Kin

by Lesley Crewe

  Grammie got out of the back seat and kissed Colleen on the cheek. “I wonder if we’ll survive.”

  They soon had a routine.

  Every morning, Grammie would get up at the crack of dawn and turn on the valve of the oil stove. She’d wander off, mumbling about how cold it was, to get a piece of newspaper to light. By the time she found a match, lit the thing, and threw it in, the oil pooled at the bottom of the stove resulted in a fireball roaring up the chimney. Colleen would shout that she was going to burn the place down while Aunt Muriel snored away in blissful ignorance. She never got out of bed until the place was toasty.

  Meals were an ordeal. Aunt Muriel liked steak every night. Grammie didn’t.

  “How about a chicken leg?”

  “A chicken leg? How’s that supposed to feed a body?”

  “What about haddock?”

  “I know. Let’s have steak.”

  Colleen would take them grocery shopping and they’d each buy their own items. They insisted everything be put in different bags so they wouldn’t get them mixed up.

  “They’re going to the same kitchen,” Colleen pleaded. “It doesn’t matter what bags they’re in.”

  Apparently it did.

  They wanted their hair washed once a week and said Colleen could do it. First she washed their hair in the kitchen sink, and then the two of them sat on either side of the old table with their identical bags of small grey metal rollers, and their pink plastic hairpins that were held in old Sucrets tins. Colleen would roll up their hair as best she could and they always said she did a great job, but the well water was soft and an hour after taking the rollers out, the tops of their heads would be flat.

  But the biggest challenge Colleen had was trying to convince them that she could take their wash into town and do it there. No, no, no. They didn’t want to inconvenience her. They’d go to a laundromat. So Colleen would take them to the one in Louisbourg and she’d have to sit there with them on the hottest days of the summer. They insisted on using separate machines in case they got their underwear mixed up. The fact that Aunt Muriel’s were large and Grammie’s were small was irrelevant. She begged them to let her take the laundry back to the cottage and hang it up on the line, but they said that was a lot of work. They’d dry it here. Another hour in the sweltering heat would go by.

  The other thing they did that drove Colleen up the wall was watch television. They loved detective series. Hawaii Five-O was a big favourite. But just as the plot twist was about to be revealed, a car’s headlights would drive by and the two of them would pop out of their chairs like gophers and wonder who it could be. While they wondered, they talked right over the best bit of the show. Finally Colleen had enough.

  “It’s either the Spencers or the Scotts or the Morrisons or the O’Neills, or the Caldwells or the Kerrs or the Fergusons or the Bruckswaigers or the Dillons. That’s it! There’s nobody else who comes down this road. Geez!”

  The other thing that Grammie did was push out her top dentures a little. Then she’d chatter them while she tsked about the kissing part in the show. She also ate copious amounts of candy, which she kept in her apron pocket. Colleen went to put her clean nightgown away one day and in her top bureau drawers was a stash of pink peppermints, scotch mints, liquorice all-sorts, hum-bugs, chicken bones, and gumdrops.

  “Why don’t you weigh three hundred pounds?” Colleen griped.

  But as much as they drove her crazy that summer, she had never laughed so hard in her life. Like the night the bat got in. Aunt Muriel sat in bed hollering with the covers over her head.

  “Oh shut up, Muriel!” Grammie chased the bat with a broom to shoo it outside while Colleen kept the door open. Lucky ran back and forth on the furniture in a frenzy trying to jump up and get it as it flew by.

  And the two old birds constantly traded stories back and forth. Aunt Muriel told her about a friend who ran a boarding house. She walked in the bathroom and found her husband naked, bent over with his back to her, one leg up on the bathtub as he dried himself. She couldn’t resist. She put her hand between his legs, grabbed his willy, and said, “Ding-dong! Avon calling.” When the boarder turned around, she screamed, and in her panic, slipped on the floor and broke her leg.

  The funniest part was watching Aunt Muriel act it out. She laughed so hard, you couldn’t make out what she was saying. She clapped her hands and then slapped the table in delight, Grammie snickering the whole time. The thought that her Grammie and Aunt Muriel even knew what a penis was startled Colleen, but eventually she stopped seeing them as elderly relatives and saw them as women. They certainly were her best friends that summer.

  But there were still times when she felt lost. She’d take Lucky and stop to see some of the regulars on the lane and get their news, or go visit the fudge lady.

  While her roommates read their Harlequin romances, Colleen took a walk up to Lila and Ewan’s farm one sunny day in mid-August. It felt a little awkward, but her mother and Lila did speak to each other now.

  There was something about Lila that felt familiar, and Ewan was a sweetheart. She couldn’t imagine anyone not liking him.

  Their dogs barked at Lucky and came running over. Lucky was a little defensive at first, but the happy creatures soon put him at ease as they chased each other around the yard. Ewan poked his head around one of the sheds.

  “Hi, Colleen.”

  “Hi, Ewan. Everyone’s told me about how this place has grown. I thought maybe I could look around.”

