The Daughters' Story

by Cyr, Murielle;

  Serge chose a corner booth at the end of the small diner and signalled to the waitress to bring coffee. Lisette slid her belly across the table from him and watched him crack his knuckles. “What’s this all about? Pit’s getting paranoid. All that toking up is warping whatever brain he’s got?”

  He lifted his gaze. “Pit’s OK, but he doesn’t take prisoners. Attack him and he won’t give up till you’re down. Pushing him against the wall like you did wasn’t a good move on your part.”

  “So he figures I’d squeal on you guys? That’s sick! In any case, I never know what you guys are up to. What’s to squeal about?”

  He looked away. “There’s been a lot of talk about infiltrators. The cops know too much, too often.”

  “And what—” A tightening in her chest made her pause. “What do you think about all that?”

  He waited until the waitress had placed the coffee in front of them and walked away. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense. Sylvie and Pit can’t figure out why I’m the target and not them.”

  She let out a soft sigh. If Serge had shared Pit’s suspicions, it would’ve meant the end of them as a couple. Trust was a vital part of what they had together. But the way he kept on pulling at and bending his fingers, there had to be something else he wasn’t telling her. “Nobody knows for sure. They might be on the radar without even knowing. Sylvie’s too busy fussing with her hair and adjusting her sunglasses every two minutes to notice what’s happening around her. And Pit... well... being the center of attention is what he expects. Someone watching his every move is an everyday thing for him.”

  He grimaced. “They’re kind of special alright… but I know a softer side of them than what you see. Pit has always been different, always caught in some scrap when we were in school. I’d be there for him each time. He was the kid brother I never had. I think Sylvie is attracted to the neediness in him. He depends on her for everything. I know you resent the fact that she’s had it easy all her life. But it isn’t her fault her parents are well off. She got everything she asked for growing up, but her parents were never around. And both of them are real loyal to the cause. Pit can sure get a crowd all riled up and Sylvie’s great with large group activities. She can organize a sit-in or a march in the bat of an eye.”

  “Loyal… it’s not how you’d describe me… not after this morning. But something else is bugging you, right? Whatever it is, spit it out.”

  He pressed his palms flat on the table. “You might not be as passionate as they are about what we’re doing, but you’re loyal to what you believe in. That makes you strong and I love that in you. Sylvie and Pit, though, aren’t convinced you’re on our side. They don’t think you bring much to the table.”

  She sipped her coffee and stared at him from over the top of her glasses. “Looks like you guys have been discussing me. You know I go to all the demonstrations and wave all their banners and posters around. Sometimes I might not agree with what’s going on. That doesn’t mean I don’t believe in the cause.”

  He pressed his hands together and gazed down at the table.

  “You haven’t even touched your coffee. If something’s up, Serge, you better come out with it.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “What you said to them before sure didn’t help. There’s no easy way to say this, but… they figure it’d be better if you lived somewhere else.” He leaned back on the bench, biting down on his lip. “By the end of the week… if possible. They’re real paranoid about being busted.”

  She straightened, her look incredulous. “You mean... move out? Because of the baby? At least they’re right about that. It’ll be a lot more crowded in there when the baby comes.” Why had he hesitated to tell her this? He wasn’t giving her the whole picture.

  “It’s not about the baby.” He fidgeted in his seat. “Sylvie sort of likes the idea of having a kid crawling around.”

  “Can’t see Pit going for that or anything else that has to do with me.” She and Pit had never hit it off. “Hey! Don’t look so down. It’s not a problem. They’re actually on my side for once. I’ve been wanting us to get our own place for a while now. So what’s the big—” She fixed her eyes on his. Something in the way he was staring at her made her pause. “You’re not in any trouble, are you? You didn’t order a big breakfast like you always do. And your coffee must be stone cold by now. What’s going on?”

  “I can’t take any chances, Lise. I can’t sleep nights thinking about it.” He twisted his mug back and forth. “I spotted that car trailing me again last night. I’m sure the cops have been watching us for a while now. They haven’t moved in on us because they think we can lead them to Laporte. Nothing’s stopping them now that’s he’s dead. They’re on the warpath. There’s a massive manhunt for FLQ members. They’ll haul in anybody who they think might know something.”

  “What’s that got to do with me moving out?”

  “Don’t you see?” He tugged at his hair. “If they bust down our door, they’ll haul all of us in. I won’t let them throw you behind bars. What if the baby comes early? They’d probably grill you while you’re giving birth. We have to find you a safe place where they won’t find you. And we’ve got to stay away from each other... at least till the dust settles.”

  Her breathing stopped for a split second and she tightened the grip on her coffee mug. He too wanted her to move out. On her own. Was this his way of breaking up with her? Where did he expect her to go? Eight months pregnant. No steady job. No money. He was the father of their child—they were a family. “So... it isn’t only Sylvie and Pit who want me out.” She felt a stirring in her belly. He had let her down—like everybody else before him.

