by Lesley Crewe
“Is that normal?” she whispered, when we finally got Eileen in her room. “She’s behaving like a zombie. Who sits on a chair for hours and doesn’t want to be moved?”
“It’s shock, Mavis. It affects people differently.”
“Eileen’s always been an odd duck.”
I didn’t have the energy to engage her.
The mantle clock bonged three times. It startled me. I’d fallen asleep in my chair at my desk. Now I had a bad kink in my neck. It took me a few minutes to remember why I felt out of sorts. Oh, right. Aunt Jessie was gone. She was such a nice person. I never gave her a lot of thought over the years. It was just comforting to know she was there. In the background, but someone who was always glad to see me.
My throat was parched. I went out into the kitchen and got a glass of water. I decided to take some aspirin to try and ease my neck. As I went by Eileen’s bedroom door, I opened it wider to check on her. The light from the kitchen shone on her face. She was finally in a deep sleep; her arm had fallen off the side of the bed and was hanging there. I moved towards her to tuck it in under the blanket.
The minute I touched her, I knew.
The doctor in me put my fingers on her neck to check for a pulse and started cardiopulmonary resuscitation. But even as I frantically worked on her, I knew it was a lost cause. Eventually, despair won and I laid my head on her chest and began to weep. Quietly, so as not to wake the rest of the household. This was the last time Eileen and I would be alone together, and as I knelt by the bed, I played the record of our lives.
She was always so much fun, driving her big sister crazy. Who did that remind me of? She did her best to keep up with me and Donny. I always knew she liked me, in a cousin sort of way, but hadn’t realized her feelings ran so deep. Eileen was one of those women who quietly went about their day making others feel better, whether it was through her cooking, or cleaning, or just being there with a cup of tea and a listening ear.
I had been wrong to ask so much of her. I’d taken her for granted. I’d found the best mother in the world for Bridie, but at what cost to Eileen?
“I don’t want you to go, my dearest friend. Who will save me now? Who’s going to tell me what to do?”
“I will,” said a small voice.
I whipped my head around. There was Bridie in the doorway, the light shining behind her. I fell apart. “Oh Bridie. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
She ran to me and I held her in my arms, close to my chest, just like I had the day she was born. She shuddered and cried for what seemed like forever. At one point, she had a hard time breathing, so I wiped her nose and mouth on my shirt. Then she crawled away from me and lay beside her mother.
“Mama. Mama. Can you hear me? Please, come back. Please don’t go. Pops and I need you. I love you, Mama. I’ll be good. I won’t bother Patty any more, and I’ll stay out of Mavis’s way. You need to come home.”
There was nothing I could do. I let her lie there. Even after Mavis and Patty showed up at the door, I let Bridie be with her mother. Patty started to cry and even Mavis got teary. I was touched by that.
Eileen and her mother were cremated and their ashes buried together. That was the only thing that gave Bridie some comfort. She insisted on writing out her mother’s and Nana’s favourite recipes and burying them with the remains.
Even though I knew it was risky, I didn’t even try to shield Bridie from the funeral in St. Peter’s. That would be too unkind, and she’d never have forgiven me if I’d kept her away. Besides, all my secrets seemed silly now that our world had fallen apart.
I was so proud of Bridie that day. Betty put on a ridiculous show, sobbing for all to hear that she was now an orphan, that she didn’t have any family left—which must have made Fraser and the boys feel odd, but I knew what she meant. Who was I to judge? It was terrible for her.
Bridie stayed by my side throughout the funeral, people shaking her hand or shaking their heads at the unfairness of it all. All the old biddies in town showed up to see the circus and eat their fill of the inevitable funeral spread.
One of them came creaking over and patted Bridie on the head. “Don’t worry, dearie. Your mother is now singing in a choir of angels.”
“They’ll kick her out. Uncle Donny says she sings like a foghorn.”
