Mary, Mary

by Lesley Crewe

  “Pardon me if I was a late bloomer. I read an article that said fatherless girls are more susceptible to bad men. They crave love in all the wrong places. I’m a classic example.”

  “Yeah, when you’re a teenager, but I’m not going to argue with you. I’m just disappointed that Drew’s family isn’t as excited as I am.”

  “Chuck seemed okay.”

  “Fathers don’t know anything about weddings.”

  “I take it Ted isn’t going to have a say in this one?”

  “God, no.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Mrs. Aucoin’s funeral was three days after Christmas, and Mary made a point of going to both the wake and the service. Both events were packed to the rafters; Mrs. Aucoin had had a lot of children. Mary wanted to avoid the son who had kicked out Roscoe, but it couldn’t be helped. He was in the receiving line, along with the others. She gave him a curt nod and he did the same. But the other siblings were lovely.

  “We’re so grateful you came,” said Mrs. Aucoin’s daughter, Millie. “Maman always thought you were a lovely girl. If you hadn’t gone up there that night, who knows how long she’d have been there.”

  A very large group of grandchildren and cousins clustered in one of the funeral parlour rooms, but Mary didn’t want to speak to them. It was too awkward to say she was the girl who found their grandmother.

  When Mary got home, her mother wanted to know who was at the church and was Mrs. Aucoin cremated. Her grandmother wanted to know what the church ladies had served at lunch. “Did they have those asparagus roll-ups? Did you bring me any?”

  Mary walked by without answering and shut herself in her room.

  Mrs. Aucoin’s relatives came by the house in the new year with the keys, the outstanding rent, and a moving truck. It took them all afternoon to cart away her possessions. The stairs to the upper apartment were directly above the hair salon, and the stomping and banging got on Carole’s nerves as she put a blue rinse in a client’s hair. At one point someone dropped something heavy enough to cause a dusting of plaster to rain down on the lady’s head.

  The moving truck finally drove away in the late afternoon. Once Mary got home from work and they finished their dinner of beans and wieners, they went up the stairs to see what had to be done before they advertised for a new tenant.

  The apartment was rather large: it had an eat-in kitchen, a living room, and two bedrooms. The bathroom was spacious but old-fashioned, and there weren’t enough light fixtures in the place so it was a bit dingy now that Mrs. Aucoin’s lamps were gone. The three of them wandered about the rooms. Carole looked in the kitchen.

  “I’m going to have to paint these cupboards inside and out.” There was a pause. “Oh God, you should see the state of the stove and fridge.”

  “She was old and almost blind,” Mary reminded her.

  “Her relatives must have seen it. It wouldn’t have killed them to at least wipe them out.”

  “Oh shit,” Ethel cried from the bathroom.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just told ya. This toilet could use a scrub.”

  Mary crinkled her nose. “I’m not cleaning that. I’ll do anything else, but not that.”

  It took Carole and Mary a week to paint the living room, the bedrooms, and the bathroom, because they could only pick at it in the evenings. True to form, Carole, who wouldn’t ask Peggy to help, was moaning about the fact that Peggy wasn’t helping.

  Mary, splattered with paint, was on her knees trying to get paint drops off the hardwood. “Then ask her!”

  “No. She’ll come in here with her holier-than-thou attitude and tell me I’m doing it all wrong. She’s not the only one who can decorate.”

  As things went on, Mary became concerned about her mother’s colour choices, but her mom wasn’t in a great mood, so Mary kept her mouth shut.

  They finished the kitchen near midnight on a Saturday night and when it was dark, the yellow wasn’t half bad. It was very bright and achieved the goal of getting rid of the gloomy atmosphere, but when the morning light streamed in through the windows, the redecorating project hit a snag.

  Mary woke to her mother swearing loudly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “If you want to know, follow me.”

  Mary and Ethel put on their housecoats, and Mary helped her grandmother up the stairs to the apartment. They walked into the newly painted kitchen.

