Seven Days Destinations

by Ruth Hay

  Tonight gathering was in a colourful setting. The women wore summer dresses and casual pants with sleeveless tops and the men were wearing knee-length shorts and shirts with rolled-up sleeves. Wesley decided his long, cotton pants and dress shirt were not the right look and made a plan to shop for the men’s cooler shorts and shirts at the first opportunity in the morning. As ever, his wife looked perfectly composed and in style with her flower-patterned skirt floating around her calves, topped with a white crochet sweater that left her shoulders bare. Zoe was always immaculate, he thought, and Zachary would always be in fashion if his mother had anything to do with it.

  The dining room was open to another of the wide balconies so the group could go in and out as they wished. Both the room and the balcony benefited from planters stuffed full of lovely flowers and greenery. Comfortable seats were available everywhere.

  Aylward was presiding over the celebration in true patriarch style, but it was not a formal occasion. Everyone wanted a chance to talk to Zoe and Wesley so groups formed and reformed constantly. Conversation flowed easily as the food and wine were passed around by a deft catering crew who soon disappeared, leaving a table of delectable desserts and jugs of tea, coffee and milk for the children. Zachary had been included in the guest list along with Louise and Jason’s little daughter, Marianne.

  Her great-grandmother happily took the two children off for cookies and milk and playtime. She slid a wheeled shelf out from beneath a credenza on which were a plethora of toys and puzzles and games to keep the children occupied while the adults got reacquainted.

  Zoe and Louise exchanged notes about babywear stores, and places to see that were suitable for children, then Devon interrupted to ask Zoe if she had particular businesses she might be interested in visiting. He offered himself as guide, hinting that they should start with a tour of the Tech Hub where he suggested she would be impressed with Portia’s progress in the Art and Design sector.

  Zoe looked across the table at Portia on the mention of her name, and had to struggle to remember the pale, tortured soul she had first met in Mexico. A wholly improved and animated Portia, with short brown curls and sparkling eyes, caught her glance and waved, with a raised eyebrow to indicate they would talk later. She then returned to her conversation with Wesley and Aylward. It was a conversation Zoe knew she would hear about later from her husband.

  Megan Anderson and Terrence Beck were deep in some funny story at the head of the table. Their laughter punctuated the animated expressions of her brother and Megan responded with an ease of attitude that spoke volumes about their new relationship. It was then Zoe noticed Megan’s husband, Maurice, was not in the group. She made a mental note to ask Wes if he knew the story.

  As Devon moved away after promising to phone Zoe to arrange the tour, Abigail slipped into his vacant chair. She began at once to apologize for past actions that had affected the Philips’ but Zoe cut her short.

  “Abi, that is old news. It’s forgotten. No real harm was done. I know you played an important role in your cousin’s recovery. I haven’t spoken to Portia as yet, but judging from what I can see, you must have achieved a minor miracle.”

  “Oh no, Zoe Morton, you don’t get away with that comment. I only tried to continue the work you and your husband had started in Mexico and added to from England with the Skype sessions. In fact, it was Portia who saved me from a dire relationship mistake while she and I were sharing an apartment.”

  “Really? That indicates how far she has come if she can now recognize a man with a motive other than benign. So, what are you doing now, Abi?”

  “Well, I am living on my own since Portia moved back with her mother and it has given me a chance to review the last couple of years and revise my thinking. I have a good position with a magazine that caters to men and women over fifty or so.”

  “Ah, would that be Zoomer, by any chance? I was looking at a copy in our suite and I thought it was most unusual and helpful.”

  “Yes, that’s the one. My grandfather has been instrumental in my success there. I wrote a series of articles for Zoomer about seniors downsizing and resettling in buildings like this one with all the amazing amenities. Gramps put me in touch with friends of his who had good insights into the pros and cons of this style of living. I had several interviews published.”

  “I can’t think of any similar periodicals like Zoomer in England at the moment. What a good idea! We also have a growing population of older folks and downsizing is a hot topic for us.”

  “I’m glad you think so, because I feel I need a fresh start. I have no right to ask, Zoe, but do you think it would be possible for me to take a leave of absence from Zoomer and try to find freelance work in London? I know the media there is quite different from here. I think it would add to my résumé if I could snag some work. I am aiming at television presenting some day and at least I would have a chance to view the British media at close quarters, particularly at such an interesting time in UK history with the Brexit situation causing social unrest in many areas.”

  Zoe was surprised. She took a moment to cast her mind around possible contacts for Abi. She was not a person who would discourage any female who was ambitious, no matter the challenges she might face. Abi deserved encouragement. She had undergone many changes in the last two years.

