by Donna Milner
7
Every single day, whenever Julie allows her thoughts to stray there, whenever she lets down her guard and imagines a different conclusion to that October night, she spirals into the futile never-ever-land of what-might-have-been.
Standing behind the locked bathroom door she splashes cold water on her face in a futile effort to tide the flood of memories. She hears the back door close as Ian leaves the house—most likely going over to Virgil’s cabin. To apologize? To ask him to leave? She doesn’t know. What she does know is that she could not share the real reason for her strong reaction to their tenant. So she had told him she was simply startled by Virgil’s crow pendant, a pendant similar to one that Levi Johnny wore. It would be too cruel to tell him that Darla was wearing it the last time she saw her alive.
“Couldn’t he just go?” she had asked Ian.
“Why? Are you going to blame everyone who reminds you of Levi Johnny?” Ian’s eyes narrow into a V. “Is it because he’s Native?”
No. No of course not. She couldn’t blame an entire race, any more than she could blame every teenage boy, every hockey player. And yet, Ian’s accusation rang true. Because yes, she wants, needs, someone, something to blame, otherwise she is condemned to spend the rest of her life reliving every detail, all the mistakes, the little missteps and wrong choices that were made that night, including Ian’s. And hers.
Would her world, her family, still be intact if she hadn’t rummaged through her purse to answer her cell phone while she was driving to the opening performance of Grease, Darla’s high-school play that evening?
Already anxious because Ian was late on their daughter’s big night, she had looked down at her cell phone’s call display expecting it to be him, but saw only the ‘undisclosed number’ message. Letting the car slow to a crawl she had flipped open the phone and held it to her ear. Nothing but static. She was about to close it when she heard an angry male voice demand: “Do you know where your husband is?” She braked with a jerk, pulled to the highway shoulder and stared down at the illuminated face. Call ended. The sound of her windshield wipers filled the silence.
“Some kook,” she said out loud, then pressed the speed dial for Ian’s office. After one ring a recorded message announced office hours. She tried his cell phone and got the same response. That meant nothing, she told herself as she pulled back onto the rain-soaked highway. Like herself, Ian might be on his way to the school right now. He refused to answer his cell phone while driving. Probably delayed by an anxious client, she reasoned, even as the hot stone of suspicion thudded into her stomach.
Inside the school she stood on the top landing of the amphitheatre cradling the cellophane-wrapped yellow rose she had brought for Darla. The building was new, a modern open institution. Still, as she scanned the audience below, Julie imagined she could detect the universal high-school odour of metallic lockers, sweaty gym shoes and chalk dust. Seeing no sign of Ian’s salt-and-pepper hair, she headed down the centre aisle toward two empty seats at the end of the second row. She took the aisle seat, placed her coat on the other to indicate it was saved, and smiled ‘hello’ at the couple sitting next to it. She didn’t know their names but the faces were familiar. Being a realtor in a town of less than ten thousand meant most were. While she waited for the play to begin she glanced around, exchanging greetings with waves and smiles. This was one of the many things she loved about living in a small town; no matter where you went you saw friendly faces.
By the time the lights dimmed Ian was still a no-show. Feeling the guilt of hoarding a seat while others stood on the top landing, she removed her coat and arranged it on her lap with her purse and Darla’s rose while the first off-key notes of the school orchestra pierced the darkness.
During the opening scenes she had to restrain herself from turning around every few minutes to survey the audience for Ian, but the moment the Rizzo character, the ringleader of the Pink Ladies of Rydell High, appeared on stage Julie’s attention was riveted. If she hadn’t heard Darla and her best friend, Kajul Sandhu, rehearsing their roles in the family room week after week, she might not have recognized her daughter.
For the last few months Darla had let her hair grow for the part. Now it was pulled back and tied up with a pink chiffon scarf. The satin ‘Pink Ladies’ jockey jacket, rolled-up blue jeans, saddle oxfords and bobbie-socks, along with the heavy greasepaint make-up and exaggerated gum chewing, made the transformation to the ’50s wannabe-tough girl startling. When her daughter sang “Look at Me, I’m Sandra Dee,” displaying a talent that surprised Julie, she had to blink back tears of motherly pride. As the room darkened at the end of the scene and the audience exploded in applause, Julie was filled with a sadness that Ian was not there to share this with her. Damn him, she thought as intermission arrived and he did not, Darla will be so disappointed.
