Harvey Holds His Own

by Colleen Nelson

  Mrs. Fradette gives one of her barky laughs. “Exactly!” Mrs. Fradette plumps the pillow behind her. The apartment is looking more organized. A few ornaments have been unpacked and stored in a cabinet. Framed photos of grandkids sit beside a lamp on the end table, and books have been placed on a shelf.

  Maggie wonders if unpacking is what raised Mrs. Fradette’s blood pressure.

  “My son called today,” Mrs. Fradette says. “He wanted a photo of my car so he could write up an ad. He says there’s a website that sells cars like mine.”

  “Did you send him one?”

  “I’m still thinking about it,” Mrs. Fradette says. “I just can’t imagine someone else driving her.”

  Maggie watches Mrs. Fradette carefully. Maybe it is thinking about selling her car that raises her blood pressure, not the unpacking. “There’s no rush to decide, is there?”

  Mrs. Fradette considers Maggie’s words. “No, I guess there isn’t. I have a parking spot and insurance is taken care of.” Her face relaxes.

  Maggie reaches into her backpack. “I found something for you. On the internet.” Maggie hands Mrs. Fradette a printedout photograph of the nuns canoeing on the St. Ambrose school grounds. She’d searched for it on a whim, knowing Mrs. Fradette would get a kick out of it.

  “Oh goodness! Oh my!” Mrs. Fradette laughs. “There they are!” She looks at the photo as if it is a long-lost friend.

  Maggie sits down on the couch beside her. She can smell Mrs. Fradette’s perfume and sees the slight tremble in her hands.

  “Seeing this takes me right back to Mémère’s kitchen. Every day when the paper came, Mom would spread it out on the table. All the articles were about the flood. Things in Winnipeg were tense. Dad had taken to calling himself a ‘flood bachelor,’ which Mom didn’t like at all. Dad said some of the neighborhoods he patrolled were ghost towns as the water kept creeping up. The Lyndale dike had held, but the whole city was holding its breath, waiting for the water to go one way or the other.

  “There were new concerns to worry about now too. Kids getting sick because of dirty drinking water. Some children were being sent away even if their parents had to stay.”

  Maggie frowns as she listens.

  “More and more, my mom was relieved we’d left when we did, but she worried about Ronny. She wanted Dad to send him up by train, but he wouldn’t leave. I didn’t blame him. It must have been exciting ferrying people out of their flooded houses in the motorboats. All those Scouts were being put to good use. But for me, Laurier was where I wanted to be.”

  She smiles at Maggie, but it’s a tired smile and Maggie worries she’s wearing her out with the talking. “Do you want anything?” Maggie asks. “Some water? A rest?”

  Mrs. Fradette shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. It’s just so nice to have company. All the other ladies are jealous you come to visit me.” Mrs. Fradette winks at Maggie. “It’s why I haven’t been in a rush to unpack. If it’s all done, you won’t have a reason to visit!”

  Mrs. Fradette says it in a teasing way, but Maggie is filled with a rush of tenderness for the old lady. “I’d still visit,” Maggie says. “There was a photo in the collage. It looked like you were standing with a baby deer.” Maggie half expects Mrs. Fradette to frown at her, confused.

  Instead, she says, “Oh yes, that was my fawn, Peggy.”

  “You had a pet deer?” For anyone else, this question would be absurd, but not for Mrs. Fradette.

  Mrs. Fradette nods. “She thought she was a pet anyway. She went everywhere with me.”

  “How did—?” Maggie doesn’t quite get the whole sentence out before Mrs. Fradette fluffs the pillow behind her back and starts talking again. Maggie settles in to listen.

  Chapter 40

  Maggie

  “Pépère and I were driving on a gravel road. It had stormed the day before and the road was full of potholes. Pépère had to drive along the shoulder to stay clear of them. That was when I spotted something in the ditch. At first, I thought it was a dog and asked Pépère to pull over. I jumped out of the truck and made my way down into the ditch to where she was, this little brown thing, curled up into a ball.

