Relative Happiness

by Lesley Crewe

  He needed to get to the ocean.

  Gabby never asked him where he was going anymore. As the weeks slipped by he realized he’d have to go. He couldn’t believe he’d do this to her, but he had no choice.

  Gabby thought he was a good man, but he wasn’t. He left Binti behind. He had to find her. He had no right to happiness until she was safe.

  He had killed her mother after all.

  Chapter Six

  The heat of that July was unrelenting. Even the cool Atlantic wind couldn’t take the oppression away. There was a haze that lingered over everything. On those endless days of summer, even the water was lazy. It slowly lapped the sand with only enough energy to create a small curl of wave.

  It was unseasonably warm even in the early morning, the dew gone before dawn. When Lexie threw open her back screen door and looked out over the cliffs beyond, the water was like glass, a smooth mirror that reflected the new day’s sun. In the stillness, she heard the lobster boats as they left the harbour, she listened to the fishermen as they called out to one another. She loved to see them head out for open water, loaded with traps, small against a vast pink horizon.

  Lexie would always live by the ocean. How did one breathe otherwise?

  She dragged to and from work with the enthusiasm of a dishrag.

  “I wish it would rain or something,” she said to Judy, as they sat in the lunchroom at the back of the library.

  Judy nodded but didn’t say anything. She picked away at her salad.

  Lexie opened her yogurt container. “Even fog would be appreciated. I think I’ll go to the beach after work and do my imitation of a beached whale.” She thought Judy would laugh but she didn’t. Instead, she looked fed up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Judy said primly, “Since you ask, I’ll tell you. You’ve become almost as annoying as Marlene.”

  “Marlene?”

  “Lexie, I’m old enough to be your mother. I certainly wish I had a daughter like you but I’m tired of hearing you put yourself down all the time. It’s as if you want everyone to think you’re a big fat failure. Look at me, I’ve got curly hair, I’m overweight, I don’t have a man, oh boo hoo. If you really think that, shut up and deal with it.”

  Lexie was kicked in the teeth. Mousy Judy just told her off. She was transported back to the principal’s office. Not that she’d ever been to the principal’s office, but she imagined this is how it felt.

  Judy warned, “I’ll tell you this once and then never again and I really hope you believe me. Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

  Lexie shook her head. She didn’t dare say anything.

  “I see a beautiful woman, inside and out, who covers herself under big baggy clothes. Who keeps her head down and hides behind her hair. Who has the most beautiful eyes and a complexion to die for, but no one sees that because you won’t let them.”

  She continued to look Lexie straight on.

  “So you aren’t as small as your sisters. Who cares? You’re not even that big. Marilyn Munroe was a size sixteen you know. Just because fashion models look like bony clothes hangers, doesn’t mean you should. Be proud of yourself. And for heaven’s sake, put on a pair of jeans and tuck in your shirt. Marlene was right about one thing. I’m sick to death of those tablecloths you wear.”

  What could she say?

  Judy patted her hand on the way out. Why did everyone do that?

  After a few weeks of pretending she still liked Judy, it became too much. She knew Judy’s heart was in the right place and she was probably right, but the only thing Lexie could remember was that she wore tablecloths to work and was as annoying as Marlene.

  Lexie called Kate. Mom was right. It took two days of playing phone tag before she heard her in person.

  “Hi Lexie, is anything wrong?”

  The heat got to her. “Aren’t I allowed to call you just for the sake of calling?”

  “Calm down. Of course you can call me. But it’s not Sunday. Is everything all right?”

  Silence.

  “Are you there?”

  “I’m sick to death of crying all the time. I’m always crying. I’m boring myself sick with crying. And I don’t even know why I’m crying. Because—”

  Kate cut her off. “Lexie, why don’t you come and stay with me for awhile?”

  Lexie cried.

  She told them at the library she wanted a leave of absence. It went very smoothly, which surprised her. Then it occurred to her that as administrator, Judy had the final word as to whether she could go or not. That was kind.

