***
‘You’re a lucky woman,’ Susan said. ‘A man who can cook all day at work and then come home and do it again is a rare find. You better take care of him, Linda, or one day some woman in this town is going to steal him away.’
‘That’s what I keep telling her,’ Pete agreed.
‘You wish.’ Linda got up and started to clear plates from the table, bending to kiss her husband on the cheek as she passed. ‘You’re not so bad I guess.’
He put his arm around her waist and drew her close, grinning up at her and planting a kiss right on her mouth. ‘You’re not so bad yourself.’
Susan watched them with an affectionate smile. They’d been married seventeen years, not only living in the same house, but for many of those years working together as well. The way they were around each other, the way their lives were so entwined, it was hard to imagine one without the other. They still exchanged glances across the diner when they were working, grinning at some joke they shared, touching each other frequently, a brush of a hand against waist or arm, a brief almost unconscious squeeze. In a way these gestures were more intimate than any passionate kiss, though Susan was sure there was plenty of that kind of passion in their relationship too.
She envied them their total comfort with each other. Would she and David have been this way if he’d lived, she wondered? Maybe not. Having Jamie had turned their attention outward from each other and eventually they probably would have had another child. Linda and Pete only had each other, perhaps if they’d been able to have kids they would be different. It was all a question of focus, she thought. She knew how much they regretted being childless, but watching them she wondered if they fully realized that what they had together was rare.
‘Let me help you,’ Susan offered Linda, collecting Coop’s plate. He gave her a brief smile, and as she went around him she squeezed his shoulder. He looked up with an expression of pleasant surprise and she smiled at him.
As she put plates in the washer in the kitchen - while Linda prepared dessert - she imagined a domestic scene full of kids, noisy suppers and after they were in bed, quiet nights with her husband in front of a fire. It was how she used to think life would be. Now it was only her and Jamie who sat down to eat, the only voice her own.
‘Penny for them?’
Susan broke from her reverie. ‘My mother used to say that.’
‘All mothers say it.’ Linda took some fresh glasses from the cupboard and poured Chardonnay from a new bottle. ‘How is everything?’
Susan sipped her wine, thinking that she ought to take it easy, she was already feeling light-headed. In the dining room, through the glass doors, Coop and Pete were laughing at some joke. It was the happiest she’d seen Coop all night.
‘Everything’s fine, kind of.’ She explained what had happened earlier when Coop had arrived at the house. ‘Apparently Jamie went over to return a book, but he didn’t tell me he was going.’
‘So Coop went over to get him?’
‘I think he was put out that Jamie was over there. You know how Jamie is with him.’
‘That explains why he’s been kind of quiet tonight. I thought maybe you two had an argument.’
Susan shook her head. ‘Poor Coop. He tries with Jamie.’
‘Jamie would be that way with any man he thought you were involved with, you know that Susan.’
‘We’re not involved,’ she said.
‘Are you sure about that?’
Susan sighed. ‘Look, Coop is a sweet guy and I appreciate everything he’s done for Jamie and me. I just don’t know if I can ever feel anything more than that.’ She watched him through the glass doors as she spoke, the way he lounged back in his chair, relaxed and at ease, his long legs comfortably stretched under the table, the strong line of his jaw. He hadn’t said anything about what had happened at Michael’s house, but she knew he was hurt. She shook her head. It was all so confusing sometimes.
‘I never told you this before,’ Linda said. ‘But when I was young I dated Coop. I used to think one day I might marry him.’ She laughed at Susan’s expression of shock. ‘Oh it was a long time ago, before I ever met Pete. We were just kids really.’
‘You dated Coop?’ Susan couldn’t believe it.
‘Like I said, it was a long time ago.’ She looked down, fiddling with her glass. ‘You know, when Pete and I were trying to get pregnant and nothing was happening, I used to wonder sometimes how it would have been if I had ended up with Coop. Don’t look so shocked. I’d never change Pete for anyone, it was just that I was thinking all kinds of things at that time. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway, turned out the problem was with me. I’m just saying I used to think about it. I think Coop would’ve made a terrific husband. Oh, I know he’s sort of quiet and he’s happy being who he is right here in this town, but he’s got a good heart, Susan.’
‘I know that,’ she said.
It was late when they left and the night was freezing. Susan closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat. A country station was playing on the radio and she hummed along to a tune she recognized.
‘Thought you didn’t like this stuff?’ Coop said.
‘I’m making an exception tonight.’ She smiled. She was more into the mainstream top 40 stuff. The wine, and brandy with coffee on top of that, had affected her. It was more than she’d drunk in a long time and her mind was in a pleasant fuzz.
‘This was nice, Coop,’ she said. ‘Good food, good friends. I had a great time.’
‘Yeah, me too.’
His expression remained serious, concentrating on the road. He hadn’t had as much to drink as she had. She wondered if he was still bothered about what happened earlier. She reached out and brushed his arm.
‘If you’re worrying about Jamie, then don’t,’ she said. ‘It’s not you, it’s just he’s interested in Michael’s falcon.’
His mouth tightened fractionally. ‘Yeah, I know.’
