Relative Happiness

by Lesley Crewe

  “Honey, you’re in the hospital.”

  “Why?”

  “You were very, very tired, Lexie.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember anything?”

  She remembered she drank out of a warm cup. It felt good.

  “Not really.”

  “Well, that’s all right. Listen, honey, I want you to go to sleep now, okay? Everything is fine. I want you to sleep in and I’ll be right here when you wake up.” She reached out and stroked her cheek and brow.

  Mom is here. That’s good. She closed her eyes.

  Mom was there when she opened her eyes, just like she said she’d be. She held her hand. They didn’t talk, just sat, like she and Dad used to. It was dusk outside, and the room was dark. Lexie heard people walk up and down the halls. She was content to lie still.

  “Mom.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Lillian Holmes bring me here?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I’ll always be grateful to her for helping you. You are more important than anything else.”

  “Okay.”

  When she woke up again later, Beth was there. She was so pretty, even with her sad eyes.

  “Hi.”

  Beth smiled. “Wake up sleepyhead. It must be nice for some, to lollygag in bed all day.”

  “Sorry.”

  Beth grabbed her hand. She looked frightened. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t get sick, Lexie. I couldn’t bear it if you got sick.” She looked like she did the day they played hide and seek in the woods by the cottage. Beth lost her way for a few minutes, panicked and called Lexie’s name over and over. When Lexie found her, Beth was shaking.

  “I’m not sick, Beth.”

  “What happened then?”

  “I’m weary. That’s all. Just weary. I haven’t slept well since Dad died. And believe it or not, I haven’t eaten that well either.”

  “You’ve got to take care of yourself, Lex. This whole family would fall apart if you weren’t around.”

  “Oh, pooh.” Lexie laughed. “The only medicine I need right now is to see my baby boy.”

  The day she was to go home, Lexie sat on the end of the bed and looked through her get well cards. There was a soft knock on the door. She looked up and there was Lillian.

  “May I come in for a moment?”

  “Yes.”

  Lillian walked about halfway into the room and stopped. She looked unsure, but was perfectly composed. She was a striking woman, about five years younger than her mother.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Lexie was calm. “I’m better.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Thank you for your help. I don’t remember everything, but Mom told me.”

  “I’m glad I was there to help.”

  Lexie didn’t know what else to say.

  “I wanted to let you know, Lexie, that I’m leaving Glace Bay. I found another position in a hospital outside of Ottawa.” Lillian hesitated. “I think your life will be much easier when I’m not here. So will your mother’s. I deeply regret the hurt I’ve caused your mother. And you of course. I never wanted that. Your father never had any intention of leaving your mother for me.”

  Lillian paled and glanced down at the floor. “Your father and I were good friends. He spent a great deal of time talking about his girls. You in particular.”

  Lexie looked at her but didn’t say anything.

  She looked up. “He said he loved all his daughters, but he had a special bond with you. He loved the fact that you had his mother’s name. But he worried about you, too. He said you were the one who felt the pain, everyone’s pain, and you were the one who tried to fix it.” She paused. “He loved you very much, Lexie.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I said goodbye to him that day in the cemetery. I’d like to think maybe I was there for a reason. He’d be glad I was there when you needed someone.”

  “Yes. He would.”

  “Goodbye Lexie.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Mom fussed. She was in Lexie’s kitchen trying to find the electric mixer, rooting through the shelves underneath the counter. Lexie watched her and laughed to herself. Josh was on the floor, playing with his trucks.

  “These shelves are a mess. How on earth do you find anything around here?”

  “It’s my mess, so I know exactly where things are. What do you want the mixer for?”

  “I want to make lemon pudding. I need to beat the egg whites,” She finally spied the missing implement.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes I do. You need to eat something, get some meat on your bones.”

  “Someone run for a tape recorder! This is a first: Mom wants me to eat.”

  She gave Lexie a dirty look, then smirked. “All right, point taken.”

