“He’s an enterprising chap.”
Ivan nodded.
“Does he pay you to help?” Maggie asked.
“Ah, sometimes he gives me a bit if the customer has been generous. But we have a laugh and a drive so it’s all good. Better than sitting around watching you knit.”
“How about you, Maggie. Do you have plans this evening?” JM asked.
“That knitting Ivan mentioned, I suppose,” she said and picked up the now empty plates.
“Do you like stories, books?”
Ivan snorted. “She reads every chance she gets. You should see the amount she reads in the winter. And if she can’t get new books, she re-reads old ones.” He looked at her. “Gran and Dad were book-crazed, too. I’d wager she’s even read Dad’s old law books.”
“A woman after my own tastes,” JM said and lifted his hand in a mock salute. “You can’t go wrong with reading.”
“I haven’t read much this summer,” she said and scraped the plates ready for washing. “There are too many things to do.” She stifled a sigh. Like earning money, knitting socks and looking for more work.
“Have you read Jalna the one by Mazo de la Roche that came out a couple of years ago? It took the $10,000 prize from the Atlantic Monthly. Made quite a stir.”
Her hands in the dishpan, she looked over her shoulder. “I know the book, but I haven’t found a copy yet.”
JM lounged back in his chair, one arm hooked over the back. “I have a copy. If you like, I can read to you while you knit.”
Maggie flushed and turned back to the dishwashing. The thought of his melodic tones reading the book sent a jolt through her. “You don’t have to do that. But I’d love to borrow it.”
“I used to read to my grandmother while she did handiwork.” A long pause followed his words. “She never learned to read. I’d bought Jalna especially for her. It was the last book we shared.” His chair grated, and he came to dry the dishes. “Besides, you’ll be doing me a favor by listening,” he said. “It’ll get my voice ready for teaching. And once school starts I’ll have marking and lesson plans to occupy me. I need to do some leisure reading now.”
“I’m sorry about your grandmother.” Maggie shot him a glance. “Did she die recently?”
“It’s been almost a year,” JM said. He opened the cabinet door to store the dishes and for a few moments, she couldn’t see his face. “Losing her was one of the reasons I decided to look elsewhere for work.” He drew a deep breath and shut the cabinet. “It’s settled then. You knit and I’ll read. It’ll keep both of us out of trouble.”
Ivan came up behind them. “You two enjoy yourselves. I need to get going.”
Maggie jerked her head around. Goodness. I forgot Ivan is still here. How did that happen?
* * *
JM drove Maggie and Ivan to church the next morning. “I’ll see you after the service,” he said and went to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Himmelman. He sat with them during the service and as they left the church, she noticed Mr. Himmelman introducing him around.
There was no social that week, but chatty groups gathered in the front yard. Ivan followed her out but split off to join Boris and Eugene. Minutes later he came back.
“We’re going to Lunenburg,” he said. “I won’t be home until suppertime.” And off he went without a please or if-you-don’t-mind. Times had changed since he was a little boy.
Maggie chatted with Doris and others from the quilting bee.
“I’ll let you know when we are getting together again,” Doris said. “One more session and we should finish that quilt. Then we’ll be looking for another one. And, if you’re interested, we get together evenings for rug hooking.”
“That sounds like fun,” Maggie said. “How does it work?”
“Much like the quilting. Someone puts a pattern on a rug base and we all bring our materials and get to work on it. Everyone gets a turn to have their rug hooked.”
“I’ll start cutting fabric,” Maggie said. Rugs would be a good use for some of her father’s clothing. They were all too small for Ivan. “When will you be getting together?”
“Probably not until October. I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” Maggie turned away and almost collided with JM. “Why, Mr. McInnis, fancy seeing you here.” She managed to keep a straight face.
Aunt Maude brushed against Maggie and, elbowing in front of her, stuck out her hand. “You must be the new teacher. Come on now, Maggie, introduce us. You are his landlady after all.”
