by Lesley Crewe
“Good night, Steve,” I wave at him.
“Goodbye, Chloe,” he waves back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
One of my favourite purchases while I was away is a gorgeous handbag that’s as soft as butter and lined with silk. My old purses have to go, so I root around inside them, making sure I don’t miss a credit card or an extra key before I throw them out. I come across the phone number Dexter gave me for his pity-party bereavement group. I toss it onto my bedside table and use it as a coaster for a week, but because I’m trying to ignore it, it becomes a beacon that shines in the dark. I’ve proven that I don’t need people, so why would this crowd have any answers for me?
On the other hand…it’s not like I’m doing anything else.
The number is now covered with circles from pop cans. I can barely make it out—the ink is bleeding into the damp patches—but I press on. It’s ringing.
“Together We’re Better. Mary speaking. Can I help you?”
“Probably not, Mary, but when is your next meeting?”
“It’s tonight. We meet every second and fourth Tuesday of the month.”
“And this is for people who’ve lost parents?”
“Yes.”
“Is there an expiry date? It’s not like I lost them last week.”
“The fact that you’re calling is the answer to that question.”
Mary is a know-it-all. She gives me the address and says she looks forward to meeting me. I don’t go until two weeks later.
The group meets in a church basement. It’s spooky going down the stairs. The lights are off in the main part, but there’s a door open on the right and I can hear people murmuring inside. There’s a semi-circle of people sitting on chairs facing the woman I assume is Mary.
“Welcome.” She smiles. “Join us.”
Okay, I’ve run into another cult. I don’t want to join them, but everyone swivels their heads to look at me. I’m trapped, so I quickly sit in the first empty chair. Thankfully, Mary continues as if I’m not there, which means I don’t have to introduce myself or participate in any way.
Sad to say, I don’t even listen to Mary. I’m too busy observing this diverse group. None of them would have anything to do with the others in real life, and yet here they sit together, the young with the old, the well-dressed matrons beside the party girls, the businessmen beside the street kids and college students. I’m lost in the crowd.
Most everyone speaks at one point or the other and there are some tears, but I notice this bunch doesn’t flinch. Crying isn’t a sin here. The stories are all different, but the result is the same: Losing your parent is like walking around with no skin. The world can hurt you now that your protection is gone. Who do you belong to? Who is there to say, “I remember the day you were born.” The two people who created you have disappeared and left you alone in the universe. Shouldn’t you be with them?
When I sense things coming to a close, I skedaddle so that Mary can’t corner me.
That Friday is the start of the long weekend holiday in August. Amanda calls and asks me if I want to come over and play in their paddling pool. My life must be at a new low; I’m excited about the prospect. After loading up with candy for everyone, I arrive to find Daddy Partridge chasing the baby Partridges around the yard with a water hose. He sprays me as I come through the gate.
“Oops, sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, take that grin off your face.”
Amanda waves me over to the chaise lounges. “Never mind them, what’s in the bags?”
We settle ourselves in our chairs and eat junk food while the father of the year keeps the kids busy.
“Your husband—”
”Is amazing. I know. My mother says I don’t deserve him.” She holds her lollipop in the air. “Speaking of great guys, have you seen Austin?”
“No.”
She pantomimes choking me. “Friggin’ frig frig!”
Ignore her. “How’s work?”
“They’ve renewed The Single Guy for next season.”
“I hope Mr. Gardner offered it to you.”
Amanda looks over at her kids. “Yeah, but I don’t think I’m going to take it.”
Now it’s my turn to choke her. “Why? Not because of me, I hope, because I’d be thrilled for you.”
She reaches over and pats my forearm. “No, not because of you. The schedule is a little too gruelling. Being away from home for months isn’t fair to Jason. I’d rather work on local programs, so I can be in my own bed at night. Besides, I really missed my kids. Work isn’t everything in life.”
The boys run over to their mom squealing and put their cold, wet hands on her legs. She screeches and jumps up to chase them back to their kiddie pool. Jason seizes the moment and plops down in her chair.
“Any candy left?”
I pass him the overflowing bag.
“Don’t you just love eating junk that you’ll never let your kids have?” he grins.
“My parents wouldn’t let me eat candy.”
“Life without peanut butter cups and M&M’s isn’t worth living.”
We sit for a while not saying much and watch Amanda in the pool as she helps the boys fill a bucket with water.
“I love her,” I say.
“Me too. That’s why I need some advice.”
I turn my head to face him. “What’s wrong?”
“Her brother Steve was over the other night when Amanda was with her mom. We had a few brews and he spilled his guts basically.”
Instantly, I stop breathing.
“He confessed he’s been a male escort for a year now.”
My eyes are bugging out, which he takes as a sign that I’m as shocked as he is.
“He lost his job and went for the easy money. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Wow.”
“He says he’s finished with it. That he can’t do it anymore. I don’t know whether to believe him because he’s a pretty good liar, but he did sell his car for some cash, so that says something. My dilemma is whether to tell Amanda or not. What do you think?”
