by Marie Landry
I had friends for the first time in my life. And not just any friends, but the best friends anyone could ask for. I didn’t know how I’d gotten so lucky, going from being completely alone to having a group of people I loved and knew I could count on. Our endless summer days and nights together—spent at home, by the river, in the park, at the diner, or on long drives—made me want to hold onto it all for as long as I could.
But as much as I wanted to keep everything the same, summer did end as it always does. The days grew shorter, the temperature gradually began to dip lower and lower, and the leaves on the trees changed from green to yellow to orange to fiery red.
Canadian geese could be heard honking in the distance—a sure sign that fall was approaching—and soon they were seen regularly, flying southward in their perfect "V" formations. The changes seemed to be happening quickly, and were much more pronounced this far north of Toronto. Even though I was only three hours away from where I grew up, Riverview seemed like a different world altogether.
It was the end of August when the changes I was noticing in Nicholas started to worry me. With the arrival of the autumn weather, he had been strangely quiet, quite unlike his usual energetic and talkative self. His face was pale despite the tan he acquired from working every day in the sun. I would have been concerned about our relationship if it wasn’t for the fact that he still kissed me tenderly, held my hand, and cuddled with me every chance we got.
Nicholas and I planned a date for the last day of August. I hadn’t seen or spoken to him much that week because he was doing overtime at work, but we decided I would meet him at his place since Sam’s vehicle was in the shop and he needed Nicholas’s truck later that night.
I put special care into my appearance, as I always did when Nicholas and I were going out. I knew it didn’t matter to him what I wore—he looked at me with the same appreciative, affectionate gleam in his eye whether I was wearing sweat pants or a nice dress. Still, I was finally beginning to believe him when he told me I was pretty, and it made me feel good about myself when I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw.
Daisy had gone shopping with a friend during the week and surprised me with several bags full of new fall clothes. There were pullover sweaters and cardigans in different materials, textures, and colours, as well as cotton pants, jeans, leggings, and a couple of brightly-coloured long-sleeved dresses. It was practically an entire autumn wardrobe, so I hugged her and thanked her repeatedly until she pried me away with a giggle.
“It was my pleasure,” Daisy said, cupping my face and kissing both my cheeks. “I was in your room the other day and saw that all you had were the clothes you arrived with and a few summer things you bought shortly after you got here. Plus a couple of my outfits, which I want back, by the way.” Her eyes danced in that way that always made me grin. “So I thought it was time for some new threads.”
Now, I called to Daisy as I made my way down the stairs, and she came rushing out of the kitchen, mixing what looked like cookie batter in a large glass bowl. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head and pinned with a large clip, and she had smudges of flour over her cheeks and nose. I had a fleeting thought that this was what a mother was supposed to look like, and what I had secretly dreamed of in childhood.
“Oh, you look terrific!” she exclaimed, signaling for me to spin around and show her the complete ensemble. I had chosen a bright red scoop-neck pullover in a soft knit material, and black loose-fitting cotton pants that swirled around my legs when I walked. Dangly silver earrings hung from my lobes, and a thin silver chain with a little star charm—more gifts from Daisy—rested in the hollow of my throat.
“Thanks to you,” I said, brushing some of the flour off her cheek before planting a noisy kiss there. “I don’t think I’m wearing a single thing that you didn’t give me.”
“Oh, speaking of which,” Daisy said with a smile, heading into the foyer and motioning for me to follow. “My black ankle boots would look great with that outfit.”
Ten minutes later, I left the house wearing not only Daisy’s ankle boots, but also her waist-length leather jacket. I felt great as I drove to the Shaw house and parked in their driveway.
With an excited bounce in my step, I dashed up the front stairs and rang the doorbell. Nicholas was usually outside waiting for me when he knew I was coming, but there was no sign of him. After a minute, I rang the doorbell again and pulled Daisy’s jacket tighter around myself against the sudden chilly breeze.