  “Can you believe this?” demanded Carole.

  “It’s like walking into a nuclear flash! You shoulda let Peggy pick the colour.”

  “Thanks, Ma. I can always count on you for an honest opinion.” Carole turned on her heel and walked out of the apartment.

  Mary looked at her Gran. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

  “She must have got this paint from the highway department.” They went back downstairs and Ethel called Peggy while Carole was in the bathroom. “Get the Jesus over here, quick.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “You’ll see when you get here.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were painting the apartment?” Peggy stood in the middle of the small kitchen with her hand shielding her eyes. It was worse than she expected. “There’s no way this can be fixed without putting on several coats of primer and then a new paint colour. It might be easier to wallpaper over it.” Before Carole could open her mouth, Peggy added, “And I’m picking it out, understand?”

  “Be my guest. You can put it up yourself, too. I’ve got enough to do.”

  “Don’t worry. Sheena can help me.”

  But when Peggy called Sheena, her daughter made it very clear she could not help; she was busy planning a wedding.

  Peggy went back downstairs and sat glumly at her mother’s kitchen table. She looked out of place in her pleated wool slacks, leather boots, and tweed blazer. Carole, Ethel, and Mary were still in their bathrobes. Peggy spied something across the room. “What is that?”

  “That’s Roscoe,” said Mary.

  “Sweet Jesus.”

  “I second that,” Gran said. “He takes some getting used to.”

  Mary bent down and gave him a piece of cheese. “Ignore these mean women, Roscoe.” She scratched behind his ears and he arched his back, purring with pleasure.

  Peggy sighed. “Sheena doesn’t want to wallpaper.”

  Carole stood by the toaster, waiting for it to pop. “Listen to yourself, for God’s sake.”

  Mary poured her aunt a cup of coffee. “I’ll help you.”

  Peggy gave her a small smile. “Thank you, dear.”

  Ethel pointed her finger at Peggy. “There’s no way this child is going near that kitchen. Bad enough she helped her mother paint the whole apartment. Your brat could learn a thing or two from this little lady.”

  “Mom, I have no intention of letting Mary help me. And I don’t appreciate you calling my daughter a brat.”

  “What else do you call someone who doesn’t want to help their own kin?”

  “Ethel,” Carole snickered.

  “Shut your pie hole!” Ethel shouted back.

  Peggy put her hands over her ears. “Will you two stop for five minutes? Mary, I have no idea how you live with these two. I was lucky to escape at an early age. I recommend you do the same.”

  Mary poured herself a bowl of cereal. “I don’t hear them anymore.”

  “Carole, are you burning my toast, or what?”

  Carole checked the toast. It was burning, so she scraped off the black crumbs, put it on a plate, and plunked it in front of her mother and gave a small bow. “Your Highness.”

  Ethel rolled her eyes and buttered the toast. “Peggy, give me your cellphone.”

  Peggy passed it to her. Ethel looked at it and passed it back. “You have to be friggin’ Houdini to figure out how to use these things now. Ca
ll Sheena for me.”

  Peggy punched in the numbers. “What are you going to say?”

  “Never you mind.” Ethel took a bite of toast while she waited for Sheena to pick up. “Hello, Sheena? It’s Gran. Fine honey, how are you? Good, good. Listen, I want ya to get off your bum, get dressed, and come down here in a big fat hurry and help your mother buy some wallpaper and fix the upstairs kitchen. And I don’t give a Jesus if ya like it or not. Hear me? Don’t make me show up at your fiancé’s fancy-shmancy house and drag you outta there, ‘cause I will. Got that? Good. See ya in twenty minutes.”

  Ethel gave Peggy the phone. “Your generation is pathetic.”

  In the end, they all helped because Carole needed a tenant quickly. She was running out of dough.

  “I can lend you some money,” Peggy told her sister.

  “I’d rather starve.”

