by Lesley Crewe
* * *
Lila sometimes heard children’s voices on the wind from across the woods, and she would wonder if they were David’s children, but every time it crossed her mind, she busied herself with her chores and helped Ewan with the farm.
One day in late August Ewan went to town to stock up on feed and other necessities, and Lila almost went with him, but she had three loads of wash to finish, so she begged off. Hanging clothes was a pleasure on a hot, dry day, the kind of day when the first pillowcase she hung out would be dry by the time she got to the end of the line. On days like this, she put out her tablecloths and napkins to let the sun fade the brown spots.
The dogs barking alerted her to a visitor, a visitor who shouted, “Go! Go!” Lila left the line and hurried through the trees. A little girl held a small dog out of reach of her two rascals, who were happy to greet the new dog despite his refusal to return the sentiment.
“Fred! Willy! Stop it at once.”
The labs stood still as they wagged their tails and panted with their pink tongues hanging out and big smiles on their faces.
“It’s all right,” Lila said. “They won’t hurt you.”
“My dog was frightened, I wasn’t. He’s a city dog. He doesn’t know any better.”
Lila reached over and patted the dog’s head. “What’s his name?”
“Bear. He’s not Papa Bear or Mama Bear. He’s Baby Bear.”
“I can see that. You must be David’s youngest girl, Colleen.”
The girl’s eyes got big. “How did you know?”
“I grew up with your dad. Your Aunt Annie and I are best friends.”
“How come you haven’t come over, then? She’s been here every weekend.”
“I’m busy looking after my animals.”
“You have animals? I love animals.”
“Why don’t you put Bear down and I’ll show them to you.”
Once Bear was on the ground, he quickly joined the other two dogs in their sniffing ritual. All ill will was forgotten.
As Lila led the very excited Colleen around the stables and barns, she snuck peeks at her, looking for any resemblance. Once she looked up and grinned while holding a chick and for a second Lila thought she saw Caroline, but quickly dismissed the glimpse as wishful thinking.
Colleen was delightful company. She talked the entire time they roamed around the farm. Lila learned that she wasn’t as pretty as her sister Frankie and that her mother preferred white wine to red and that her dad seemed really happy to be back in Cape Breton. Colleen talked about Elena who gave her treats and the mean girl next door who called her Fatty Fatty Two by Four.
“You’re not fat.”
“I’m not?”
“No. You’re you.”
Colleen seemed content with that.
In the distance Lila heard David and Kay calling for their daughter, and the sound panicked her. “You better go now. Your parents will be worried.”
“I have to find Bear.” With that Colleen ran off to round up her dog. Lila wasn’t sure what to do, but she wanted David to stop calling. She ran towards their voices.
“She’s fine! She’s here! Colleen’s here!”
Kay and David hurried towards her.
Lila hated to see parents as worried as she’d been, no matter who they were. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I was showing her the animals. I didn’t think.”
Kay looked furious. “Where is she?”
Lila pointed. “She’s getting Bear out of the barn. The dogs frightened him, you see…”
Kay didn’t stay to let her finish. She ran over to the barn and disappeared inside it. That left Lila and David standing there alone.
“I didn’t mean…”
“I know you didn’t,” he said. “It’s all right.”
It had been years, but he still looked like the David Lila had always known. He had a few more laugh lines, slightly deeper shadows under his eyes, but he was still her David. She took a deep breath and raked her fingers through her hair. No doubt she looked a mess, and that bothered her. It was hard to look him in the eyes, so she turned towards the barn. “She’s lovely. Colleen, I mean.”
“She is.”
“You’re lucky,” Lila said gently.
“Yes.”
Kay came out of the barn, clutching Bear under her arm and pulling Colleen by the hand. “Don’t ever do that again. You must always let us know where you’re going.”
“I had to get Bear,” Colleen said.
“I’m sorry she bothered you,” Kay said. “It won’t happen again.”
“She was no bother…”
“Are you coming, David?”
David stood there. Lila knew that look. He was embarrassed.
“It was nice to see you, Lila.”
“You too. Goodbye, Colleen.”
“Thank you for showing me your animals. Can I come back sometime?”
“Anytime,” Lila said, smiling.
“You can’t,” Kay said. “We’re leaving in a couple of days.” She walked away, holding onto a struggling dog and a mutinous child.
“When you see your dad, give him my love,” Lila said.
“Will do. Take care of yourself.”
David gave her a look that went through her body and out the other side. Then he turned around and followed his wife.
Lila went back to the clothesline and folded the dry laundry into her wicker basket. Then she hung the folded dry clothes back on the line before she disappeared into the house.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
1967
Expo 67 was a huge deal for Montreal—and all of Canada, for that matter. Maritimers in Montreal who usually went home every summer suddenly had an influx of visitors for the first time in years. Relatives they’d never heard of called and asked if there was a spare bed going.
