Walking the Labyrinth

by Hart, Lois Cloarec

  “Jill? What’s the matter, sweetie?”

  Jill sucked in a deep breath and reached for her daughter. “She hasn’t changed a bit, Mom. Not one stinking bit. She’s still the same b—”

  “Jill!”

  “Sorry, Mom. Look, Emmy G and I have to get going. Give me a call after Heather Ann leaves, okay?”

  Gaëlle watched her daughter and granddaughter hurry down the stairs. She thrust her hands deep into her pockets as the truck flew down the driveway.

  “Gaëlle? Are you okay?”

  Gaëlle tried to smile at Lee. “I’d just hoped after all these years that things would be different.”

  “Sibling rivalry?”

  “More like soul rivalry.”

  Before Lee could inquire further, Gaëlle left the porch and took the same path she’d taken early that morning.

  “Huh. I wonder what that was all about.”

  Chapter 5

  Shortly after Jill’s departure, Lee sat on her corner chair on the porch. She listened to snippets of conversation as Britten’s friends poured out of the house and started loading children into their vehicles.

  “Can you believe what she said? Poor Britten had to put up with that abuse all her life. No wonder she hasn’t been back in since forever.”

  “I dunno, Tiff. I thought Jill had a point. If I’d ever treated my mom the way Britten treats hers, my dad would’ve tarred and feathered me.”

  “Yeah, but Brit doesn’t have a dad. She’s never had a dad. I think that explains so much.”

  “Jill didn’t have her dad for long, either. She was only about seven when he died.”

  “Pam, why are you sticking up for her? Jill was just mean; she’s always been mean to Brit. I remember in school when Jill stole Bobby away from Britten. I mean, how low can you get?”

  “Uh-huh. Given that Jill and Bobby have been married for at least fifteen years, I don’t think she exactly stole Bobby from Britten. Looked to me like Bobby was more than willing to swap one sister for the other.”

  “Well, I think Jill’s just jealous. Britten got the looks, the glamorous career, the fabulously wealthy husband...”

  Lee groaned inwardly, wondering exactly what Britten had told her friends about Saberi and also whether she had cautioned them not to post anything. The homecoming of a “glamorous” model was just the sort of news her old friends would be eager to spread around.

  “I don’t think Jill’s jealous. My sister went to school with her, and she told me Jill was always far more popular than Britten. If anything, Britten was the tagalong.”

  “Hah. That was then; this is now. Jill should be jealous. What’s she got in her life?”

  “Gee, I don’t know, Tiff. Husband, kids, job...kind of like the rest of us.”

  Lee snickered as doors slammed in near unison. Obviously, Pam’s assessment was not universally appreciated. When the last of the vehicles had driven away, Lee went back inside.

  “Aw, for crying out loud.”

  The living room was a disaster zone, and from what Lee could see, the kitchen wasn’t much better. Britten was nowhere in sight. Lee shook her head in disgust and started cleaning up. “I’m telling Willem to add a surcharge to Britten’s bill for cleaning and valet services. This is bloody ridiculous.”

  Lee had worked her way out to the kitchen by the time she saw Gaëlle returning from the fields behind the house. She stopped to watch her hostess. The look of fatigue on Gaëlle’s face made Lee glad that she hadn’t left the mess untouched.

  Gaëlle entered the house through the kitchen door and stopped short as she saw the number of garbage bags Lee had filled and stacked in a corner. “Oh no, Lee. I’m so sorry. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of helping out. After all, you’re kind enough to offer hospitality; this is the least I can do.”

  “No, it’s the least my daughter could do.” Gaëlle shook her head as she gathered up dirty cups. “But I don’t feel like fighting that battle again at the moment, so let me help, and then I’ll get dinner started. Do you have any dietary restrictions?”

  Lee chuckled. “Only those I imposed on myself this past year, and thankfully I’m well rid of them now. Anything you make would be appreciated. If I can help with dinner, I’d like to do so.”

  Gaëlle stopped loading the dishwasher and smiled at Lee. “If I hadn’t known it before, I’d have no doubt that you’re not one of Britten’s set.”