  “I bent down to get a better look. Her eyes were open wide and she was shivering. ‘It’s not a dog,’ I shouted to Pépère. ‘It’s a fawn!’ Pépère came to have a look. She wasn’t a newborn, but she was very young, still had her white spots. I crouched down and let her sniff my hand. ‘Something must have happened to the mother,’ I said.

  “She didn’t try to run, maybe because she was too weak or too scared, so I reached out and touched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t flinch. Her hair was velvety soft but her nose was dry as a bone and I said so to Pépère. She was going to die if we didn’t feed her.

  “I could tell Pépère didn’t like the idea of interrupting the natural course of things. ‘We can’t take her with us,’ he said gently.

  “‘Why not?’

  “Pépère ran a hand over his chin. He did that a lot when he was thinking about something. ‘She’s a wild animal, Josephine.’

  “‘So’s Henri,’ I pointed out. ‘At least he was until you took him in.’

  “‘He’s a cat. This is a deer.’

  “‘She’s going to die if we leave her here,’ I said again. I stroked her head and she looked up at me, grateful. With her legs curled under her she didn’t look any bigger than Henri. ‘I’m not going without her,’ I said.” Mrs. Fradette shakes her head. “I meant it too. Poor Pépère. He didn’t stand a chance.

  “Pépère sighed. ‘All right. Can you pick her up?’

  “I nodded and put one hand under her neck and the other behind her legs. She didn’t weigh much—she was all legs. I could feel her heart fluttering a mile a minute. Pépère opened the gate to the truck and helped me up. I sat down and held the deer in my lap. Weak and scared, she didn’t stir once.

  “‘I’ll go slow,’ Pépère said. ‘Hold on.’” Mrs. Fradette sits back, a faint smile on her lips. Maggie doesn’t say anything, letting her enjoy the memory.

  “When we got home, Pépère went inside and explained to my mom and Mémère what had happened. Mom came out of the house shaking her head at me. But Mémère brought a bowl of milk and lay it on the veranda. I carried the deer up the front steps and sat down with her. She settled against me like she was my own child.

  “I pulled the bowl of milk closer. Mémère knelt down and showed me how to dip my finger in the milk and hold it to the fawn’s mouth to give her a taste for it. It wasn’t long before she was sucking the milk off my finger.

  “‘Josephine,’ my mom warned. ‘It’s not staying. Don’t get attached.’

  ‘She’ll be less work than Michel,’ I said. ‘Anyway, there’s no fence back here. She’s free to go when she’s strong enough.’ Oh, I was a sassy thing, wasn’t I?” Mrs. Fradette looks at Maggie, who smiles and nods in confirmation.

  “I named her Peggy. Leggy Peggy was what Pépère called her. I didn’t go into the garage that day. I was content to sit out on the veranda nursing her back to health. She made little mewling noises while she slept and tucked her nose under a leg, curled up as tight as can be. I already felt like I was her mama.”

  Maggie thinks back to Harvey’s puppy days, when he was still so new and she was responsible for keeping him safe and fed and warm.

  “I didn’t want to leave her alone when night came, but Mom insisted I sleep inside. I packed a quilt around her for warmth, even though I was sure she’d be gone in the morning. But when I woke up, there she was! Sleeping on the veranda, just where I’d left her.”

  “She didn’t want to leave,” Maggie says, smiling.

  Mrs. Fradette nods. “After a few days, she was strong enough to drink on her own. Pépère figured she was about two weeks old by the way she was starting to forage. She’d follow me to the garage sometimes a
nd chase moths in the field. That was how Norm Lacroix found out about her.”

  Maggie’s mouth tightens at the mention of Norm Lacroix, the boy who threw the rock at Henri. She waits for more, but Mrs. Fradette lies back on her pillow and lets out a long breath, as if she’s just run a marathon. “I’m a little worn out today.”

  “I’ve kept you talking too long,” Maggie says guiltily.

  “It’s not your fault. I’ve just got an old motor. Besides, I like telling these stories. It’s good to remember the good and the bad.” Mrs. Fradette sits up and swings first one leg, then the other to the ground. It’s an action that Maggie could do in one smooth motion, but for Mrs. Fradette, it requires effort. “I think I’ll go lie down.”