Eloise, lingering behind her mother, put a hand over her mouth and rolled her eyes skyward.
“Mrs. Conrad, this is Mr. McInnis. And yes, he is the new teacher and my tenant.”
“How nice to meet you,” Aunt Maude said, and simpered. “I’m Maggie’s aunt.” She reached behind her without looking and gripped Eloise’s arm. “And this is my daughter, Eloise.” She pulled her forward. “Shake hands, Eloise.”
Maggie closed her eyes and sighed. But not before she saw the red flush color her cousin’s face. She opened them to see Uncle Henry advancing on them. Just in time. “Mr. McInnis, this is my uncle, Captain Henry Conrad.”
“Ah. Captain Conrad. Your ship is the Lucky Lucy, isn’t it?”
Henry puffed like a peacock. “I’m surprised you know, I understand you’re new in town.”
“I try and get to know the who’s who of a new place,” JM said.
Maggie looked down and edged slightly back. He certainly knew how to impress.
“Mr. McInnis, you and your wife must come to a meal at our place.”
“I’m single,” he said and grinned at Maggie.
“Then you must join us for a meal. I’ll let Maggie know and you come along with her.”
JM nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be happy to join you. I’ve heard you are an accomplished cook.”
Now, where had he heard that? Aunt Maude blushed. “I do my best,” she said.
JM turned to Maggie. “Are we ready?” He held out his arm and escorted her to the car.
Maggie didn’t dare look back. Aunt Maude would be watching their every move.
“Your aunt and uncle are an interesting pair,” JM said and opened the car door.
“That’s one word for it,” Maggie said, as she stepped into the car. “But they are good people and they are family.” Even if they make me a bit crazy now and then.
“How about a trip to Bridgewater for lunch?” JM asked once he was seated. “My treat.”
A drive to Bridgewater. What a perfectly lovely idea. “Yes, I’d like that.” Away from Aunt Maude and others who might ask questions she didn’t want to answer.
She kept her gaze on how he shifted the gear stick. At least that’s what she thought it was. She observed his every move. It didn’t look too difficult. I’m sure I can learn to drive.
The landscape slid past, fields green and thriving, and wooded areas verdant and lush. I don’t look around enough. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. And I haven’t relaxed since father died. She sat silently, totally removed from problems and decisions.
Soon they were putt-putting down King Street in Bridgewater. “There are more cars here,” she said and ran her gaze over the parked vehicles. What kind of car would I buy?
JM pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine. “Penny for your thoughts.”
She didn’t answer, and he tried again. “I’ll add a dessert in exchange for your thoughts.”
She blushed and focused on him. “Sorry, my mind was wool-gathering.”
“Come on. Let’s go find a lunch spot.”
A bakery down the street had a small seating area and advertised sandwiches for sale. JM escorted her in with a hand on her back, his touch a pleasant sensation. Flustered, Maggie looked around the room. JM seated her at a table and purchased sandwiches, tea, and cupcakes at the serve-yourself counter.
“Here we are,” he said and set the tray on the table. “Let’s enjoy. I’ll pour the tea while you
tell me your thoughts.”
“It’s not much of an exchange,” she said. “I was admiring the scenery and thinking about absolutely nothing.”
He laughed. “Actually, I’m happy to hear that. You always seem to have so much to do.” He passed the sandwiches and they ate in a comfortable silence.
Finished his sandwich, JM pulled his cup closer and picked up a cupcake. “Go on,” he said, “have a cupcake. My grannie always told me chocolate fixes a lot of things.”
“Smart lady, your grannie.” Maggie took her cupcake and bit into to it. “This is good.”
JM nodded but said nothing. They ate and sipped in silence and Maggie watched people pass outside. Contentment settled around her. Unlike sitting opposite her uncle, or the bank manager, sitting with JM created calm. She licked the last of the chocolate off her fingertips and sighed. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this break.”
JM nodded. “You deserve a break.” He paused. “Did you lose your husband in the war?” he asked. “I knew a lot of good men who were lost.”
