“Come into the house,” the man said to Angus, brushing the boy’s hair with one hand, the other placed on the small of his wife’s back, gently urging her inside. “Are you folks all okay?” he asked, turning to Sue and Maggie, who had joined them with Colin and the girls close behind.
They followed the man into a room littered with children’s toys, dirty laundry, and boots stacked on top of each other. Sue leaned against the wall. If the young woman had known how to drive on icy roads, this would not have happened. Almost unable to breathe from the pain across her chest, she waited for the woman to say she was sorry. Instead, she kept on moving, rushing back and forth and round and round like a headless chicken. Finally, Sue sat down on the floor and watched Angus, who did not seem to be hurt, dial a number. Colin and the girls lingered near the doorway. The child who had been in the vehicle with his mother also seemed to be in constant motion. When the woman passed by close to Sue, the two of them ignored each other. Finally, an hour later, a man from the lodge came to pick up their luggage. Thankfully, Angus had also called him. Sue, Maggie and the girls accompanied him in a four-wheel drive, sitting quietly in the back. Colin waited with Angus for the police to arrive.
Drive slowly, Sue thought. Please drive slowly. Her arms and legs trembled.
*
The next morning dawned bright and cold. A plough went by in the distance on the other side of the water, but no cars arrived at the lodge. The only vehicle to turn up was a tow truck that came to haul the Camry into town with Angus and Colin following behind in Little Red.
Pristine snow lay everywhere around the slope behind the lodge and there was scarcely a sound except that of a truck or plough on the highway miles away. Sue picked her way through the snow, breathing in the fresh air. With every breath, she could feel pain in her chest that had increased in the hours since the accident. But Hans had said she would be all right, if not right away, in the not too distant future. He had been attempting to reassure her, she thought, so probably the pain would not last.
When she went back up to the lodge, Sue found Maggie in the kitchen busily putting everything back into boxes. It seemed that while she was not able to hear out of her right ear that otherwise her sister was all right.
“What’re you doing?” Sue asked, trying not to breathe too hard and baffled by her sister’s actions.
“We’re going back as soon as we have this stuff ready. Angus and the kids rented a car.”
“Why?”
“A good question,” Maggie said. “It seems Angus feels that after the accident we wouldn’t enjoy Christmas here. You’re in pain and my face hurts. I can’t hear properly. And maybe more to the point, it sounds as if the storm could get even worse. We don’t want to get trapped here.”
When Angus and the children returned, Sue and Maggie were sitting in the living room. “Are you all right?” Angus asked when he came into the room.
Sue’s face was pale and she was slightly crouched over now. Most of all, she was terrified of ever getting back into a car.
“I want to go back to the ferry docks in the four-wheel drive,” she said.
They all looked at her.
“I was just in a car accident,” she said.
“Me, too,” Maggie said finally, breaking the awkward silence.
So once that was arranged, the owner of the lodge drove the two women while Angus, Colin and the girls drove the rental car and Little Red. They picked Maggie and Sue up at the dock.
On the way up the highway to Nanaimo, they were all quiet. There was almost a collective sigh when the ferry pulled into Horseshoe Bay with its ring of stark rock and trees above them. After that, they all sighed again when they finally parked in the driveway of the house. Angus turned brusquely away from everyone as he walked hurriedly toward the stairs that led to the basement
“I need to watch television or do something mindless,” he said. He was more affected by the accident than he had let on over the past couple of days.
“I’m going out,” Colin said and stomped out the door, slamming it behind him.
Sue could see him walk quickly down to the street and disappear around a bend at the corner. She wanted to shout or scream herself, to let off all the emotion of the last few hours, but she did not. Later, she heard her nephew’s poorly concealed footsteps as she was about to drift off to sleep.
On Christmas Day, Maggie stood at the counter in the kitchen, peeling and chopping. Everyone talked cheerfully and it felt as if nothing had happened. Sue sensed her sister did not want to hear anything more about their aborted trip, and especially not about the pain in Sue’s chest. So Sue stayed as still as she could in an attempt not to exacerbate it.
“Angus,” Sue finally said quietly. “Would you drive me to the emergency at the hospital?”
Maggie looked dubious. “My face is still sore,” she said. “And I can’t hear out of my right ear.”
“I’m sorry,” Sue said. “I’m really sorry.”
Angus was almost through the door and he did not stop when he heard his wife’s words.
“I have to make the dinner,” Maggie said. “So, I can’t come.”
Sue bristled slightly, feeling no one cared if she were in pain. No one cared whether she had broken anything. If Maggie needed a doctor, she ought to ask Angus, or even one of the girls, to take over. Colin could have driven both of them. But no one suggested anything like that and Sue went out the door to the car.
“You can leave me here,” she said when Angus stopped at the hospital entrance. “I’ll call when they’ve seen me.” She waved him away, figuring he could still help out back at the house.
