Relative Happiness

by Lesley Crewe

  And then he died. At two months of age, in his little crib, in the house with the people who loved him so much.

  When Lexie lay awake in the middle of the night, she could still hear Beth screaming.

  They tried to help but for a long time they were frozen. Stiff. Like someone coming out of a coma, everything was heavy and hard to do.

  Mom amazed Lexie. She threw her shoulders back and waded into the job of helping her granddaughters cope with the loss of their baby doll Willie. Kate came home and helped too.

  Dad had a hard time in his office with patients who gave him their condolences one after the other. Lexie found him one day in his study weeping. He looked broken and old. She closed the door quietly and let him be.

  Rory coped with the loss of his son the only way he knew how. He kept busy. His colleagues at work knew he didn’t do anything, but he needed the routine to keep him sane. They covered for him.

  Then he started to split firewood in the backyard. He’d smack the axe as hard as he could and grunt with the effort of it. He tried to kill the heartbreak that tortured him.

  Somehow it was left to Lexie to try and help Beth. But there was no consoling her. Beth scared Lexie. She had dead eyes. She looked through people. She answered them sometimes but not often. She cried and cried until she should have had to stop, but she couldn’t. She’d go to Willie’s room and lean into his crib. She’d rub the sheets, the sheets she wouldn’t let them wash because they had his baby smell. She sorted his clothes, folded and refolded small, soft sweaters. She sat in the rocking chair and cradled the stuffed bear Dad gave him.

  She wandered as if she had no direction, no compass to guide her. She went to Willie’s grave and sat with him hour after hour. Lexie offered to plant flowers. Beth looked at Lexie with her big dead eyes. No, she couldn’t do that. She was afraid. Afraid she wouldn’t stop and dig him up so she could take him home.

  Everyone at the library was nice to Lexie. Even Marlene, who brought her coffee. She saw people as they whispered and nodded in her direction. They felt sorry for her family. They said so as they checked their books out. She’d thank them and continue pretending to read.

  One horrible drizzly day after work, she stopped in at Beth’s. The place was quiet. Mom and Kate had taken the girls to McDonalds. Rory wasn’t home. His brother invited him to go fishing, an excuse to sit together and share their sorrow.

  The house was in darkness. It felt cold and dreary. Empty.

  She called to Beth. There was no answer. She wasn’t in the kitchen. Lexie walked to the living room and turned on a lamp.

  Beth was at the window, her hands and forehead pressed against the glass.

  “Beth dear, what are you doing?”

  She didn’t speak.

  “Beth?”

  “How can I do this Lexie? How can I stand here and leave my baby in the rain?”

  Lexie couldn’t breathe. She went over and put her arms around her sister. “Please dear, let me run you a bath. You can put on your nightgown. I’ll make you some hot chocolate. I’ll sit with you until you fall asleep. Please. Please Beth. Do it for me.”

  “Okay,” she said, like a little child.

  Lexie took her sister upstairs by the hand. She sat Beth on the bed while she filled the tub with lavender water. She helped her undress and eased her into it.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She ran downstairs and put the kettle on and then ran back upstairs to make the bed with fresh linen. Lexie needed to run. She didn’t want to stop. She tidied the room, and put a new box of Kleenex on the bedside table.

  She went back to the kitchen and made a big mug of hot chocolate and cinnamon toast, and carried everything up on a tray to put beside the bed.

  She went into the bathroom. Beth was exactly as she left her, so Lexie knelt down and softly wiped her face. She poured water over her hair and washed it as if Beth were a toddler in the tub. She put bath gel on a sponge and rubbed her back. She told her she wouldn’t leave her.

  “It’s okay, Beth. I’m right here.”

  Lexie got her out and wrapped her in big fluffy towels. She put on her pyjamas and made Beth get into bed, then tucked up the blankets around her.