The Macdonald family was no different, but in their case, the family also wanted to be in Montreal because after recovering from TB, Kenzie now had emphysema brought on by years of smoking, and David had him flown up to Montreal to see the best specialist he could find. His mom stayed with them while Kenzie was in the hospital, so she could visit him every day. Annie and her family were coming as soon as the boys finished school. The twins were graduating that year and had their prom and parties to look forward to.
There was also a special someone who was coming to Montreal for the first time—Henry and Annie’s two-year-old daughter, Leelee. Her name was officially Lila, but by the time they took her home the boys had changed it to Leelee and she was Leelee forever more. Annie was relieved in a way because it only occurred to her afterwards that it might upset Kay when she heard her name, but as Henry said, she was allowed to name her daughter after her best friend, feelings be damned.
Lila cried buckets when she held her namesake for the first time. Annie and Henry cried too, with joy and with sorrow. Leelee had the sweetest little face, dark hair, and almond shaped eyes—the face of a child with Down syndrome. They weren’t sad because of that. They were sad because more than a few people had suggested she go into a home to make their lives easier. Henry had to restrain Annie from killing her hospital roommate, whom Annie overheard telling her husband they were so lucky their baby wasn’t retarded.
Leelee’s brothers loved her. They took her everywhere—on their backs, on their shoulders, and in their arms. Henry was surprised his daughter learned how to walk since she was always being carried.
Annie would often take Leelee out to visit her Aunt Lila and Uncle Ewan. They’d make a huge fuss over her and then Uncle Ewan would take her out to see the animals, while Annie and Lila sat in their weathered chairs on the lawn to catch up on their news. Lila gave Leelee fifty kisses when they said goodbye to see her through until she came back. Ewan patted her head with his big hand. They always waved goodbye until Annie’
s car was out of sight.
And now Leelee was coming to Montreal.
Both Colleen and Frankie were excited to see her. It had been a year since they’d last laid eyes on her in Cape Breton, and of course they’d seen pictures in the meantime, but now she’d be able to run around, which was much more fun. Colleen used one of the pictures to put on a poster she made and taped to the house. “Welcome Leelee and Everyone!! Xoxoxox”
Colleen had moved into Frankie’s room so Grammie could have her room. The boys would bunk in the family room downstairs, and her aunt and uncle would be in the spare room. Colleen had hoped Leelee could sleep with them, but Mom said she wasn’t a doll.
Being in Frankie’s room was a real eye-opener for thirteen-year-old Colleen. She hadn’t realized how much time her sister spent getting ready in the morning. The first time her alarm went off at six, Colleen threw a pillow over her head. She woke up two hours later and Frankie was still fiddling around with lotions and potions.
“It never occurred to me that you bought the face you present to the world. I thought you were a natural beauty.”
“Ha, ha. You know, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if you took the time to pluck your eyebrows and cover your pimples.”
Colleen had a big stretch before she answered. “Nope. Doesn’t matter. No one looks at me anyway. Not with this stunning body.”
“I can help you if you like.”
“I said no.”
Frankie turned around on her stool. “Colleen, your trouble is that you constantly whine about things but never do anything about them. If you think you’re overweight, then stop eating so much and you’ll lose it. You’re as pretty as I am. I just try harder.”
You’re as pretty as I am echoed through Colleen’s head.
“Do you mean it?”
“Do I mean what?”
“That you’d help me?”
“Sure. We’ll start with your eyebrows.”
Colleen yelled so loud and made such a fuss every time the tweezers came near her, Frankie gave up. “You’re impossible!”
Colleen grabbed her arm. “No, don’t go. I’ll be good.”
Frankie started again and Colleen writhed on the bed howling. Frankie threw the tweezers at her. “Be my guest.” Then she picked up her purse and left the room.
Colleen called after her, “Wait a minute! I’ll be better this time, I promise!”
Frankie didn’t come back.
This world of beauty was a bitch. She went downstairs and raided the fridge when no one was looking.
When Leelee arrived dressed in a sundress and sandals, the first person she ran to was her Grammie, who picked her up and twirled her around. Colleen, her sister, and her parents barely said hello to the rest of the gang, in their rush to hold Leelee first. It was pandemonium for the first five minutes out in the driveway. Even the neighbours peered over to see what was going on.
Colleen fell in love with her all over again. “She never stops smiling!”
Aunt Annie put her arm around her. “She has her moments, but I can tell she loves you.”
“I wonder why?”
“Don’t be daft!” Aunt Annie said. “Who wouldn’t love you?”
The next month was a family reunion like no other. The days they visited Grampy were sad but also nice; everyone shared their memories of him over the dinner table when they got home. The boys remembered when Grampy would take them to Morien to go fishing. He’d tie them to the wharf so they wouldn’t fall in. Aunt Annie talked about him making porridge every evening before bed and told the kids about her dad’s deer ashtray that she swore came alive at night. Colleen and Frankie told their cousins about the night of the thunderstorm.
“Annie, remember when Dad came to school and we couldn’t believe he was missing work?” her father laughed.
“Why did he go to the school?” Mom asked.
Dad hesitated and Aunt Annie jumped in. “The teacher was crazy and I was always in trouble. He set her straight.”
