Contingency Plan

by Lou Allin

  She wiped a strand of hair from her brow. “I should use my bifocals, I guess. But Coke-bottle lenses. Yuck. They make me feel ancient.”

  The door opened, and Jane came in with a pail of shellfish. “Mom, did you know they used to dig clams here even hundreds of years ago? Can we eat them?”

  Bonnie and I exchanged amused glances. Every day brought something new for our bright girl.

  * * *

  When he returned from Toronto, Joe had made a list of every glamor spot on the island. Tofino was at the top, a five-hour drive to the wild west coast. I left Jane with Bonnie. They had rented a pile of Harry Potter DVDs for a marathon at home.

  When I saw the inn, I couldn’t imagine what the weekend had cost him, gourmet meals included. He had booked a two-bedroom suite overlooking the Pacific, and the breakers crashed just for us. There was something so comforting about being sheltered inside while a great tempest raged. Wood crackled in the fireplace. When he smiled at me, the chemistry took my breath away. But it was more than the sheer power of sexual attraction. We seemed to connect.

  “It’s more dramatic in the winter storm season,” he said as we clinked champagne flutes. “But I special-ordered some whitecaps for you. And those sea otters playing down in the cove this afternoon were on the payroll.” We stood gazing out the wall of windows.

  “Have you been here before?” I asked, the bubbles tickling my nose. Then I realized the implications. Had I spoiled the moment? I turned away and bit my lip.

  “Yes.” His voice took on a bittersweet tone. He drained the glass and set it down. “With my wife.”

  “Oh, you’ve…never mentioned her,” I said. Like a blow to the chest, this information hit me hard. How simpleminded I had been.

  He looked down. “Hurts too much, I guess. Even after five years. She died in childbirth. Maybe we waited too late. She was nearly forty. When you’re starting a career…”

  I blinked in the silence. Time to keep my mouth shut and listen. It took a special man to confess this vulnerability.

  “And the boy didn’t make it either. We’d named him Seth. After my dad.” His eyes misted over, and I took his hand. It was smooth and warm.

  He led me to the sofa, where we sat quietly. I understood what the words companionable silence meant. It happened when two people had a perfect understanding. There was no need to fill the air with chatter. But every word counted. I drank in what he told me about his search for a soul mate. Second best wasn’t good enough. Andy and I had felt the same way.

  “What do you think, Sandra? Is it too soon for you to consider a serious relationship?” he asked. His tender mouth nuzzled my ear, sending a tingle to forgotten places.

  I nodded and reached over to seal the bargain with our lips. We wouldn’t need that second bedroom tonight.

  * * *

  Later, unable to sleep, I silently padded onto the cedar deck to look at the stars. There was the Great Bear, with the Big Dipper in her belly. The wind had died into a gentle kiss of salty air. “Andy, it’s all going so fast. What should I do?” I whispered.

  In silent answer, a comet streaked across the black velvet sky. Andy had loved Jack London’s wilderness stories, especially The Call of the Wild. The young American author had packed a lot of living into his few years. What had he said? “I’d rather be ashes than dust…I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.”

  It was time to live again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Two months later we were married.

  Aunt Bonnie was my maid of honor, sparkling in a bright blue dress.

  We were at the townhouse preparing for the ceremony when Joe’s ringtone sounded. “Home Sweet Home” by Mötley Crüe. What a sentimental guy.

  He was grinning as he handed his cell to me. “Mom wants to talk to you. All the way from Quispamsis.”

  “Welcome to the family, dear,” a mellow voice said in an East Coast accent, a lilt of Irish. Her name was Sheila. “Hope you like your in-laws a bit on the crazy side. We mean no harm. Sorry Diane and I can’t be there, but I sent you something. I’m sure your wedding is going to be lovely. I know my son.”

  “How kind of you. I’m sure we’ll meet soon,” I said, glancing at Joe. He was giving an okay sign. I returned the phone.

  “Yes, Mom. Not to worry. It got here safely. Perfect timing,” Joe said. “I can’t wait to see her face. In fact, I’m not going to wait any longer.”