“He told you because he’s ashamed to tell his sister. He doesn’t want her to think badly of him.”
“I know, right?”
“He’s doing something about his mistake and starting over. I’d keep it a secret. I won’t say a word.”
Jason nods. “That’s what I thought. Thanks.”
The kids call their father over and he leaves me.
Dear old Steve. I’m proud of him.
As the weeks go by, I spend a lot of time outside with Gramps digging up a section of the back lawn to prepare a garden for next year. It will save a lot of money on vegetables. Gramps was brought up on a farm and knows a ton about growing food. The added bonus is I won’t have to mow as much grass.
“We’ll put the tomato plants and pumpkins in that sunny section, over where Bobby is.”
Bobby meows and rolls over on the hot ground, pointing it out to me. This cat is spooky.
I don’t have a lot of strength, but between the two of us, we manage to work the soil sufficiently, adding bone meal, compost and sheep manure. The hardest part is getting Gramps to stay put while I spray sunblock on him.
“A lot of baloney!” He waves me away. “Something the government thought up, no doubt.”
“You’ll get skin cancer, now stay still.”
He’s pretty agile when he wants to be. I chase him around the yard. “Get back here!”
Aunt Ollie steps outside the back door. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s attacking me!”
“I am not. He’s going to get skin cancer if he doesn’t put on sunscreen.”
“Child, the old coot is probably filled with cancer. He’s been smoking since he was eight.”
“Eight? Are
you kidding me?”
Gramps wipes his forehead with an old handkerchief he produces from his pocket. “Those were the good old days, when just enjoying yourself wasn’t against the law.”
Aunt Ollie comes and sits on the top step, her bone-white legs exposed to the sun. “Give me some of that spray.”
I do, but she goes inside a minute later. “It’s too hot.”
It is too hot. I wish it would rain.
A clap of thunder sends Gramps, Bobby, and I scurrying into the house. We just escape a downpour.
There’s something about rain and thunder that makes me lonely, so I end up going to the group meeting at the church hall. I attend sporadically, so Mary doesn’t think I need her. This time I select a seat somewhere in the middle. I’m not here to talk, just to listen, until Mary decides to stick her nose in.
“Can you relate to any of this, young lady over here?” She points right at me.
“Yes. I’m an orphan.”
“Please. You’re too old to be an orphan.”
I recognize the snarl. I turn my head and sure enough, it’s Dexter’s patient, Tinkerbell. She looks as pleasant as ever, with her black raccoon eye makeup, cheek spikes, and see-through earlobes.
Two can play this game. “The dictionary’s definition of orphan is a child whose parents are dead.”
“Exactly. A child. How old are you?”
She’s good, but Mary’s better: a counsellor who immediately jumps in to keep the argument from escalating. “A very interesting observation. How old do you have to be to feel like an orphan?”
A voice at the back says, “I’m forty and I’m heartbroken. My mother was everything to me.”
The group murmurs and nods its approval. It seems my point has been made. Tinker folds her arms across her chest and glowers before jumping up and walking out of the room.
Now I feel bad. She’s just a kid.
At the next meeting we only have half the crowd. Mary says it could be because of Labour Day.
“Death Takes a Holiday,” Tinkerbell says under her breath.
She’s clever. “That was the title of a movie—”
“I know. A 1934 romantic drama starring Frederic March and Evelyn Venable.
“Do you like watching movies, Tinker?” Mary asks.
“When I’m not getting drunk or blasted out of my mind on prescription drugs.”
One of the other girls rolls her eyes and Tinker sees it.
“What’s up with you, bitch?”
Mary puts her hands up. “Okay, these meetings can get highly emotional, but we don’t insult each other.”
“We’re all angry,” the girl continues, “but getting stoned isn’t the answer.”
Tinker glares at her. “How did your parents die?”
“My dad had prostate cancer.”
“Well, honey, I killed mine. What advice do you have for me now?” Tinker gets up and storms out the door. Mary scans the alarmed faces in our group and tries to settle everyone down.
“She looks like the type who’d murder someone,” the girl says.
“That’s a terrible thing to say. She didn’t murder anyone. Don’t you recognize guilt when you see it?” I brush past the others and leave the room. I can hear everyone buzzing behind me. When I get outside, it’s still raining and I don’t see Tinker at first, but as I hurry to the car I catch sight of the glow of her cigarette. She’s slumped on the bench inside a glass-enclosed bus stop. As I approach her, she looks up.
“You people are relentless.” Taking a big drag, she blows smoke in my direction.
“Do you mind if I sit down?”
“It’s a public space. You can piss here if you want to.”
So I sit and get straight to the point. “I killed my parents too.”
Tinker gives me a sideways glance. “Yeah, right.”
“I did. I told them to shut up and they were electrocuted an hour later on our front lawn.”
“Well, I screamed that I wanted mine dead, dead, dead, and they had a car accident that night. I swear to God they did it on purpose just to stick the knife in one more time.”
“I’d be furious, too, if my parents called me a slut and a bitch and a whore.”
