Kin

by Lesley Crewe

  “Too tired to make another baby?”

  Kay turned around to face him. “That’s all I am to you, isn’t it? You want baby after baby and you don’t care how I feel about it.”

  “You said you wanted a big family.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  David sat up. “How can you change your mind without consulting me?”

  Kay sat up too. “You do it all the time.”

  “I do?”

  Kay groaned and flopped back on her pillow. “You always seem so surprised when I point out your behaviour. I can’t figure out if you’re very stupid or very clever.”

  David crawled on top of her. “I must be a very clever man—I married you, didn’t I? I can’t help it if I love you and want your babies. They’re so darn cute.”

  Kay smirked. “Oh, here it comes. You’ll charm me into submission.”

  David kissed her neck and nuzzled her ear. “Is it working?”

  She put her arms around him. “You do love me, don’t you?”

  “What a ridiculous question.”

  * * *

  September of 1954 saw the Pratt twins start school. John and Daniel were happy to go to primary. They told George how much he was going to miss, but in typical two-year-old fashion, George didn’t care. Annie did. Little did her sons know the horrors that lay in wait for them.

  Annie couldn’t sleep the night before their first day, and Henry couldn’t either; she was up and down like a yo-yo.

  “What are you so nervous about? They’ll be fine.”

  “They’re bigger than most five-year-olds. The teacher will be harder on them, you watch. And you know what they’re like. John will push someone and Daniel will join in. It’s going to be a disaster.”

  Henry rubbed his eyes. “Every kid in the history of the world has survived their year in primary. I’m sure ours will too.”

  “Spoken like a true man.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  “Did you have a bad experience in school or something? You’re anticipating the worst before they’ve even darkened the door of the classroom.”

  “I hated school.”

  Henry fluffed his pillow and turned away from her. “Don’t let the boys know that.”

  Annie sighed and laid down in the dark. “Do we have any bananas downstairs?”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Can’t I have a banana for bananas’ sake?”

  “Nothing is that simple with you.”

  The boys were up at six and working themselves into a lather of excitement. Annie had given them both a bath the night before, but she scrubbed their faces, necks, and hands anyway. On went their new plaid shirts and sweater vests, ironed pants, and shiny shoes. Annie never dressed them alike. She preferred to see them as two separate entities and not as halves of a whole.

  Henry gave them their breakfast as Annie got herself and George dressed for the procession to school. Both grandmothers were insisting on coming too. Joy would have her enormous camera and make everyone stand still for minutes on end while she fussed with it.

  Joy and Mom walked in the back door just as Annie made it downstairs with George on her hip. Henry put the boys’ school bags on their backs and handed them their Lone Ranger lunch boxes. Then Annie made the boys take off their school bags and put down their Lone Ranger lunch boxes to go upstairs and brush their teeth.

  Finally they were on their way. Henry waved them goodbye before he went into his office. It was a lovely day, perfect for walking, or for running up and down the sidewalk. Annie had George in the large bouncy stroller. It could be converted back into a pram if she needed it. Maybe she did need it. Was there a banana sale anywhere? All these silly thoughts to chase away the fact that her first-born sons were now going to spend most of their days in a stuffy building with germy kids. Annie felt slightly sick.

  There were plenty of other first-time moms hanging about the school yard, waving goodbye to their offspring. As Annie had predicted, Joy made the boys stand still so she could take a picture. Then she wanted a picture of herself with the boys. Annie grabbed the camera and took the stupid picture. Joy suggested Annie and her mother might like to be in one, but Annie had had enough.

  “They have to go. Say goodbye.”

  Both grandmothers knelt down and said goodbye to their little men, telling them to have a great time and make lots of new friends. Then Annie took them by the hands and walked with them over to the school steps. She could do this. They weren’t going to Siberia. They would be home this afternoon. It would be all right.

  No, it wouldn’t.

  The minute Annie leaned over and gave them both a kiss; they hung onto her legs and cried their hearts out.

