Emilie took a large bite of her own bread and Angeline started laughing at her contagious enthusiasm. She looked at the Saint-Laurent and declared, “This beats the Quequechan River, though, doesn’t it?”
Emilie laughed and nearly choked on her bread. She followed Angeline’s gaze and agreed, “There’s no comparison.”
They ate their lunch and talked about Emilie’s new job at the store. Angeline laughed at Emilie’s impersonation of old grumpy Theo and smiled at her elation over the books she might be able to order. Emilie’s passion for knowledge would never die, Angeline mused. She found both reassurance and stimulation in that passion that made Emilie’s black eyes sparkle, and she realized just how much she’d missed it. She’d missed hearing Emilie talk with such intensity.
They finished their apple, gathered their belongings into Emilie’s mailbag, and started walking on the beach toward the Bic Islands. The wind made her shiver and she got closer to Emilie so they could keep warm, holding her arm as she’d done so many times on their walks to and from school or the cotton mill. The familiar touch reminded her that she’d missed their physical closeness too.
She couldn’t let Emilie go back to Boston. That need to be in Emilie’s presence ever since she’d met her, that need she’d thought she’d grown out of since she’d moved to Rimouski, it had only taken a little over a week for it to return stronger than ever. She couldn’t lose Emilie again.
“How are we going to keep coming here every Sunday if you go back to Boston, Emilie?” The question surprised Angeline as much as it did Emilie, who stopped walking for a moment and looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.
“I’m not going back yet. At least not before you have that baby. I’ll stay as long as you need me, Angeline.” Emilie smiled and briefly placed her warm hand on Angeline’s protruding stomach.
What if I need you forever, Angeline thought as they started walking again. Instead, she asked the question she’d wanted to ask ever since Emilie had arrived in Rimouski even though she couldn’t admit it, not even to herself. “But isn’t there someone waiting for you in Boston? A fiancé? Someone special?” Angeline ended her question before her voice broke, realizing she wasn’t certain she wanted to hear Emilie’s answer.
Emilie broke free of Angeline’s grasp and walked a few steps ahead before she turned to Angeline. The crease between her eyebrows had grown deeper and she seemed upset. “Am I in your way? Do you want me to go back to Boston?”
“Oh no, of course not,” Angeline answered quickly, closing the distance between them and taking Emilie’s hands in hers. She should have known Emilie might interpret her question that way and she hoped that revealing her true desires would reassure her. “I want you to stay, Emilie. I love having you here. The children love having you here too. Even my parents love having you here. I was simply curious. I’m sorry.”
Emilie’s gaze was focused on their joined hands and Angeline waited nervously for her to speak again. “I love being here too, Angeline. But I guess if I’m going to stay a while longer you should know.”
Angeline’s heart raced as she waited for Emilie to continue. Her eyes were still fixed on their hands and she’d gone quiet for what seemed like hours. “What should I know? Look at me, Emilie. Please.”
Emilie finally did look at Angeline but she let go of her hands and stepped away from her before she took a deep breath and finally spoke. “There was someone special in Boston but I ended it after Joseph died.”
Angeline’s heart tightened. “Oh. Henri never mentioned anything in his letters. You didn’t mention anyone in your letter to Joseph either.” She heard her own voice tremble and bit her lip in an attempt to regain her composure before she finally asked, “Who was he?”
Emilie took another deep breath and then looked at Angeline straight in the eye when she answered, “Her name was Kate.”
“Kate? Wait, you had a relationship with a woman?”
Emilie was surprised at Angeline’s expression, more intrigued and incredulous than shocked and repulsed. She’d imagined that Angeline might throw her out of her house, disgusted, if she learned that she’d been intimate with another woman. But she’d never thought it could be such a surprise. Not after the love she’d declared to Angeline and the kiss they’d shared years ago. Either way, she felt relief from telling the truth to Angeline. The only problem was that she couldn’t run away from her friend’s questions now.
