“Why?”
Dot looked towards the window where Ray was bent over the bike.
“I love the crazy old fool,” she said simply. “He drives me insane and there are times I can’t stand the sight of him, but I do love him.”
“And that’s enough?”
“It is.”
Maggie sighed heavily.
“What’s on your mind love?” her mother asked, concerned. “Is everything ok?”
“Oh nothing, nothing at all. I’m fine.”
“Is it because of Jack? Has he got you thinking this way?”
“Of course not. Don’t talk crazy.” Maggie sat back up straight again and scowled at her mother. “I don’t know why you would even mention him.”
“Sorry love,” her mother soothed, but secretly she was thinking that she’d struck a nerve.
Maggie checked her watch, “I better go,” she said. “I want to get some Christmas wrapping paper before the shop shuts. People will be asking me to gift wrap their purchases soon.”
She scowled again as she headed for the door.
“Do try and capture some Christmas spirit,” her mother called after her. “For Willow’s sake at least.”
She watched her daughter leave, then went and poured some more hot water over her tea bag. She knew this time of year was always a little hard on Maggie, but this year she seemed to be taking it particularly hard.
Jon had left at Christmas; two days before the big day to be precise. He had just upped and gone into the night after an argument according to Maggie, and no one had seen him nor heard from him since. Dot knew that Maggie blamed herself to a degree. From the little she’d told her parents, things hadn’t been quite right between them for some time. They’d been arguing a lot, mostly about Jon’s footloose and fancy free ways. He thought nothing of taking off hunting with friends for weeks at a time, emerging from the mountains filthy and hairy and triumphantly showing off whatever he’d killed as if he expected Maggie to be grateful.
Dot shook off her melancholy. She had wasted enough time thinking of the man who had hurt her daughter. She breathed in deep and then let it out in one long exhale. The air that exited her lungs was tinged blue with disappointment, grey with regret and with red flecks of anger. Heaving with the dark emotions it sank slowly to the floorboards. Dot picked up a broom from the corner and swept it out the back door.
“Be gone with you,” she said, as she closed the door on it. “This is a joyous time of year and I will not let that man ruin another Christmas for this family.” She went to the cupboard and pulled out the ingredients to bake another Christmas cake, even though she had already prepared two. Soon, the house would be filled with the merry smells of fruit and liquor and almond icing. That would perk Maggie up for sure.
Driving into town, Maggie blinked back tears as she also reflected on the past. Damn that man for tainting this time of the year for her. She could remember a time when she loved Christmas, when it was her favourite time of the year. But he’d ruined that for her. When Jon had shown up that last time having been AWOL for ten days, flourishing a wild pig at her and grinning like a Cheshire cat, she hadn’t been grateful to see him at all. She’d been furious.
“Where the hell have you been?” she’d demanded of him.
“Whoa,” he’d said, taking a step back. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? Jon, you buggered off again with no warning, no explanation, not even a note. I have no idea if you’re dead or alive or when you’ll be back. You promised to stop this kind of behaviour when Willow was born.”
“No, you asked me to promise. I did no such thing and I don’t see what the problem is.”
“Are you serious? Jon, you’re a father now. We have a beautiful little girl who depends on you, or have you forgotten that? You can’t keep living like you’re eighteen and only pleasing yourself, it’s not fair on her or me.”
“Man you never used to be like this,” he’d said.
‘Like what?”
“Like this. You’re such a bitch these days. Remember when we first got together and we promised each other that we wouldn’t bow to society’s rules; that we’d do whatever we wanted whenever we wanted and screw everyone else.”
She’d sighed and rubbed her temples warily. “Yes Jon, I remember. I also remember we were pretty drunk at the time. But we grew up, or at least I did. We have a child now. You have to start thinking of her. I had to sell some of our belongings just to make the rent this month. I can’t live like this, unpredictably, worrying about where the next pay check is going to come from. You haven’t held down a job for longer than six months and I’m already working two. It’s not fair.” She started to cry.
“Oh here we go again with the waterworks,” he’d snarled. “You do everything and I do nothing, blah, blah, blah. Same old fucken broken record.”
“Well it’s true,” she’d cried. “What have you done lately to help this family out? Tell me, I can’t wait to hear the answer. Your daughter is lying awake in bed with a rumbling tummy because I only had a packet of noodles to give her for her dinner. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
“What the hell do you think this is,” he’d shouted, kicking the pig where it lay on the ground between them. Its head lolled to one side and its lifeless eyes seemed to stare at her. It made her even sadder.
“It’s a pig Jon, I’m not blind.”
‘It’s food for us for a month is what it is,” he’d countered.
And she had known that it was pointless arguing. He really believed that disappearing into the bush for weeks at a time, leaving his wife and daughter to fend for themselves, with no money and no idea of when he would be back, was alright. As long as he bought back a pig or a goat or a deer, anything they could cook and eat, everything was ok.
