by Lesley Crewe
He chuckled. “I’ll come over and drive you home the long way around.”
Much to my delight, the cabin also attracted hunters in the fall. Not that I liked hunters very much, but if they were willing to pay, I was willing to take their money. It’s a sad fact that I ignored what they were doing by day. I’m obviously not a very nice person. And then, holy cow, ice fishermen wanted it. We even had people asking if they could Ski-Doo in the winter. I didn’t know anything about Ski-Doos, but I assured them that if they wanted winter fun, St. Peter’s was a great place to come.
Danny had the great idea to advertise Gran’s place as a writer’s retreat. “They’ll come in droves all year. The next W. B. Yeats, James Joyce, or Oscar Wilde could be writing their epic at your dining room table!”
And didn’t three of them show up a month at a time through the winter. I was absolutely gobsmacked by the success of these ventures. And I had to say, it was so much easier to just run out the door at Nell’s and feed the critters. I did it in my pajamas sometimes.
Nell and I never got in each other’s way, because I was gone all day at the bank and she went to bed early. I was making a habit of living with wonderful women.
It was now the spring of 1972, and I would be twenty-two this year, living the life of Riley as the owner of two so-called boarding houses, and as another spinster on the hill. My childhood dreams had come true. My savings account was healthy, so I was my own woman financially, and I was paying for half of Nell’s expenses even though she said that wasn’t necessary.
“That’s what independent women do. They pay their own way.”
“You’re right—where’s my rent? It was due a week ago.”
It was a glorious day in May when I left work, looking forward to taking Napoleon out for a ride. There was no better way to celebrate spring than to walk through a meadow on horseback. It was hard to believe that once I’d been afraid of this horse. He was my best friend in the whole world—after Mitch, and Nell and Hobbs, and Danny and Maud, and Patty and Ray, and Pup and Kimberly. Okay, and Mavis sometimes.
I went out into the parking lot and looked up.
There was Jack.
My heart turned over and I actually wiped my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Then I stood there, numb. What was I supposed to do? Pretend I hadn’t seen him?
“Hello, Bridie.”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.
“You have long hair. It’s beautiful.”
“What are you doing here?”
“My maternal grandfather died. I came for his funeral, to pay my respects.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He’d filled out and was even more good-looking than I remembered. What bothered me was that my heart starting beating rapidly just looking at him. What would those hands feel like on me now?
“I should’ve gone home after the funeral, but I couldn’t be here and not see you. My mother thinks I’ve gone. I’m leaving right after this. Will you come with me for a drive? I’ll bring you back here.”
“No.”
He looked at his feet. I turned around to see if anyone could see us out here in the parking lot.
He raised his eyes. “Please?”
NO! I heard myself shout in my own head. “Okay,” I said out loud.
What the hell was I doing in this truck? The truck that had nearly run me over in its escape. Every nerve in my body knew I wasn’t supposed to be here; I even crouched down so no one would see me as we drove out of town.
I’m not sure how we ended up at Point Michaud beach, but suddenly we were staring at the water through the truck windshield as the waves rolled up onto the sand.
He kept looking at me, and I wanted him to stop. “What do you want, Jack?”
“I needed to be sure you were all right.”
“You could’ve written a letter.”
“Don’t be mad at me. I try not to be angry, but now that I’m back here, I realize how much I miss this place. How much I lost the night I left. You have obviously continued to make a life for yourself here, and it makes me wonder if I could do it too.”
I sighed; I didn’t know how else to respond.
“Would it bother you if I came home?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I glared at him. “Are you serious? And have everyone stare at us like we’re circus freaks? ‘There go the incestuous brother and sister.’ The old biddies would have a field day.”
“I don’t care what they think.”
“People never forget in small towns. No matter what happens in our lives from now on, we’ll always be that couple. Quite frankly, it’s been easier without you here.”
He looked away.
“We were in love, Jack. I loved you more than anything, and now you’re sitting here and it’s taking everything I have not to jump into your arms. The feelings we had for each other, have they completely disappeared? Are you telling me that you don’t want to kiss me right now?”
“I do, very much. But I can’t.” He kept his face turned away from me. “I’m married.”
My head collapsed against the seat as I gasped for air. I found the door handle and fell out of the truck, running up the beach to get away from him.
“Bridie! Come back!”
“Stay away from me!”
He caught me around the waist, twirling me around as I kicked out at him.
“Stop! Stop it, Bridie!”
Then I twisted around until we were facing each other, and I slapped him so hard that his head snapped back. “You came all the way back here to tell me you were married? Why?”
We were both out of breath, and he released me, putting his hand up to his cheek. “My mother told me you were with someone. That you were happy with him. I wanted to make sure that was true, so that I’d stop feeling guilty about loving someone else. I wanted to know that you’d gone on without me. And I wanted to find out if maybe I could come back here. I miss my family. You know my father was voted out of office, and he’s left town. But my brothers miss me, and I miss them.”