  “I dunno. That Pam seemed pretty level-headed.”

  “True. Pam was always the one of Britten’s friends I liked best.”

  “Did Britten like her best, too?”

  “Sadly, no. Pam did not worship sufficiently.”

  Lee grimaced. The state of affairs between mother and daughter was frosty to say the least. She wondered if Gaëlle even liked her daughter.

  “I love my daughter very much, but I recognize that she’s a young soul. Sometimes I’m not sure I have the energy left to do the nurturing required. But I remind myself that we chose each other for a reason. I am very glad she came home, no matter how long she stays.”

  Lee was startled that Gaëlle had appeared to read her mind.

  A loud clatter sounded from the second floor.

  Lee dropped the garbage bag and bolted for the stairs. Within seconds, she threw open Britten’s door, conscious that Gaëlle was right behind her. As Lee slipped inside, her eyes scanning the room for danger, she instinctively threw up an arm to block Gaëlle’s entry.

  Britten was sitting on her bed, sobbing. Pieces of a broken lamp lay near the far wall.

  Taking a deep breath, Lee calmed herself.

  Gaëlle peered under Lee’s arm and took in the situation. “Are you all right?”

  “I hate Jill! She ruins everything!”

  Before Gaëlle could say anything further, Lee gently pushed her back into the hallway. In a low voice, she said, “Why don’t you leave this to me? I need to talk to Britten anyway.”

  Gaëlle regarded her with a troubled expression.

  “Please. Trust me?”

  Gaëlle nodded. “All right. Call me if you need me; I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Lee returned to the bedroom and closed the door. She took a seat beside Britten, careful to leave some space between them. “Want to talk about it?”

  “No!”

  Lee smiled inwardly. This was how some of her most insightful conversations with a teenaged Eli had begun. She waited silently, not surprised when Britten burst forth with a litany of complaints, many dating back to childhood years.

  “...and Mom always loved Jill best. Just because I wouldn’t go walk the stupid labyrinth with her and Jill would. Jill’s such a suck-up. Now she’s given Mom grandchildren, and I—”

  Britten broke off in a torrent of renewed sobs, and Lee tried to puzzle out what she’d heard. She understood complaints about borrowed clothes not returned; homework supposedly sabotaged; Jill flaunting her athleticism; Jill who was stuck-up about being valedictorian; Jill who stole her boyfriend, then married him; the perceived unequal allotment of their mother’s time and love; even the advantage of providing grandchildren; but she was completely lost with Britten’s penultimate complaint.

  Lee handed Britten some tissues. “Back up a little, will you? What do you mean ‘walking the stupid labyrinth’?”

  Britten blew her nose fiercely. “When we were little, Mom built this dumb labyrinth in the field next to the old barn. First it was just a design she tramped down in the summer grass, but then she made it so it was four seasons. Jill and Dale helped her, but it just bored me. I mean, what was the point? Jill and Dale would walk it with Mom some mornings, but I’d much rather sleep in. It was a huge relief when Mom stopped inviting me, but I know Jill used that time to fill Mom’s head with bullshit about me. It made Mom much harder on me than on Jill. It still makes me mad. And Jill hasn’t changed one bit. We were having a perfectly nice time this afternoon, and she had to come in and ruin it.”


  “How’d she do that?”

  “Jill started ragging on me about not coming home years ago. Says I put Mom through hell. Like Mom even knows I’m gone. She’s so damned wrapped up in her own world anyway. Well, I just told Jill that, unlike some people, I had a life—a busy, hectic, demanding life, and if she couldn’t deal with that, then she could just shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

  “I’m guessing that didn’t go over well.”

  “She got all pissy. She slammed me in front of my friends, so I told her to get the hell out of there. I told her as far as I was concerned, she was no sister of mine and if I never saw her again, it would be too soon for me!”

  “Okay, I get all that. So how did the lamp end up in a hundred pieces?”