  When she held the mug of chocolate to her lips, Beth drank a little. She even ate a few bites of toast. Lexie dimmed the light and pulled a chair over by the bed so she could sit and hold Beth’s hand.

  Beth never closed her eyes. She looked far away. If only Lexie could take this from her. If only she could do something.

  Tears oozed down her face. “Lexie,” she whispered.

  “What sweetheart?”

  “Why did he die? Why didn’t he just live? What difference would it make if he’d just lived? In the whole big scheme of things, why couldn’t he stay here with me and his daddy and his sisters? Why did he have to go and not be with us?”

  Lexie cried. “I don’t know, Beth. I don’t know.”

  “He didn’t live long enough to use up a bar of Ivory soap.”

  Lexie thought she’d crack in two.

  Two months later the girls found a stray kitten in their backyard. They ran in and offered the dear little thing to their Mommy to try and make her happy.

  “Can we call him Willie?” Halley asked.

  “No dear, we can’t call him Willie, but we can pick a nice name.”

  Elmo became a cherished member of the family. They found out too late he was a she, but Elmo didn’t mind. She always purred the loudest while being rocked in Beth’s arms.

  Lexie helped her mother put the groceries away. The doorbell rang and Mom went to answer it. She talked to someone, then walked back into the kitchen with the most glorious arrangement of flowers. They must have cost a small fortune.

  “Look at these.”

  “My God, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Who are they from?”

  Mom put the flowers down and stared at the card, then put it in her pocket.

  “A secret admirer?”

  “It’s for all of us, actually. From Gabby.”

  Lexie didn’t move.

  “When did you get a hold of her?”

  Mom averted her eyes. “Only a few days ago. She was in Japan. That’s why we couldn’t get in touch with her about Willie.”

  “This is the nineties, Mother. They invented the cell phone long ago.”

  “Even in today’s world, Lexie, if someone doesn’t want to be found, they won’t be.”

  “Well. Isn’t she clever? How convenient for her to have the time of her life while we’re in a prison of complete and utter horror.”

  She had to sit. She was weary, with everything and everyone.

  “I know this is hard for you dear. It’s hard for all of us. Gabby couldn’t know this happened. She didn’t even know he was born. She didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “She didn’t? She gets away with everything. She always runs away. She never has to deal with anything, unless it’s something she wants for herself.”

  Mom spoke up in her best teacher voice. “Listen to me. You have the satisfaction of knowing you helped Beth during the worst moments of her life. Gabby will never have that privilege and she will be the poorer for it.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. You have a heart of gold Lexie. I’m proud of you and Kate for being so kind to your sister. Beth never would have come through this horrible tragedy without our help. If you must know I feel sorry for Gabby.”

  “Sorry? Isn’t she doing exactly what she wants? She and Adrian together in bloody Japan, no doubt drunk on their own pleasure.”

  Her mother watched her very carefully as she spoke. “Adrian and Gabby are no longer together.”

  Oh God. The news took a moment to sink in.

  “Did you know this all along? Have you been in touch with her since the beginning?”

  “No. She told me when I called about the baby. When she finally answered the phone.”

  Lexie tried to get her head around it. “
Then why hasn’t she come home?”

  “She’s afraid of you.”

  Lexie lit a fire when she got home. She put on some music and opened a big bottle of wine. She and Sophie sat together and sulked. She finished the bottle in no time.

  She had to face the nasty realization that Adrian didn’t come back because he was in love with Gabby. He just didn’t come back because of her. All this time, she thought he was a snake for leaving with her sister, and then it turns out he did the same thing to her. Or maybe she left him. It wouldn’t surprise her—she did it all the time.

  What a sucker I was. Maybe that was his shtick. That’s how he got around. He charmed the birds out of the trees for poor pathetic fat girls and when he got a little bored with that, he charmed the pants off poor pathetic cute ones. That was it. That was really it. She had to stop brooding about a guy she hardly knew. She had to stop pretending that maybe he’d come back, telling everyone she didn’t care if he came back, but all the while dreaming maybe he would. She had to get on with her life. She didn’t cry. She’d cried enough to last a lifetime. She got mad.