I sank to my knees in the sand and then sat, having no energy to stand anymore. He did the same. We didn’t say anything as we fought to catch our breath. The wind whipped my hair around, and I had to push it out of the way.
“I feel like a fool,” I eventually said. “I keep forgetting that this happened to you too. Is it awful of me to still have feelings for you? Am I a bad person?”
“Neither of us is bad. Love isn’t bad. I think we’ll always love each other. But that can’t stop us from moving forward.”
“Did your mother tell you who the man is?”
“No.”
“Do you want to know?”
“Okay.”
“Mitch Curry.”
Jack smiled. “Oh, he’s a great guy. I always admired the way he looked after his mother and brother. He was never in town, drinking or carrying on. He was mature for his years.”
“He had to grow up fast. Like me. And your wife?”
“Her name is Sandy. She’s very sweet and has four sisters. My mother came out to visit us and she loved her.”
“I’m glad. Your mother always wanted a girl.”
“Now she’s got five of them.”
“But won’t Sandy be sad to leave her home, if you move here?”
“We live in PEI.”
“PEI! You only went as far as PEI?!”
“My mother wasn’t made of money. That’s as far as I got.”
We started to laugh and laugh and laugh. I had never laughed like that in my life. We ended up rolling around in the sand, breathless with the absurdity of it.
Tears streamed down my face. “Here I was, picturing you as cowboy, herding cattle and eating beans by a campfire.”
�
��I work at a car dealership.”
That set us off again.
It felt so good to sit and laugh together. Turns out, that’s what I’d missed the most: his friendship. Maybe there was room for him in my life after all.
The sun was starting to set when he stood up and reached down to take my hand. We held onto each other for a long time. There was no need for words. We’d manage to figure this out.
He drove me back to my car. “One thing I wanted to know. How’s Napoleon?”
“He’s perfect. He was my greatest gift. Thank you.”
When we got to the parking lot, I leaned over and kissed his cheek before I got out of his truck.
“See ya, kiddo.”
“See ya, Bridie.”
I hadn’t even realized what a burden I had been carrying until the weight lifted on that beach. A part of me wished I could go home to an empty house and leap in the air, dance around naked for the hell of it, and make myself a banana split at midnight if I wanted to.
Maybe I’d made a mistake not getting a place of my own. Gran’s house was currently occupied by a bunch of birders from New England who were chasing some poor feathered thing that had been seen around the area. They told me it was most likely because of a bad storm. I thought maybe the poor bird needed some peace and quiet and came to Cape Breton to get away from this manic bunch.
Instead I went to sleep at Nell’s, and the next day, because it was a Saturday morning and Nell had already gone to town, I drove right to Patty’s house in Sydney.
She was in the middle of making lunch for two screaming kids and a husband who was hammering at something downstairs.
“Welcome to the madhouse,” she said. “Turn that grilled cheese over for me, will you?”
While I turned the bread, the phone rang. Patty reached over her ironing board and answered it. “Hello, Mother. What is it this time?”
Patty rolled her eyes at me while taking Kimberly’s hand out of her glass of milk.
“Look, Aunt Loretta is allowed to have a party without inviting you.”
I made a face while I watched the frying pan and tried to ignore Pup shimmying up my leg.
“It doesn’t matter if all the hospital people are going. Look, if it bothers you that much, confront her with it. It’s not like you to keep your mouth shut. All right. Call me back.”
Patty hung up the receiver. “It’s like having three kids to deal with. Pup, get off your Auntie Dee.”
We sat around the table, Kimberly deciding she wanted to be in my lap, which annoyed her brother. Patty told them if they didn’t knock it off they could go to their rooms. Ray arrived on the scene, covered in sawdust.
“Hi, Bridie.” He looked at Patty. “When’s lunch?”
“Oops,” I said. “Sorry, Ray, I ate your sandwich. I’ll make you another one.”
Patty waved her hand at me. “He can make his own lunch.”
“Do you see the way she treats me?” Ray said.
The phone rang again.
“Oh, God, it’s Mavis. I’ll be downstairs.” And he disappeared.
Once again, Patty rolled her eyes. She didn’t even say hello. “What happened? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. She said that? And what did you say? Uh-huh. Well, we can cross her off the Christmas list this year. I’m not going to call her! This has nothing to do with me! Mother! All right. I’ll call her later. I have to go.”
Patty hung up the receiver once more. “Someday I’m going to get on the Newfoundland ferry and never come back.”
“Poor you.”
“This happens constantly. I’ll call Aunt Loretta and remind her that Mom invited her to all of her cocktail parties, even if she never went, and now that Dad is gone it would be a nice gesture to include her with the hospital crowd. I know Mom can be a handful, but surely it’s no skin off Loretta’s nose if Mom sits in a corner and feels like one of the gang again. The woman spends most of her life twiddling her thumbs. Now, why are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you.”
I told her all about my meeting with Jack. She sat holding up her chin with her hand. “It’s straight out of a Harlequin romance.”