  “I’ll work more hours. I’ll help you out.” He reached out to grab her hand. “It’s too dangerous for you and the baby. I’ll help you find a place.”

  “So come with me. We’ll lay low together. If you disappear for a while, whoever’s following you will forget about you.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t just drop out of the action like that. We have to keep on resisting. Our support is needed even more now that the cops have stepped up their search. You’re asking me to give up my soul. Louis Riel said it all just before his English oppressors executed—”

  “Stop.” She raised her hand in protest, her voice cracking. “No need to quote him. Your poster is the first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning. His words are etched in my brain like blood on a wool blanket: ‘I have nothing but my heart and I have given it long ago to my country.’ Spare me the drama. If you’re breaking up with me, leave me a bit of dignity.”

  “Keep it down. People are staring at us.” He lowered his gaze and shoved the sugar container back in place beside the salt and pepper. “That’s what I’m all about, Lise.” His voice low, insistent. “You knew it when you moved in with me.”

  “Look what it got Riel, eh? The guy devoted his life to Métis rights and what did it get him? The English hung him by the neck and in the end, nothing changed for his people. I get it—politics comes before me and your child. Have you thought about who’s going to rent to me in my condition—and with no job to back me up? I’ve got no place to run to. I know you gave your heart away, but what about your sense of responsibility?” The smell of her coffee made her nauseous and she swallowed hard to block the tears from falling. Why was he doing this to her? They were a family. She had never trusted anyone like she did him.

  “This isn’t a breakup. We’ll be back together in no time. You know I’ve got to see this thing through. And I’m scared as hell the cops will pick you up. We can’t be seen together, not until it’s safer. I promise we’ll look for a place together. I wish we had located your mother, I’m sure she’d want to help, especially when she finds out about that unclaimed amount I told you about.”

  “Is that why you’ve been so helpful about searching for her? You figured it was a convenient solutio
n—dumping me with a complete stranger.”

  “I don’t believe I’m hearing this crap. I’ve been helping because it’s important to you. And yes, I think it’d be a damn good idea if you met her and she turned out OK. We’d need furniture if you rented and you know we can’t afford it. It will only be for a few months while all this shit is going on. All you need is a room. Somewhere safe for you and the baby right now.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. He wasn’t breaking up with her after all. “Maybe you’re right, Serge. Check in that database for anything on my mother’s uncles. Maybe you can come up with something. I’m not very hopeful, but you never know.”

  “It’s our only safe option right now. If your mother doesn’t help, you’ll know she’s not worth seeing again. We’ll have to figure something else out.” He paused to wipe a hand over his eyes and looked away. “You know I can’t afford to pay for two rents, but I’ll work double shifts. We’ll be a family soon. I promise.”

  The intensity in his voice and the tears she had seen him wipe away quelled the turmoil in her chest. She had reacted too quickly. He was right about her being at risk. He was only looking out for her and the baby—being a family man after all. A temporary breakup, for the good of all.

  In any case, he was right about her mother. She owed her at least this. It was time she found out what the woman was all about. If she refused to help, she’d know where she stood with her.

  Chapter 10

  Lisette rang the buzzer a second time and checked her watch. The residence was supposed to be open for visitors at this hour. She had woken up early and tiptoed around the apartment so as not to wake anybody up. Both Serge and Pit had come home late from work the night before. Nothing had been said about yesterday’s argument. Crossing each other in the hallway that evening before he went off to the bar, she and Pit had nodded at each other as if they were strangers. There were no words left to be said. They wanted her out. She wasn’t a good fit. She’d shove her belongings into garbage bags and find another place to stay. That’s how it had always been with her.

  Sylvie had come to sit beside her on the sofa after Pit left. Lisette had closed her textbook, thinking she probably wanted to watch TV.

  “I don’t want to disturb what you’re doing, Lisette. I’m working on my school project too, but I wanted to talk to you before you went to bed.”

  “You didn’t go watch Pit’s gig?”

  “Not this time. He’s playing at some dive in the east end. The toilets there are disgusting.” She flinched. “I always feel like I’ve just been attacked by millions of tiny crabs when I sit on the bowl.”

  Lisette laughed. “I never sit down. I’d rather squat.”

  “It can’t be easy for you to do that nowadays.”

  “You’re right about that. Even using toilet paper is a challenge with this big belly.”

  Sylvie reached down behind the couch, pulled out a shopping bag, and placed it beside Lisette. “Here. A little something for the baby.”

  “Really? You didn’t have to do that, but it’s sure nice of you.” She glanced at the bag. “And from Ogilvy’s too. This must have cost you a few bucks.”

  Sylvie shrugged. “What the heck. My mother gives me a good allowance.”

  Lisette opened the bag and pulled out four pairs of baby pyjamas, two white and the other two bright blue. “Thanks, Sylvie. It’s very generous of you. Especially after what happened yesterday.”

  “Pit chose the colours. He thought they looked patriotic.”

  Lisette looked up. “He did? I’m… surprised he’d even bother.”

