Angeline had briefly gone inside to check on the barley soup slowly cooking on the woodstove and when she came back outside she saw Yellow take off running the way he used to every time he saw Joseph come home from work. He would join his master and calmly walk back to the house by his side.
Angeline’s heart lurched when she saw the woman Yellow had run to, and then it started beating so fast she pressed a hand to her chest as if that might slow it down. She had no doubt the woman standing on top of the hill was Emilie. She couldn’t see her face but she would have recognized the petite figure anywhere. Even if Emilie had gained weight to the point of being unrecognizable, the way Yellow had run to her and was now walking calmly by her side as they approached the house, the same exact way he’d done with Joseph so many times before, would have revealed Emilie’s identity.
Angeline walked off her porch and then stopped, unable to move any farther as she watched Emilie come toward her, faster and faster as she got closer. When she was just a few feet in front of her, Angeline couldn’t help but smile at the familiar wrinkle between the thick eyebrows. “You came,” was all she could manage to say.
Emilie returned her smile and the wrinkle between her brows disappeared for a brief moment before she spoke. “I did. I’m sorry I didn’t write to announce my visit.”
Emilie took off her hat and nervously ran her fingers through her hair, and Angeline noticed it was short. Carefully combed back behind her ears, her hair had simply looked pulled back in a chignon like her own until she’d uncovered her head.
“You cut your hair,” she stated with a smirk, recognizing her friend’s rebellious streak. The haircut suited Emilie. Her black hair looked thicker and Emilie looked younger than the last time she’d seen her, reminding Angeline piercingly of the nine-year-old she’d met in Fall River. “Is that the way girls wear their hair in Boston?” she asked teasingly.
“No, it’s the way I wear my hair. Do you have a problem with it?” Emilie answered defensively.
Angeline chuckled at her reaction. “Calm down, Emilie, I’m just teasing. Did you leave your sense of humor on the barber’s floor with your hair?”
Emilie laughed this time, and Angeline smiled with satisfaction. It had been a long time since she’d made someone laugh and it felt good, even if she was using humor to cover up her nerves as she stood face-to-face with Emilie for the first time since that terrible night all those years ago.
Emilie’s laughter subsided and her worried frown reappeared as she asked in a voice filled with concern, “Is it all right that I came, Angeline?”
Angeline was no longer able to cover up her emotions and her voice caught when she answered, “Of course, Emilie.” Tears welled in her eyes as she walked the short distance that separated them to pull Emilie’s small body into a desperate embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she added softly in Emilie’s ear.
She felt Emilie’s arms hesitate around her waist and realized she’d probably noticed her belly. She broke the embrace long enough to look into Emilie’s eyes and answer the wordless question in her expression. “Yes, I became pregnant just before Joseph…” She didn’t finish her sentence because there was no need to.
Emilie smiled as tears filled her eyes and they shared another hug, each tightening her hold as they cried and laughed at the same time. Angeline imagined they could have held on to each other for hours if a small hand had not pulled on her skirt. “Who’s the lady, Maman?”
Emilie reluctantly tore herself away from Angeline to see the boy standing by her, looking at Emilie with a worried wrinkle between thick, dark eyebrows. Emilie couldn’t help but smile at the boy who looked almost exactly like her when she was six years old. She crouched down to speak to the child. “You must be Paul-Emile. I’m your aunt Emilie. And I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
Paul-Emile skeptically studied the hand Emilie offered him and looked up to his mother, who confirmed, “That’s right. Your aunt Emilie came to visit us all the way from Boston.”
Joseph and Angeline had obviously talked to their children about her before because the boy’s eyes suddenly lit up and he shook her hand enthusiastically. “Will you tell me all about Boston, Aunt Emilie?”
Emilie chuckled at his eagerness, remembering how much she’d craved hearing about other places when she was his age. “Of course, Paul-Emile. I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Paul.”
“Pardon me?”
“Paul. Everyone calls me Paul.”
“All right, then. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Paul.”