  Lexie was still on medical leave from work. She’d go back soon. Mom took over, moving into the house, running after Josh, making the meals and doing the wash. She barrelled around as if she had all the energy in the world. Lexie felt guilty until Beth told her to shut up and be grateful. “Mom’s in her element. She’s taken charge and has a mission.”

  She did seem brighter, Lexie had to admit, not as unhappy or lonely anymore. It was like Beth said: There’s nothing like a child in trouble to galvanize a mother into action.

  Dr. Chow didn’t like the term “nervous breakdown.” He said simply that her glass was full and she spilled over. He called for rest, talk, and an anti-depressant to help her recover from the losses in her life. Lexie asked him why Beth hadn’t had a breakdown—she had more to grieve than Lexie did. He said everyone was wired differently. And Beth had her husband, who was a tremendous support.

  A part of her felt a failure. She couldn’t cope with her life, it seemed. She must have done something wrong. Other people didn’t agonize over everything. Why couldn’t she?

  Christmas came, and with it the snow. Two storms, one after the other, pounded the East Coast. The wind blew the snow into huge drifts, before heading out to sea toward Newfoundland. Glace Bay was a picture postcard, small colourful houses blanketed in clean white cover, occasional black smoke rising from coal stoves, the sounds of civilization muted.

  Small chickadees and sparrows flitted among the naked tree branches, waiting for their bird feeders to be swept off and breakfast delivered, while seagulls stood at attention on the eaves of houses to warm their webbed feet. The ducks along Renwick Brook gathered at the edge of the water, hunched over like teenagers sneaking a smoke during lunch hour.

  While the main arteries were being cleared, side streets were still blocked and people emerged from their houses one by one dressed in bulky jackets and mitts to start digging themselves out.

  Lexie was outside with her shovel. Josh had his shovel too, but it was hard for him to move his arms in his snowsuit. He wandered around the yard, lost in his own world. Sophie was the smart one. She sat in the window and watched from her cosy vantage point by the fire.

  Lexie’s closest neighbour was Archie Archibald. He was an old character who loved nothing better than to shovel all day, so Lexie made sure she delivered a couple of loaves of homemade bread to him on a regular basis.

  Sure enough, she wasn’t out for more then twenty minutes before Archie stomped his way through the snow to her driveway, a shovel over his shoulder.

  “Right cold today, bye,” he said cheerfully.

  “Hi Archie. How many driveways have you cleared so far?”

  “Started at Myrtle’s, but by Christ that one’s got a gob on her. Hollerin’ from the back step she was, tellin’ me how to shovel.” He shook his head.

  Lexie smiled. “You must be glad you never married, Archie.”

  “Dodged a bullet there, girl.”

  The three of them had the driveway done in no time. Lexie tried to convin
ce Archie to come in for a hot chocolate, but he’d have none of it. He was off to the widow Maxwell.

  On Christmas Eve, Lexie was at her mother’s making cranberry punch for Beth, Rory, Kate and Daphne, when Mom came in the kitchen to put more gingerbread men on a plate. She sighed as she opened the cookie tin.

  “I wish Gabby were here.”

  She no sooner had the words out of her mouth than they heard the back door open.

  “Merry Christmas!” Gabby yelled.

  Mom ran to the door, with everyone was right behind her. They all tried to hug each other at the same time, while the kids jumped around them like fleas.

  “I couldn’t spend this Christmas without you guys,” Gabby smiled. “A friend filled in for me at the last minute.”

  Rory looked at his watch. “I hate to break this up but we better get cracking—church is at six.”

  They laughed and talked as they poured out of the house, joining a hundred other families milling into church at the same time.

  The kids were beyond excited, and had a hard time staying in their seats. The minister finally called them up to the altar for the children’s talk. Michaela took Josh by the hand and followed her sisters. Reverend Higgins lost control in the first five minutes. His voice couldn’t be heard over the din of forty children hopped up on Santa Claus juice. There was a fight over who would hold baby doll Jesus.