  “I don’t want to go, Mommy!” Daniel wailed. “I want to stay with you.”

  “I don’t like this place,” John sobbed. “I have a tummy ache.”

  Oh God. The mothers of boys gave Annie sympathetic looks. The mothers of girls looked smug. Their little angels were so ready for school they had their pencil cases and rulers out.

  Both grandmothers were wringing their hands and looking distressed. Even George seemed worried. They were no bloody help. What she needed was someone to slap her and/or the boys. She took a deep breath and knelt between them.

  “I want the two of you to stop this nonsense right now. You’re going to have a great time and Mommy will be here to pick you up after school. Do you understand?”

  They shook their heads. “No, Mommy. Don’t go!” they cried in unison.

  Annie wanted to pick them up and run home. Instead she took them by the hands and literally dragged them into the school, all the while telling them what fun it was going to be. Annie was surprised a bolt of lightning didn’t strike her dead for lying to her children.

  The primary teacher had the look of someone who’d been through the wars. She was no-nonsense and took in Annie’s situation with a quick glance.

  “For goodness’ sake! We have twins this year. How exciting! The children will be very happy to see you boys. You come with me and we’ll have a jolly time.”

  Both boys were still wailing as she shut the classroom door. Annie ran out of the building and burst into tears. That’s when she knew for sure Henry had knocked her up. She marched over to her entourage and sniffed, “I have to buy some bananas.”

  * * *

  In the two years since Ewan and Lila married, their family had expanded too. There were now three goats, a couple of sheep, a donkey, and two terrifying geese who thought they owned the joint. The horses and cows enjoyed the company, but the chickens were miffed about the geese. So were the cats, but good old Fred and Willy loved everybody.

  So did Uncle Joe. Lila had never seen him so happy. He whistled from morning until night, feeding the critters and mucking out the barn. She and Ewan and Uncle Joe were always bone weary at the end of the day, but it was a good tired.

  Much worse was going in to see Aunt Eunie, which Lila did more frequently now that Eunie didn’t recognize anyone. Lila’s stomach always turned a little when she walked into the nursing home. The smell of urine and feces was never quite erased, no matter how clean the place was, and the air felt thick. The patients’ pain and loneliness seemed to seep out of them and waft down the halls. It was difficult to see the old men and women sitting in wheelchairs with their mouths agape, their lunch splattered down the front of their bathrobes or blouses, and even harder to cope with the hostile looks from some of the residents, as if she were responsible for putting them there.

  Aunt Eunie was confined to her bed. She was wasting away and didn’t look like Aunt Eunie anymore. Lila was sure Eunie would be horrified if she knew what was happening to her. She’d always been so dignified and kind-hearted. Lila missed her.

  One Sunday Lila came in with some fl
owers from the garden. She put them in the vase she’d left on the windowsill and filled it with water. After she placed them on the side table so her aunt could see them, she whispered, “It’s me, Aunt Eunie. I’ve come to see how you are today.”

  Aunt Eunie was usually asleep and didn’t respond, but today her eyes opened. They looked glassy and vague, but when she reached out her bony hand Lila took it, whereupon Aunt Eunie began to shake it. Lila couldn’t believe the strength in a hand that was nothing but sinew and bone.

  “It’s good to see you,” Lila said.

  Aunt Eunie moaned and tried to talk, her mouth opening and closing like a guppy. Tears ran down from her eyes. Lila didn’t know what to do.

  Luckily a nurse came in to check on her.

  “She’s crying.”

  The nurse smiled. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it, Eunie? That means she knows you’re here.”

  “But…”

  “Crying often means happy. She knows you’re here and she’s responding to you. That means she’s having a good day. Don’t worry.” The nurse left.