“Everyone calls him Paul except me,” Angeline said. Emilie looked up to meet her gaze as she added, “He’ll always be Paul-Emile to me.” Angeline smiled tenderly at Emilie, making her understand that the meaning of the second part of her son’s name was too important for her to drop it. Emilie returned the smile.
“Aunt Milie,” a small voice said by her side. Emilie looked to find a little girl she would have recognized anywhere walking toward her with open arms. She looked exactly like her mother.
Emilie hugged the child, who squeezed her neck without any restraint, as hard as her small arms would let her. “Hello, Marie-Ange. Such a beautiful little girl, you are.” The compliment embarrassed the girl and she ran to her mother, where she buried her face in Angeline’s skirt.
Emilie stood up and looked around for the blond boy she’d seen earlier. When she spotted him standing at the corner of the house, keeping his distance, she waved at him. “Hi, Victor.” He looked at her defiantly but she couldn’t help but smile at him anyway as she wiped a tear from her eye. Her father had written that Victor looked like Joseph, but seeing the boy now she realized she hadn’t been prepared for such a height of resemblance. It was in his build and his features, of course, but in his expression as well. And obviously in his wariness of strangers.
“Victor, come here and say hi to your aunt,” Angeline demanded, visibly upset with her son’s behavior.
“No,” Victor said before he hid by the side of the house.
“Victor,” Angeline started before Emilie lightly shook her head at her, silently asking her to stop.
Emilie could still see the boy but she didn’t think he was aware of that. She spoke to Angeline loud enough for him to hear. “It’s all right. Victor and I will have time to talk later. He’ll have to talk to me if he wants to see what I brought him from Boston.”
Victor was intrigued enough to start walking toward them but he stopped a few feet behind Angeline and when Emilie smiled at him, the smile she received in return was brief, but gave her hope.
“Did you bring me something too?” Paul asked.
“Of course. I have something for all of you,” Emilie answered, looking at Paul before she focused on Angeline.
As she and Emilie sat at the kitchen table after dinner, watching the children play with their toys, Angeline asked, “How long can you stay?”
Paul sat with them examining with care his small locomotive, made of metal, as if trying to understand how it was built, while Victor played with his own train on the staircase. He still needed to keep his distance, and Emilie understood. Marie-Ange sat in the rocking chair, singing a lullaby to her new doll.
Emilie knew the toys would please the children. She’d spent a great amount of her savings on them, wanting to give the children a part of the city, of her life. She also wanted Angeline to know she was doing well in Boston. She needed to portray the image of a happy, successful city woman. A portrait she had some difficulty believing herself as she sat quietly with Angeline and spent time with her family. She ran her hand through her short hair. A part of her wanted to tell Angeline she wanted to stay forever, but another part wanted to tell her she had to go back to Boston tomorrow, before she forgot who she was, or did something stupid.
She’d convinced herself she’d visit Angeline as a friend, but her body had awakened against her will in Angeline’s presence. Angeline had gained a little weight, especia
lly in the hips and buttocks, and her features betrayed fatigue and anxiety, but Emilie was as attracted to the mother of three, soon four, as she’d been to the young, fresh Angeline she’d known in Flint. If she stayed, Emilie knew she’d have to keep that attraction to herself and fantasize in silence, as she’d done in the past, but she also knew it would be so much more difficult now. Now that she’d experienced sexual relations with another woman, now that she knew exactly what she’d do to Angeline if she had the chance, now that she knew the pleasure they could give each other. She wanted to answer that she’d stay until she went crazy, but instead she simply said, “I don’t have a set date. As long as I’m not in your way.”