He didn’t sound convinced. Maybe it would be better to let it drop. The sound of tires on the road lulled her, the heater making her yawn.
‘Are you okay about Jamie being over there?’ Coop asked after a moment.
She dragged herself up from a dreamy, half sleepy state. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Somers did try to kill somebody once, you know that. The guy he shot was lucky to survive. He threatened his own wife and baby too.’
‘He was never charged with that,’ Susan said. ‘The prosecution accepted that he never actually made any threat. He had some kind of breakdown. Even the judge in the trial said he needed treatment.’
‘The jury still thought he knew what he was doing.’ Coop looked over. ‘How d’you know all that anyway?’
‘I Googled it and found old news reports. With Jamie going over there I wanted to see for myself what really happened.’
Coop frowned. ‘Are you saying you’re okay with what he did?’
‘No, but I don’t think he should have to pay for it for the rest of his life. He was sick.’
‘It doesn’t worry you that he could do something like that again?’
‘I’ve met him,’ she said. ‘If I was worried about him I wouldn’t let Jamie go over there.’
There was a degree of evasion in her answer, but if Coop heard it he didn’t say anything. They rode in silence until he turned off the road and pulled up outside her house. Susan wished she hadn’t brought the subject up again in the first place. She knew how hard he’d tried with Jamie. It must be difficult for him to know that a stranger could bridge the gap he hadn’t been able to himself. Impulsively she leaned over and kissed his cheek. She started to pull away, but he turned toward her and held her arm and they stared at each other. Her heart pounded and when he drew her closer she didn’t resist, then he was kissing her mouth, his arm going around her shoulders.
At first she didn’t feel anything, just the sensation of his mouth against her own, then a kind of pleasant warm syrupy feeling was starting to happen somewh
ere in her middle and she didn’t want to let go of it just yet. She was aware of Coop’s male scent, and felt the strength in his arms, the hardness of his body.
She opened her eyes, feeling cool air against her face. Was this what she wanted?
‘Coop ... it’s late. I should go in.’
There was confusion in his expression mingled with hurt and even a flash of anger, but he didn’t try to stop her. She felt like an idiot, worse, she felt like a tease, but she garbled some excuse, said goodnight and climbed out.
Inside she leant against the door, listening to the sound of the engine fading, and quiet descended over the house. She took several long slow breaths, then went through to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Her head was swimming.
As she climbed upstairs to her room she stopped to look in on Jamie. He was asleep, lying on his stomach, arms thrown out, his face turned toward her. She pulled the covers up and bent to kiss him, watching him for a moment while he slept. He breathed softly with his mouth open a little, long lashes lying against his cheek. His drawing pad was on the chest beside his bed, and when she tilted it to catch the light from the landing she could see he’d drawn more pictures of Cully. Turning over the pages, there were sketches of the bird standing on a porch rail or flying toward a figure she supposed was Michael. She stayed for a minute or two longer, watching her son sleep. On the outside he seemed peaceful, untroubled. She remembered the sound of his laughter when he was just a baby, how he giggled when she tickled him, the first time he spoke her name. It seemed such a faraway echo, such a long time ago. She felt a swelling sensation that rose into her throat and her eyes began to smart. Turning away she left his room, quietly closing the door behind her.
In her own room she crawled into bed and turned out the light, but sleep wouldn’t come. She was in a kind of drowsy half-conscious state, cocooned in warmth and darkness. Alcohol was still swirling in her brain. She recalled Coop’s shoulders beneath her hands when they’d kissed. She felt bad about what happened, and in a moment of fantasy she imagined that she hadn’t stopped him. She thought of him lying with her in the dark, her hands running across his back. She caressed herself beneath the T-shirt she was wearing, cupping her breasts and squeezing her thighs together. The sensations in her body came unexpectedly. The warmth that spread up from her loins took her by surprise.
With her eyes closed she pictured half-formed images dissolving and rearranging themselves. She thought of Coop on the drive home, thoughtful, his face in shadow, and then of kissing him. His image faded and was replaced with memories of making love with David. Tears escaped her eyes to run down her cheeks.
She banished David from her mind, imagining being made love to by an anonymous male body. She couldn’t see his face, nor did she feel compelled to, but she thought of flesh molding against her own and she immersed herself in sensation.
Afterwards, her breathing became deep and regular. When she finally fell asleep she dreamt of things she wouldn’t remember in the light of day. Only a vague unsettling discontent would linger. She curled into a tight ball, hugging her knees to her chest.
CHAPTER 21
Susan woke early. She heard Jamie moving about and guessed he was getting ready to go over to the house next door again. That made her think about what happened the night before with Coop. She remembered how the night had ended, and groaned. She shouldn’t have had so much to drink.
She heard the sound of a car coming down the track, followed by a knock at the door and the dog barking. After a minute Jamie went down the stairs and she heard a voice. She got out of bed and looked outside and saw Michael Somers’ car. As she pulled on a robe Jamie appeared at her door.
‘What is it?’ she asked. He came over and grabbed her hand and pulled her to the door. ‘Okay, I’m coming.’ She was mystified. He seemed excited.
When she got downstairs Michael was standing at the door.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ he said.