So frustrated and tired of arguing, she’d waited till he was out of the shower and threw a pillow at him, telling him to sleep in the spare room that night. In the morning she woke with a fresh perspective, determined they would sort things out and that the marriage could be saved for Willow’s sake. She would compromise, and she hoped he would too. But he was gone again. And as the days turned into weeks which turned into months, she finally realised this time his absence was for good, and he wasn’t coming back.
So she’d given notice on her flat and moved back home with her parents; tail between her legs and licking her wounds, and she’d promised herself that Willow would never know that her father had chosen a life of freedom over a life with her. She’d sat her cherubic, chubby perfect little daughter down one day and told her that daddy had gone to live in the hills so that he could hunt lots of animals and bring them lots of meat so that they would never go hungry again. And every Sunday she got up in the very early hours of the morning and fetched whichever cut of meat she’d purchased earlier in the week and hidden in the shed freezer, and she put it in a chilly bin on the front porch with some ice packs to keep it cold overnight and she let her daughter believe that her father had left it there for them.
And Willow had never questioned it.
A loud horn behind her bought her back to the present day and to the realisation that the light in front of her had turned green.
“Sorry,” she mouthed into her rear view mirror at the car behind. The lady waved back with a smile.
Maggie turned into a park and turned the car off.
“Damn you Jon Tanner,” she said softly, “wherever you are. I hope it was worth it.”
Chapter twelve
After purchasing some Christmas wrapping paper, colourful sparkly ribbons and a roll of sticky tape, Maggie threw them all into the backseat of her car, slammed the door shut and leant against it. She was twitchy and restless. Thinking about the past always did that to her. She checked her watch, 4.15pm. She didn’t feel like heading home yet.
There was something about this time of year, the expectation that tickled the back of your neck, the feeling like at any moment a random
passersby might burst into carol singing and snow might fall from the sky.
Damn holiday movies.
Even she, who found this time of year the hardest time of all, couldn’t ignore the flickering you got deep down in your belly when you thought about Christmas.
She got in the car and without a conscious thought she headed to The Corner Pub. Harper was busy once again behind the bar. She smiled broadly when she saw her friend walk in.
“Twice in one week?” Harper said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Maggie climbed onto a bar stool and sighed at her friend.
“Coke please. No wait, make it a cider.”
“Which one?”
“The one with the highest percentage of alcohol.”
Harpers pulled a face. “Day drinking? Again? Why do I get the feeling that something, or someone perhaps, is troubling you.”
“It’s nearly five. And don’t you start,” Maggie said. “I’ve already had Mum trying to get me to admit to something that hasn’t and never will happen.”
“Like what?”
“Nice try.”
Harper decided to go easy on her friend. She knew this time of year was difficult for Maggie. She, Maggie and Jon had all gone to school together. In fact both girls had developed crushes on the ruggedly handsome first fifteen rugby player in their final year of high school, but it was Maggie who had caught Jon’s eye. He’d been unreliable even back then but still Harper would never have picked he would desert Maggie and Willow like he had. If she knew where to find him she would kick his ass from here to Timbuktu, but it was like he had dropped off the face of the earth.
From time to time there had been unconfirmed sightings. Old school friends would say they had seen him in another town, from a distance, never close enough to speak too. Harper had even thought at one point about hiring a private detective to try and trace him, just so Maggie could get some closure. But Wade had talked her out of it.
“Don’t interfere,” he’d warned. “Let sleeping dogs lie. No good can come from raking up the past.”
And as much as he and his idioms annoyed her, she knew he was right. But seeing her friend morose like this every Christmas was hard. She knew it wasn’t because Maggie still loved Jon, those feelings had long since dissipated into the night, but it broke Maggie’s heart that Jon never contacted Willow. Sweet, feisty little Willow.
“Here,” Harper said, plonking a larger than normal glass down in front of her friend. “It’s on the house.”
After calling home and making sure that Willow was ok, Maggie insisted on paying for the next one, and the one after that.
“Maggie, you know you can’t handle too much alcohol before you go all maudlin and silly” Harper gently reminded her friend.
“You’re probably right,” Maggie agreed. “But I don’t care. It’s Christmas. Aren’t I supposed to drink and be merry at Christmas? Isn’t that what you all want from me?”
“No sweet pea, we just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. I’m perfectly happy with my life thank you very much. It’s you lot that seem to think I need something more.”
“If you’re talking about a man, I know you don’t need one. I just think it would be nice for you to remember how much fun they can be.”
“It all comes back to sex with you doesn’t it.”
“Well how long has it been exactly?”
“None of your business.”
Harper whistled. “That long huh?”
“Shut up.”
“You know what? I’m due a break. How about I join you.”
“Oh that would be lovely,” Maggie said gratefully.
While Harper finished up and told Wade and the other barman that she was finishing, Maggie nursed her drink and stewed. It had been a long time, longer than she would care to admit. Since Jon there had been only one other man and she preferred to forget all about him. It was a one off drunken fumble in the hay bales at a Guy Fawkes party a few years back with a farm hand from a few farms over. He was almost ten years younger than her for Christ’s sakes, and she’d been deeply embarrassed when she woke the next morning and realised what they’d done. He on the other hand thought what they’d done was pretty damn awesome, and he’d been super keen on a repeat, something she’d made clear was never going to happen. Thankfully no one else had found out, and she planned on keeping it that way.