  It didn’t feel like Aunt Eunie was having a good day, but Lila put on a brave face. “I love you, Aunt Eunie. Uncle Joe will be in tomorrow and Ewan will be in the day after. We’re very busy with the farm and the animals. You’d love it there. I’m making goat milk soap and selling it at the market, and I’ve been spinning wool from our sheep. Ewan sells his vegetables and milk. Uncle Joe is an expert with the chickens. They love him. They always lay more when he’s around. And you’ll be happy to know that I’ve taken up quilting and rug hooking but I still love drawing the best. Ewan wants to fix up the front porch so I can sell my work to tourists. He’s already painted a sign to put up at the end of the driveway. I’m thinking of selling homemade jam. The blackberry and raspberry bushes are full this year. We’ve also had a lot of blueberries and strawberries. I know you’d love to be in the kitchen with me. I wish you were.”

  Lila had to try and extract her hand from Eunie’s grip because her fingers were white. Where was this strength coming from? It was as if Aunt Eunie wanted her to know there was still a spark of Eunice somewhere inside her dying body and diseased mind.

  Aunt Eunie finally closed her eyes and slept. Lila stayed for another hour, just so she wouldn’t be alone, but she sucked in great gulps of fresh air in relief on her way to the car.

  She needed to talk to someone living. She stopped in at Annie’s before heading home, which was like walking from a funeral parlour into a three-ring circus. The boys were running wild all over the house, every burner on the stove was on, and the phone didn’t stop ringing. Annie was in the middle of the mayhem, seemingly unperturbed.

  “Can I just say that you seem to be carrying this baby differently? I bet it’s a girl.”

  “It’s another boy. Want some tea?”

  Lila sank into the kitchen chair. “Yes, please. I’m wiped.”

  Annie stuck a box of animal crackers under her chin and grabbed the tea and some mugs. “I know that look. You’ve been in to see Aunt Eunie.”

  “Is it awful to say you wish someone was dead?”

  “No. Not when the only life they have is a beating heart.”

  Lila took a big gulp of hot tea. “I know everyone says this, but I really mean it. If I ever end up like that, please take me out and shoot me.”

  “If I shoot you, who’s going to shoot me?”

  “I’ll get Ewan to do it.”

  “Deal.”

  Lila took her cookie and dunked it in her tea. “How are the boys coping with school?”

  “John loves it, but Daniel isn’t sure. He came home after his first day and plunked himself down on the chair and said, ‘There. That’s done.’ You should’ve seen the look he gave me when I told him he had to go back the next day.”

  “They’re so cute.”

  Annie sipped from her mug. “I think I already know the answer, but…”

  “I don’t want another baby. It’s too scary. Besides, Ewan won’t let me because of my heart. He says I can have as many dogs as I want, though.”

  “I love Ewan. If I wasn’t married to Henry, Ewan would be my man.”

  “Don’t tell him that. He’s afraid of you.”

  “Me?”

  “A lot of people are afraid of you, Annie. Didn’t you know that?”

  “You’re the biggest chicken of all, and you’re here.”

  “That’s just because I know there’s a gigantic marshmallow heart behind that big mouth of yours.”

  “Phooey.”

  It turned out Annie was right.

  Henry managed to make it to the birth of his fourth son. Robert Ewan Pratt was quickly nicknamed Robbie, and Ewan stopped being afraid of Annie from that day on. All of Robbie’s red-headed brothers came to the hospital to visit him. They gathered around the bed.

  “Mom, I don’t think he’s cooked yet,” John said.

  “What?”

  “His hair isn’t done.”

  “He’s blonde.” Annie passed Robbie over to a waiting Henry. “How the heck did I end up with three redheads and a blonde when my hair is brown? You’re stomping all over my genes, Pratfall.”

  “The next one will be a brunette. I promise.”

  “The next one? I hope you’re having it. This shop is closed for business.”

  Henry smiled down at Robbie. “She says that every time.”

  “I do not.”

  “Oh yes, she does. She says that every time, Robbie, so don’t listen to her.”

  For every life there’s a death. Aunt Eunie finally went to her resting place, and while it wasn’t unexpected it still hurt like hell. The next morning, Uncle Joe went to town to make the funeral arrangements. He insisted on going alone. It was late in the afternoon when Lila heard his car pull up in the driveway. She was ironing the clothes she’d washed earlier, the ones they would wear to Aunt Eunie’s funeral.