  After we hung up, Joe pulled a ring from his pocket. “This belonged to my grandmother. Her name was Ruby. Like the main stone, with a circle of diamonds. Your other hand looked so lonely.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, holding it to the light. “They don’t make rings like this anymore. I’ll treasure it.” The his-and-hers wedding rings had been understated and simple. I loved them. But this was a family heirloom.

  Joe had already given Bonnie a stunning orchid corsage. Jane got a small package. “Open it,” he said, watching her with pleasure. He was a man with a plan all right. He’d made all the arrangements. The honeymoon was still a secret. I was so happy, even a tent in a provincial park would have been a palace. As long as we were together.

  Jane unwrapped a gps from a leather carrying case. “Yes!” She punched the air in delight, then started exploring the features.

  “Now you’ll always know where you are. That’s very important.” Joe handed her another package.

  “Cool! Travel bugs. Thanks, Uncle Joe,” she said.

  “What are they, honey?” I asked.

  “When you put one in a cache, someone who finds it can take it all over the world. They get tracked by the number.”

  I planted a kiss on his fresh-shaven cheek. I loved how nice that felt. His skin was so smooth. Andy had had to shave twice a day or give me whisker burn.

  We were married by a local minister in the colorful late-September gardens at the Sooke Harbor House. Hosts of chrysanthemums and dahlias surrounded us. A few tourists on their way to Whiffen Spit, below the inn, stopped and clapped for us when we kissed.

  Our private dining room had a view of the bay, and the five-course meal featured smoked salmon soup and crab. Joe allowed Jane a sip of champagne.

  “Mom, it’s going to make me sneeze,” Jane said, laughing.

  “You’ll get used to it, princess,” Joe said. “All the men will be lining up for you in a few years.”

  “Here’s an old Irish toast,” Bonnie said, hoisting her glass. “May the sun…no, that’s not right. May the road…I mean the wind…”

  We made a joke about her being tipsy.

  Joe rose to save the moment, ending with “May God hold you in the palm of his hand.” Bonnie was forgetting more lately. Was it age or the beginnings of dementia? Andy hadn’t mentioned that horror in his family, had he? I didn’t want to think about that. Not today.

  “I have another surprise, ladies,” Joe said as we finished our Chocolate Decadence. He handed me a brochure from his inside pocket. “So I hope you’re packed, all of you. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon for Disneyland. No excuses.”

  “Joe, you aren’t serious. That’s too gener…generous,” I said. The wine and brandy were making everything a bit unreal. My tongue was stumbling over the longer words.

  “It’s time my girls got spoiled,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time to be the man of the house. Now smile, all of you. Smile for my mom.”

  As he checked the pictures, I turned away to the view of the harbor. A bald eagle was soaring. Then another smaller bird. His mate? It felt warm and cozy being a family again.

  * * *

  The four days in California went so fast. Aunt Bonnie and Jane made the rounds of the rides, while Joe and I had time to ourselves. We drove along the scenic coastline in a splashy Mustang convertible, enjoying leisurely lunches. Each night at dinner we’d meet Jane and Bonnie back at the hotel.

  “Thanks for your blessing,
Andy,” I said in my prayers as the plane headed back to our island. How many lucky women had had two wonderful men in their lives?

  With the recession, we sold the small townhouse in Sooke below assessment value and put the money into long-term bonds as Joe suggested. What did ten or twenty thousand dollars more matter now? From the looks of Joe’s condo in Victoria, he had been too modest about his finances. The Inner Harbor apartment was upscale with granite counters, a master suite bathroom and another for Jane. The view of Washington State and the white-capped mountains of the Olympic range took my breath away.

  One day at our former place, I was raking the last leaves before the new people moved in. I thought I saw someone walking Scout by the mailboxes.

  I walked over and knelt down to pet the dog. Same black mark on his muzzle, but he was growing into an adolescent. He kissed me over and over. “He likes you,” the older woman said.

