueberries with nutmeg. “Nana, cinnamon is all you need. Cinnamon, sugar, and flour.”

  “Is that so?” Mom nodded.

  “Nutmeg has a bitter aftertaste, don’t you find?”

  “Can’t say I do.”

  At ten-thirty, Betty showed up. I almost didn’t recognize her with her blond hair. It looked ghastly, but Betty was obviously proud of it. She put her purse on the table and her hands on her hips. “Well, now. Here’s a surprise! How are you, Eileen? Hello, Bridie. Let me take a look at you.”

  Bridie turned around at the kitchen counter as instructed and I could see Betty was dazzled by Bridie’s untamed tomboy beauty.

  “Look at that hair!” Betty cried. “It’s almost the same colour as mine!”

  In your dreams, I thought.

  “I think your hair would be described as brassy,” Bridie told her. “I read that in a magazine once.”

  I could see my mother’s shoulders shake up and down as she tried to keep her laughter to herself. She pretended to shine the toaster with a dishtowel.

  The wind went out of Betty’s sails. She sat at the table and crossed her legs, picking at the edge of the plastic tablecloth. I joined her.

  “How are the boys? Any future daughters-in-law in the picture?”

  “That will be the day. They’re perfectly content to let me do everything. It’s like having a herd of elephants for dinner every night. I might as well run a boarding house, with the amount of food I make.”

  Bridie sat at the table and stuck a knife down her cast to relieve the itching. I’d given up telling her to stop. “An itch needs to be scratched,” she kept telling me.

  She looked at Betty. “What’s a boarding house?”

  “You can rent rooms in your house and people stay there. You have to feed the
m too, and they pay you for it. A lot of widows do it for the money. There you go, Ma, something to think about.”

  Mom put the kettle on. “The last thing I need is a bunch of strangers in my house. I’m quite happy living alone.”

  Betty made a face. “I’d hate to live alone. I don’t know how the spinster on the hill does it, living by herself since she was young girl.”

  “What’s a spinster?” Bridie asked. “Do they always live on hills?”

  “A woman who never married,” I answered, “and no, they don’t always live on hills.”

  “So you’re a spinster?” Bridie deduced.

  “I guess I am.” I turned to Betty. “Who’s the spinster on the hill?”

  “Nell Sampson. You remember. Her parents used to own the store but they died when she was a teenager. Uncle Joe helped her get on her feet when it first happened.”

  I did remember her, of course; everyone knew when her parents died. But we’d never spoken at school that I could recall. She always kept to herself.

  “She sews beautifully,” Mom said. “Jean has several of her dresses. Don’t know why I never bothered.”

  “The kids in town call her a witch. I have to go there in a few minutes to pick up a dress I ordered a while back,” Betty said.

  “Can I go with you?!” Bridie shouted. “I’ve never seen a spinster witch. Wait until I tell Judith!”

  “No,” I said. “She’s just an ordinary woman.”

  “She can come for the drive,” Betty said.

  “Please, Mama! Please.”

  “I never see the child. What’s wrong with that? We’ll be a half hour at most.”

  I didn’t trust Betty’s driving. “I’ll go too then.”

  “Well, since we’re all going, would you like to come, Mom?” Betty asked.

  “I’ll stay home and watch the pie.”

  So off we went in Betty’s Rambler, Bridie with her face between ours, leaning over the back seat. We actually had a pleasant conversation as we travelled down the road, remembering this and that from when we were youngsters, who lived where and wondering what happened to childhood friends. Being sisters as adults was a lot easier. I found I was comfortable with my child beside me. Bridie always gave me the confidence to stick up for myself. For the first time in my life, I liked my sister. Who knew?