‘That’s okay. I was about to get up anyway,’ she lied. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No. I’m taking Cully to a place in the mountains, towards Falls Pass. I need more space to fly her. I thought Jamie might want to come along, if it’s okay with you.’
She was taken aback. It was one thing for Jamie to go over to his house which was only just through the trees, but to actually let him go with Michael up into the mountains was a different matter.
‘The thing is, Jamie’s not that great around people,’ she said, realizing that he probably wouldn’t want to go anyway.
‘That’s okay. I just thought I’d ask.’
He nodded like he understood, but as he turned away she was torn. She had the feeling he was expecting her to say no. She wanted to explain that it didn’t matter what she said, that she couldn’t make Jamie do something he didn’t want to, but then Jamie pushed past her and turned and gave her a questioning look. It took her a moment to absorb what he was trying to tell her.
‘Do you want to go with Mr Somers? Is that it?’
He nodded. She felt conflicting emotions. Surprise. Uncertainty. Happiness. Something had changed for Jamie and it took her by surprise so she didn’t know how to react.
‘Look, if you’re not comfortable it’s okay,’ Michael said. He looked at Jamie. ‘We can do it another time.’
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m just not used to this.’ She made a helpless gesture. How could she explain? ‘You have to know him to understand.’
‘He’ll be okay, I’ll bring him back in a few hours.’
‘Okay. Thanks,’ she said.
She watched Jamie get in the car and turn around in his seat to look at the falcon standing on the perch in the back, his eyes alive with excitement. How long had she been wishing for this? She waved as she watched them leave, then went inside to worry.
***
Michael took the road toward Falls Pass above the valley. The trees rose steeply on either side of the road forming dark canyons where the sun never penetrated.
Jamie sat in the corner of the seat, his attention fixed on Cully in the back. Michael asked a couple of questions about school, but it was hard to think of things that required only a nod or shake of the head in response, and sensing Jamie’s reluctance, after a while he gave up.
When he was Jamie’s age his dad had taken him on a trip to Williams Lake to pick up some stuff for the store. He remembered the journey taking place in virtual silence. He could picture his dad wearing a red check jacket and a cap with the name of some tool supplier across the front. He had grey hair even then, almost silvery white, and the line of his jaw seemed to be dissolving in folds of skin. Whenever he thought of his dad he saw a similar image, as if he’d always been old.
When he was born his parents were already in their early forties. They’d married in their thirties, but the family they planned had never happened and a difficult birth meant his mother wasn’t able to have more children. Looking back he wondered if this had affected her.
On the way back home that day his dad had taken a detour to a pond that was frozen in winter. He must have planned it ahead of time because Michael’s skates were in the back. There were plenty of people on the pond, kids around his own age, whole families out together. His dad didn’t skate because of an arthritic hip, and as Michael went around the ice his dad stood at the edge watching. By the time he finally came off the light was fading and there were only a few people left. His dad was still standing in the same spot, watching him and patiently waiting.
He remembered getting in the car and feeling warm after all the exercise, while his dad was frozen, his joints stiff from standing so long in the cold. Michael watched him massage his knees, wincing at the pain.
By the time they got home it was dark, and when his mother saw the lights from the window where she’d been waiting she rushed outside.
‘Where have you been?’ she demanded accusingly. She knelt down, crushing Michael to her, and he recalled the sickly s
weet smell of her perfume.
‘We just went skating,’ he said, pulling away from her.
Her eyes contained bright points of light. She glared at his dad. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t know where you were, I was all alone. What if I’d had an attack and fallen down?’ Then she’d sniffed the air like a dog and stood up. ‘You’ve been drinking!’ Michael remembered thinking it wasn’t true, his dad hadn’t taken a drink all day, but his dad hadn’t said anything.
It was one of the few times in his memory that he and his dad had done something together. He saw now that on other occasions when his dad had tried to get him to play ball in the yard or go fishing he’d frozen him out.
At the top of Falls Pass Road they crested a rise, emerging from the tree line high up above the valley. A little further on the road dissected a broad snowfield which rose in a gentle slope toward a high rocky bluff three quarters of a mile away. Beyond, the mountains ranged in ever rising white and blue-grey peaks.
‘This is it,’ Michael said, pulling over.
He fetched Cully from the back and they began to cross the snow away from the road. Sunlight hit the cliffs, bouncing back dazzling reflections from the ice. In places deep shadows formed in the rock face like massive dark holes. The air stung their cheeks, and each breath was like inhaling icy needles. Their steps made a sound like splintering glass.
Half a mile from the road they stopped and Michael took off Cully’s hood. She stood erect on his fist, looking all around at this unfamiliar vista through gleaming eyes. She tested the faint breeze, opening her wings a little, her instincts awakened by the air and the arching sky.
Michael was carrying a portable perch made from a wooden log and a metal spike. His plan had been to leave Cully on it while he prepared the lure, but now he had a better idea. He thrust the spike into the packed snow and let her step onto the perch, then took his glove off and held it out to Jamie.
‘How’d you like to help out?’ he said. ‘I need you to hold Cully on your fist.’
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