“You’re not in my way, Emilie. Stay as long as you want.” Angeline didn’t want Emilie to go, yet she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted her to stay. Having her in the house she’d shared with Joseph seemed both natural and bizarre at the same time. Natural because Emilie was family. She was, or had been, her best friend and Angeline didn’t doubt she’d be a moral support as well as a great help in daily chores with the house and children. Bizarre because the Emilie that was sitting in her kitchen now was not really the Emilie she’d known. Angeline didn’t feel completely at ease with her. Emilie had changed, and the change was not only in the short hairstyle. She seemed so much more mature, like she’d experienced life in ways Angeline hadn’t. Like she’d become the woman she’d promised Angeline she’d become all on her own. Emilie hadn’t needed Angeline with her in Boston and Angeline couldn’t help the way it made her chest tighten with bitter pain, even if it had been her own choice not to go with Emilie.
“There’s one more present,” Emilie announced as she rummaged through her suitcase until she found a small rectangular box wrapped in the same brown paper in which the children’s toys had been wrapped. “For you,” she said as she handed the present to Angeline.
“Me? Oh Emilie you shouldn’t have,” she said as she took the box and started to unwrap it carefully. Her heart was racing. She couldn’t remember receiving a wrapped present before. The brown paper covered a simple wooden box in which she found a gold chain with a circular pendant. Angeline gasped her surprise and looked at Emilie, who was smiling proudly.
Angeline didn’t own jewelry and her first thought was that Emilie had spent too much money on her. She didn’t deserve the delicate gold chain she carefully took out of its box with trembling fingers. Then she took a closer look at the pendant and all her worries disappeared. “Oh, Emilie,” she said again as she smiled at her, her eyes tearing up, before focusing on the pendant again. With her fingers, she traced the engraving within the golden circle.
To anyone else it would have been a simple tree, nothing worth crying over. But to Angeline it wasn’t just any tree. It was a buttonwood tree, the tree that had witnessed their friendship grow, the tree that had sheltered their talks, their dreams and their confidences. Emilie hadn’t forgotten.
“Thank you,” Angeline said as she stood up to hug Emilie.
“I’m glad you like it. When I saw it I couldn’t resist.”
“I love it. It’s perfect.” She handed the necklace to Emilie and turned around, silently asking for help. She wanted to wear the necklace right away. She felt Emilie’s touch on her neck and thought her friend was trembling. She didn’t stop to wonder what made Emilie tremble. She was too perfectly happy in this instant and wanted to savor this moment of true bliss. They’d been too rare recently.
“It’s beautiful, Maman,” Paul-Emile said, approaching Angeline. She bent down so he could get a better look at her present. Marie-Ange also came to admire the jewelry, and soon even Victor couldn’t help taking a peek.
“Well, now that we’ve all been properly spoiled by your aunt Emilie…” Angeline started, wiping the last of her tears with the back of her hand. With a quick look toward Emilie, who stood by her side with a satisfied grin on her face, she addressed the children gathered in front of them, “I’m afraid it’s time to go to bed.”
“Can we take our toys to bed?” Victor asked, holding on to his metal train.
“Yes,” Angeline conceded.
Clutching his train, Victor ran upstairs before Angeline had a chance to change her mind, followed by his older brother and younger sister.
Angeline turned to Emilie and caught her yawning. “Poor Emilie. You must be so tired.”
Emilie nodded and Angeline was taken with panic. She wouldn’t have hesitated to ask Emilie to share her bed if they’d still been the girls who met under their buttonwood tree to gossip and discuss books. If everything hadn’t changed the last time they’d met under that same tree, she thought as she absently caressed the pendant around her neck. But that last encounter had happened. They had shared a kiss, and now she was scared of simply sharing a bed with her best friend.
But Emilie simply picked up her suitcase and announced, “I can go sleep upstairs with the children, if you don’t mind.”
“No, of course, that’s a good idea. I’m sure Marie-Ange will be happy to share her bed with her aunt Milie,” she said with a timid smile.
Emilie returned her smile. “Good night, Angeline. Thank you for your kind hospitality.”