“Yes.” She licked her finger and picked up a chocolate crumb. “He was overseas for five of our six-month marriage.” She raised her gaze. “Sounds like you were overseas.”
“Yes, but I was one of the lucky ones. I not only came home, but I came home in one piece. It was a horrible war. But like most of us who came back, I don’t like to talk about it.”
Maggie took the hint and asked no other questions, even though he’d started it.
“Are you ready?” he asked. When she nodded he stood. “Let’s go home to Riverport.”
Home? Is it his home now? Is it even mine? And how does one define home?
Conversation filled the drive home. They talked about books and stories, music and food.
“You cook?” Maggie asked. “How did that happen?”
“I’ve cooked for years,” he said. “My grandmother taught me. We were four boys without a mother. The older three went fishing with my dad and I stayed at home with Grannie.”
“Did you mind being excluded from the rest of the family?”
“No. I preferred school and reading and looked for occupations on land. Grannie kept house and cooked, but as she got older, her arthritis got in the way. She’d sit in her rocker and tell me what to do. By sixteen, I did it all. I never did master baking though.”
“That’s an unusual life for a boy.” Maggie hoped she hadn’t overstepped.
JM laughed. “Certainly was. But the result is I learned that both men and women can cook and clean and both can learn just about anything else as well. I had a cousin, a girl, who lived with her family quite far into the bush. She could track and hunt just as well as any man.”
Maggie saw her opening. “Then I can learn to drive a car?”
He glanced at her. “Of course. Lots of women do. It’s just that in smaller communities, things haven’t caught up. Would you like me to teach you?”
A thrill shot through her. “You would do that?”
“Of course. When do you want to start?”
Maggie tipped back her head and laughed. She put out her arms and embraced the world. “Oh goodness. Sorry. It’s just so exciting.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “How about now?”
JM laughed. “You certainly can.” He turned onto a side road and turned off the engine. “Come on around, Miss Maggie.” He stepped out of the driver’s seat.
Maggie sighed. A new adventure. Pure bliss.
He handed her into the driver’s seat, sat next to her and handed her the key. “We’ll start at the beginning.”
He named the car parts from the steering wheel to clutch pedal. He explained the dials. And then they got to the real action. “Put the key in the ignition. Put your left foot on the clutch and your right on the brake pedal. Now, push both of them in all the way.”
Maggie did, feeling the give in the clutch and the resistance in the brake.
“Keep the brake in and push the clutch in and out slowly a few times.” He cupped his hands and held them with the fingers on each hand facing the other. “There are cogs,” he said and interlocked his fingertips. “When they engage, they turn the gears.” He pulled his hands back until the fingers were not touching. “When you push in the clutch, you disengage the gears so that you can shift them manually with the gear stick. When you let the clutch out slowly, the gears engage and the car is propelled forward.”
She saw the picture in her head. A bit like the sewing machine pedal turning the needle up and down. “Oh goodness. It sounds easy.”
“With practice, it’s not only easy but automatic,” he said. “Most people have no idea how the gears and clutch work. But I’ve found it easier to get anything right if I understand what’s happening. Now. Make sure you are pushing the brake pedal and the clutch. Turn the key.”
She did. The engine started and her heart raced with it. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and grinned at JM. “I did it.”
He laughed. “That’s the easy part. Now, you are going to slowly let out the clutch.” He demonstrated with his hands. “And ease back on the brake at the same time, and the car should move forward. Once you’ve done that, push the clutch and brake back in so we stop.”
Maggie pinched her lips together and stared straight ahead. She let out the clutch and brake and the car hopped forward. The engine sputtered. She slammed home both the brake and the clutch and the engine settled down. Oh, my goodness. I made it go. It feels like Christmas.
“Well done. Most people stall on their first try. We’re going to do this a few times, and then you can drive farther and learn how to shift from one gear to the other. You wouldn’t get far in first gear alone.”