  Peggy looked to the heavens.

  Sheena was useless at putting up wallpaper and most of the time the other women just pushed her out of the way, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. She was too busy talking.

  “My friend did her wedding invitations herself. She picked up stuff at Staples and photocopied them. Can you imagine? Mine are going to be on thick, creamy paper with gold lettering. I was also thinking of a swan theme. Feathers are so hot right now. Or I’d like a full ball gown with beading on the top, added lace detail…and it has to be sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline. That, or maybe a form-fitting mermaid style or something with a dropped waist and lots of organza, or maybe even….”

  She talked for ten minutes and didn’t take a breath. Even her mother looked fed up after a while.

  When the ladies were finished, they surveyed their work. The kitchen was normal again. It was time to advertise on Kijiji.

  A day later, the horrible wallpaper episode behind her, Sheena hummed as she drove home from work in her Jeep. It had been a gift for her eighteenth birthday four years ago, so she needed a new one. Thankfully her soon-to-be father-in-law said he had just the ticket and would give her a great deal on a new one. Sheena was kind of hoping he might just give her one, but later thought that might be a bit greedy.

  Drew worked for his dad and seemed to be just as car crazy. He and Sheena had met when Sheena took the Jeep in to get some work done. Drew was all over her in a matter of minutes. A very smooth operator but he was so darn cute, what could she do?

  It seemed strange to think that if she’d received a different car for her birthday, she’d never have met Drew. Her Jeep was her lucky charm. She’d driven it to campus on her first day at Cape Breton University to study business, and drove it back home a week later to burst into tears at the supper table, informing her parents that she was going to kill herself if she had to go back.

  Sheena knew her father was disappointed she wasn’t going to be a college graduate, but oh well. It was her life, not his. She really didn’t need a job if she was going to be married and looked after someday, the way her mother was. And besides, she liked working at La Senza in the mall; most of her paycheque went towards buying all the latest lingerie in the store. Her parents didn’t make her pay for food or rent, so she had it made.

  When she arrived home for supper, she was amazed to see her father at the dinner table. “Why are you here?”

  “I live here.” Ted cut into his pork chop.

  Sheena sat down and Peggy immediately got up to fetch a plate of food for her.

  “You never eat dinner with us.”

  “A slight exaggeration.” Ted scooped a forkful of mashed potato. “How was your day?”

  “Great. I asked Riley to be my maid of honour.”

  “Wait!” Peggy said, setting down the plate. “I thought Mary was going to be your maid of honour.”

  “No. She’s not my sister.”

  “She’s the closest thing you have to a sister. She’s your family. I think she should at least be asked.”

  “Too late. Mary can be a bridesmaid.”

  “I wish you’d discussed it with me first. How am I going to tell Carole?”

  “Aunt Carole won’t care, and neither will Mary.”

  Ted cleared his throat. “It’s been decided, Peggy. Leave it alone.”

  “I want them to feel included, that’s all. They’re the only family I have. At least Carole is doing your hair.”

  Sheena’s fork clattered onto her plate. “Excuse me? Aunt Carole is not doing my hair. Kerrie at Halo Salon and Spa is doing my hair. She always does. She’s fabulous.”

  “How am I going to explain to Carole that she’s not styling the bridal party? She told me that was going to be your wedding gift.”

  “You say, ‘Carole, you’re not styling the bridal party.’”

  Peggy tapped the table with her knife. “Oh, no. If you don’t want your aunt to do your hair, you have to tell her.”

  Sheena looked at her dad. “Can you please tell Mom that since she was the one who got me into this mess, she’s the one who should get me out?”

  Ted sipped his wine. “She’s got a point.”

  Peggy was incredulous. “Am I going to have no say in this wedding whatsoever? Your father and I are paying for it, missy. Not you.”

  “Mom! I’m the bride! You have to do what I say. Everyone knows that.”

  Ted put his hands up. “Enough already. I have something I want to discuss with you both.”

