Every Time We Say Goodbye
Page 30
“Does it look familiar to you?” Dawn asked. It was weird to think that Dan had been a baby here. It was weird to think that they had all been babies here, beside the same creek, under the same roof.
“A little, but maybe magical places look familiar to everyone. Hey—wild leeks!” Dan pulled one out of the ground and nibbled on the green stalk.
Jimmy stripped a handful of chokecherries from overhead and tossed them one by one into the creek. “So, are you like our uncle or cousin or what?”
“Well,” Dan said, “your grandfather is my uncle, so that makes us … What does that make us?”
“And technically, he isn’t our grandfather,” Dawn said. “You know, by blood.”
Dan made a face of mock anguish. “Argh! Now you’re just making it complicated.”
Jimmy decided they needed something cool to drink and went up to the house for pop. Dawn wondered who Dan’s father was, and if he had grown up making birthday candle wishes for his dad to show up. It didn’t seem right to raise such a personal topic, but then she thought, We’re family, so she asked. “Dan, you never met your dad?”
“My mother said he went to war. He wasn’t killed over there, but she never saw him again.”
“Were they in love?”
Dan shrugged. “I don’t think so. She never had much to say about him. She didn’t even have a picture.”
“That sucks,” Dawn said. “Not knowing anything about your father.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t ideal,” Dan said.
Jimmy had come back with three sweating cans of ginger ale. “It’s like a hundred degrees,” he said, handing out the pop. He sat down beside Dan. “Vera says we’re related because everyone in the world is related if you go back far enough.”
“Well, that’s true,” Dan said, draining his ginger ale.
“Did she really say that?” Dawn asked.
“Nah,” Jimmy grinned. “First cousins once removed.”
“ ‘Once removed’!” Dan snickered at this, then reached over and tested the water with his hand. “Do you guys swim here?”
“In the creek?” Dawn was aghast. They had never swum in the creek. Vera would have had a fit. But Dan was pulling off his shoes and socks. He splashed out into the water in his ripped jeans and T-shirt. “Not deep enough to swim,” he said, sinking down, “but so nice.” The green water came up to his shoulders, and he tipped his head back and doused his hair. “Ahhh,” he said.
“What are Grandma and Grandpa doing?” Dawn asked her brother.
“Grandpa’s awake. Grandma’s making butter tarts,” he said. “Laura’s there and Geraldine’s on her way.”
Dan lifted his head out of the water. “Are you guys coming in or what?”
Dawn shook her head, but Jimmy said, “I will.” He pulled off his shirt and waded in, sinking down beside Dan. “Come on, Dawn,” he said.
She gathered her skirt close and followed him in. The water was silty and soft. They lounged and talked until they heard two car doors slam in the driveway. “Geraldine and Amy,” Jimmy announced.
“We should go up,” Dawn said, but she was reluctant to leave the cool green water. She arched her back and floated, feeling her hair fan out behind her. Now that they had done it once, it seemed like they had been swimming in the creek all their lives. Jimmy began scooping armfuls of water at her. She splashed him back, and then they both doused Dan. Above them, another car door slammed. Jimmy stopped mid-splash. “Who’s that, now?”
“Your father, probably,” Dan said, standing up and sloshing towards the rock.
Dawn and Jimmy looked at each other. “Why do you say that?” Dawn asked.
“I talked to him last night,” Dan said. “He borrowed a car and was leaving at five this morning.”
For a moment, they were afraid to move. “What if it’s not him?” Dawn asked.
Through the trees they could hear a medley of voices. “What if they fight?”
“What if Grandma doesn’t let him in the house?”
Dan hopped on one leg, yanking socks onto his wet feet. He said, “Of course she’ll let him in the house. He’s her son. Go!”
Dawn and Jimmy raced up the bank, water streaming off them, yelling, “Dad! Dad!” In the driveway, a car was parked awkwardly between Geraldine’s dented Honda and Laura’s new Ford. The trunk was wide open, and the engine ticked as it cooled. The screen door was open too, but the front porch was empty. Everyone had already gone inside.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to
My parents, Jim and Judy, for allowing me to snip pieces out of their stories and sew them into this novel (or at least for not protesting too much when I got out the scissors)
My agent, Anne McDermid, for her (more than ten years of) patience and invaluable advice
Diane Martin and the team at Knopf Canada, especially Deirdre Molina—for their dedication to this book, and for being such a pleasure to work with
The eagle-eyed Sue Sumeraj
The Canada Council for the Arts
Dan Wilson, for encouragement, playlists, and (especially) the title
Maureen Lennon, for reading, and for reminding me to write
Dr. Peter Steele, for his very generous help when I needed it most
All the mothers who took the time to speak with me about this novel
My brother Jason and my sister Eva, and Pema Dorji, for making me laugh
JAMIE ZEPPA is the author of Beyond the Sky and the Earth: A Journey into Bhutan, which won the Banff Mountain Book Festival Award for Adventure Travel Writing. She won the CBC Canadian Literary Award for Memoir and her essays have appeared in AWOL: Tales for Travel-Inspired Minds, My Wedding Dress: True-Life Tales of Lace, Laughter, Tears and Tulle and Between Interruptions: 30 Women Tell the Truth about Motherhood. She has written articles and reviews for Chatelaine, The Globe and Mail, the Toronto Star, the Literary Review of Canada and Ascent, as well as several UK newspapers. Jamie has a teenage son, and she teaches English at Seneca College in Toronto. This is her first novel.