  “Yes, I know Scout. My husband had to give him up. You must have been the people looking at him the day he came to the shelter.”

  She shook her head. “There must be some mistake. He was running loose down at French Beach. We called the crd and no one had reported him missing. So he’s found a home with us.” French Beach was almost 20 kilometers west.

  I didn’t know what to say. Driving home half in a trance, I felt my stomach turning over. When I nearly hit a woman in a crosswalk, I pulled over and took deep breaths.

  When I told Joe later, he said, “No way. I left him at the shelter in Saanich. That’s sixty or more kilometers from French Beach.”

  “I guess so, but he looked so similar. And he was friendly.”

  “Honey, border collies are engineered to look similar. When I got him at the breeder, all his siblings had exactly the same markings. And what pup wouldn’t love you?” He hugged me and planted a kiss on my ear. If you want, I can call the shelter and check.”

  “No, I’m sure you’re right, Joe.”

  Jane was staying with Bonnie in Sooke during the week until the fall term ended. Joe had plans for her to start at St. Anne’s, a private school in Victoria. “Our brilliant daughter will get the stimulation and opportunity she needs. I wouldn’t be surprised if she went all the way to a PhD. First one in the family.”

  Jane had showed me the catalog that Saturday morning. Joe was right about the challenge. She’d been at the top of her class, bored most of the time. St. Anne’s curriculum looked almost like a university’s. “There’s a special environmental studies program, Mom.” I thought she was going to dance around the room.

  Joe laughed as he poured a glass of champagne, something he vowed we’d have every night for our first month. “When the winter semester starts, we’ll all be here. For only a while,” he said. “It’s too small, don’t you agree?” Of three bedrooms, one was his home office where he sometimes worked in the evening. He and two other lawyers shared offices on Fort Street.

  “You’re probably right. Everything went at warp speed after the wedding. Getting the house ready to sell and then moving here.”

  He caressed my shoulder, finishing with a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Sweetheart, when I decide I want something, look out, world. I’ve been keeping a secret from you two. Time to fess up.” He moved to an elegant rolltop desk. Back he came with a set of drafting plans.

  “Joe, what in—?”

  He touched a finger to my lips. “Uh-uh. Look first. Talk later. We can change anything you like, darling.”

  The blueprints and sketches showed a spectacular West Coast–style home in the nearby hills. “I’ve owned five prime acres in the Highlands since I moved to the island. The well’s already in,” he said. “Take your time. This is the first house I’ve built too. I’ve been planning it in my head for years. Now what’s on your wish list? You love cooking, so if you want an even bigger kitchen, or…”

  “I never dreamed of a custom-built house,” I said. My heart was singing. With our seasonal business, Andy and I had to watch our pennies.

  “Plenty of privacy too,” he added. “I’ve had enough of the noisy city.” Even with triple-paned glass, you could hear the rush of the traffic. Victoria’s zoning laws prevented extreme high-rises where the busy streets were far below.

  In all the excitement, another thought hit me. “But out in the Highlands, what about my job? That’s a long commute,” I said.

  I had been working part-time as a library assistant in Sooke. I liked helping people, but frankly, Jane and I had needed the cash. The cost of living on the island was nearly double what we’d had to pay in the North. Joe waved his hand. “No problem taking off a few months, half a year, is there? I’m going to need your expert opinion on every inch of this home. Our home. How does that sound, Mrs. Gillette?” He held me at arm’s length, pride glowing in his eyes.

  I nodded as he turned back to the blueprints. He’d done so much work. If I really missed the job once the house was finished, I could try my luck at one of the closer regional library branches. On second thought, a volunteer job would be easier to get and more flexible. A guide at Craigdarroch Castle or another tourist attraction might be interesting. Or charity work. That might be good for a lawyer’s business.

  * * *

  In January, Jane was enrolled at St. Anne’s. She loved the challenging courses. She’d even joined the lacrosse team. Family dinners were full of laughter.