  “What’s wrong?” Peggy asked.

  “Nothing. An old university friend who’s a member of Doctors Without Borders got in touch with me, asked if I’d like to take a sabbatical and join their organization on the road.”

  “For how long?”

  “At least a year.”

  “A year!” Peggy sputtered. “Are you joking?”

  “I’m dead serious.”

  “But what about my wedding?” Sheena moaned. “Don’t you care about that?”

  “Of course I care. I’ll be home in plenty of time for the wedding.”

  “Wonderful,” Peggy said. “So I’m supposed to do this all by myself?”

  “You know full well the only thing you’d want me to do is hand over my credit cards. I can do that before I go.”

  “Is this dangerous?” Sheena asked.

  “There are always risks, but I’m getting bored with my routine and thought this would be a challenge. I’m not getting any younger.”

  “Where would you go?”

  “Uzbekistan.”

  “Is that a country?”

  “Google it, Sheena.”

  Peggy looked dismayed. “Isn’t that near Afghanistan? Are you crazy?”

  “There’s a terrible problem with drug-resistant TB in the country. My friend from school is living in Tashkent, and he assures me we’ll be safe.”

  “So you’re bored with your life. Who isn’t? Your daughter and I aren’t enough for you? Thanks a lot, Ted.” Her eyes welled up.

  Ted’s ears began to redden. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s got nothing to do with my family. It’s my career that needs attention. I feel stale and old and uninterested. This will be the kick in the pants I need to remember why I became a doctor in the first place.”

  “As long as you come back to walk me down the aisle, I think it’s kind of cool. You should go, Dad.”

  “Thanks, Sheena.”

  Ted reached over the table and took Peggy’s hand. “I hope you’ll give me your blessing. You and Sheena will be busy with the wedding and probably won’t even notice I’m gone. You’re always telling me I’m never around anyway, so what’s the difference?”

  Peggy wiped her eyes with a napkin. “You have to give me time to think about this. It’s not every day your husband swans off for a year to the other side of the planet.”

  Ted smiled. “It’ll be fine. You’ll both have a great time here without me, and I’ll b
e back before you know it. I’m leaving in two weeks.”

  “You complete bastard! You already knew you were going? How is that discussing something with me?”

  “Please be happy for me, Peggy. It’s the chance of a lifetime. A dream come true, if you will.”

  Peggy jumped up from the table. “This is how you operate. If I object now, I’m the dream-killer—the bad guy. Boy, you really had this all figured out, didn’t you?”

  She left the dining room.

  Ted looked at his daughter. “Don’t worry. She’ll be all right.”

  Sheena made a face. “Ya think?”

  Ethel was in Dotty’s Dairy buying scratch tickets and shooting the breeze with Dotty, who, rumour had it, knew everything about everyone in Sydney. Her store was small and cramped and hot as blue blazes because she was a thin woman with no meat on her bones. She always wore three sweaters and perched on her stool by the cash machine, seeming never to move all day. She’d point at things people were looking for and kept a baseball bat handy to knock the lights out of anyone she found shoplifting.

  Ethel gathered up her tickets. “So my granddaughter is getting married to Chuck Corbett’s son. You know him?”

  “He owns some car dealerships, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah. Apparently his wife is cheating on him.”

  Dotty dismissed Ethel with a wave of her hand. “Girl, they’re all cheating on each other these days. It makes my head spin. You wouldn’t believe what I see on a daily basis. Carrying on as if I didn’t have eyes. If you ask me, computers are to blame.”

  “Computers?”

  “They hook up with each other over the internet. They don’t even need to be in the same room to have sex anymore!”

  “That’s a good thing if you ask me. See ya later.”

  “Yep. See ya.”

  Peggy had a hard time dealing with Ted’s decision. She found herself going to Carole’s to hash it out a week later. It was the middle of the day so Carole was busy, but Peggy really needed someone to talk to.