In the waiting room, she picked up a magazine. It was two hours before her name was called and she was directed to a cubicle where she sat on a bed with a white curtain draped around it. Finally, a young female doctor came in.
“What happened?” she asked.
Sue described the accident.
“Ah,” the doctor said. ”A seat belt injury. We see a lot of them.” She said she would not X-ray because the treatment plan would not be any different whether there were broken bones or not.
Sue nodded.
“We can give you some painkillers,” the doctor added. “It may be invisible except for some bruising, but that doesn’t make it any less painful.”
Angus arrived soon after Sue called and by the time they returned to the house the turkey was already out on a platter and someone had made white paper stockings and put them on the drumsticks. The smell of onions and sage stuffing wafted through the entire lower floor.
“Merry Christmas,” Maggie said.
Sue thought of the car almost hanging over the side of a mountain, the woman running around her house ignoring them, the four-wheel drive that seemed safe in a world suddenly more vulnerable.
“Merry Christmas,” she replied.
“The turkey travelled well,” Maggie said.
Yes, Sue thought. As a summary of their adventure, that would do. And while she would like to tell Maggie about Hans and what he had said, that was another story. Had the whole trip been pointless? Perhaps to the island, but certainly not to visit her family. It had been a way of spending the holiday season with them rather than alone. Even the snowstorm was now a shared experience they would likely recall in years to come. They would probably laugh then, even though now they avoided talking about it since clearly it had unnerved all of them.
Sue wondered how Jerry would have reacted to the whole experience. Her face reddened. How could he have kept the existence of a son from her? And even from his closest friend, Martin? Still, not even once had she contemplated telling him about her baby. Nor had she sought to find her. She felt so convoluted that she willed the thoughts away. She would have to face them again soon enough when she arrived back in Toronto.
“I never saw the property,” she said, neve
rtheless relieved, as they all were, to be back in what was a warm, comfortable house rather than in pain and disarray on the island.
5.
THOMAS RIPPED OPEN a slender envelope that had just fallen onto the floor from the mail slot. The return address was now familiar.
What about coming for a visit? Sue had written. Although she had invited Kate also, he had told Sue when he called that he would be coming on his own.
Walking up the front steps, his limbs shook slightly. He thought this silly, as he was not nervous about seeing Sue. He picked up the knocker and let it fall against the plate under it. Sue answered right away, almost as if she had been waiting just inside the door.
“Hello,” he said, feeling more shy than he had when he first met her. “I’ve missed you,” he added quietly. There was a vein in his forehead that throbbed from time to time. His eyes were bloodshot.
“You look thinner,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he said. “Just tired.” There was more work to these university courses than he had expected, he told her. “How about you?” He was surprised at how much time had passed since he had last seen her at the memorial for his father. But he had been preoccupied with Kate and with his courses. Also, he knew Sue had returned to teaching.
“Mostly all right.”
She told him about the accident and that it had taken two months for the pain to disappear entirely. That sometimes, when walking down Bloor Street on a windy day, she still felt tightness in her chest when she breathed.
“I miss Jerry,” she added. “But I’m often angry with him, too.”
“I was angry with my mother after she died,” Thomas said. “You know, how could she do that to me? Leave me alone? Behind? But after a while, I stopped being so mad. She should have told me about my father sooner though. And I’ve been thinking a lot about that.”
“I’ve been angry with Jerry for not being that father.” She brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and backed into the hallway, gesturing for him to follow. In the kitchen, she pulled out stools. They both sat down at the counter.
“Maybe he did what he could.” What else could explain it? He already had the impression of Jerry Reid as someone who would have found it difficult to conceal his own son’s existence for all these years.
“If he’d ever let himself meet you, there would have been worlds more he could have done. He likely knew that.”
She did like to go on and on, Thomas thought. This might be part of why he had taken so long to make contact again. It was tiring. He was grateful for her unexpected friendship, but he could not deal with the feelings that often seemed to pour out in his presence. He had enough of his own to deal with. Still, he and Kate wanted her in their lives. He also intended to visit Martin.
“Kate and I are getting married in June,” Thomas said.
The worried lines on her face evaporated as a smile softened her features. “I’m happy for you,” she said.
“We’d like you to be there.” And he told her that he was sorry he had not been in touch sooner. “Time passes so quickly. My mother used to say that and I’m beginning to understand why with so much going on all the time.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s been like that since I returned to teaching.”
“You’ll be my only family member at the wedding other than Florence.” He did not add she was related to him only through Jerry. He did not need to.
“I’m going to invite Martin and Emily, too,” he said.
“Of course.”
She did not look particularly pleased, but he decided to ignore that. “Next time I come to the city, I’ll bring Kate.”
“Will she like me, do you think?” The smile gave way to a doubtful look.
“What’s not to like?”
“Well, we’ll hope that whatever there is not to like, she won’t notice.” Sue’s face relaxed again.
“She said something like that, too.” That was Kate, wanting to make a good impression on his relatives, as if Sue had been in his life for a long time.