Somehow, we muddled through until the last person shuffled off. Donny and his crowd left to go back to Sydney because his youngest was in a Christmas pageant. Then we headed back to my mother’s. Betty didn’t want any company, and I didn’t blame her. It was very odd to have Mavis, Patty, and Bridie all together at my mother’s dining room table. I could tell my mother was nervous, as if she were entertaining royalty instead of relaxing on this trying day.
None of us said much, as it turned out. And not much was eaten either. When we were having tea and lemon loaf, Patty spoke up.
“I hope you don’t mind, Dad, but I asked Ray to pick me up tonight instead of staying over. He has a company Christmas lunch tomorrow and he asked me to go. I’d hate to disappoint him.”
I looked at my mother and wondered what she was thinking. She made it easy. “That’s a good idea, honey. You don’t want to be rushing tomorrow.”
Patty gave her grandmother a grateful look. At this point, I didn’t really care.
Mavis piped up. “Well, if that’s the case, I might as well get a drive back with you two. Why have Jean make up an extra bed?”
It was hardly an extra bed. She’d be sleeping with me.
Patty gave her mother an annoyed glance. “You don’t need to come. Ray and I never have any time alone.”
“Nonsense. It’s all settled.”
I could have stepped in and demand that Mavis stay with me, but in all honesty, I couldn’t wait for her to leave. She made my mother nervous, and the thought of just being with Bridie and my mom was appealing.
Ray showed up at four, and I could tell he was disappointed to see Mavis and her carryall bag waiting as well.
I bent down to kiss Mavis. “I’ll be another few days.”
“Take your time,” Mavis said. “It’s not like it’s going to be a cheery Christmas anyway.” And then she bent down and kissed Bridie on the cheek. “I know you’re going to miss your mama. Be a brave girl.”
She even kissed Mom goodbye. “Thanks for everything, Jean. Always a pleasure.”
She and Patty waved from the car as it drove through the snow and back out onto the highway.
We three were left wondering if we’d just witnessed to a Christmas miracle.
“Now that Mama is gone, Mavis is nice to me?” Bridie scowled. “Who does she think she’s fooling? Not me, that’s for sure. What a jerk.”
I should have said something, but I didn’t have the heart. Bridie’s face was wet with tears as she stared into the fire. She was exhausted and soon fell asleep on the couch. Mom and I were in the two easy chairs on either side of the fireplace.
“Should I let her sleep here?”
Mom nodded, so I tucked a couple of wool throws around her and banked the fire. We sat and watched the flames as they crackled and popped in front of us. Finally, a moment of quiet to try and take in our new reality.
“Suddenly, it feels like a very small family,” I mused. “Dad, Uncle Roger, Aunt Jessie, Eileen. Half of us are gone.”
“The one I feel sorry for is Bridie. How on earth do you survive when you lose your mother at thirteen? You’re going to have a hard time, son. Especially…” Her voice faded away.
“I know. Especially with Mavis.”
“Despite her display today, she’s not a demonstrative woman, even with her own child. How will you manage?”
I grunted. “Badly.”
My mother looked at me with almost pity. “Would you say your marriage is a happy one, George?”
I shook my head.
“
Why? Why did you marry her?”
The flames leapt before my eyes. “You know why.”
“Did you purposely set out to find someone who didn’t measure up?”
My temples throbbed. “Mom, I can’t deal with this right now.”
She gave a big sigh. “Someday you better figure yourself out. Before it’s too late. I’ll say good night.”
“Good night, Mom.”
She got up slowly and shuffled over to give me a kiss on the head before disappearing upstairs. I sat and watched the fire, looking over at Bridie and taking in that perfect face. The idea of raising her alone filled me with dread. I couldn’t depend on Mavis for help. Patty was almost out the door. She and Ray were probably going to be married someday. Who would Bridie turn to? The thought crossed my mind that I should quit my job, but that didn’t seem sensible. Bridie would have go to university. Being a secretary was the last thing she would aspire to.
