Calmer Girls

by Jennifer Kelland Perry

  Lying in bed a few hours later, she hoped they weren’t having too much fun with each other. That frigid February night, and the return bus ride from a hockey game in Corner Brook, intruded into her thoughts. Samantha had been persuaded to sit with one of the boys from her sister’s biology class. He’d dropped hints to Ronnie that he liked Samantha, so after much deliberation she’d bolstered her nerve to see what all the fuss was, on these “hockey bus” dates everyone talked about. It was a memory she later wished she could banish from her mind forever.

  The boy said he only wanted a little kiss. He wasn’t exactly hard to look at, so Samantha complied. So what was all the tongue about? She shuddered, nearly urging at the thought of it, the wet thickness of it snaking around the inside of her mouth, while his hands pushed inside her parka and proceeded to take full inventory. When she ultimately managed to wrench herself away from his tongue and his grasp, her horrified eyes looked down. He had unzipped his fly and exposed himself. Hold on. Whoa. Gentle Moses, what in the devil did he have in mind with that? Did he expect the tonsil hockey and the sight of his wretched penis would turn her into a helpless, heaving nymphomaniac?

  She couldn’t flee fast enough to the front of the bus to sit with the other girls. A fond and pleasant memory of her first kiss was not to be.

  She would never let on, but she found herself worrying about her sister lately, especially since they’d moved to St. John’s. Veronica could get into a lot more trouble here. And with their mother working practically every night, who was left to look out for her? No one. Only Samantha.

  ***

  “What time did you get home last night?” Samantha asked. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Keeping tabs, are we?” Veronica laughed, sipping her milky tea and nibbling on a piece of marmalade toast. “Around one-thirty, if you need to know.” She looked down, brushing the crumbs from her lap. “We went for a little drive after the movie. It was fabulous! And the movie was pretty good too.” She grinned at her play on words and chewed, a soft pinkness suffusing her cheeks.

  Samantha shrugged. “I hope you didn’t give it all away on your first date.” What am I saying? Maybe if her sister came across too easily, Ben would lose interest. Wasn’t that what Samantha wanted?

  “Relax, twerp. Ben is so dreamy, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never met anybody like him. But we aren’t inexperienced kids like you, so keep your nose out of it.” Veronica yawned. Catlike, she stretched her limbs out in front of her, then rose from the kitchen table. “Do you know if Momma is working tonight?”

  “Every second weekend she has to work Friday night and a half-day Saturday. I think that’s what she said. Why?”

  Veronica put her mug in the sink, the skimpy nightshirt she wore barely covering her behind, displaying her perfect long legs. “I’m thinking of inviting Ben over,” she said, looking rather pleased with herself. “Maybe he has a dorky little friend for you.”

  Samantha frowned up at her. “No blind dates, thank you very much. I’ll find my own friends.”

  “And how’s that working out for you?” She threw Samantha a cool look. “Only trying to make it more fun for us both, you know.” She held her sister’s gaze. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, Sam. You don’t have to be popular to get the cute guys to like you. They don’t really notice if you’re in with the right crowd or clique or anything like that. All they care is that you’re friendly, you aren’t too hard to look at, and you’re bang-worthy.”

  Samantha groaned at her audacity. What a supposition! She suspected, however, that on some coarse level, and with some boys, a kernel of truth could be found in her sister’s words.

  The phone rang. “I’ll get it,” she said, reaching for the receiver on the kitchen wall. The absence of call display was a pain, but Darlene had opted out of the extras to save money. Be grateful we have a phone at all, she’d said.

  “Hello?”

  “Sam! It’s so great to hear your voice! How are you, my sweetheart?”

  “Daddy!” she cried. She leaned against the wall for support, trying to swallow around the rising knot in her windpipe. “Finally got around to remembering us, I take it.”

  Veronica moved away, shaking her head. She mouthed the words, “I’m not here,” and left the kitchen.

  “I could never forget you,” Jack said, sounding forlorn. “I love you, Sammie, and Ronnie too. I still want to talk to you some more, but is your mother home?”

  “She’s sleeping. She worked the night shift again last night.” Samantha knew it came out sounding like an accusation. The hard lump in her throat now felt gargantuan.

  “Oh, okay. I wanted to get her banking info because I’ll soon be ready to send money down. My new job is working out okay, Sam, and I’ve found a nice place to live too. I was hoping you and Ronnie might consider coming up for a visit next summer, you know, see some of the world. You two have never travelled off the island. I think you would like it here.”

  “Travel? Sure. A one-way ticket to Calmer would suffice, though.” She heard the hint of despair in her own voice as she blinked back tears, wondering why she bothered.

  “Honey, you know the reasons we can’t do that.”

  “Why couldn’t you fish other species, like crab, or shrimp? Like Leah’s father did? All of the fisher-folk didn’t run away, you know.”

  “Sam, I had just financed the new long-liner, and I couldn’t make the payments anymore without the cod. And the new truck payments—”

  “And the fights with Momma, of course,” Samantha put in. Not to mention your infidelity. She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes in the sleeve of her nightie.

  She heard her father sigh. “Your mother and I were having problems well before the moratorium, you know that. And it only got worse with the drinking. I didn’t want to expose you and Ronnie to any of that garbage anymore.”

  “So you abandoned us.”

  “Try to understand. I felt I had no choice but to get away and get my head straightened out. Listen, I’ve quit drinking. Never touching another drop. I realize I have to if I want any kind of life.”

  “I wish Momma would quit…” She regretted the words as soon as they sprung from her lips, feeling like she was betraying her mother.