“Yes, Angeline. We were together for five years.” Emilie turned around and started walking toward the islands again. Angeline followed, but a few feet from Emilie, and wrapped her arms around her body to protect herself from the cold air rather than getting closer to Emilie. Angeline’s choice to keep her distance didn’t surprise Emilie. She was more astounded by the fact that she followed instead of running away.
“But, how is that possible? How can women be in love? That kind of relationship is meant to happen between men and women, Emilie. Men and women are supposed to get married, have children and raise a family together. How can you have that with another woman? It’s impossible.”
Angeline’s tone was not accusatory. It was simply inquisitive, perhaps skeptical. Without looking at Angeline, Emilie answered, “Of course two women can’t have children, Angeline. But they can still love each other. It’s possible, and Kate and I were not alone. Every Saturday Kate’s house was filled with other women like us, who loved other women. And there are plenty more all over the world. There are even words for women like me and Kate. Some call us Sapphists, but Kate and I preferred the word lesbian.”
“Lesbian,” Angeline repeated. “But the church?”
“The church doesn’t dictate how I live my life anymore, Angeline. That said, I don’t go telling everyone who I am. I’m discreet because I have to be. Especially here. But I couldn’t stay under your roof any longer without you knowing. I want to stay at least until you have the baby, but it’s up to you.”
“How was she?”
Emilie was stunned by Angeline’s question and she turned to look at her expression. All she saw was curiosity. “What?”
“Kate. How was she?”
“You want to know about Kate?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Let’s walk back to the buggy and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Emilie couldn’t help but smile at the turn of the conversation. She didn’t know if Angeline’s unexpected line of questioning meant that she could stay, but she took her eagerness to know more about Kate as a positive sign.
Emilie described at length Kate’s physique and personality. She even told Angeline about Kate’s marriage of convenience. When Angeline asked how their relationship ended, however, she simply said that Kate wanted to move to New York. She couldn’t bring herself to admit how badly she’d hurt Kate, a woman who’d been so good to her and had helped her become the person she was in so many ways.
Angeline listened carefully and moved closer to Emilie as they walked back to the buggy. Emilie guessed the move was unconscious as Angeline wanted to hear Emilie’s words through the noise of the waves and the wind. Yet she also allowed herself to interpret Angeline’s closeness as a form of acceptance.
Emilie helped Angeline climb up to the buggy and sat by her, holding the reins. Angeline was quiet and Emilie figured she’d learned enough about Kate. She certainly didn’t expect the next question.
“Did you kiss? You and Kate?”
Angeline’s tone was hesitant but Emilie was shocked that she’d managed to ask that question at all. Her brain brought her back to the multiple kisses she’d shared with Kate and she had to swallow, her mouth suddenly dry. She was most uncomfortable thinking of Kate’s lips on hers while sitting next to Angeline. But she couldn’t be anything but honest with Angeline. “Yes, we kissed. Like couples do.”
Angeline sat quiet for a few seconds. Emilie thought that Angeline knew more than enough already and hoped she wouldn’t dare going further, but when she heard Angeline
ask, “Did you make love?” her hopes crashed to the dirt road as a blush rose to her cheeks.
“Yes,” she heard herself say in a hoarse, barely audible voice.
“But how?”
That was enough. Although she appreciated Angeline’s interest and certainly preferred it to being called a pervert and put on a train to Boston, she didn’t want to divulge details of her sexual life with Kate, details that only reminded her of the sexual life she could never have with Angeline. “That’s personal, Angeline. I can tell you more about Kate if you want, but I can’t share details of our intimacy with you. It wouldn’t be right and it makes me uncomfortable.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry, Emilie. It’s none of my business.” Angeline spoke sincerely and the pink that colored her cheeks confirmed that she was embarrassed by her intrusion. Emilie smiled at Angeline to put her at ease.
As they got closer to Angeline’s house, Emilie dared asking what seemed most pertinent. “You haven’t told me if you still want me to stay.”