  Maggie stands up too and takes Mrs. Fradette’s arm, even though she hasn’t asked for help. Together they walk into the bedroom. On the bedside table is a glass of water and a wedding photo in a silver frame. Maggie lowers Mrs. Fradette to the bed and covers her legs with a quilt.

  “You’re a kind girl, Margaret. Thank you.” Her eyes are closed before Maggie leaves the room.

  In the hallway, Maggie looks again at the photo of Mrs. Fradette and Peggy. Something about the way Mrs. Fradette is telling the story makes Maggie think it’s not going to end well for Peggy. She made a comment about remembering good and bad memories; and that horrible Norm Lacroix is back too.

  With a final glance at the photo, Maggie heads to the library, thoughts of Laurier, a twelve-year old Josephine, and Peggy dancing in her head.

  When Maggie gets home from Brayside, she heads to her room with Harvey at her heels. He curls up on her bed while she sits at her desk and turns on her computer. She’s researching garages in the 1950s. Only a few minutes later, she gets a text.

  Who wants to go to Tubby’s tmw? Lexi’s text reads. Tubby’s is a pizza place and the hangout for St. Ambrose students.

  Bri replies Yes right away, but Maggie stares at the text, hesitating. She knows she should be relieved to be included.

  She’s part of the trio again. But if she goes she’ll miss the surprise party for Austin’s grandpa at Brayside. After typing up the letters and seeing how much he means to the residents, she doesn’t want to miss it.

  And trying to explain that to her friends, who already think she’s weird for enjoying her time at Brayside, feels impossible.

  So, instead of responding, she turns her phone over and ignores the text. It’s cowardly, and she knows it. A voice that sounds an awful lot like Mrs. Fradette’s tells her if they are really her friends, they’ll understand, but another voice reminds her that she’s already on shaky ground. Another misstep and she’ll tumble off the ledge. Maggie sighs. It’s a no-win situation. She glances at Harvey. He’s curled up on her bed with her sock in his mouth. He worked hard to yank it off her foot and now won’t let it go. She wishes her life could be as worry-free as his.

  Her phone beeps with a text. Are you coming or not? It’s from Lexi but in a group chat with Brianne.

  IDK, Maggie replies.

  Why not?

  I might have other plans.

  Maggie hesitates before pressing the send button. It’s a lame reply, vague. Would Lexi press her for details? Or leave it alone?

  Lexi: OMG. Not the old people!

  Brianne: LOL. Would you like us more if we had walkers?

  Lexi: White hair?

  Brianne: Adult diapers?

  Lexi and Brianne think it’s a joke. They have no idea what it’s like hearing Mrs. Fradette’s stories. If they did, they wouldn’t make fun of her. Maggie tosses her phone on her bed, narrowly missing Harvey. He sits up, startled.

  Is she being too sensitive, or are they being hurtful on purpose?

  They’d invited her to join them, but she doesn’t feel part of them the way she used to. Maggie realizes the truth of what’s bothering her, and it has nothing to do with their comments. Maybe she’s outgrowing them, and not the other way around.

  Chapter 41

  Harvey

  Despite looking comfortable on Maggie’s bed, Harvey is unsettled. All around him, things are different.

  First, there is the matter of outside. Despite his best efforts to pee in every corner, and keeping a vigilant watch at the sliding doors, something is still coming into his yard. He could smell it when he was let out in the morning.

  Then there is the change in his Maggie. She used to carry herself lightly. Her steps skipped and Harvey had to be quick to keep up. Now, her feet are heavy. Her gait is weighted down, thoughtful.

  An air of burden swims around his Maggie and Harvey doesn’t know how to make it go away. Today, when she came home, Harvey ran to the door to greet her, jumping with excitement at her return. Harvey has no sense of time. Her absence could have been five minutes or five hours and his reaction would have been the same. Harvey wants nothing more than to be with his Maggie.

  Maggie says a quick hello to her mom and goes upstairs to her room with Harvey at her heels. Harvey would love a walk and gently nips at her fingers while she’s patting him. “Not now, Harvs,” Maggie says. “I have stuff to do.”