  “I’ll give you a tour.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Colleen was fascinated with how each animal had its own routine and its own home. The pens, sheds, coops, and barn were all clean and well organized. Everything was painted in bright primary colours. All the different animals were delightful, and because they were used to people, they’d let you come right up to them. Ewan handed her a bucket with oats in it and asked her if she’d feed the miniature horses for him. She was so enthralled with their soft muzzles munching away she forgot everything else.

  Lila eventually walked over and asked if she’d like a cup of tea and something to eat. Colleen declined, but Lila insisted.

  “You’d be doing me a favour. It’s fun to talk to a woman instead of a man or a critter.”

  So Colleen followed her into the house. Lila had cucumber and tomato sandwiches on the table along with a pot of tea and a plate of chocolate brownies for dessert.

  Lila told her about their farm, how over the years it had turned into this special place, and how the petting zoo earned them enough money to keep everything in operation. Then she spoke about her craft store, which fascinated Colleen.

  “I’d love to be able to hook or knit or quilt. I’ve just never had anyone who could teach me.”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  “Do you mean it?”

  “Of course.”

  So that became part of Colleen’s routine as well. She spent a few hours with Lila every day, learning how to sew, braid rugs, hook rugs, and quilt a pillow cover to start with. She practised at night in the cottage while the ladies watched The Rockford Files.

  Once the cottage became too cold for the old dolls, Colleen took them back to town, their summer adventure over. She was sorry to see them go but also relieved, because that meant she and Lucky could spend even more time at the farm. Lila had her help with canning, making jams and pickles and chow-chow. Ewan would come in for lunch and they’d sit around the kitchen table and feast on salmon sandwiches and hot tea with Apple Betty.

  Ewan told her about his Uncle Gaya from Mira who taught music many years before. He was a marvellous violinist and in the evening when he’d sit on his porch and play the Minuet in G, a big buck with enormous antlers would walk out of the woods and come up to the house to listen to him play. It was only when Gaya stopped that the buck would disappear.

  �
�And people say animals are dumb beasts?” Ewan shook his head. “We could all learn a lesson about living on this planet from the species we share it with.”

  When Ewan went back outside Colleen said, “Ewan is a wise soul, isn’t he?”

  Lila smiled. “Yes.”

  It was while Lila was showing her how to cast off a pair of mitts that Colleen blurted, “I lost a baby, you know.”

  “I heard. I’m so sorry, Colleen.”

  “And I can’t have any more.”

  Lila put down the ball of wool. “I lost a baby and I was told not to have any more because of my heart.”

  Colleen couldn’t believe it. “Is that true?”

  Lila nodded.

  “How old was your baby?”

  “Three. Her name was Caroline.”

  “That’s so sad. Was she sick?”

  “She drowned in a well.”

  Colleen burst into tears. Lila reached over and held her while she wept. “I want you to cry your heart out, sweetheart. It will feel better.”

  * * *

  Lila was at the window the next morning when Colleen arrived with her dog. Ewan waved and she ran over to him. He handed her one of his baskets and they walked together through the grass to collect the morning eggs, Lucky wagging his tail behind them.

  David’s little girl was back in her life.

  * * *

  It seems everything happens in threes. Colleen’s mom was getting married to Derek; Frankie was having another baby; and Grandmother Hanover died.

  Not that Colleen was ever close to her, but the way she died was horrible. She was drinking late at night on their yacht. Grandfather was in the cabin below. For some reason she decided to leave the boat and tried to get up the ladder to the wharf, but slipped back into the water and got mired in the ropes. They found her the next morning.

  After the funeral, Colleen’s dad went back to Cape Breton. Colleen stayed on in Halifax, because her mother’s wedding was supposed to take place two weeks later, but now the girls weren’t sure if it was going to happen because their mother had gone to pieces. She couldn’t get out of bed, she didn’t want to see anyone, and she cried all the time.

  Her daughters were at a loss. They’d always thought she hated her mother.

  Colleen went over to Frankie’s house, a new one large enough for a growing family, and spent her evenings there. She was ashamed of herself for having resented Frankie’s children in the past. The boys were adorable, and she realized that she could love her sister’s children too. Everyone did need a wacky aunt around the house.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on,” Frankie said. “Mom bitched about her constantly. You’d think she’d be happy now that she’s gone. She didn’t even want Grandmother to come to the wedding.”

  “But she was her mother, and the way she died was awful.”

  “They say mother and daughter relationships are difficult anyway. I sure hope I get to find out.”

  “And when this baby’s a boy?”

  “I’m not stopping until I get a girl.”

  Her sister always did want her own way. “Does your husband know this?”

  “He’ll be informed when the time comes.”

  “Oh, brother.”

  When she got back to her mom’s apartment, Derek was in the hallway wringing his hands. “I don’t know what to do! I keep telling her it’s all right and we don’t have to get married if she doesn’t want to, but it’s like she’s not listening. I feel helpless. What should I do? How can I make her feel better?”

  It was amazing how the passage of time had changed Colleen’s perspective. Derek, his gold chain notwithstanding, was actually a nice guy. He really was only concerned with her mother. She thought it must be nice to be loved like that.

  “I’ll try and talk to her. Why don’t you make her some cocoa?”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Why don’t you run to Tim Horton’s and get her a hot chocolate. And one for me, too.”