  She arranged for Sophie to be with her mother while she was away. Lexie fully expected the poor cat to be ten pounds thinner by the time she got back. She wondered if Sophie knew it too because she clung for dear life when Lexie dropped her off. But even pathetic mews couldn’t keep Lexie from going. Kate and Daphne had an old farmhouse off St. Margaret’s Bay, a prime piece of property on the water that belonged to Daphne’s family, and she couldn’t wait to see it.

  So Lexie closed up her much-loved house. She needed to get away but was wistful as she backed out of her driveway. She’d only be gone for a month or so, but the house looked like it missed her already. It didn’t help that it was a drizzly day. It was as if her garden wept, upset that she was leaving.

  As she crossed the Seal Island bridge and started up Kelly’s Mountain, the fog drifted in and circled around the dark evergreen trees like second-hand smoke in a bar. The sky and surrounding lochs became the colour of bleached driftwood and old lobster traps.

  When she glanced at the dense cover of fir trees, Lexie thought of “Hansel and Gretel.” On dreary, heavy days like this, it seemed well within the realm of possibility that a witch did lurk deep within those woods.

  Lexie was always a little lost when she ventured over the Causeway. Her heart stayed behind, but after one long look back, she stepped on the gas and ventured forth.

  Kate and Daphne greeted Lexie with open arms when she hopped out of the van. She was sticky from the heat. The temperature rose with each passing mile, and since poor old Betsy didn’t have air conditioning, Lexie looked like a boiled lobster.

  “Oh, my God,” Kate shouted as she hugged her. “You’re soaking wet!”

  “And look at my hair!” She felt like Bozo the clown.

  Daphne laughed. “There’s only one remedy. Bomb’s away!” The two of them ran around the house so Lexie ran too. They scurried out onto the wooden dock at the back of their property, and did side by side cannonballs into the water with their clothes on.

  Lexie was a kid again. She tore up the deck and threw herself into the ice-cold water. She created a huge splash. The world disappeared into a million muffled bubbles. She saw the girls’ legs as they kicked underwater. It was heavenly. She didn’t want to surface. She wanted to stay under water where it was dark and lovely and cold, wanted to leave the bright hot sun and remain hidden.

  She held her breath for as long as she could, then popped up and joined the other two. They looked like otters, sleek and round as they bobbed in the water. They laughed as their clothes floated to the surface around them. They gathered the saltwater underneath their t-shirts and made it look like they had big boobs.

  At least, they did. Lexie had on her tablecloth and nearly drowned in a sea of cotton. She resolved to take Judy’s advice and buy herself a pair of shorts.

  They spent the rest of the evening in the bathrobes they threw on after their dip. The deck overlooked the water. Lexie sat in a comfy Adirondack chair with her feet up and drank cold beer while the steaks grilled. They had a glorious meal outdoors and after a bit, Kate went in the house to retrieve a bottle of ice wine and served it with dessert.

  Daphne dug into her raspberries and cream. “So how’s the library business?”

  “The books are great.”

  Kate passed Lexie a bowl of raspberries too. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  Kate looked at her sideways. “D
o you plan on being upset about Gabby and Adrian forever?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Lexie, you have to move on. You can’t mope about some guy until you’re old and grey. Why don’t you try to find someone else?”

  Daphne spoke up. “I know. We’ll have a party and invite a few friends over. My brother has some nice looking chaps on his baseball team.”

  “I hate men.”

  “We have some nice looking girls in our bridge club. Will they do?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  They stayed out and talked under the stars until late in the evening. Lexie wasn’t there to tell Kate about Mom and Dad. She’d keep Mom’s secret to the grave. The fact that she knew something that the others didn’t made her feel close to her mother. She didn’t need to share it anymore.

  But Lexie was sad and disillusioned. She felt adrift. She wanted someone to take care of her.

  Lexie woke up the next morning and didn’t know where she was. Then her head started to pound. She groaned and turned over on her stomach. A hangover. She hadn’t had one of those in a very long time, but was worth it. It was just what she needed.