“Good night, Emilie,” Angeline replied, and she watched Emilie climb the stairs. She immediately felt lonely, a feeling that was only exacerbated when Yellow followed Emilie. The dog had always slept in Joseph and Angeline’s bedroom, curled up on the wooden floor by Joseph’s side of the bed. It looked like Angeline would be completely alone in her bedroom tonight, a fact that left her feeling abandoned.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
September 1905
“Are you sure?” Angeline asked with an amused smirk as she studied Emilie’s appearance.
“Yes, I’m sure. Harvesting potatoes is not a job meant to be done in a skirt.”
“Women have done it for centuries,” Angeline replied with a chuckle.
“That doesn’t mean they were right,” Emilie said stubbornly.
Emilie had started working in the garden the day before, wanting to make herself useful. While Angeline was busy with chores inside the house after they milked the cows and took care of the animals in the morning, Emilie wanted to stay outside, enjoying the country air she’d missed even more than she realized. She’d fought with her skirt all day long, cussing its length and complete lack of practicality. Of course, she lacked experience working with the shovel, spading fork and other tools she had to learn how to manipulate all over again, but her skirt definitely made things more difficult than they needed to be.
She’d come back to the house determined to ask Angeline if she could borrow Joseph’s trousers to continue her work the next day. Angeline had hesitated but had finally accepted and Emilie was now standing in the kitchen with brown wool trousers and one of her own blouses tucked into the waist. She’d borrowed suspenders as well, or she would have lost the pants before making her way out of Angeline’s bedroom.
“What’s so funny?” Emilie demanded as Angeline kept laughing. Emilie wasn’t quite as offended by the laughter as she made it sound. She took pride in making Angeline laugh. She’d only been in Rimouski for a week, but she could swear some of the distress in Angeline’s face at her arrival had already disappeared.
The tension between them had also simmered down and they were more at ease with each other. Emilie still had to keep her attraction in check, but she’d managed well so far. She also enjoyed spending time with the children, even sharing a bed with her niece, despite the three-year-old’s tendency to punch and kick in her sleep, a tendency Emilie could prove with several bruises on her body. She still preferred the bruises to sharing a bed with Angeline, which would have been a much worse kind of torture.
“Nothing’s funny,” Angeline said before she laughed even louder. “You just look like a circus clown.”
Emilie looked down and joined in Angeline’s laughter. Her brother’s trousers were much too big for her and she floated in them, not to mention t
hat the way they pooled on the floor, she’d be fighting with them as much as she’d been fighting with her own skirt the day before. She stopped laughing at the realization and sighed, discouraged.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make it work. Let me,” Angeline said as she knelt in front of Emilie. She rolled up the bottom of the pants until they were no longer covering Emilie’s leather boots. Then she stood up and adjusted the suspenders so they held the pants higher on her waist. The mere touch of Angeline’s hands on her sides forced Emilie to hold her breath until Angeline backed up and examined her carefully. She smiled, satisfied. “There, much better.”
Emilie looked down and studied the transformation. “Thank you,” she said with a smile as she started walking around the kitchen table, testing her new working outfit. She crouched down, straightened back up, put one foot on a chair and stretched. The liberty of movement was as she’d expected and she couldn’t help but grin at the newfound freedom. “So much better,” she announced. “By nightfall, there will be nothing left in that garden but dirt. You’ll see,” she added for Angeline, who laughed at her antics.
“You’re crazy, Emilie Levesque,” Angeline said as she kept laughing.
“Not crazy, my dear friend. Forward thinking. If women knew how comfortable these are, we’d all wear trousers.” She followed her declaration with a small dance that made Angeline laugh even harder, and then walked out of the house with exaggeratedly large steps. She kept walking with the same gait all the way to the garden, knowing Angeline was watching her out of the window. Knowing Angeline kept laughing. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the brisk September air and puffing her chest with pride.
“First short hair and now trousers. She’s a little eccentric, isn’t she?” her father said as he stood on Angeline’s porch and they watched Emilie work in the garden. Angeline chuckled at her father’s assessment. He’d come to see if Angeline needed anything from the General Store as he wasn’t working at the mill that day and was about to get the horses and buggy ready for a trip to town.
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