The question seemed to take Angeline off guard. She placed a hand on Emilie’s arm to reassure her even before she spoke. “Of course I want you to stay. Thank you for telling me about you and Kate. And about being a…lesbian.” The word was whispered even though no one could hear them. “I don’t understand everything it means, Emilie, but I know it doesn’t change who you are as my friend. I want you to stay. And your secret is safe with me.”
Emilie was relieved that Angeline wanted her to stay but the shame she’d felt when she was forced to recall the way things had ended with Kate didn’t sit well with her. She owed Kate an apology. She’d known from the moment she’d left the train station that day, and she couldn’t wait any longer. She vowed to write a letter to Kate that night. Kate deserved an explanation and an apology. Emilie knew Kate would probably never answer, but she would write that letter nonetheless. She wouldn’t feel comfortable under Angeline’s roof until she did.
Chapter Thirty-One
December 1905
Angeline sat in the rocking chair as she knit, regularly looking up at Emilie and admiring how absorbed she was by her book. Emilie had placed the rocking chair close enough to the kitchen table so they could share the light of the same oil lamp. She read and Angeline knitted while Lionel lay on the floor between them. Almost every night. It had become their routine in the past three months. They’d put the children to bed and spend an hour or two together like this, in peaceful silence, until Emilie shared a particularly interesting, touching, or funny passage in her book. Angeline cherished every minute of it. Sharing her life with Emilie had been her deepest desire since childhood and she felt like her dream had come true.
Angeline hadn’t dared asking many more questions about Emilie’s relationship with Kate since Emilie’s confession shortly after her arrival. She’d limited herself to innocent inquiries about Kate’s character and habits, purposefully avoiding the questions she still desperately wanted to ask. She wanted to know how Emilie and Kate could have been intimate with each other. She wanted to know if what they did resembled what happened in Angeline’s recurring dream, the one in which she was in bed with Emilie, the one she couldn’t get out of her mind, even awake, since Emilie’s revelation.
Did Emilie touch Kate’s breasts the same way she touched hers in that dream? Did she caress Kate’s thighs in such a manner that Kate trembled as Angeline always did? What else did they do that she couldn’t even dream of? She was dying to know and terrified at the same time. She couldn’t deny that she felt jealous, envious of Kate and the relationship she’d had with Emilie. She knew her feelings for Emilie, her need of her, went beyond friendship and part of her wanted to live the kiss they’d shared again, to make her dream come true. Another part of her was still scared of what that meant. As much as Emilie said there were many other women like her and Kate, Angeline couldn’t accept being one of them. Asking Emilie to leave, however, wasn’t an option. She needed her too much.
“I think Renald will love this story,” Emilie declared without looking up as she turned a page of her book. Angeline simply smiled at her. She still couldn’t get used to Emilie calling young Doctor Michaud by his first name. Emilie had started ordering books for the General Store soon after she’d started working there and Doctor Michaud had been the first to take advantage of the new offering. He trusted Emilie’s recommendations and whenever Emilie was late coming home from work, Angeline knew it was because she’d stayed to discuss a book with Doctor Michaud or to advise him on his next purchase.
Angeline winced and put one hand on her stomach when she felt a stronger contraction. She’d had small contractions throughout the day but this one was more serious. She recognized the pain and knew it was time. “Emilie?”
“Hmm?” Emilie asked without taking her focus out of her book.
“I think it’s time for Renald to get out of his books and come here to deliver this baby,” she announced calmly.
Emilie immediately jumped from her chair. “Really? All right. I’m going to tell your father and I’ll be right back.”
She kissed Angeline’s forehead and rushed to put boots on and a heavy winter coat. They already had four feet of snow on the ground. Angeline knew it would be at least an hour before her father came back with Doctor Michaud. She got up from the rocking chair and walked slowly toward her bedroom, in pain. Soon Emilie would be back with Angeline’s mother and they would put water to boil and stay with her until the doctor arrived and the baby was born. It would be a long night.