  She lay on the narrow, wrought-iron bed for a long time. It was painted white. Everything in the room was in shades of white, sand or cream. It was beautiful. The wainscoting went up to the bottom of the window and the ledge it created held many treasures, shells and smooth, coloured glass Kate found beach-combing.

  A gauze curtain blew in the morning breeze. Lexie left the window open all night and listened to the crickets as she fell asleep.

  She thought of nothing. She wanted to think of nothing. She listened to Kate and Daphne as they woke up and moved around. It was Sunday morning. There was no hurry to leave to this heavenly house and venture into the city.

  It was odd to be in a clean, white room, so uncluttered and serene. Kate must be very happy. The room reflected peace. It felt smooth.

  Lexie lay there and thought of her bedroom and all the rooms in her house. They were chaotic compared to this, a jumble of colour and lights. Wicker baskets that hung or heaved under the weight of material or wool, paint brushes and sketch books. She had herbs and flowers from the garden drying on every windowsill. And candles. Adrian had been right about that. She didn’t know how she hadn’t burnt the house down.

  She needed to get rid of the clutter, all the unwanted stuff. But it wasn’t just her house she wanted to do over. It was her, everything about her.

  Judy’s message came through loud and clear, and Lexie didn’t feel upset with her anymore. She meant no malice, was only trying to help. And Lexie never let anyone help her. It was time she started.

  She realized she was more like her mother then she thought. She put up such a wall she was rigid. Lexie wanted to let people in. She wanted to stop being afraid. If no one in her life wanted to love her, she had to accept it. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t learn to love herself.

  After a very hot shower and two painkillers, Lexie moseyed downstairs in her bare feet. The hardwood floors gleamed. There were big white overstuffed sofas everywhere and colourful art on the walls. A huge stone fireplace stood in the middle of the room. It looked like a scene from a magazine.

  Something caught her eye.

  There on the floor in front of the fire was the hooked rug she had made for Kate last Christmas. It was a primitive piece, a scene with water and birds and wild flowers. It looked so nice against the blond wood, colourful and free.

  She’d never thought of her rugs as anything more than doodling with strips of wool. She’d never seen them except amid a hundred other items on her floors at home. It surprised her how beautiful it looked alone on the floor. Lexie was pleased.

  She stepped into the kitchen. Daphne sat at the table and read the paper as she drank a cup of coffee. “I didn’t know you guys had my rug in your living room.”

  Kate was by the stove. She raised the coffee pot and lifted her eyebrows as a signal that meant “do you want some coffee?” Lexie nodded her head.

  “Oh please,” Daphne muttered when she finished chewing a huge bite of blueberry muffin. “Do you know how many times we could have sold that thing?”

  “Really?” Her sister handed her a cup of coffee. “Thank you.”

  Kate agreed. “Oh yeah. I have to beat people away with a stick. I was offered two thousand dollars for it.”

  Lexie spit out her coffee. “Are you serious?”

  “It’s true.”

  She mused into her cup. “Well, well, well. I had no idea.”

  Daphne put down her paper. “If I were you, I’d get myself a web-page and take orders over the internet. The whole world would knock at your door in a matter of hours. You’d make a fortune.”

  Kate laughed. “She’d have to get a computer first.”

  Daphne gave Lexie a look like she had two heads.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have one. They annoy me enough at work. I never had a desire to own one. Not that I could afford it anyway.”

  “Well darling, whip up a rug while you’re here. We’ll sell it by Friday and you can buy one when you get back!”

  They giggled and stuffed themselves silly on muffins and homemade jam.

  Daphne was thoughtful enough to make up the excuse that her mother desperately needed her for the afternoon. She kissed the air and blew it in their direction.

  The sisters sat on either side of the fireplace, the magnificent rug between them. The couch swallowed Lexie up in a soft envelope.

  “How lucky you are, Kate, to find someone who’s so good to you.”

  “I know. I count my blessings every day.”

  Lexie gave a big sigh.