I glanced at my watch, wondering if maybe Nicholas had forgotten our date since we hadn’t spoken in a couple days. I had just gone down the steps to look up at the house for any sign of lights or movement when Sam opened the door and called to me.
“Hi, Sam,” I said, surprised, but happy to see him as I jogged back up the porch steps. “I was beginning to think you guys weren’t home. I’m supposed to meet Nicholas here for our date.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he said, an odd expression on his face. “Nicholas didn’t have time to call you, but he’s not feeling great, so he’s going to have to cancel. He says he’s really sorry and to tell you that he’ll call you when he’s feeling better.”
“Oh,” I said. Sam looked at me sympathetically as my face fell. “What’s the matter with him?”
Sam shifted from foot to foot and glanced briefly over his shoulder. Normally he would at least invite me into the front hall, especially since the temperature seemed to be dropping rapidly. “You know, I’m not sure, honey,” he said after a minute. He closed the door and put his arm around my shoulders, gently steering me down the steps and toward my car. “I’m hoping it’s nothing serious. I think he’s just run down from work, you know? And the weather turned cold so quick, that’s hard on a lot of people’s systems.”
“Right,” I said slowly, letting Sam continue to guide me down the driveway. “Well…tell Nicholas I hope he feels better soon and to call me if he needs anything.”
“Will do, darlin’,” Sam said, bending to kiss me lightly on the cheek before opening the car door for me. “Drive safe.” He closed the door and stepped back, watching as I backed out of the driveway and turned onto the street.
*****
Days passed and I didn’t hear from Nicholas. I called each morning and night to check on him, but Sam said he wasn’t doing any better and that he was spending most of the time asleep.
“Has he seen a doctor?” I asked mid-week.
Sam hesitated before answering. “Yes,” he said finally. “Doctor Bernard told him to get as much rest as possible.”
I wanted to ask if that was all the doctor said, but Sam had been acting so strange lately I didn’t want to press him.
After a week, I felt like I was going crazy. I missed Nicholas’s voice, his smile, the sound of his laughter, the gentle touch of his hand that I had grown so accustomed to. It felt like what I imagined withdrawal would be like—painful and stifling.
I would catch Daisy watching me, giving me worried glances as I wandered the house restlessly, feeling at loose ends. I tried to keep busy, knowing it was unhealthy for me to be so dependent on a boy, but it was more than that. Nicholas wasn’t just my boyfriend, he was my best friend. It was like he had become a part of me—an extension of the person I had become—and without him as a daily presence in my life, I felt like something important was missing every moment of every day.
I also couldn’t shake the fear that had started to coil in my belly when I’d seen that strange look on Sam’s face the Saturday before.
Finally, I decided to make some chicken noodle soup and take it over to Nicholas. I knew it was cliché, and that soup probably wouldn’t make him feel better, but I felt like I had to do something. It was also an excuse to go to his place; I would have been happy to see him for even a minute, just to look into his eyes and touch him, and know he would be okay.
I made the soup from scratch, using a recipe I found in Daisy’s handwritten recipe box. I added extra vegetables because I
knew that was the way Nicholas liked it. With the soup in a thermos and a basketful of rolls that Daisy had helped me make, I drove to the Shaw house once again and parked. Like the Saturday before, I had to ring the doorbell twice before Sam answered.
In the week that had gone by, he looked as though he’d aged a decade. Sam’s usually youthful face was pale and drawn, and the lines around his red-rimmed eyes were more prominent.
“I…I brought Nicholas some soup,” I said slowly, wondering if Sam had caught what Nicholas had. “I thought maybe I could take it up to him and see him for a minute. I promise I won’t stay long, I just need to see him.” I hated the note of desperation that crept into my voice as I spoke.
“That’s really sweet of you, Emma, and I’m sure he’d appreciate it, but…I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” At the look of hurt on my face, he continued. “Well, he’s sleeping right now, and even if he were awake, we’re not sure what’s wrong with him and if he’s contagious or not. Wouldn’t want you to catch anything.”