  In late September Susan asked her to go to the Highlands and see the fall colours. A group of friends were headed up for a week’s stay at a campsite with cabins. There would be fiddles, Celtic music, food and lots of liquor.

  Lexie wanted to go badly. She needed to get away from the heartache. But she felt guilty. How could she have a good time when she knew Beth was so sad? She told Susan she better not. Susan was disappointed, mostly for her, but she understood. Lexie mentioned the trip to her mother, who told her to go, but she still didn’t feel right about it.

  The next night, Beth knocked on her door.

  “Hey kiddo! Come on in.”

  It was the first time Beth had been over since the baby died. Lexie took her coat. She sat by the fire while Lexie made the tea. She handed Beth a mug, then took her own and sat in the armchair.

  Lexie looked at her. The girl she grew up with was gone. She lived with a sadness that would never leave her. She knew a place Lexie had never been.

  Beth got to the point.

  “Mom called me. You’ve been invited to go away for a week.”

  “That woman! I didn’t want her to tell you.”

  “I’m glad she did.”

  “Beth, I can’t go. I wouldn’t have a good time. The girls might need me. You might need me.”

  “Lexie, I’d never have made it without you. I love you. But I want you to know something.”

  She nodded.

  “When your child dies and you live to tell about it, nothing matters except the important things. The rest is bullshit. Life and death, that’s all there is.”

  Lexie kept quiet.

  “I won’t waste my time being nice. I’ve no energy for social graces. It sounds mean but I’ve had it with people who are sad all the time. Sad people surround me. They think that’s what I want. I feel lousy everyone secretly hates to have me show up, because then they have to stop being happy.”

  Lexie couldn’t look at her.

  “I know you feel badly for me. But I don’t want you to stop living your life. It makes me feel guilty. This is my journey. This is what my life is. It’s not yours. You’ll never be as sad as I am, because you weren’t his mother.”

  She looked into the fire. “Someone asked me the other day, would I rather he’d never been born, than to suffer through his death like this. You know what I said?”

  Lexie shook her head.

  “Some people live their whole life and never have love. Willie was adored by all of us. He was loved every second of his life and if ten weeks had to be his lifetime, I’m so glad I was his mother. My girls are the joy of my life Lexie, but my boy was my greatest gift.”

  Lexie put her hand up to cover her eyes.

  “So will you go and have a wonderful time? Please. Please Lexie. Do it for me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lexie and Susie threw enough stuff into Betsy that they could have lived in the woods for a year. They had everything. More importantly, they spent a fortune at the liquor commission.

  Sue fingered a huge bottle of bubbly wine. “What do you think, Lex?”

  “I don’t think it’s enough. Buy two.”

  “Okey dokey. How about beer?” They put their wine in the cart and roared over to the beer section.

  “How many cases?”

  “Two.” They dumped those in as well. “What about coolers? We should get some of those. How many packs?

  “Two.”

  “What’s my name, Lex?”

  “Two.”

  Lexie dropped Susie off at the grocery store while she went for gas. Susie jumped out of the front seat. “You don’t have to tell me.” She bought two of everything.

  They packed sleeping bags and warm woollies, and off they went. Susie bought a CD with their favourite songs from high school on it. They sang at the top of their lungs as they chugged up Smokey, a mountain almost as menacing as the one Adrian screamed down.

  The view was out of this world. The blue ocean twinkled as far as the eye could see. The road was steep and so close to the edge of the cliff that, despite the guard rail, it felt as if there was only empty space beyond the edge. They drove as if on a tightrope. Lexie hugged the centreline around the hairpin turns. Cars driving in the opposite direction did the same. They could read the lips of drivers as they swore at them when they passed in a cloud of black smoke from the burning brake pads.