“Where is the wedding?” Sue asked.
“Stratford,” Thomas said. “Kate’s family all live there. I think I told you I’ve known her since high school. Now we’re both at Western.”
“Where will I sit?”
“On my side,” he said. “Where else? Close to the front.” He would leave his mother’s place empty. “You would have liked her,” he said.
Thomas thought she looked unsure about that. Or was it his father she was having doubts about again?
“Jerry took me to see plays in Stratford,” she said, disbelief ringing in her intonation. “He didn’t even try to see you then. Do you suppose he never told me because he was afraid that I’d try to convince him to?”
“I don’t know. How would I know?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I scarcely realized I was talking out loud. Will Florence be at the wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s have coffee,” she said.
Thomas stood up.
“Oh, don’t rush off,” she said.
“Just looking for something.” He emptied one of his pockets.
She moved to plug in the kettle. “Do you mind instant today?”
Thomas shrugged and smiled. It made no difference to him. He handed her a small folder of photographs of him with his mother. He liked that she seemed to want to know him. She was a bit like an aunt. Maybe his relationship with Jerry would have been similar, like finding a long-lost uncle.
“Thanks,” Sue said as she began to go through the folder.
“Do you mind if I give Kate a call?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she said. “Go ahead.”
*
There was a photograph of a white calla lily on a card on the shelf that caught Sue’s eye. Any distraction from marking papers was welcome. Florence had sent the card after the memorial to thank Sue for making arrangements for her stay at the bed and breakfast and for brunch the day after with Thomas, Emily, and Martin. Sue wondered why she had not thought of going to visit Florence until seeing this card again. It would be better if she could go before the wedding, she thought, and decided to call her.
“I wondered if I might visit,” she said to Florence after they chatted for a while.
“Oh yes, my dear. I’d be delighted,” Florence said.
“Are there any bed and breakfasts nearby?”
“I wouldn’t hear of it,” the older woman replied firmly.
So, with spring on the verge of arriving, Sue drove to Blenheim, a small town near Lake Erie on a weekend. Not long before Florence’s husband died, they had moved from their farm into a modest brick-and-vinyl bungalow across the street from the local swimming pool. The room where Sue was to sleep had a bright, patchwork quilt on the bed and a pine rocking chair in the corner. The window overlooked a backyard with a wooden swing. On the walls were black-and-white photographs of people in clothing Sue thought was from the twenties.
“That’s Jerry’s mother and my mother,” Florence said, pointing at two women with their arms around each other. “Sisters. Jerry and I were first cousins.”
Her mother had been the oldest in a family of eight, and his mother had been the youngest; hence, the age difference between Florence and Jerry.
“Did Jerry ever tell you about Thomas?” Sue could not wait any longer. There was utter silence behind her and she turned to find Florence standing awkwardly beside the door. She acted as if Sue had not spoken. Maybe she was slightly deaf, Sue thought, so she cleared her throat.
Florence looked at her and Sue could tell by her eyes that the older woman had heard. Her throat tightened. She had taken advantage of this kind woman only to put her in an unpleasant situation.
“You know, dear,” Florence said. “I am a little weary. Perhap
s we could have a cup of tea and I could rest for an hour. You must be tired, too, after all that driving. We can talk about things later. Whatever things you came to talk about.”
“Thank you,” Sue said quietly.
While Florence rested, Sue closed her eyes for a while. Then, she studied the photographs in a copy of the National Geographic she had brought with her. When Florence came for her, they went for a slow walk out onto the road. The older woman held onto her arm for balance. Florence knew everyone they encountered on the main street that ran through the town. Since there were only four or five thousand inhabitants, Sue thought that was not surprising. It was similar to her own childhood experience in a small community, except that no one spoke French here and the land was so flat it seemed like the prairies. Not reminiscent of the rocks, bush, and water where in the fall, when the leaves were a brilliant gold and crimson, she and her mother had driven out on tiny dirt roads to shoot partridge.
Early in the morning, Mum would tap on her bedroom door.
“Sue,” she’d whisper. “Time to get up.”
Sue remembered the old Nash, two tones with dark blue around the body and light blue on top. She had learned to drive in that car. Around and around the block. Sixty times. Seventy-eight times. She had also practised on the road to the lake, where if you had encountered another car, it was always a surprise. One had yielded then and backed up until the other could squeeze by, the road had been that narrow.
“Jerry used to come and visit here,” Florence said. “He slept in the room you’re in. Not often, but especially after he learned about the pregnancy. That was long before he met you. Later, he sent money through me and I always saw it got to Thomas’s mother.” She also had visited with Thomas when he was a boy, and, more recently before his mother died.
“Did you ever tell Jerry about him?”
“Oh yes, of course, my dear. He called every month or two to ask questions.”
“Why did I never hear about this? Why didn’t I know?”
“Maybe Jerry was afraid you wouldn’t accept what he had done.”
Would I Lie to You Page 17