  “I was just so mad. This is all Michael’s fault. If he hadn’t been such an asshole, I wouldn’t be here now; I’d be in Milan for the unveiling of the fall line-up. Arturo said I’d be perfect for a pre-fall, inter-seasonal show this spring. He’d have used me last year, but Michael didn’t want me working. And I don’t care what my stupid ex-agent said, an Arturo promise means something in the biz. I know it’s not haute couture, but I was bored with that anyway. I’d much rather work with Arturo. His line is far more avant-garde than the major houses. He’s going to be bigger than Dior and Versace combined some day.”

  “Okay, I understand that you’re angry at Jill—”

  “And Michael!”

  “And Michael and pretty much the whole world right now—”

  “Why does everything have to be so hard? Nothing ever goes right for me. Nothing ever has.”

  Britten’s whining was suddenly too much for Lee to stomach. “I get it. Life sucks. Well, guess what. You’re no different from anyone else, and it’s damned well about time you realized that. Stop leaving your messes for someone else to clean up. Stop having temper tantrums and breaking innocent, immoveable objects. You’re thirty-one—”

  “Twenty-seven!” Britten snapped.

  “Thirty-one...almost thirty-two, so grow the hell up. Yes, you’ve had a blip in your charmed life. I hate to break this to you, but no one gets everything they want; no one’s life runs exactly according to plan. Stop wallowing in misery and get on with figuring out what you want from here on out. Once you’ve got that figured out, decide how you’re going to go about getting it. But for God’s sake, just stop and think about someone besides yourself for once!” Lee stood up and stalked toward the door.

  “What do you know? I had it all! I was a star in Paris, New York, and Milan. Men fell at my feet every night. They’d give me anything I wanted, just so they could show up with me on their arms. I went to the best parties, drank the most expensive champagne, wore nothing but designer clothes. I flew all over the world in private jets. Now I’m stuck in Dogsville, and some two bit security hack thinks she can lecture me? What have you ever lost, bitch?”

  “More than you could ever imagine.”

  As Lee closed the bedroom door behind her, something distinctly breakable crashed against it.

  Note to self, tell Willem to add a surcharge to the surcharge, this time for replacing our hostess’ broken bric-a-brac.

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Britten didn’t come down, despite Gaëlle’s efforts.

  The third time Gaëlle returned from her fruitless trip upstairs, Lee said, “I’m sorry. I usually handle things much better than I did. I’m afraid I wasn’t very diplomatic. Frankly, I’m surprised she hasn’t fired me.”

  “Did you speak the truth to her?”

  “As I saw it, yes.”

  “Then you have nothing to apologize for.”

  “I could’ve spoken it more gently.”

  Gaëlle shook her head and pushed the blueberry pie across the table. “If there’s anything I remember about raising Britten, it’s that subtlety never worked.”

  “What did?”

  “Firmness, clarity; the usual tools. But she’s an adult now and responsible for her own choices, including her emotional choices. She can wallow in misery, if she wishes, or she can adapt and find a way to enjoy her circumstances, even if they’re not what she’d have wished for.”

  “Do you think she’d have come home eventually if this problem with her husband hadn’t—”

  “Husband? Heather Ann is married?”

  “Um, yes. She didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  There was a world of pain packed into that syllable, and Lee didn’t know how to respond. “Damn, I’m sorry.”

  Gaëlle swallowed several times before responding, “Don’t be. My daughter has been ultra-secretive with me for as long as I can remember. I’ve often wondered...”

  Lee waited out the long pause, then pressed gently. “What, Gaëlle? What have you wondered?”

  Gaëlle looked at Lee sadly. “It shames me.”

  “I won’t judge.”

  “I’ve often wondered if subconsciously I blamed my infant daughter for Hugh’s and Owen’s deaths. I know it wasn’t her fault. I know that. Everything I’ve learned since the accident tells me that. But if, in those early months of grief and despair, I did blame her, maybe she picked up on that, even as a little girl. She was not an easy child to love, though I tried desperately to love all my children equally.”

  “Why would you blame Britten? Wasn’t it a car accident?”

  Gaëlle shook her head. “It’s a long story.”

  “So I’ll put on another pot of coffee.”