  She sits down at her desk, then pulls notebooks and pens out of her backpack. Harvey isn’t ready to give up. He sniffs out Maggie’s feet and starts to yank on one sock, determined to pull it off. The wiggling toes surprise and delight him, but what he really wants is that tasty sock. Maggie giggles and kicks her feet away. Spurred on by her laughter, he redoubles his efforts, digging his hind legs in and clamping his teeth on the stretchy fabric. A sock will be his!

  After working hard, he’s rewarded and leaps up onto Maggie’s bed with one sock dangling out of his mouth. He lies down so he can keep an eye on her. From under his feathery white lashes he sees her check her phone and make a noise of disappointment, the same sound he gets when he has an accident on the carpet. He lifts his head. Has he done something wrong? Maggie keeps staring at her phone. Even from where he sits on the bed, he can feel her body tense. His Maggie is angry. She tosses her phone to the bed, narrowly missing Harvey.

  Chapter 42

  Maggie

  When Maggie sees the girls at their lockers on Thursday morning, she behaves as she normally does, and is met with silence. They talk to each other as if she isn’t there. And while they don’t mention last night’s text-versation, Maggie knows it is why they are ignoring her. Imagining the things that were said behind her back gives her a stomachache. Three has never been a good number—too many sharp corners, and now Maggie is the odd one out.

  She grits her teeth all morning, but by lunch can’t take it anymore. She considers calling her mom to ask if she can go home, but then she won’t be allowed to go to Brayside. So she seeks refuge in the school library, sneaking bites of her sandwich at the computer station. At locker breaks, she times her steps carefully and manages to continue evading the girls.

  On a whim, she checks the website for the shelter where Austin took the puppy. There are lots of adoptable dogs, mostly large ones. The puppy isn’t listed. Is it because it’s still too young, or, and Maggie hates to think this, did it not survive? The puppy had the odds stacked against it. Maybe that was why Harvey was so protective? He knew it didn’t have long to live?

  At the end of the day, Maggie grabs her backpack and leaves, anxious to get to Brayside. At least there, she always feels welcome.

  Chapter 43

  Austin

  Concentrating at school isn’t easy for me most days, but this afternoon it was impossible. With the fake workiversary party looming, all I could think about was what would happen if Grandpa found out.

  And then the what-ifs started to sneak back in. What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m too late?

  Getting fired from Brayside would be the ultimate betrayal for Grandpa. He’s given so much to that place. It’s more than just a job; the residents are like family to h
im. By the time I get to Brayside after school, I’m a nervous wreck.

  “Where is he?” I whisper to Louise. She gives me a conspiratorial wink as I stash my backpack behind the reception desk.

  “I sent your grandpa to Mr. Santos’ room. He’s going to keep him busy while we get set up.” I wince at the thought of being stuck with Mr. Santos until five o’clock. Grandpa might actually want to take forced retirement after the sixty minutes are up.

  “And I told him he has to come to the sing-along today. He mumbled something about being tone deaf, but I told him Mrs. O’Brien had baked something special for him.”

  “Good thinking,” I say.

  A familiar SUV pulls up to the curb outside and a minute later a ball of scruffy white fur races inside, followed by Maggie. “I asked my mom if she’d let me bring him today,” Maggie explains, unclipping his leash from his collar. “Your grandpa was really nice to him when he was lost. I thought he should be here.”

  Harvey’s tail is wagging so fast his butt levitates off the ground. I laugh and bury my hands in the fur between his ears, then down his back. When I look at Maggie, I expect to see her smiling too, but she’s not. “Everything okay?” I ask. Something is wrong. Even her hair doesn’t look as bright as usual.

  Maggie gives a one-shoulder shrug. “School sucked today.” I know how that feels. “Did you do bad on a test?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “My friends are mad at me.” Maggie bites her lips, hesitating. “They wanted me to hang out with them at Tubby’s Pizza Place, but instead I came here.”

  “But you couldn’t go! It’s the party.”

  “Exactly!” She looks relieved that I see her side of it. “I can go to Tubby’s anytime.”

  Maggie doesn’t have to explain to me what she gets out of being at Brayside. “Maybe you could bring them sometime? They could meet Mrs. Fradette.”