Here she was, in her prime, and as celibate as a nun. But it honestly hadn’t bothered her until now. Why all of a sudden was she even thinking about this? She knew why, it was that damn Jack. He was pompous and rude, but hell, when he’d touched her she felt like someone had just jumpstarted her with an electric current. It had shot through her body, turning on switches, firing up cylinders and cranking handles. Now it was all she could think about.
“I need another drink,” she drained the last of the pale liquid from her glass.
“Me too,” agreed Harper, who upended her glass of wine and skulled the whole lot in one go. “Barkeep,” she called, licking her lips, “two more drinks if you will. And make it quick.”
“Only if you two eat something to line your stomachs,” Wade said. “I don’t need you vomiting on my damn floors. I’ll get the chef to rustle you up a burger and fries each.”
“Fine,” they agreed to appease him, but when the food arrived they barely touched it. They were having too much fun drinking and reminiscing.
“Oh let’s sing,” said Harper, her eyes bright. “Baby chuck me the key to turn on the Karaoke machine,” she called to Wade.
“Now now my darling,” he said in a low voice, “you remember what you promised the last time?”
The Karaoke machine sat in the corner with a cloth draped over it, and was only used occasionally when the pub was hired out as a party venue. A year previously though Harper and a couple of other girlfriends had got plastered and decided to hold their own party, and some city guys passing through videoed them singing on their phone and uploaded it to You Tube. The clip had gone viral and gained over a hundred thousand views in one month. But not because it was any good. The women, who could barely stand they were so drunk, sounded like castrated cats scratching at metal bin lids. Harper had been mortified when she’d sobered up.
“Oh nah it’s all good,” she slurred, looking around the pub. “There’s only locals here. None of them would dare video us, would you,” she yelled.
“Baby I really think –”
“Pass me the bloody key or I’ll get it myself,” she growled.
He sighed and threw it over.
Soon she and Maggie were happily singing away to ABBA and a collection of songs from the movie Grease.
“Aw bugger it you two, you’re scaring all my customers away,” Wade complained as yet another couple paid hurriedly for their meal and left.
An hour later and Wade knew that neither woman would be capable of seeing themselves home. He went out the back to the kitchen and placed a call to Dot.
“I haven’t seen her like this since Jon left,” he told her quietly, one hand pushing the swinging door slightly open so he could keep an eye on the two.
Dot sighed. “I know. She was like that earlier today. Something is bothering her, more than normal I mean, for this time of year.”
“You want me to bring her home?”
“No it’s ok, I’ll sort something. Just keep her there and keep her happy.”
“Oh she’s happy alright,” he said wincing as the two of them murdered Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart.
“What on earth is that racket?”
“Let’s just say I think you better get here quick, before I have no business left.”
It wasn’t Dot or Ray though that walked through the door half an hour later, it was Jack. He scanned the room and spotted Maggie in the corner near the Karaoke machine. She had her head thrown back and microphone pressed against her lips as she gave a powerfully loud, if not tuneful, rendition of Sweet Caroline by Neil Diam
ond. Jack walked up to the bar and ordered a whiskey on the rocks.
The drink was placed in front of him and he took a large gulp. “Thanks,” he smiled at Wade, “I have a feeling I’m going to need this.” He watched the two women, amused, as they started singing Waterloo.
“Yeah sorry about them,” Wade apologised, eyeing the two ladies who were oblivious to anything or anyone around them. “I was just about to shut the bar up. No point staying open when they’re scaring all my customers away. I’m surprised you were brave enough to come through the door, could you not hear them from outside?”
“Oh yes I heard them alright. I heard them the moment I turned the corner onto the street.” Jack shuddered as a particularly high note was attempted, and failed. “Can’t you flick an off switch at the wall or something?”
Wade shrugged his shoulders. “Not much I can do about it sorry. The tall one is my girlfriend. She’d kill me if I pulled the plug.”
“Ah I see,” Jack smiled in understanding.
“Exactly. But while I may not have a choice in being here, you can still get out. Go; make a run for it while you still have your hearing.”
“I would but I’m here on a mission.”
Wade gave him a questioning look.
“I’ve been sent by Dot to collect the short one,” Jack told him, gesturing towards the women.
“Maggie?”
“That’s the one.” He drained the rest of his whiskey, put his glass back on the counter then held out a hand, “Jack.”
“Ah, understanding dawns,” Wade shook Jack’s hand. “I’ve heard about you.”
“Christ, nothing too bad I hope.”
“Well,” Wade pulled a diplomatic face, “Let’s just say that it can take Maggie a little time to warm up to new people.”
“So I’m learning.”
“Once she’s your friend though she’s as loyal as anything.”
The song finished and Harper turned to holler at Wade.
“More drinks,” she called.
“No,” he said firmly. “You’ve had enough. It’s time to go home now baby and get some water and aspirins into you.”
A Roast on Sunday Page 9