“The thing is, I think that maybe I can love him without guilt. Everything isn’t blown out of proportion. It’s like anyone’s first love. You always remember, but you don’t feel bad about it anymore. It feels good to know that he’s not crying into his beer, blaming me for ruining his life. We want each other to be happy.”
“Are you going to tell Mitch?”
“I’m happy, not stupid.”
When I got home that evening, I did spill the beans to Nell. She listened intently but didn’t say much, just that she was glad I felt better about the whole thing. Then she went to bed. To be frank, I was a little disappointed. She was supposed to love everything about me, but she seemed almost annoyed. It was weird.
The next day was Sunday, so I rode out to Mitch’s place and found him sick in bed. Well, I didn’t find him. I heard his voice yelling from the bedroom, “I’m a grown man! You can’t keep me in bed!”
“I can so!” Maud shouted back from the kitchen.
“What’s wrong with him?” If someone else was about to die on me, I was going to hold my breath until I turned blue.
“He’s got a rotten cold and he’s miserable. I told him to stay put and you’d think I threw him in jail. He’s free to get up and go if he wants, but if he pretends I’m the one who wants him in bed, he’ll stay there. He can’t seem to do it on his own.”
“Men are babies.”
“So true. Stay for lunch and keep me company.”
“Okay. Where’s Will? Are you sure he lives here? I never see him.”
“He’s a teenager. He’s allergic to his mother and his home at the moment. They grow out of it.”
“He doesn’t know how lucky he is. I lost Mama when I was thirteen. I would give away everything I have to spend another afternoon with her.”
“That’s the way I still feel about losing my mom. It’s the one thing that never goes away. A longing for your mother. When I think of the stories I heard about young men crying for their mothers while they died in battle, it breaks my heart.”
We looked at each other bleakly. Then she said, “How did we get on this topic? Want to help me hang out some clothes?”
Hanging out clothes in the spring sunshine is almost as good as riding horseback through a meadow.
While Maud warmed up some corn chowder for our lunch, I popped in to see the invalid. He was lying sprawled on his back with only his pajama bottoms on, his arm thrown over his eyes to keep out the sun.
“Hello,” I said.
He didn’t move. “That better not be you.”
“It’s me.”
“Go away. I refuse to let you see me like this.”
“From where I’m standing, you’re looking pretty good.”
He couldn’t completely hide his grin, but he didn’t move. “I’m a sick boy and you’ll get all germy and sweaty if you come near me.”
“Mmm. Sounds fun.”
Now he lifted his head. “Shh! My mother’s in the kitchen.”
“You’re right. I better go before I have my way with you.”
He threw his head back on the pillow and put his arm back over his face. “You better not be here to tell me that something needs doing at the cabin or at Gran’s. It’ll have to wait.”
“No. The birders are out stalking Foghorn Leghorn, so they’re too busy to complain about anything.”
“It hurts to laugh. Go away.”
“I love you.”
“Okay.”
“Say it back.”
“It back.”
“You’re a dope.”
“So you keep telling me. Strangely, you insist on hanging around.”
“Lunch is ready,” M
aud yelled from the kitchen. “Would you like some corn chowder, Mitch?”
“Just kill me now!” he shouted.
I left him alone.
26
One morning in June, I awoke at six to thunder and lightning and sheets of rain falling against the window. Hobbs was under my blankets, shaking.
“It’s okay, buddy. God is just bowling, or whatever people tell their kids.” He wasn’t convinced, and he stayed under the covers while I went out to the bathroom. The door to Nell’s room was still closed. That was unusual. She was always up before me.
It was chilly enough for me to go back to my room for my bathrobe and slippers. Then down the stairs to put on the kettle for tea. I let Dog and Dog out because despite the rain, they looked like they needed to pee. Cat and Cat were lying together in front of the stove. That was unusual. They purred in unison, and I petted them until the kettle eventually boiled, and the Dogs scratched at the door to come in. I had to towel them off. They were soaked.
My toast popped, and I spread peanut butter and jam on it before I took my tea to the table, looking forward to finishing up my crossword puzzle from the night before.
That’s when I saw a letter addressed to me in Nell’s handwriting:
Gone fishing.
I grabbed it and was in hysterics before I read it more closely: I haven’t gone fishing.
“Jesus Christ!” I screamed. “Are you kidding me?!” I ran to the window and saw that Nell’s car was gone. She wasn’t upstairs sleeping, which was just as well because I would have gone up there and killed her.
“What a rotten thing to do, Nell! You scared the life out of me.”
And I scared the life out of the animals. Even Hobbs was in the doorway, fretting.
“Sorry. Sorry. False alarm.” I chugged my tea down with my toast, because there was no way I was opening this letter on an empty stomach.
Then I delayed some more, putting my hands together in prayer. “Please, God. I cannot take one more thing. Do you hear me? I’m praying to you, Maggie, little mother, Mama, Pops, Nana, and Gran. If any of you care about me at all, put a good word in with the big guy and tell him I’m sick to the back teeth with drama. I want my life to be boring from here on in. Have you all got that?”