  I spent my days touring furniture stores, choosing flooring, cabinets, countertops, lighting. Joe had been right. It was a full-time job. No sooner did one stage finish, than the next began. I was pressed to get home by five thirty, which left little time to prepare dinner.

  One day I wasn’t back until six. I bustled through the door and took the groceries to the kitchen. Five squares of linoleum fell to the floor. Joe came in from the living room, a scotch in his hand. “Sandra, you should have called. What’s going on?” He looked more annoyed than worried.

  “The flooring guy wasn’t back from a job. Samples were missing. I had to wait half an hour. Then there was a jam on Douglas. Traffic was re-routed.” Why was I having to explain myself ?

  “Huh. I have a good mind to take our business elsewhere.” He finished his glass. “Call that catering place over on Gorge. Order whatever’s fastest. And next time check in. That’s what a cell’s for.”

  As I picked up the phone, I saw five more decorating magazines that Joe had brought home. There was my reading for tonight. I could put my novel away.

  * * *

  Five months later we moved into our dream home. Eight thousand square feet of cedar, glass, steel and concrete. A lap pool. Solarium. State-of-the-art video room with leather recliners. Steam washer and dryer. Exercise room with treadmill, elliptical trainer and Bowflex.

  One night I was on my laptop at the kitchen table, toying with window-dressing ideas for the downstairs suite. Swatches were spread out around me. Joe had said he wanted his mother and sister to have their own area when they visited. Funny that they hadn’t called since our wedding day or after I sent a handwritten thank-you note for the ring. We’d all been so busy. I hoped that they were all right.

  “Why not have your mom and sister come visit now? The guest suite upstairs is perfect for them,” I said to Joe.

  He was laughing at several hummingbirds dueling at the feeder. Seconds went by before he answered. “There’s the B and B. They have chickens, and a few goats and horses. Mom still wants to be a farm woman in those small ways. It takes work to arrange for someone to care for the animals. Anyway, we’re not a super clingy family. Just there for each other. That’s what counts.”

  “I guess so.” Possibly we could fly to the East Coast at Christmas.

  A short while later, Jane came running toward me in tears. “It’s gone, Mom.”

  I stood up. “What’s gone?”

  “My final science project. It’s due tomorrow. Intertidal species, remember? There’s a big blue screen with warning messages. Everything’s, like, frozen.” Her small fists were clenched.
She looked so vulnerable and defeated even though she was nearly as tall as I was.

  We hurried to her room, and I took a look. Joe was passing by in a fluffy white robe, his hair wet from a shower. “Did I hear female distress calls? What’s up, ladies?”

  Jane stuttered out computer language I didn’t understand.

  He sat at the screen and fiddled. “Do you have a memory stick, Jane?” he asked. She got him one.

  Jane was struggling not to cry.

  “No luck retrieving the data,” he said after a minute. He stood. “It must have been that power surge this morning.” The lights had gone off when a transformer blew down the road. We’d seen the BC Hydro truck and its cherry picker.

  “But ours are okay,” I said in confusion. “You were on earlier. I’m on the Internet. Why Jane’s?”

  He shrugged. “The way things are routed, the data comes into her computer first. Jane’s took the hit.” He gave her a cool and assessing look. “Didn’t you have a contingency plan?”

  She gulped, wiping her eyes. “What’s a contin—?”

  “It means a backup plan. Automatic data retrieval. For the entire hard drive. Not just your current projects.”

  “But I never thought…I mean, I have a surge protector.” Jane bent under the desk and pointed to the unit.

  Joe took one look. “These cheap ones you brought from your old place are no better than a multiple outlet. This will be a lesson for you, Jane. A valuable one. Learn from it.”

  He left us alone, whistling a tune as his footsteps faded down the hall. I hardly knew how to react. This was a new side. Not that he’d been abusive or raised his voice, but his reaction seemed very cold. Jane looked like a wounded puppy. Not only did she blame herself, but I could see that she was disappointed in Joe.

  “Chin up, my girl. I’ll get a coffee, you get a pop, and we’ll use my computer and whatever data you still have. If I know you, it’s still fresh in your mind.”