  Kate put down her coffee cup. “I know you look at me and think I have everything. But my life hasn’t been easy. No one’s is. Especially when you grow up gay in a small town and you live in fear someone will find out and then the whole town will know. It also wasn’t easy being the wonderful doctor’s daughter. We all had to deal with that.”

  She stared at Lexie’s rug. “I never wanted to embarrass Daddy or have Mom try and explain my lifestyle to one of her awful women’s groups. I was frightened most of the time. I think Daddy knows, but it’s not an issue with him. You know Dad. He loves us no matter what.”

  “What about Mom?”

  “My heart tells me she does know. But she’s never asked me. It’s crazy. But it made my life easier, so I didn’t rock the boat. Now that I’m older, I think it makes things worse. I never know where I stand.”

  She looked at her thumbnail as if she’d never seen it before. “I can’t figure out why she’s so uninterested in me. She’s always after you about diets and exercise. She harangues you endlessly to look better and tries to make you like Gabby and Beth. God, you are so much more than that. ” She leaned her head against her knuckles and propped herself up as if she were weary. “I feel guilty when she leaves me alone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she wears you out. It’s not fair.”

  “I know.” Lexie stared at her rug too. “I always feel wrong somehow, like I should just try harder or something. Even when Dad tells me not to change a thing, it makes no difference. Why aren’t mothers aware of the power they wield?”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, if I’d been born first and you’d been born last, I don’t think we’d have this conversation.”

  Lexie grinned. “Is that all it comes down to? You get off scot-free because she’s worn out yelling at me. You owe me baby sister.”

  “Too bad. Want a swim?”

  “Okay.”

  Kate chuckled as she ran towards the sliding doors. “We have to go in our birthday suits. Mr. Henderson needs his daily eyeful.”

  Lexie laughed. “Well, he’ll get more then he bargained for today.” The two of them threw off their robes, and pounded up the dock with their stark white backsides in full view of Mr. Henderson’s binoculars. They shouted, “Geronimo,” before they took flight for a brief moment and
then hit the water with a satisfying smack and a whoosh of white foam.

  Lexie had the happiest weeks of her life. She told the girls at dinner that she needed their help. She wanted to make some changes, a complete make-over. Where should she get her clothes? Where should she have her hair cut? They buzzed with excitement and promised to do their best.

  Lexie was on a limited budget. They handed her their gold Visa card and told her to go nuts. She knew she’d never do that, but was touched by the gesture all the same.

  On the first day downtown, after they dropped her off on the way to work, she found a stash of bills shoved in her jacket pocket. Never look a gift horse in the mouth. She spent it all.

  Over those glorious days, she forgot everything and everyone. She had fun. She’d forgotten how.

  Kate met with her between classes to take Lexie to her favourite hair salon. Lexie was nervous. She sat in the chair and looked at Kate in the mirror for moral support. Kate gave her a thumbs up but spent most of her time immersed in a rag that claimed Elvis was seen flying over Texas.

  Lexie didn’t know what to say when Troy, who had the most perfect eyebrows she’d ever seen, asked her what colour she had in mind. She panicked, so Kate came over and patted his shoulder. “Don’t ask her. Give her the works. Money’s no object.”

  “Well then!” he squealed. “Let the games begin.”

  One of his minions washed her hair and when she returned to the chair, Troy approached her with a critical eye. He lifted the ends of her hair and shook his head. He gave her a small look of disgust.

  “Darling. When did you last cut your hair? The seventies?”

  “That’s about right.”

  Troy gave his scissors a few practice squeezes. He rolled his neck to get the kinks out.

  “Come to Mama.”

  When he turned her around two hours later, Lexie couldn’t speak. Her hair was beautiful. Kate burst into tears.

  Troy took ten inches off. Suddenly, without all that dead weight, curls fell in soft waves around Lexie’s face. It was chin length and as she pulled her fingers through her scalp, it felt light and bouncy. It shone with highlights or something. She didn’t care what it was or how he did it. She gave good old Troy a big tip and smacked him right on the kisser.