Why wasn’t Eileen here? Why did she have to die? I should’ve pushed her to take better care of herself, especially with the history of heart disease in the family. I missed her so much. The thought of spending the rest of my life without her haunted me. Another woman I loved gone forever.
I’d never so felt so alone as I did that night. I was only a half a mile away. So near. And yet it might as well have been across an ocean.
The next day, Bridie asked if we could go and visit her grandmother’s farm. I called Betty and she said she’d meet us there. Mom wondered if it would be too much for Bridie, but I reasoned that if she asked to go, then she must be ready.
I should have asked if I was ready, because the sight of it reminded me of our fishing trip and how happy Eileen had been to be home. This was going to be bad.
Betty got out of her car and walked towards the farmhouse with her keys. Bridie followed behind her. “Where are the dogs?”
“They’re at our house.”
“And the chickens?”
“The farmer next door took them for me.”
Bridie frowned. “They’ll be sad. What about the barn cats?”
“He took them too.”
Was she telling the truth? You never knew with Betty. But surely she wouldn’t leave the cats to fend for themselves.
“Maybe we could go over and get the cats, Pops?”
Goddammit. “Sorry, sweetie. Mavis is allergic to cats.” It wasn’t Mavis’s fault, but at that moment it seemed vindictive and mean that Bridie couldn’t take something from the farm home with her. I saw her face fall.
We walked in the kitchen and it was as if Aunt Jessie and Eileen were just in another room. There were even dishes in the sink. Bridie wandered through all the rooms by herself. Betty and I sat at the table feeling miserable.
“I hate this,” Betty said. “It doesn’t seem real. I can’t believe my mother isn’t here to make me a cup of tea. Why is it always the little things that kill you?”
“I know. All I can think of is what we’re going to have for Christmas dinner. Mavis can’t boil water. I’ll have to learn how to cook.”
“Why can’t she learn how to cook? She doesn’t do anything else around the house, from what I understand.”
“Look Betty, I know that’s true, but I really don’t like people constantly saying negative things about Mavis. She is my wife, remember.”
Betty looked put-out. “Too bad she doesn’t remember that fact herself.”
“Okay, let’s drop it.”
“Fine.”
And that’s why Eileen was always my favourite cousin.
Bridie eventually wandered back into the kitchen and sat down with us. She put her elbows on the plastic red-checkered tablecloth. “I’m going to miss this room the most.”
We nodded.
“Would it be possible to have Nana’s recipe box, Aunt Betty? Will you be using it anytime soon?”
Betty looked around and got up to retrieve the little tin box from the windowsill above the sink. “I have most of these anyway. And it’s not like the boys are interested. You’re welcome to them.”
That was the first nice thing I’d seen Betty do. I could’ve kissed her.
“What about her recipe books?”
“Okay. I guess so.” Betty fiddled with the keys in her hand. “Actually, I meant to tell you that I’m selling the farm.”
“Really?” I said.
Bridie looked at her with big eyes.
“Fraser has enough property to look after, and none of the boys are interested in farming. It just seemed like the thing to do. I hate to see it go, but now that Eileen is gone, I’m the only one left. Mom didn’t leave a will, so it passes to me anyway. You have to move on, and we could use the money, to give us a little nest egg.”
“Will this be the last time I’m ever in this house?” Bridie whispered.
Betty looked uncomfortable. “I’m afraid so.”
Bridie jumped up from her chair. “That’s the meanest thing I’ve ever heard! Mama just died! What if her soul wants to come back here for a little while? How dare you sell her things? You’re supposed to be her sister!” Bridie pounded her fist on the kitchen table. It made Betty and me jump.
“I’m sorry—”
“Since you’re so eager to get rid of everything, I’m sure you won’t mind me going into Mama’s room and taking what’s hers.”
What could Betty say? “Okay, I guess.”
Bridie got up from the table. “Pops, get some boxes.”