She remained seated while others around her rose to file out for the break. The young man sitting in the seat in front of her stood up slowly. Things hadn’t changed much from the ’50s, Julie thought, noting the familiar red-and-white lettered school jacket. As the boy turned to join the line-up in the aisle, Julie recognized the thick black hair worn just a little too long and the handsome young profile already set in the serious countenance of a First Nations Elder.
“Hello, Levi,” Julie said, surprised to see it was her daughter’s friend. But then why should she be, he was the one who had picked up Darla and Kajul earlier to drive them to the school to get ready for the play. Before they went out the door she had watched him transfer the carved crow pendant from around his neck to Darla’s for ‘luck.’
Now he turned to Julie, his dark depthless eyes meeting hers, and he smiled. The change never failed to amaze her. The solemn mask was replaced momentarily with a flashing white-toothed smile punctuated by cavernous dimples. As quickly as the expression appeared it was gone, the muscles of his square jaw returning his face to the chiselled lines of seriousness.
“Hey, Mrs O.D.” His voice was barely audible under the din of surrounding chatter. “That play’s pretty good, eh?”
“It certainly is,” she said, then asked, “So when is your next game?”
“Saturday, up in Prince George.”
“Well, good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Watching him retreat up the aisle Julie smiled. That was probably the longest conversation she’d ever had with Levi Johnny. Still, she liked this shy young man and was glad to see that he had stayed to watch Darla’s play. Levi had been part of her circle of friends ever since he moved into the high-school dorms years ago. His mother lived out on the NaNeetza Valley Reserve; the boy stayed in town for the school year. Hockey practice and games took up most of his free time. According to local rumours, and to Darla’s proud declarations, he was NHL material and being scouted by a number of universities. From the beginning Julie’s instincts told her that Levi was a good boy. She believed that he was the settling influence during Darla’s attempted rebellion, which she had thought was over—until early this month.
Seeing Levi reminded Julie how deeply disappointed she still was with her daughter’s shocking deception. The boy had unknowingly played a part in it. And perhaps she had herself when she so blindly accepted Darla’s plans that Friday evening. It never occurred to Julie to question her daughter when she said that she was meeting her best friend, Kajul, at the arena to watch Levi’s hockey game and so would be home late. In fact Julie had driven her downtown and dropped her off in front of the arena doors. Only later, when she thought back, would she recognize that the parking lot of the sportsplex was not nearly full enough for a hometown game. She and Ian learned the truth watching the late-night news. The visiting team, Levi’s team, had defeated Cranbrook on their home ice that evening six to one, Levi scoring a hat trick. A hurried phone call to Kajul’s home made it worse. Darla wasn’t there. Kajul had not been out all night. Frantic, Julie and Ian drove around for hours checking every possible spot that teenagers were known to haunt. It w
as Ian who decided to drive down to the ‘Hollow.’
The sandy patch of beach along the Fraser River was a local hangout, difficult to drive to, and far enough away from town for privacy. But it was dangerous. A few years ago two teenage boys, emboldened by alcohol, had played chicken, wading deeper and deeper into the swirling river in the darkness. They were both swept away by the treacherous current, their bodies not found until the following day.
“Darla would never go there,” Julie had reasoned as they bumped down the steep narrow road leading to the river valley. “She knows it’s out of bounds. She promised… she promised.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Ian or herself.
“She’s a teenager,” Ian said, braking on a sharp turn. “But let’s hope you’re right!”
She wasn’t. As they came to a skidding stop, their headlights illuminated the group of teenagers milling around a huge bonfire, scrambling to hide beer cans. She immediately located Darla’s shocked face in the crowd.