  Beth hid her eyes, then peeked at Lexie. “I don’t want to look. Is it one of mine?”

  Lexie nodded her head.

  “Maddie?”

  “How did you guess?”

  Christmas morning, Joshua actually slept in. At seven-thirty, Lexie tip-toed out of the spare room and found Mom, Kate, Daphne and Gabby standing in the hall with their slippers and bathrobes on.

  “Merry Christmas, you guys.”

  “Merry Christmas!” they whispered.

  “I thought you said Josh was an early riser?” Kate pouted.

  “Well, he didn’t go to bed until ten o’clock, the poor kid,” Lexie pointed out. “I’ve been lying in there since six, willing him to open his eyes, but he’s still snoring.”

  They stood around like five kids dying for their parents to wake up. While they waited, Gabby suddenly whispered, “Knock knock.”

  “Who’s there?” everyone whispered back.

  “Santa.”

  “Santa who?” everyone said.

  “You don’t know who Santa Claus is?”

  The five of them broke up and the harder they tried to keep quiet, the louder they got. Poor Josh opened the door with that stunned sleepy-head look, and was so startled, he promptly burst into tears. They all rushed to cuddle him, which only made things worse. Lexie eventually brought him downstairs in her arms, his thumb in his mouth and his head on her shoulder. When he saw the tree, his face lit up.

  Mom started getting the turkey ready as soon as they finished breakfast. Kate and Daphne, who went to a creative cooking class every Tuesday night, were trying to convince her to try a new stuffing recipe. “It’s wonderful, Mom,” Kate enthused. “It’s got chestnuts and walnuts and saffron rice and all kinds of goodies. It was a big hit in class, wasn’t it Daphne?”

  “Oh, gosh, it sure was. There wasn’t a smidgen of it left at the end of the lesson.” They looked at each other and beamed happily.

  Rory, Beth and the girls arrived later in the afternoon and the family sat down to their Christmas dinner. Mom carried in a fat golden turkey on an heirloom platter and put it on the table. They all said how nice it looked, and that’s when the realization hit them that Dad was really gone.

  They looked at each other. Mom recovered first. “Rory, dear. Would you do the honours?” She passed him her husband’s carving set. Rory looked at Beth and she nodded her head slightly.

  Rory stood up. “Of course. Who wants the drumstick?”

  Dinner was delicious, except for the dressing. Rory was disappointed. As he helped Lexie clear the table he sidled up to her by the sink.

  “Excuse me while I run to my mother’s and wolf down some normal stuffing, the kind the whole world’s had right about now. Lucky sods.”

  Lexie put her finger to her lips. “Shh. Kate would be devastated if she knew.”

  “How can she not know,” Rory whispered. “No one ate it.”

  “Beth and I grabbed it off everyone’s plate every time they weren’t looking. The kids helped.” She showed him the huge blob of dressing wrapped in some napkins before she threw it in the garbage.

  “That’s where it belongs.” Rory went back to get more dishes.

  Gabby came in with another load of plates. Lexie filled the sink with hot soapy water. Gabby grabbed a tea towel out of a drawer and stood beside her. They smiled at each other.

  “Are you okay, Gab?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Still lonely?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me too.”

  Once things were cleared away, Rory brought out a gift he’d picked up for Josh: two plastic hockey sticks just his size and a soft puck. They played hockey in the living room. The girls were miffed because they weren’t included. Joshua got so excited he took the stick and shot the puck into the top of the Christmas tree. Rory said he would be in the NHL by the time he was seven. Josh gave him his lopsided grin.

  Rory took Lexie aside. “You know, if ever Josh wants to play hockey or baseball, I’d love to get him some equipment and take him to his games.”

  Here was a man. Josh wouldn’t grow up without someone. She gave Rory a big squeeze.

  Lexie and her mom and sisters went out to the cemetery while Rory and Daphne watched The Little Mermaid with the kids.