On other days they would take the Metro to the Île Ste.-Hélène station and follow the crowds to Île Notre-Dame. Colleen had never seen so many people in her life. Frankie and the twins, and sometimes George, would wander off on their own after they got their instructions about where and when they would rendezvous. They usually headed for La Ronde, the big amusement park on the other side of the man-made island. They never asked Colleen if she wanted to come along, but she didn’t want to anyway. She had too much fun with the others. Dad and Uncle Henry would stay behind with Grammie to take her to the hospital. On other days it was Mom and Aunt Annie who stayed behind.
Colleen felt like she was touring the world, going into the US Pavilion shaped like a globe and the USSR Pavilion with its soaring roof, but she also loved the souvenir shops, where she picked up candy, a Mexican sombrero, small woven baskets, and a soft leather coin purse with a fringe. There was even a pavilion that gave out candy while you waited in line. You’d suck on it for awhile and then the taste would change, and then change again.
Colleen wore a bright red raincoat with a blue tote bag over her shoulder to collect her treasures. She thought she was the epitome of style, since the coat hid her stomach.
It seemed to Colleen as if the sun shone every day that summer. It was only after Grampy died that the storms moved in.
Once, just after he died, her mother asked her to take fresh towels to Aunt Annie’s room. Colleen was outside the door with her hand ready to knock when she heard her aunt sobbing, “Oh, Daddy. Oh, Daddy.”
It was the first time she’d ever heard an adult cry. She backed away and put the towels on the chair in the hallway, before going outside to the garden shed to bawl her eyes out. There was nowhere else to go. Every room she went in had sad, heartsick people in them.
And then she cried when her parents decided it would be better if she and Frankie didn’t go to the funeral in Cape Breton. There was no discussion about it. It was decided and everyone left. Frankie went to stay at a friend’s house and a friend of their mom’s came to stay with Colleen.
The night of the day her grandfather was buried, Colleen couldn’t sleep. She went over to the window and looked at the moon and wondered if her family was looking at it too. Perhaps Grampy could see it from the other side now. It was bad enough that she couldn’t be with her family in Cape Breton, but to not be with Frankie was terrible. She’d never been so lonely in her life.
When her parents came home, she yelled at them for being horrible. She was so upset that both of them came up to her room and told her they were sorry. That it had been a mistake not to take her or Frankie. Her sister confessed to Colleen later that she didn’t have a very good time at her friend’s house either and wished Colleen was with her.
That made Colleen feel better, but she wasn’t ready to forgive anyone. She went downstairs that night and took a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread back to her room. She finished them off before going to sleep.
* * *
Standing beside his mother and sister in the receiving line of his father’s wake was an ordeal for David. Not only because his father was dead, but because every friend and neighbour who shook his hand had a memory or story attached to them. His best friend in elementary school was there. Even the guy who beat him up in the schoolyard came to pay his respects. Everyone said how good it was to see him, how much he was missed.
These were his people. This is where he grew up. Why was he living his life in a city that meant nothing to him? Why was he apart from his sister and his mother? If he’d lived closer, he could’ve seen his dad more often. Now it was too late. Was he going to go back to Quebec and let his mother miss him and the girls once more?
He shook hands with his father’s friends, his second cousins, his third cousins, his fourth cousins, his mother’s auxiliary group, every doctor and nurse in town, people he’d nev
er met who said they loved his dad. How he always helped the needy, spent time fixing up back sheds and such for elderly neighbours, or shovelled walks in the winter. Those hands of his, always busy, always black from work.
He wasn’t going to break down in front of his mother or Annie. They needed him. He cleared his throat and shook his head a little to gather his wits about him. That’s when he saw Lila and Ewan. Kay tensed beside him.
“Stop it,” he said under his breath.
It didn’t seem like Lila had come so much as Ewan had brought her. He had his arm around her, holding her up as they moved down the line. He’d heard Annie tell Lila on the phone that she didn’t have to come, that she and Mom would come out to the farm and they could have their moment there, but she knew people would talk if she didn’t attend; the downside of living in a small community.
Lila shook Kay’s hand and then David’s, but she didn’t look at him or say anything. Ewan nodded and said he was sorry for their loss. Lila kissed Henry, but when she got to Annie, they grabbed each other. Mom joined in and they softly cried in each other’s arms before they had to part, as there was a still a line-up out the door. Ewan guided Lila to the closed casket, where she paused to lay her hand on the polished wood before they left without a backward glance.
Jesus Christ. This was only the afternoon wake. They still had to live through the evening wake and then the funeral tomorrow.
When they finally closed the door on the last mourner the next afternoon, they all collapsed into the closest chair. The boys went home to relieve Leelee’s babysitter. The quiet was a blessing. After talking and shaking hands with every adult for miles, they were worn out. They were too tired to even change their clothes.
“Your father would be pleased,” Mom said. “He always told me he wanted a closed coffin so the old biddies in Glace Bay wouldn’t have a chance to take a peek at him. I know there were a few who were disappointed.”
“I’ve already told everyone I want a closed coffin,” Annie said.