I was about to argue and say that I didn’t care if I got sick, but the look on Sam’s face stopped me. It was a mixture of fear and fatigue, and when his eyes turned pleading I felt a sudden chill roll up my spine. “Okay,” I said, barely above a whisper.
I held out the thermos and biscuits with shaking hands, and Sam took them with a nod of thanks. “I’ll just leave this with you then. When he wakes up, tell him…tell him…” My voice caught as my throat tightened with the threat of tears. “Just give him my love.”
Sam smiled weakly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I will, darlin’.” He set the food on a porch chair, and like the time before, he walked me out to my car, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and watched until my car disappeared around the corner.
I didn’t know why, but I felt a strange sense of foreboding. I had never seen Sam anything but cheerful and lively, yet I barely recognized the man I’d just left. The fact that Nicholas was sick enough to prevent him from calling me the past week had the ever-present knot of fear and worry tightening in my stomach.
If I wasn’t allowed to help care for him and if I couldn’t even see him for a single minute, there was nothing I could do but wait things out.
Feeling like I needed to be around people, I went to visit Vince and Maggie at the diner. Both of them said they hadn’t heard from Nicholas in more than a week, but they had noticed he’d been acting strange lately. Maggie thought he seemed fatigued; Vince said Nicholas was showing an unusual lack of interest in doing anything, and wasn’t the full-of-life person they had always known.
I stayed at the diner for a few hours, listening to the jukebox, or talking to Vince and Maggie when they weren’t busy. A few of the locals stopped by my table to talk, but I found it difficult to smile and carry on a conversation when my mind was elsewhere. Maggie kept bringing me food—French fries, mozzarella sticks, perogies—and refilling my root beer.
Each time she brought me something new I wondered why she kept bringing me food, but then I realized I was mindlessly eating whatever she put in front of me while my thoughts raced distractedly. She looked so concerned and kept touching my shoulder in a comforting, reassuring way that part of me wondered if she knew something I didn’t.
During one of her short breaks when she slid into the booth beside me and simply sat quietly with her hand covering mine on the table, I finally realized her actions were simply those of a loving friend. No ulterior motive, nothing to hide, just a friend being a friend. Even after all those months there were still times when it was hard for me to accept that I had people in my life who genuinely cared.
Time passed and I continued to sit in my booth; the voices of people around me were like a buzzing—indistinct and distant. There was a gnawing in my stomach that I knew was part worry, but was also likely a result of the fatty, greasy food I’d been consuming all night. I didn’t realize how late it was until the lights suddenly dimmed and I looked up to see Vince switch the Closed sign on the front door.
I slid numbly from the booth and was reaching inside my purse for my wallet when Maggie came up behind me and put her arm around my shoulders. “It’s on me. Why don’t you come spend the night at our place? We can banish Vince to the couch so you and I can have a girls’ night. We can talk or just hang out, whatever you want.”
I sighed heavily. “I really should be at home in case Nicholas calls. Or Sam.” I looked up and noticed the lines of worry between Maggie’s drawn brows. It dawned on me then that she loved Nicholas too, and was obviously worried about both of us. “Maybe you could come spend the night with me?” I asked tentatively.
Maggie smiled, the lines disappearing from her pretty face. “I’ll just be a few minutes, okay?” She gave my shoulders a squeeze before turning and running into Vince, who had been standing there looking as concerned as Maggie had a moment before.
“Just go,” he said, looking from Maggie to me, and back again. “I’ll clean up and close by myself. It shouldn’t take long.” He leaned in to kiss Maggie, and as he hugged her, I heard him whisper, “You drive Emma’s car and I’ll pick you up in the morning. Just take care of her and make sure she’s okay. I’ll keep my cell on all night.”