  The snow was undisturbed, except for the small rabbit paw prints that wound around and through the headstones. The chime they placed on the branch of the birch tree over Dad’s grave tinkled in the wind. It was almost twilight. Smooth and glassy ice had formed over the sandbar. They swept snow off the headstone and placed their Christmas arrangement of pine, berries and holly in front of it.

  They knelt down and told him how much they loved him and how much they missed him and to thank him for being the best dad in the whole world. They kissed their fingers and pressed them into the snow so they would melt into the ground above him.

  Lexie and her sisters walked away and left Mom to say her private goodbye. She stood in that peaceful place where her husband lay. Lexie glanced back. Her mother looked so alone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gabby sat and looked out the window. It rained, a dreary day. She watched people hurry along, big black umbrellas that bobbed like buoys on the water. The rain hit the window and it was a lonely sound. It always had been for Gabby. As a kid, she had hated the sound of rain on the cottage roof.

  She had the phone number in her hand. It wasn’t hard to find Adrian, once she knew he was in Montreal, but it took a long time to gather up the courage to speak to him. She assumed Adrian hadn’t called out to Lexie because he thought she was married, or at least in love with someone. He had seen Joshua, after all. What didn’t make sense was that he didn’t get in touch with Lexie after he left Toronto. Did he think Lexie would hate him forever for his betrayal? Gabby had no idea. She couldn’t think anymore.

  She dialled the number. She didn’t know what she’d say. She just knew she had to do something. She owed it to Lexie.

  A crisp formal voice said, “Davenport Residence. Mrs. Phillips speaking. How may I help you?”

  Was she a secretary? Was this his house?

  “Yes, hello. May I speak to Adrian, please?”

  “Whom shall I say is calling?”

  This caught Gabby off guard. “A friend.”

  “Certainly. One moment please.”

  She was put on hold. Just a few more moments. She should hang up. She couldn’t do—

  “Hello?”

  Her heart leapt to her throat. His voice was in her ear, so close.

  “Adrian?”
>
  “Yes?…Gabby, is that you?”

  She didn’t speak. She didn’t dare.

  “Gabby.”

  “Yes.” It was a whisper.

  “Oh, my God. Where are you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She talked as if reading from a script for the first time.

  “Gabby. I’m so sorry for everything. Please believe me.”

  “I wanted to call you and tell you Lexie isn’t married.”

  There was a pause. “Lexie? This is about Lexie?”

  “Yes.”

  “I saw her in Montreal. She had a baby with her. It was such a—”

  “She still loves you.” Gabby had her hand in a tight fist as she tried to remember what she was supposed to say. “There’s no need for you to stay away from her now.”

  “Gabby, you have to listen to me. I know I hurt you and Lexie very badly. I need to explain. I was in a bad way then. But I’ve sorted things out—”

  “Look, I can’t talk to you Adrian. We’re in the past. I’ve sorted things out too. I’ve moved on with my life. I’m in love with someone else.” She had to swallow. “I’m glad things are better for you. I just wanted you to know about Lexie, because I know you love her and I want to make up for the hurt I caused you both.”

  “Gabby—”

  “Call her. Goodbye Adrian.”

  She hung up the phone and let go of it as if it were too hot to hold. She stared at nothing. She felt nothing, until she tried to open her fist. It was stuck together with blood from her fingernails pressing into her flesh.

  Adrian lay on his bed. It was the middle of the night, pitch black except for the nightlight outside Binti’s room. He couldn’t sleep, so he heard her the minute it started.

  Her screams were bad this time. He leapt up and raced into her room. She sat up and stared at the wall in front of her.

  “It’s okay, baby. Papa’s here.” He reached for her and she put her arms around his neck. He sat on the bed and snuggled her close. The screams stopped but her cries kept her hot and agitated. Adrian took the small face cloth he kept by her bed, dipped it in a basin and wiped her face.

  “Shh. You’re alright. Papa won’t leave you.”

  The girl’s breathing slowed as her tiny shoulders shuttered with the last of her sobs. She stayed glued to his chest. Adrian rocked her.