Tinker sits up and stares at me. “Who are you?”
“I was Dr. McDermott’s secretary, remember? Do you want to grab a coffee or something?”
The bus comes around the corner. Tinker grinds the cigarette out with her heel. “I’m not a charity case, lady.” She climbs the bus steps and I watch as she walks down the aisle to sit at the very back.
Gramps and Aunt Ollie and Agatha are at Costco the next Saturday, and little Bobby cat is outside on his leash chasing bugs. “You’re the only one who likes to go outside.”
Bobby nods. I swear on a stack of Bibles, he does. And then I look at him closely and see his nose is three times the size it should be. It doesn’t matter what my relationship is or isn’t with Austin. He’s the only doctor I trust with our family’s feline health.
I’m at the vet’s office in fifteen minutes.
“No, I don’t have an appointment, but this is an emergency. I must see Austin. Bobby might have trouble breathing. Look at this nose.”
Bobby looks like Jimmy Durante but otherwise as healthy as a horse, so she tells me to take a seat. I make my way over to the back corner and sit beside an elderly woman with the most gorgeous dog I’ve ever seen. I’m actually distracted from my own medical crisis.
“Oh my, what a sweetheart.”
“He’s my Dudley,” she sniffs.
Dudley is a fat basset hound with velvet ears that hang to the floor, his woe-is-me expression magnified ten times by his big beautiful brown eyes. I reach over and touch Dudley’s soft head. He gets to his feet and puts his head in my lap so I can continue to stroke him. “You must love him very much.”
“I do.” Her voice cracks and she begins to weep.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Reaching into my new handbag I find a packet of tissues. “Here, please take this.”
She wipes her tears and gathers herself.
“Poor Dudley must be sick, is he?”
“No, he’s fine. But I have to go into a home that doesn’t allow dogs and I have no one to care for him. I’ve agonized over my decision to put him down because he’ll just die without me.”
All thoughts about logistics leave my mind. “I’ll take him! I’ll take him and bring him to visit you.”
She looks shocked. “But…but I don’t know you.”
“I’m a very nice person. I own two cats, but I have a huge house and a big backyard and Dudley could be happy there. I can get references. The vet, Dr. Hawke knows me, and he can vouch for me. I really mean it, Mrs.…”
“Miss Elwood.”
“Oh, Miss Elwood, please reconsider! Dudley is adorable. I love him already.”
“Well, I don’t know…I’m so confused.”
“Take a deep breath and think about it.
Austin comes out from an examining room and looks at the chart. “Dudley Elwood.” Then he looks up and does a double take when he sees me, so I wave and smile. As Miss Elwood rises from her chair, I put my hand on her arm. “I really, really mean it. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”
She’s distracted as she leads Dudley over to Austin, and they disappear behind the closed door. Bobby meows from the carrier. I forgot all about him. “Oh, good, you’re still breathing.”
They are in that room for what seems like forever. Oh, please don’t let her go ahead with it! Surely Austin wouldn’t let that happen. I wish for Miss Elwood to give me Dudley.
Finally Austin pokes his head out and beckons me with his finger. Oh yes! I leap out of the chair and leave Bobby behind.
“Your cat,” someone says,
pointing.
“Oh, goodness, thank you.” Back I go for Bobby. “Don’t tell Gramps I did that, okay?”
Twenty minutes later, I own a dog. Miss Elwood gives me her new address and we make plans to meet twice a week to take Dudley for a walk around her neighbourhood. We agree to the exchange in ten days time. That will give her a chance to get his things in order. She says I need to know the routine and what he eats and his grooming regimen, etc.
“Please, we’ll get it all sorted. I’ll see you soon.”
“Come on, Dudley,” she smiles. “Let’s celebrate and buy steak for supper.” She kisses me on the cheek. “God bless you, child.”
Finally I’m alone with Austin. He smiles at me. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I never know what I’m doing, but it can’t be that hard. I couldn’t let that beautiful animal meet his end that way…at least not until he’s lived his full life.”
“Nice move. How are you?”
“Good. You look great.”
“So do you.”
Bobby says, “Meow.”
“I forgot the cat!” I take Bobby out of the carrier and hold him up. “Look at his nose.”
Austin takes him and gives him a gentle examination. “Looks like he lost a fight with a bumblebee.”
“He’ll be all right, then?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s learned his lesson and will probably leave bees alone the next time he sees one.”
We stand there and look at each other. It’s tricky.
“So, what have you been up to?” I ask him.
“This. You?”
“Nothing much.”
“You’re still not back at the CBC?”
“No, just as well. My mind is decaying.” I rub Bobby’s fur while I talk. “Austin, I’m sorry I threw you out of the house after you gave me your gifts. Miss Manners, I’m not.”
“I deserved it for standing you up. Forget about it.”
“Okay.” Is it me, or is it getting hot in here? I want to kiss that mouth, but look what happened the last time. “I better go.” Back into the carrier goes Bobby. “I’ll see you around.”