  His face brightened. He had a task. “I’ll get us some Timbits, too, shall I?”

  Colleen knocked on her mother’s bedroom door and walked in. Mom looked sad and worn out. She sat on the side of the bed and took her mom’s hand.

  “I know what’s wrong, but what’s wrong?”

  “I never had a relationship with my mother the way I have with you girls, and now I never will.”

  Colleen loved her mother dearly, but there were times when she wanted to wring her neck. Her mother was capable of hurting her without even noticing, which made Colleen resent her intensely sometimes. But it seemed Kay’s view of their relationship was a tad rosier.

  “What was her mother like?”

  “Awful, apparently. She never kissed her, not once in her life.”

  “Now, that’s lousy parenting. Your mother did better than that, and you did better than your mother, and Frankie is at this very moment doing a much better job than you ever did.”

  Her mother burst out laughing. “Oh, Colleen, I love you. You always were the funniest little thing. You were Aunt Annie’s favourite, you know.”

  Colleen sat up a little straighter. “Did she tell you that?”

  “Not in so many words, but I could tell. Frankie was standoffish, but you were only happy when you were in someone’s arms. Annie used to carry you all day when we’d come up for the summer.”

  “If Aunt Annie were sitting here today, what do you think she’d say to you?”

  “Stop your bellyaching, get off your ass, and marry the guy.”

  “You heard the woman.”

  The wedding went ahead.

  * * *

  Frankie’s daughter Hilary was born on July 13, 1981, at 5:20 a.m., just as the sun was coming up. They put her in Frankie’s arms and Hilary looked at her mother with big, brown eyes.

  “Hello, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting for you.

  * * *

  When her Aunt Colleen and Grampy Macdonald came down to Halifax to meet the first granddaughter in the family, Hilary was asleep in her crib. Frankie wanted them to wait until she woke up, but Grampy asked for just one little peek. When he bent over the crib, Hilary had her thumb in her mouth.

  David’s heart stopped.

  She looked like Caroline.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  1991

  Hilary’s breath was hot against her hands as she covered her face and kept her eyes tightly shut. She leaned against the garage door at the back of the house while counting to one hundred. It wasn’t easy. A housefly kept buzzing around her head and the back of her checkered shirt was sticky with sweat, she’d been standing so long in the noonday sun.

  “Ready or not, here I come!”

  Adam was always hard to find. When Mark used to play with them, before he got all cool and everything, he was even harder.

  There were lots of great places in their backyard for hiding. There was the multi-level deck, the gazebo, Dad’s baby barn, the pool’s dressing rooms, the mega-bushes their gardener had brought in fully grown. There was even a bicycle shed at the very back of the property. Mom wanted a bush planted in front of that as well, to hide the unsightly thing. Dad wouldn’t take it down because there were about forty-two bikes of every size in it. Mom said she was going to plant lots of ivy beside it and hopefully it would grow up the side of the wall. Dad didn’t care if she did that. It saved him from painting it.

  Hilary’s mother opened the sliding door. “Come in for lunch, please.”

  Hilary took off. “Can’t…gotta find Adam.”

  Her mother stepped out even further. “Get back here now, Hilary Anne!”

  When her mother said her middle name, you couldn’t argue with her. Hilary turned around and stomped up the stairs. “Lunch is stupid.”

  “Stupid seems to be your favourite w
ord, but looking for someone who isn’t here isn’t very bright either.”

  “What do you mean, not here?”

  “I sent him to the store.”

  Hilary sulked. “Thanks a lot, Mom. He finally plays with me and you mess it up.”

  Mom reached over and took her daughter’s baseball hat off. “Wash your hands.”

  Washing her hands was also stupid. Her mother had an obsession with cleanliness.

  Once at the table, she realized she was pretty hungry. Her usual, a bowl of canned ravioli, was on the glass table. Their tiny dog, Precious, lay down under the table and stared at her. It was like being watched by a hairy rat. Precious was her mother’s dog. Hilary wanted a real one, but so far the answer was no.

  Her mother emptied the dishwasher while watching The Price Is Right on the small TV sitting on the kitchen counter. Her fifteen-year-old brother, Mark, was practicing in the family room on his drums with his so-called band. Her father was on his computer in the study.

  Hilary hated the weekends. They were lonely.

  She didn’t have a lot of friends. Girls were stupid. The only things they cared about were dolls and boys and clothes. The day before Hilary had asked some of the girls on the street to come over and play volleyball and they did, for about ten minutes, and then complained it was too hot and asked if they could go in her pool. They chased each other around screaming at the top of their lungs, and acted as if a splash of water was acid burning their skin. All of them went into hysterics when Mark and his buddies came in through the back way to go practice.

  Hilary sat at the top of the stairs, watching the mayhem. Her father had come outside to supervise and sat with her.

  “Don’t feel like going in?”

  “Would you?

  “Can’t say I would.”

  “As Grampy says, I rest my case.”

  Shopping with her mom was also stupid.

  “Please, Hilary! This is gorgeous.” She’d hold up stupid dresses again and again and then get mad when Hilary didn’t want to try them on. Mom also got annoyed when she told the hairdresser she wanted her hair cut short.