  “Oh, I hope I haven’t overstepped the mark, Mrs. Philips. I realize I am imposing on your holiday.”

  She made to get up and step away until Zoe spoke again.

  “Wait, Abi. I was doing some mental calculations. Why don’t you apply for the leave from your present job. If you can get it, you could come and work with me in our publicity department for a while until we sort out something more suitable. I have lots of contacts and I happen to have a vacant loft apartment in London you could use. There’s another girl about to move in but you two would be compatible and Marsha could show you around the city.”

  “Oh my God, that’s so incredibly generous of you! I am stunned. You have offered so much more than I dared to hope for. Thank you, thank you. May I give you a hug?”

  “Certainly you can!” Zoe smiled at Abi’s enthusiasm. “Put all the pieces of the plan in place and we’ll keep in touch by Skype like we did for Portia.”

  Abigail Beck jumped up and gave Zoe a big hug before dancing around the table to her father and mother and relaying the news. Everyone’s conversations halted while they listened to Abi’s excited version of Zoe’s offer. They spontaneously clapped and sent thanks over to Zoe.

  Wesley was the only one who was not surprised by his wife’s generosity. He knew she must have recognized something special in Abigail or she would not risk getting involved. It was Zoe’s way of ‘paying it forward’. What she called her ‘obligation’ after the help and support she had been given by others when she was a young girl alone and inexperienced in England’s capital city.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Zoe found Jillian and Terrence sitting on either side of her. She had heard from Marian about the success of their restaurant, ‘Beckoning Cuisine’, and from what she could now see, the couple were making a success of their marriage as well as their work partnership.

  “Oh, I believe I saw an ad for your restaurant on the closed-circuit television this afternoon? Am I correct?” Zoe had awakened before Wesley or Zachary, and propped herself up on pillows with a remote control in her hand, to watch television. She was gaining an understanding of Canadian media from the advertising she was seeing on screen. She also wondered about the advisability of having something so disruptive as a television set in one’s bedroom. Was it really so important to hear the local news and weather every fifteen minutes?

  “Yes, indeed!” replied Terrence with some pride. “It’s the latest advertising campaign from Devon’s group. Dad insists on our adverts being displayed in this building. He is on the Residents’ Committee nowadays and it has given him a number of new interests. I think it takes him back to his days as head of a university department
with everyone listening to the pearls of wisdom falling from his mouth.”

  Jillian elbowed her husband in the ribs and frowned in his direction. She was clearly sensitive to what was said about her father-in-law, especially here in his spacious condominium building.

  “Never mind that, Terry! It has obviously suited your father very well.”

  Zoe noticed Jillian’s smooth cap of hair twisted in a French roll at the back and her beautiful indigo dress which fitted her slender figure to perfection. She was just thinking how pleasant it would be to spend more time with Jillian and Terry when the opportunity arose.

  “Zoe, when we can entertain both you and Wesley at the restaurant this week? You will have so much to see and do. We want to make sure we are high on your priority list. Did you have many places you have decided to visit?”

  “Well, Jillian, I am interested in the view from that CN Tower everyone talks about, but I doubt Wesley will follow me there. There’s an old fort near here that would be interesting and I believe there’s an exceptional exhibit of glass art at the museum.”

  “You must see that for sure. It’s quite unforgettable, and so is the afternoon tea served in the newest section of the ROM. Anything else on your itinerary?”

  “Can we reach Niagara Falls from Toronto?”

  “Absolutely! If you like, we can take you there. We have excellent staff working for us and we can take a day off now and then, which, as you can imagine, is a real benefit in the business world. We recently moved downtown to be nearer to the restaurant and to Louise and little Marianne.”

  “She is delightful, Jillian. You must be very happy being so near your grandchild. Zach is playing so well with her. It’s a pleasure to see them together.”

  Jillian noticed her husband chatting to Devon on his other side and leaned closer to Zoe to whisper in her ear. “There’s going to be a wedding soon. Jason proposed before the baby was born but Louise wanted to wait until she could fit into a white dress and have Marianne as a flower girl. I suspect Abi will be carrying the flower girl as they are planning a late fall wedding.”

  “That’s lovely for all of you and particularly special for Aylward and Marian.”

  “Yes, it is. There were many times when I could not have imagined all of us together like this. I guess it’s true what people say about never giving up hope and waiting to see what’s around the corner.

  It definitely worked out for our family. It takes a lot of hard work of course, but doesn’t everything?”

  Zoe considered Jillian’s optimism. There was something to be said for moving ahead with hope. Nothing much was ever accomplished without that hopeful attitude.