All the way home a hysterical Darla swore it was the first time she had ever gone there. She had just wanted to see what the big deal was. She’d only had a few sips of beer. She would never be invited anywhere ever again after her parents had barged in and broken it up. “How could you do that to me?” she had wailed. They grounded her for a month.
Despite her whining protests, the punishment stood. Except for school, play rehearsals and performances, she was confined to the house for one full month. She had a week to go.
While the audience filed back in, Julie turned once again to check the landing to see if Ian had come in during intermission. Beyond disappointed, she was closing in on furious to see no sign of him. Two aisles over she spotted Kajul’s parents, reclaiming their seats. Acknowledging Mrs Sandhu’s wave, Julie couldn’t help noticing the bouquet of flowers that overwhelmed the woman’s lap. Their daughter Kajul, whose name always sounded like ‘Casual’ to Julie, was anything but. The dark-haired, doe-eyed teenager, playing the part of Frenchy tonight, had taken on the role of the beauty-school-aspiring, high-school drop-out, as if the character was written especially for her. The proud bouquet suited her.
Julie glanced down at her own small offering and smiled inwardly. It too was just right. The single rose marked a special occasion in their family. Ian had brought one to the hospital the day Darla was born. Every year, along with the yellow candles, Julie placed a single yellow rose—Darla’s favourite colour—on her birthday cake.
At the end of the performance, after the final curtain call, the cast formed a reception line in front of the stage. Darla gushed over her flower, accepting it with a formal curtsy, and then throwing herself into her mother’s arms and jumping up and down as if she were ten years old again. “Wasn’t it wicked, Mom? Did you like it?”
“Like it, my God, I loved it,” Julie shouted to be heard above the din. She stepped back and held her daughter by the shoulders to look into her eyes. She knew her own were filling up but didn’t care. “You were so good... so… so wonderful… I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m sorry your dad didn’t make it, he must…”
“It’s okay,” Darla said offhandedly, her gaze straying beyond Julie’s shoulder. “I knew he couldn’t make it tonight. He called before you got home. I thought you knew.”
“Oh.”
“He’s coming tomorrow night,” Darla said, reaching past Julie to grab a white leather sleeve, and pulling Levi between them. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered something into his ear, and he nodded a silent reply.
“Mom,” she said, turning back to her, “there’s a cast party after we’re cleaned up here.”
Julie raised her eyebrow; she didn’t want to have to say it out loud. Darla knew she was still grounded.
“Pleeease, Mom. Just this once. Please, please. The whole cast is going.”
Julie hesitated. “Where is it?”
“At Wade Morrey’s, the guy who played Danny. He lives up on Cottonwood Drive,” Darla’s eyes pleaded. “Kajul’s going. Honestly! Her parents are letting her. You can ask them. They’re right there.”
Julie glanced over at Kajul, standing between her parents, beaming behind her wild bouquet.
“Levi will drive us,” Darla said. “Say it’s okay. Pretty please, Mom.”
Julie was aware that she was being played. Still, she had to trust Darla again sometime. She checked her watch. It was just past nine thirty. Not that late. The entire cast was going. How could she say no? She had hoped to share this excitement, this moment, with Darla and Ian. She had envisioned the three of them cuddled in front of the TV with a bowl of popcorn and a blanket while Darla rehashed every nuance of the evening.
“Come on, Mom, it’s only ten minutes from our place. We’ll be home by midnight.” Darla tugged on Levi’s arm. “Won’t we?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve got a hockey practice tomorrow morning.”
Looking from her daughter’s hopeful face to Levi’s, Julie shook her head, half in exasperation, and half in surrender. “All right then,” she said, holding his gaze, “but promise me you’ll see her home safely by midnight. I’m counting on you.”
“Yes!” Darla gave her a quick hug. Then as if afraid she’d change her mind she turned away pulling Levi with her.
As he allowed himself to be tugged away, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Don’t worry Mrs O.D.,” he said, “I promise I’ll bring her home before midnight.”
Watching them disappear in the crowd she wondered if Ian would have caved in so easily. Probably not. It might be difficult to explain to him why she had let Darla off the hook, before her grounding period was up. But Ian wasn’t here, so whose fault was that?