My eyes stung with tears as Vince released Maggie and stepped forward to enfold me in a tight embrace. “You girls have fun,” he said in a light tone I knew was forced, but had to admire him for. He ushered us to the door and made a big production of locking it behind us.
Daisy was up when we got home, so she made hot chocolate and the three of us congregated in the living room for a while. I sat beside Daisy with my body turned toward her warm, reassuring presence. My legs were tucked up under myself, and my hands were wrapped around the steaming mug, but ever since the night before when I spoke to Sam, I couldn’t get completely warmed up.
Daisy and Maggie carried on a stilted conversation, trying hard to include me, but my mind kept wandering. Finally, Daisy said she was going to bed and suggested we do the same.
I led Maggie up to my room, where I loaned her one of my nightgowns before finding one for myself. It still seemed strange to be sleeping in long-sleeved nightgowns made with heavy material when it felt like I had just been wearing my gauzy, barely-there nighties to get through the often-stifling heat of summer.
We crawled into bed and Maggie shifted closer to me. We lay on our backs with our shoulders touching, and I desperately wished it were Nicholas lying beside me. I missed him so much it was becoming a physical ache. I had never loved anyone enough to miss them this much. I guessed my former life had been a sort of ignorant bliss—I didn’t know what I was missing by having people to love and who loved me in return.
Knowing it now and having it still feel so new made it much harder. It was difficult to fathom that just a few months ago I didn’t have any friends, had never been in love, never had a friend sleep over, or had someone do anything in their power to comfort me the way Maggie had that night.
When I realized Maggie’s breathing had slowed and evened, I looked over at her and saw she’d fallen asleep. Her beautiful red hair was vibrant even in the semi-darkness of my room, spilling in riotous waves over the white pillowcase.
I turned my attention to the windows and lay there for a while longer, comforted by Maggie’s presence and knowing that if I needed her she was there. I watched the slow progression of the shifting moon until it slanted in a pearly shaft across my bed. Finally, lulled by the sound of Maggie’s breathing and the blanket of moonlight, I fell asleep.
CHAPTER 11
The next morning I awoke feeling groggy and disoriented. I was surprised to see the sun shining, filtering through my curtains to cast a golden glow throughout my room. I couldn’t believe it was morning and that I had slept all night without waking even once.
Daisy made us breakfast as she tried to keep a conversation going with Maggie much like they had the night before, but it felt forced and we ended up eating in silence. The more time went by, the more worri
ed we all were about Nicholas. Daisy and Maggie, who had both known Nicholas for years, said this wasn’t normal behaviour for him, which made me all the more worried.
While Daisy and Maggie cleared the dishes from breakfast, I slipped into the living room and called Nicholas’s house, but there was no answer. At that moment I made up my mind to see or talk to Nicholas that day, regardless of Sam’s objections. I’d had enough of sitting around worrying and wondering, and enough of feeling like a piece of me was missing.
When Maggie called Vince to pick her up later that morning, I thanked her for being such a good friend and told her I would come visit her and Vince at the diner again soon.
Maggie wrapped her arms around me, holding on tight even when I felt tears stinging my eyes and wanted to pull away. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she whispered. She released me when we heard Vince’s car turn into the driveway, and I could see her eyes glistening as she hurried out the door.
I knew her words were meant to comfort me, but as I watched them drive away, that same sense of foreboding rose again inside me, and I ran into the house to dial Nicholas’s number once more. When there was still no answer, I told Daisy I had something to do and I bolted from the house before she could ask what it was.
Behind the wheel of my car, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself before starting the engine and backing out of the driveway. I didn’t need to make the situation worse by getting into an accident because I was so distracted.
As I pulled up to the Shaw house, I thought it looked quiet—too quiet. Sam had mentioned on the phone a few days before that his truck was out of the shop; it was gone now, and Nicholas’s truck was parked near the garage. Looking up at the house, I noticed the curtains were all pulled tight against the sunlight.