  Susie had a great time. She’d yell out the window, “Same to you buddy!”

  For some unknown reason they talked about spitting. Susie told her the different techniques her brothers used. They experimented with disastrous results. They agreed guys were stupid.

  Finally they saw the sign that lead into their campsite. They pulled onto a dirt road and came to a clearing. There were ten cars there already.

  “Oh my God. Did you know she’d be here?”

  Susie groaned. “Of course not. Isn’t that typical? She didn’t tell us on purpose. What a weirdo.”

  Donalda waved to them. They could have spit.

  Lexie put Betsy in park. “Well, I won’t let her ruin my good time.” They ran out to greet everyone. They knew most of the crowd, but there were enough new faces to make life interesting.

  The cabins were scattered under a canopy of fir trees. Everyone claimed the ones closest to the mess hall. Lexie and Sue were the last to arrive, so they ended up with the cabin nearest the beach, which suited Lexie fine. She was soon sorry it was so far away.

  Lexie had a huge load of camping supplies in her arms. Items dropped left and right with every step. “Help me.”

  “I can’t. I have the beer cooler and, quite frankly, it’s more important.”

  Somehow they hobbled back and forth to Betsy and slowly piled their stuff in the cabin. They looked at each other.

  “I don’t think this is how it’s suppose to look.”

  A pyramid of gigantic proportions stood in the middle of the cabin floor.

  “Shall we sort it?” Susie wondered.

  “Nah.”

  They took off at a run. Then had to come back. They forgot the beer.

  The guys had a big barbecue going in no time. Everyone put their contributions on the grill.

  Donalda made a huge production about the fact that she was a vegetarian. “I don’t eat meat. It’s barbaric. I’ll have my tofu burger medium rare.”

  Susie’s brother Tom gave her a look. He and his wife, Patty, were there. Then he looked at something else.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Susie looked where he pointed. “What?”

  “Is this supposed to be a steak?” He picked up one of their small fast-fry minute steaks. He held it up for all to see and wiggled it back and forth from the end of his barbecue fork. “I can see through this! Christ. I sneeze snot bigger than this.”

  They gave him a collective, “Yuck!”

  Lexie lost her appetite alt
ogether. “God, Susan, how did you ever grow up with brothers?”

  “Now you know why I lived at your house.”

  Tom reached into his cooler. He sounded like Crocodile Dundee. “That’s not a steak. This is a steak.” He lifted what looked like the right side of a steer and threw it on the grill. Flame leapt into the air. Serious sizzling was heard everywhere.

  Lexie left. She couldn’t watch it anymore. For the first time in her life, she agreed with Donalda. She needed beer.

  Three hours later, she swayed on a bench, as happy as a clam. Susan told someone she hoped Lexie got bombed—it was just what she needed after such a terrible time.

  “Yes, Susikins, it’s just what I need after such a terrible time.” Lexie opened another beer.

  Luckily someone started feeding her water after awhile, since she didn’t know the difference. She talked and laughed and held her hand up for more.

  “The bonfire’s going!” Everyone teetered off to the beach.

  Lexie blissed out at the fire. She sat in the sand with her back pressed against a huge log, wrapped up in a warm blanket. She watched as the orange flames shot sparks up towards the stars. Waves lapped a short distance away and soothed her. This was the life.

  Then it happened. Voices came from down the beach, headed towards them. There were great whoops of welcome. Tom greeted his friends from Chéticamp. “Look who’s here.”

  Several figures came out of the dark. Lexie saw only one. A tall man shook hands and slapped the backs of those around him. He wore a big sweater that came up to his chin and a jean jacket over it. She could see his silhouette by firelight. He had a mass of black windswept hair that probably never saw a comb, and dark stubble on his face.

  He turned around. She looked at the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

  She watched him the rest of the evening, never saying a word. After he nodded a greeting to them, he went back and chatted with his friends. He stood at the edge of the fire, with a can of beer in his hand.