Outside the school doors, Julie pulled up the collar of her coat and wrapped it tighter. The cold night air smelled crisp and clean. The rain had stopped, and she looked up at the full moon in a star-filled sky as she made her way to the car. The temperature had dropped in the last few hours leaving a crystalline sparkle on the asphalt parking lot. She hoped that this weather would not last until Wednesday like it had last Halloween when all the trick-or-treaters showed up at her door shivering in the frigid wind.
Pulling out of the school parking lot she turned right, instead of left to the highway and the shorter route home. She would just spin by Ian’s office; see if he was finished, she told herself. Maybe they would have a nightcap together. Downtown she slowed the car in front of his office, a renovated two-storey Heritage home on the corner of Pinewood Street. The windows were dark.
Was this why I gave into Darla’s request so easily, she wondered, because of some anonymous voice on the telephone? Was that all it took to turn her into a madwoman who chases around town late at night checking up on her husband?
She turned into the alley. Two vehicles were parked in the empty lot behind the office—Ian’s Jeep and a silver Lincoln Towncar. Pulling up beside the Lincoln she switched off her motor. She stared at the familiar vehicle, could almost smell Valerie Ladner’s heavy-handed Tabu perfume. In all the years she had worked with Valerie at Black’s Real Estate, they were never close friends. But they were cordial business associates. Just that afternoon, as she rushed out of the office, Valerie had given her a message to pass on to Darla to ‘break a leg’ tonight. Julie knew that she was going through a difficult divorce and Ian was her accountant, but at this time of night?
Staring up at the unlit office Julie struggled with the burning sensation rising in her throat, then threw her car door open and climbed out. She had a key to the office. Slamming the door behind her she strode over and stomped up the back steps. But as she approached the landing she slowed down. What was she thinking? Exactly what was she going to do? Burst in and throw all the lights on, hoping to discover… what?
She stopped, spun around and fled back to the car. Inside, feeling like a fool she resisted the urge to bang her forehead against the steering wheel. She shoved the key in the ignition. Then, not ca
ring that the motor screeched, she gunned it and sped out of the parking lot.
On the ten-minute drive home she practised deep breathing, while she talked to herself. Drive slowly. Don’t jump to conclusions. There are multitudes of explanations for this. She just had to take the time to figure it out. He had phoned, hadn’t he? She hadn’t had the chance to ask Darla the details of their conversation. Perhaps he and Valerie had worked late and then walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner. That made sense. Realtors’ accounting can be complicated, even more so during a marriage break-up. There’s probably a message on the phone at home explaining everything. But there wasn’t.
By the time Julie was ready for bed at 11:30 there still was no call, and no Ian. Fighting her growing anger she locked all the doors. Darla had her own front door key, and Ian had an automatic garage door opener. If he doesn’t have his key to the inside garage door, that’s his problem.
Upstairs, brushing her teeth in the ensuite bathroom, she spotted a bottle of Ian’s sleeping pills next to his sink. Unlike Ian, Julie had never felt the need for them, but tonight she was so keyed up. This weekend was going to be busy, with two open houses and a buyer transferring to town. Her day would start early tomorrow and she needed sleep. She picked up the bottle. One should do the trick. Ian always took two, but he was used to them. She shook out one of the tiny pills and placed it under her tongue, letting it dissolve as she climbed into bed. Darla would be home in less than half an hour. Even if the sedative kicked in before that, Julie had always been able to sleep with one ear listening for her daughter.
Opening the nightstand drawer she retrieved the eye mask her sister had given her. She rarely used it, thought of it more as a joke, but when she wanted to give Ian a message not to disturb her she donned the black silk mask. She did so now, securing the elastic strap behind her ears and blocking out any light. She didn’t want to face him tonight; didn’t want to think about any of this. She liked her life exactly the way it was and a part of her suspected that beneath her anger was a growing panic that things were about to change. To divert her mind while she waited for Darla, she laid in the false darkness and reviewed her pending sales, mentally opening each file, checking the subjects, closing dates.