Maggie nodded and tried again. I am going to master this. After several tries, she drove down the road. Soon she was shifting from first gear to second. And once she even put it in third. Finally, at JM’s instruction, she stopped, turned off the engine and left the car in first gear. “I did it.” She said to him. “I drove. I’m going to be a driver.”
He pried her hands off the steering wheel. “You certainly did, but you can let go now.”
Maggie sat back. She ran her hands loosely around the wheel and patted the dashboard. “I love it. I am going to save my money for my own car.” She would be able to go to town and take a relaxing drive in the country. You have to pay the loan first. Don’t get ahead of yourself. She plunked back to her reality.
“Enough for today,” JM said. “Let’s head home. You’ve done well. We’ll be able to order you a driver’s license.”
Her own driver’s license. She hadn’t thought about that. “Where do I order one?”
“It’s quite hard,” he said, his face stern.”
“Will I qualify?”
He laughed. “Sears still sells them. If you can fill in a form, you can get one.”
She slapped his shoulder for teasing her but laughed with him.
JM took the driver’s seat and started the car.
“This is the most fun I’ve had, well, in years.” She breathed deeply.
JM started singing, “pack up your troubles in your old kit bag....” Maggie joined in and they rolled up her driveway on a high note.
Chapter Nine
On the silver tide of life
We roll on from year to year.
But the golden thread of memory
Breaks asunder joys and tears.
Monday morning, Ivan left before dawn for his job with Charlie Roberts. They’d be fishing every day but Sunday. JM breakfasted with her and headed out on his so-called rambles. He’d told her not to expect him for supper. Maggie, garbed in bibbed coveralls, tended the garden. She smiled as she pulled weeds. What an easy man to have around. The clouds cleared and the sun heated the landscape.
She wiped the back of her wrist over her forehead and tucked flying strands of hair behind her ears. The weeded rows stretched out behind her. Enough. She went in and enjoyed a mid-morning cup of tea an
d contemplated her job potentials. The housekeeping mentioned at the quilting on Saturday came to mind. It was the only one.
She washed her teacup and, abandoning the comfortable coveralls, donned a beige, print housedress. Although drab, it did have a modern, dropped waistline. A small mirror reflected her destroyed hairdo. Darn hair. She brushed it into submission and twisted it in a new bun. Feeling more like a housekeeper than she’d like, she headed for the house on the hill behind the Zincks’.
The property had been vacant since the owner, a schooner captain, had moved to Hantsport. The yard needed tending, the pots once filled with plants squatted sadly along the walk and the windows reflected rain spatter and dust. If the inside reflected the same sorry state, they certainly needed a housecleaner if not a housekeeper.
A knock on the door eventually brought a response and Maggie faced a pregnant woman and two small children. She raised her gaze to the woman’s face.
The woman stared back. “Maggie, Maggie Conrad.” The woman reached for her and pulled her into a hug.
“Violet Cunningham,” Maggie responded. “Well, I never.”
They held each other’s hands and laughed. The children, not understanding, nonetheless clung to their mother’s legs and laughed with the adults.
“Come in, for heaven’s sake.” Violet took each child by a hand and made room in the hall for Maggie. “I knew you grew up around here but never suspected I’d find you.”
She picked up the smallest child and the other protested. Maggie scooped up the boy and followed Violet into the sunny kitchen.
“Tell me....” they spoke in unison and laughed again.
“You first....” More laughter that delighted the children.
Maggie wiped her eyes and nodded. “Go ahead, tell me about yourself.”
“Well, it’s Violet MacDonald now,” she said. “I married Reg MacDonald right after the war. You remember him?”
Maggie nodded.
“And this is Reggie.” Violet touched the boy on the head, “and Lily.” She bounced the girl on her knee. “And this is number three.” She placed a hand on her swollen abdomen. “Reg did really well after the war in building supplies. He bought this place for the summers, for the children.” She set Lily on the floor and handed her a doll. “Now you. What happened to James?”
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