  She looked around the room full of Beck family members, joking and talking with each other. Her eye settled on Zachary sitting comfortably beside Marianne and holding out a toy bear for her to share.

  She thought of her own childhood with its tensions and silences culminating in a dreadful suicide. Wesley’s childhood was not much better. She remembered Wes talking about his close friendship with Max and how they clung together throughout their schooldays as two oddballs who found it hard to fit in with other groups. Max had married Alecia, moved to the States and they had three or four children.

  The idea was firmly developing in her mind; children make families. Children, plural, make generations to come. Valerie, Sandra and now Corinne, were blessed with grandchildren. What if Zachary never found a partner? There would be no grandchildren for Wesley to enjoy in his old age.

  Zoe Morton-Philips, in the midst of a noisy family occasion, far from Dunstan’s Close and her secure environment, suddenly looked ahead to her old age and she wanted the comfort and solace of little ones who called her Grandma, or Nana, or Granny, or anything else at all. She wanted this more than she had ever wanted success in the business world. Her realistic brain told her it was logical to wish for this now when she had already achieved great success in her business field. Was it simply the search for the next big ambition that drove her? Or was it some more basic need and desire?

  She looked around and caught a glance from Wesley. He was stifling a yawn. It was a signal to leave the party soon. It had been a very long and busy day; a truly wonderful day full of promise, full of new things and places with much more to come during their stay.

  Marian Beck had been watching for this moment. She signalled to Portia and before the Philips’ could depart she called the group’s attention and gave Portia the floor.

  “You all know how much I owe to Zoe and Wesley. I am not denying the importance of the efforts made by every one of you here tonight toward my recovery.” Portia looked from one face to another with a special smile for each member of her family. “Nevertheless, if the Philips’ had not put me on the road to mental health, I doubt very much if I would be standing here.”

  The room grew quiet as the truth of her remarks sunk in.

  “So!” she said, with a gesture to her grandmother who pulled out a painting hidden behind some furniture. “I wish to present this painting to Zoe and Wesley as a reminder of someone they both helped immeasurably. I hope it will find a place in their home and in their hearts because it is made with love.”

  Portia’s painting was a smaller version of the glorious, verdant, garden scene Zoe and Wesley had admired earlier in the day in the senior Becks’ apartment.

  They both went over to Portia to thank her profusely and to take a close look at the artistry the girl had infused into the painting.

  “It’s truly amazing, Portia! We will treasure it.”

  Amidst applause, Devon appeared and insisted he would have the painting professionally packaged for them and sent to their home to save the trouble of taking it home on a plane.

  * * *

  Portia’s painting was a fitting end to a wonderful day.

  Wesley bent down to pick up his son. He thanked Marian for her care of the children and then he made his way through the room to where his wife waited. She saw them coming nearer and a wave of pure joy swept over her. It felt as if her confidence in her capabilities as wife and mother had returned in full force. Nothing was impossible from here on. Nothing.

  She had a sudden vivid memory of the day when she and Wesley first knew she was pregnant.

  Had she not made some promise to her husband in that moment, about his chance to name their second child? She wondered if he remembered.

  She watched as he made their farewells to the Becks and whispered thanks for their hospitality over the head of a drowsy Zachary.

  Wesley Philips crouched down to kiss his lovely wife and gently placed a sleeping son in her lap. He saw something new in the depth of her dark eyes; something he could not interpret. But then, Zoe Morton-Philips was a woman whose mystery he would never quite fathom.

  That was, undoubtedly, the very best part of being married to her.

  Also by Ruth Hay

  Visit www.ruthhay.com for links to all of Ruth’s stories: the Prime Time series, the Seafarers series, and the Seven Days series!

  * * *

  Prime Time Series

  Auld Acquaintance

  Time Out of Mind

  Now or Never

  Sand in the Wind

  With This Ring

  The Seas Between Us

  Return to Oban: Anna’s Next Chapter

  Seafarers Series

  Sea Changes

  Sea Tides

  Gwen’s Gentleman

  * * *

  Seven Days Series

  Seven Days There

  Seven Days Back

  Seven Days Beyond

  Seven Days Away

  Seven Days Horizons

  Seven Days Destinations

  About the Author

  Ruth Hay published the first two novels in her Prime Time Series in the fall of 2010. Since then, this retired teacher-librarian and university teacher has produced two sequels each year. In 2013 the sixth title brought Prime Time to a close, and she started the Seafarers series. In 2015, the S
even Days series continued her tradition of writing compelling women’s fiction for discerning readers.

  Ruth would love to hear from you! Ruth would love to hear from you!

  www.ruthhay.com

  ruthhay@rogers.com

  Copyright

  Ruth Hay 2016

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