  Lee busied herself with making coffee as Gaëlle began her story.

  “I have to back up a little. Hugh and I met at university. I know it’s a cliché, but we were crazy about each other from the moment we met. I’d never met anyone with such a zest for life. It’s as if Hugh was driven to live life on fast forward. With hindsight, that makes sense to me, but at the time... Well, let’s just say my parents were less than pleased when I dropped out along with Hugh so that we could travel the world together. We had no plans and very little money. We went hungry many times, basically going where our hearts directed, but I’ve never regretted it for a moment.”

  Lee understood. She wouldn’t have traded a single day with Dana, not even the times when news of Dana’s medical setbacks plunged them into despair.

  “When we came back to Canada and I was pregnant with Owen, my father was furious. When all was said and done, Hugh was a farm boy. That was not in Dad’s plans for me at all, so they washed their hands of us and showed me the door. It hurt, but Hugh’s family welcomed me with open arms. We got married immediately and moved into Hugh’s great-grandfather’s home. He started working with his older brothers in the family cattle business, and we began to raise our family.”

  “Sounds quite bucolic.”

  “It was, for many years. After Owen, we had Dale and Jill and thought we were done. Britten was a surprise, but we welcomed her too. Hugh joked that now we had a nicely balanced family—two of each. But even then I think he knew his time was running short. Owen’s too.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because after the accident, I found out Hugh had taken out huge life insurance policies shortly after we found out I was pregnant with Britten. He must’ve had to struggle to meet the payments, but he never mentioned a word about them. Hugh was such a hard worker, and he was always taking on odd jobs to bring in extra income, even though the cattle business was pretty lucrative. He also worked like a fiend to update our home. I kept telling him to slow down, that we had lots of time to get things done, but he’d only laugh and keep doing whatever he was doing.”

  “He wanted to take care of you.”

  “Yes, that was Hugh’s way.”

  “You said that he knew Owen’s time was running out as well?”

  “No, I didn’t mean Hugh knew; I meant Owen did.”

  “How so?”

  “The day before the accident, Owen came to me while I was nursing Britten. Owen was a loving boy, but not demonstrative. He was more of a show than
tell sort of son. But he settled in at my feet and started to talk. I confess I only half-listened, because Britten was fussing, as usual. She’d had croup for weeks, and we were all exhausted, but I remember thinking later that Owen sounded like someone two decades older.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He spoke of all the people he loved: me, his dad, his siblings, his grandmother, and his favourite cousin, Matty. He talked about school and his beloved math teacher, about hockey and how much he was looking forward to the weekend tournament. I remember I started to hum My Favourite Things, and he looked up at me and laughed. Then he said, ‘Life is good, isn’t it, Mom?’ and he wandered off. A little while later, I heard him and Dale playing cards in the kitchen, and everything seemed normal.”

  “Maybe he did have a touch of precognition that day.”

  “It wasn’t just that day. Normally, we all went to the boys’ hockey tournaments. We’d make a family outing of it and have dinner at a restaurant, which was a big deal for us back then. But with Britten so sick, I told Hugh to take the boys and leave me at home. Fortunately, Jill had a cousin’s birthday party on Saturday, so she had a sleepover at her Aunt Maggie’s on Friday night. Because I wasn’t going along, the boys fought over who got to ride shotgun in the front seat. Dale won a coin toss, but when it came time to leave at five a.m., Owen insisted that he get the front seat by virtue of his sibling seniority. Dale was terribly angry, especially when his dad didn’t overrule Owen, because Hugh was always scrupulously fair with the boys. Banished to the back seat, Dale lay down and decided to sleep until they got to Saskatoon.”

  “And that saved his life?”

  “That, and something else Owen did. Back then we had seatbelts in the old station wagon, but we rarely used them. But, as Dale told me later, about five minutes before the accident, Owen woke him up and told him to put his seatbelt on. He was so mad at his brother that he wasn’t going to do it, but Hugh backed Owen up. Plus Dale said there was something in Owen’s eyes that told him not to mess with his big brother. So he put on his seatbelt, and that did save his life.”