  Sylvie stretched her arms out and yawned. “I have to get back to my project.” She hesitated, her eyes pensive. “Pit might talk big, but he’s really just a softie. He never says anything bad about you behind your back, but when you two get together, sparks fly. He’s just as worried about you getting busted as Serge is.”

  Lisette pressed her lips together. She had misjudged them both. “I never… thought of him like that. Maybe I can… tell him I’m sorry. I was a little patronizing with him.”

  Sylvie grimaced. “You can try, but don’t expect him to apologize back. His parents were drunk half the time, so he grew up dodging punches at home and on the street. You never apologize where he comes from—once a fight is over, you just get ready for the next one.” She made a beeline for her bedroom. “I need to get back to my work or I’ll never finish.”

  Lisette rang the buzzer again. It had taken her a long bus and metro ride to get here. Two unfinished term papers were waiting for her at home. She was about to head back to the bus stop when the receptionist hurried out of the office and rushed to open the glass door.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She forced a smile. “Quite a coincidence. I was just on the phone with Mr. Pritchart. I had no way of contacting you, so it’s a good thing you came by. I called him about your request for his phone number. He’s left a message for you. Come with me and I’ll give it to you.”

  Lisette followed the woman into the office. Good news at last. She’d have someone else besides Stella to help her with the search.

  The receptionist tore off a yellow slip from her message pad and handed it to her. “He left you his lawyer’s number.”

  “His lawyer?” She scanned the message “What for?”

  The woman sat down at her desk. “He also gave strict orders not to allow you to visit his mother without his presence.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Her body tensed. “He can’t do that. She’s my great-grandmother. I can visit her whenever I want to.”

  “Peter Pritchart is her legal guardian. He has the authority to make any decisions about her financial and her personal welfare. He feels your visits might worsen her heart condition.”

  A wave of heat surged up her neck. “She seemed happy enough to see me last Friday. It didn’t look like she needed to have someone make decisions for her.”

  “It might seem that way at times. The residents have good days and bad ones. The odd visit won’t give you the whole picture.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “The poor dears put on a brave show of smiling and pretending they know who you are. You’ll never hear them mention your name until you say it first. All that effort it takes to pretend they’re on top of things drains them of all their energy.” She skimmed the open file in front of her. “Mrs. White noted that Mrs. Pritchart had to rest right after your visit and she refused to eat her supper.”

  “She seemed a little excited about seeing me, but that was about it.”

  “That’s because you don’t know her situation.” The woman closed her file and lifted her gaze. “Her son doesn’t want his mother too stimulated. If you want to discuss this further, please call his lawyer.”

  Lisette bit her lip and shifted from foot to foot. This uncle sounded a little too controlling for her liking, but then, Grandpa Pritchart hadn’t seemed any better. There had been no problem during Friday’s visit. Grandma Stella had appeared a little tired at the end but that was to be expected. That didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to come back and visit her. She pulled her shoulders back. If they were going to refuse to buzz her in next time she came, she may as well see her now.

  “I promised her I’d come back today. Since I’m here, I’ll just pop in to say hi. You don’t want to disappoint her, do you?” She turned on her heel before the woman had time to react and headed towards the lounge. “I won’t be long.”

  Lisette heard the receptionist call out to her. She continued down the hallway without looking back.

  Grandma Stella sat in the same armchair, a thick wool sweater wrapped around her shoulders and a blanket covering her lap.

  “You feeling OK, Grandma?” Lisette hung her jacket on the back of the armchair opposite from her and sat down.

  Stella beamed at her. “You came back, dear. I thought you’d stay aw
ay after I bored you silly last time.” She tugged her sweater closer. “I have the chills this morning. I get like that when I don’t get much sleep—it happens a lot even with those pills they give me. I’ll just have to rest after lunch.”

  “You didn’t bore me.” She glanced back over her shoulder to see if the receptionist had followed and reached into her bag for her notebook. “That’s why I’m here. Now that I’ve discovered I have a family, I want to learn a bit more about them. I can’t stay long, though. I don’t want to tire you.”

  She reached over to pat Lisette’s knee. “Quite the opposite, dear. The residents here might seem tired and a bit depressed to you. It looks like it’s always autumn here. Not because of the service. We’re all well-fed and kept safe like baby chicks in their nest. Not having any contact with anybody outside of here is what gets us. Sometimes the family visits, but they can hardly wait to leave as soon as they set foot in here. You can’t blame them. Being here reminds them of how they’ll end up one day.” She smoothed out the wrinkles in her blanket and raised her head. “Bless you for coming, dear. Talking about old things with you might’ve tired me out, but it’s the same as being sick. You feel like you’re going to die, but once you’ve heaved it all out, you feel great again. It had to come out. My family means well. They never talk about things that might upset me. But burying something doesn’t stop it from hurting. You don’t see it, but the spirit of what you buried still lives on.” She fell silent and stared down at her lap.

  “We don’t have to talk about sad things, Grandma. Some things must’ve made you laugh over the years.”