Emilie held the baby girl with pride and tenderness as she rocked the chair. She’d moved the rocking chair to Angeline’s bedroom before the doctor, her father and mother had all left, leaving the baby in her arms. Angeline had fallen asleep right after giving birth, exhausted. Emilie had hated seeing Angeline suffer through endless contractions before she’d finally delivered the baby. Her mother and father and Renald had remained calm, obviously used to the natural phenomenon of giving birth. It was all very new to Emilie, however, and she’d felt powerless to help anyone in the situation. She hoped she’d be more useful helping Angeline take care of the baby. She definitely wanted to.
The sun would soon rise but Emilie hadn’t shut an eye yet. Not even for one minute. She couldn’t take her gaze away from the small pink creature wrapped in a blanket and sleeping peacefully in her arms. She realized that being here with Angeline and the children was the closest she’d ever be to having a family of her own, and holding this brand-new baby girl was the closest she’d ever be to giving birth to her own child. She’d never wanted children before. She’d never even dared wanting a family, but she was absolutely certain in this moment that she wanted to see this baby girl grow up. With Angeline. She’d never been so certain of what she wanted before. She couldn’t go back to Boston. Her place was here.
“Hi there,” Angeline said softly.
Emilie looked up to the bed where Angeline had been sleeping, surprised that she hadn’t realized she’d awakened. She stood up, carefully holding the baby, and went to sit on the bed next to her. Lionel stood up from his post by the chair to follow Emilie, and lay on the floor by the bed. Angeline chuckled.
“What’s funny?” Emilie asked.
“When I woke up after giving birth to Marie-Ange, Joseph was sitting in that chair in the exact same spot, holding the baby with such pride.” Tears filled Angeline’s eyes as she smiled.
Emilie fought her own tears, missing her brother. “I think he would have been very proud of this one as well,” she said as she placed the baby girl in her mother’s arms. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she’s a beauty, as her father would say,” Angeline said with more tears falling to her cheeks as she appeared lost in her memories. She caressed the child’s dark hair and added, “She looks like Paul-Emile. Like you.”
Their eyes met and this time Emilie couldn’t hold back her tears. She made herself more comfortable on the bed and placed an arm around Angelin
e’s shoulders.
“Did you think of a name for this beautiful new niece of mine?”
“Since we’re so close to Christmas, what would you think of Noelle? Noelle Josephine Levesque.”
Emilie studied the baby in Angeline’s arms. “Noelle Josephine Levesque,” she said out loud to test the name. “That’s perfect,” she concluded.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rimouski, January 1906
“How dare he?” Emilie said, her face reddened with anger and the wrinkle between her eyebrows deeper than Angeline had ever seen it.
Emilie was holding on to the back of a wooden kitchen chair so tightly her knuckles were turning white. She’d just come home from work and Angeline had told her about Father Roy’s visit. A visit during which the priest had suggested it might be time to remarry and have more children.
“He’s our priest, Emilie. He simply reminded me of my responsibility. I’m still fairly young and could carry and mother many more children. It’s my Christian duty to do so.”
“So are you saying you want to remarry, Angeline? Did good Father Roy already have a husband in mind for you?”
Angeline saw fire pass through Emilie’s squinted eyes before she pushed the chair she’d been holding onto with a force that startled Angeline and reminded her of the rare occasions she’d seen Joseph angry. Fortunately, she thought, the Levesques didn’t get angry too often, or they would certainly run out of kitchen chairs.
The sound of Emilie’s enraged voice and of the chair hitting the side of the table alerted the children who were playing upstairs and all three rushed down the staircase. Noelle started crying from her crib in Angeline’s bedroom.
“Dinnertime,” Angeline announced before she shot her most serious, stern motherly look in Emilie’s direction. The look always succeeded in effectively communicating “not now.” Emilie took a deep breath and put the chair she’d pushed back in its place. Angeline went to get Noelle out of the bedroom, followed by Marie-Ange.
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