  When he didn’t come right in, Lila assumed Uncle Joe had gone to the barn to speak to Ewan, but surely he’d change his clothes first. She ironed for ten minutes more and then decided to look for herself. Rounding the corner of the house, she saw him lying on the ground beside the open car door. There was a box from Aunt Muriel’s bakery beside him, held together with string.

  “Oh my God. Ewan! Come quick!” Lila fell to her knees in the dirt driveway and listened for a heartbeat. Ewan raced over and got down with her. “Is he breathing?”

  She looked at Uncle Joe’s face. “He’s gone. He didn’t want to live without her.” Lila reached down and hugged Uncle Joe where he lay. She didn’t cry. She had nothing left.

  When word got out about the awful news, it spread like wildfire. It was a romantic and tragic end to a marriage between two wonderful people who had spent their lives giving of themselves. Friends and neighbours worried that Lila would have another breakdown, but she knew nothing in her whole life would ever be as bad as losing Caroline.

  Ewan, though, had a much harder time. Uncle Joe had been like a father to him, and more than once Lila found Ewan sitting on a bale of hay in the barn and staring out at nothing. She tried to talk to him but he said there was nothing wrong.

  All the Macdonalds were there for the funeral. David and Kay came up from Halifax without the girls, as they were only staying for the night. After the funeral everyone was going to Abigail and Kenzie’s for supper.

  Aunt Eunie and Uncle Joe were buried together in the Mira Gut cemetery. It was a small green space fenced off from the road, but the view was of Mira Bay in all its glory. It pleased Lila to know her aunt and uncle would be close by. When she looked out over the water from the cemetery, she could see the woods where Cricket was, which meant that Uncle Joe and Aunt Eunie could watch over her too.

  It was a grey and blustery September day, with mist in the air that threatened to turn to
rain. Annie and Ewan arranged for the minister to give his service at the graveside instead of in a church, so everyone was gathered around the grave when Lila and Ewan pulled up behind the hearse. The number of cars lined up on both sides of the highway took Lila by surprise. Perhaps she should’ve arranged a tea for everyone after the service, since that was the customary thing to do on the island, but it was too late now. The only people she cared about, she’d see at dinner in Glace Bay.

  Ewan and Uncle Joe’s friends and co-workers carried the casket to the edge of the dug hole. As the ceremony commenced, Lila’s attention wandered. She didn’t have to listen, since God never listened to her. Annie and Henry stood side by side, giving her loving and sympathetic looks. So did Abigail and Kenzie, which was reassuring. She didn’t notice David at first because she was too busy looking at the soft pink tweed suit Kay had on.

  Who wears pink to a funeral? She stuck out like a sore thumb. Lila knew that Kay was doing it because she hated Lila. She was always pleasant and chatty, but Lila knew. It was something she never discussed with anyone, and Lila was pretty sure Kay didn’t let on to anyone in her life either. It was a silent battle simmering just below the surface.

  Every time Lila glanced his way, David was looking at her. His dark blue suit fit him perfectly and he’d filled out in the last few years. He had always been good looking, but now he had the classic features of a confident and sexy man. Even the women at the funeral were looking at him from under their eyelashes, no doubt wishing that they were on his arm, but who would be able to compete with Kay?

  Lila would.

  She had what Kay wanted: David’s love.

  Lila wondered how much it hurt Kay to know that even with her beauty, her style, her money, she wasn’t enough. Her husband was fixated on a woman who was wearing a faded shirtdress and knitted sweater.

  A wave of longing washed over Lila as she stood there. Kay was going home to two beautiful daughters. David had given Kay babies who didn’t die. Lila couldn’t stand it anymore. When she walked away from the graveside no one went after her, knowing how upset she was, but she didn’t go to the truck. She crossed the road, scrambled down the bank by the water’s edge, and screamed her lungs out on the beach.