She had Eileen’s childhood room stripped of everything inside an hour. We took the bed frame in pieces, the bureau with its round mirror, a trunk, a couple of lamps, everything in the closet, the hooked rugs, her photo albums, and miscellaneous junk that had accumulated in her desk. By the time we were finished, my station wagon looked like a covered wagon ready to head for California in the Wild, Wild West.
I don’t think Betty quite knew what hit her. By that time, Bridie was really brave. “I’d also like Nana’s pots and pans. And her cooking utensils.”
“But they’re such old pots. Most of them are banged up.”
“They’re perfect. I’d also like her favourite teacup and my mother’s favourite teacup.”
Now Betty got exasperated. “Maybe I want my mother’s favourite teacup. Have you thought of that?”
We both looked at her and the sentence hung in the air.
“Oh, all right.”
Before we got in the car, Bridie and I went into the barn to smell the air and soak up the last memories of the place.
“Someday I’m going to have a barn, Pops.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“And I’m going to fill it with critters, so I don’t have to be alone.”
She fell to her knees in the hay and I gathered her up and held her close.
“Why am I alone? Why did both my mothers leave me? God must hate me.”
“I’m so sorry, darling. Life isn’t fair, but God doesn’t hate you. He wanted you to live, and that’s why you’re here, in spite of the terrible circumstances of your birth.”
“‘My mother is gone! She’s gone, and I’ll never see her again.’ That’s what Mama said when she found out about Nana. This is how she felt. I think I’ll die of a broken heart too. Am I going to die, Pops?”
“No, sweetheart. Mama had a weak heart. You’re not going to die.”
Eventually, I dried her tears and put her down.
She looked at me with solemn eyes. “Thank you for helping me take Mama home.”
“My pleasure.”
I said farewell, to a still visibly dismayed Betty, and Bridie refused to look at her as we took our leave. When we got back to Mom’s, I showed her the car through the kitchen window.
“Bridie thought of that herself. It never would’ve occurred to me.”
Mom shook her he
ad. “That’s not how it was supposed to be. Jessie wanted Eileen to have the house, but she never got around to seeing a lawyer. You always think you have more time. And now it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, but still, it’s indecent. The funeral was yesterday, for crying out loud. What’s Betty’s hurry? Didn’t she think that perhaps I’d like a look around too? It’s my sister’s house. I’ve been in that place at least four times a week for almost fifty years. I loved my sister, but she was way too soft with that girl. Betty thinks of herself first. Good for Bridie. It never would have occurred to Betty to give something of Eileen’s to the child, so she took it for herself. I really don’t think you’re going to have to worry about her, George. Bridie is a clever girl.”
“As clever as she is, she’s still a child who needs a mother.”
Mom turned to me. “I’ll do what I can, if you’ll let me.”
I took my mother in my arms. “We’ll be back more often. I promise.”
Mavis was gobsmacked when we got home. “Where is all this stuff going? Your bedroom is already full.”
“I’m moving out of my bedroom, Mavis. I’m moving into Mama’s room. I’ll have my own suite.”
“Is that reasonable, George? A child on her own on the bottom floor of the house? Why, she could leave through the back door and we’d never know it.”
“Patty used to leave through her bedroom window until the trellis broke,” Bridie informed her.
There were times when I wished Bridie would be a little more circumspect.
We spent the rest of the morning bringing in Eileen’s belongings from the car and rearranging the bedroom and sitting room off the kitchen. Bridie worked into the night, making sure she had everything the way she wanted it. She brought down some things from her old room and took other things back up there because they didn’t fit.
I noticed she didn’t take the pots and pans, the tin recipe box, or the recipe books out to the kitchen. She put them on her windowsill as decorations. She placed her mother’s quilt over the bed and wanted her mother’s lamp on the bedside table. It was obvious that she was working constantly so she didn’t have to sit still and reflect on what had happened. I waited for more tears to come, but she remained stoic. It concerned me, because I was on the brink of tears all day, but she was like an adult, putting her head down and soldiering on. I wondered how long she could keep it up.