  “Is it bad, Sam? How much is she drinking these days?” The concern in his voice bore a margin of guilt.

  Samantha’s face burned. “What do you care? You deserted her too. Along with us.”

  “Look, I don’t want to argue with you. That’s not why I called. Is Ronnie there?”

  “No,” she lied.

  “Well, I’ll call again soon, and hopefully one of you will talk to me then. I want you to write down my number and ask your mother to call collect as soon as she can, so I can start the bank deposits.” There was a short pause. “Please, sweetheart, I know how hard all of this must be for my girls, but everything is going to be okay. You’ll see.”

  Samantha squeezed her eyes shut. Remembering his warm, fatherly manner made her insides ache.

  How could he do this to her? Just as she had with Nana, she’d taken the security of his abiding presence for granted. As a small child, she’d often woken during the night with excruciating pain in both of her legs. They were growing pains, she was told. Daddy would allow her to crawl into bed between him and Momma so he could massage the “groaning” pain away with his strong, generous hands. When she’d taken up sleep-walking, it had always been he or Nana who guided her back to bed and to sleep, just as it was for the frightening night terror episodes that came later. One of them would wipe her tears and console her until her sobs subsided. Nana had called those bad dreams “the old Hag,” which only alarmed little Sammie more. The ghost of an old hag sitting on your chest, pinning you to your bed while you sleep? Thanks so much for that obliging visual, Nana!

  When she’d discovered her talent for art while drawing horses in elementary school, her father had supported her by purchasing art pencils and sketch pad
s; and that first summer she’d wanted to try photography, he bought a camera and helped her learn its many functions. And like Nana, he’d defended her sensitivities, her moods, her uniqueness, never putting her down for any of her quirks. He made her feel special. Until now.

  She wrote the number down. “I’ll give Momma the message when she gets up,” she said, her breath ragged. “I have to go now.” She sniffed and put her glasses back on.

  “Thanks, Sam. I miss you too, you know. And don’t forget, I will always love you and your sister.”

  Yeah. From afar. “Bye, Daddy,” she whispered, and hung up.

  She went to find Veronica brushing her hair in front of the bathroom mirror, styling it into a tight, tidy bun on the top of her head. “You could have at least said hi, you know.”

  “The hell I could,” her sister said, studying her flawless reflection. “Jack Cross can drop dead for all I care. I won’t be moaning over him like you are, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re just pretending not to care.”

  “What does it matter anyway, if I care or not? Daddy is gone, isn’t he? And he’s not coming back. He jumped off this sinking ship and left us to drown, so the hell with him.” She threw the hairbrush down onto the vanity with a clatter and stormed out to the porch. Lacing up her sneakers, she straightened up and swung open the door. “Going for a run,” she said before disappearing.

  Samantha returned to the kitchen to do the dishes. Squirting in the Sunlight liquid and turning on the hot water tap, she picked up the dirty wine glass by the sink, and another empty bottle that Darlene hadn’t even attempted to hide. A knifepoint of cold panic pricked her heart. It had become a nightly ritual now, her mother drinking herself to sleep when she came home from work. She shook her head, plunging the glass into the hot, sudsy water, welcoming the scalding pain.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m wearying to escape into that glorious world…not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it.”

  - Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

  “You look like you’re a million miles away.”

  Samantha pulled herself back to the present. No, Momma, only around the corner. She pushed the tormenting images of Ben and Veronica firmly from her thoughts. Open book in her lap, she stared through the large kitchen window, past the veranda into the neglected yard, then looked up at her mother. “Just wondering where I could get a part-time job I might like,” she said. Was there any such job in this town for her that she would enjoy a fraction as much as her hobbies? It didn’t seem likely.

  “I could check with my co-workers. Maybe they know of something.”

  “Mm.” Samantha tried to stay in the moment. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” She watched her mother tear the husks from three ears of corn and toss a green salad for supper. Three small fillets of supermarket salmon marinated in a casserole dish on the counter, waiting to be grilled on the back veranda.

  Darlene Cross. She whispered the name, wondering if her mother would be taking back her maiden name, Rose, when, or if (because she still hoped against it) the divorce became final. Her gaze followed Darlene as she went outside and lit the barbecue.

  Samantha’s face softened, recalling another weekend in June two years ago when she and her family were readying to dig into a fine scoff of freshly caught lobster back home. The continuous refrain of the lapping ocean, mere yards from their grassy garden. The strains of an old-time Newfoundland ballad, with accordion and fiddle, playing from Bessie May’s radio through her open window next door. For a late supper, their father had boiled the lobsters on an outdoor fireplace he’d built with bricks and an old oven rack. Being a rare, windless evening and unusually warm for early summer, they’d set their places on the red picnic table in the yard. She thought of Nana with her bib on, picked up for an outing from the nursing home, and her mother’s radiant smile as Jack sat down and raised his beer glass in a toast.

  “To a more successful season than the last few, ladies.” He’d beamed at them. “With our brand new long-liner, the Veronica-Samantha in the water, the boys and I are raring to get out there. Dyin’ to get out to those fishin’ grounds to land the biggest catches that ever saw a cod trap. May it be the best summer ever for my crew and for all of Calmer Cove. Here’s to future prosperity!”

  None of them could imagine that Jack’s words would be remembered as the kiss of death for the Northern Cod fishery.

  “Cheers!” Samantha and her sister yelled in unison, clinking their Coke bottles together. While she and Veronica were elbow-deep shucking lobster meat and helping feeble Nana with hers, Samantha looked up to catch her parents share an intimate moment. An azure sky melting into hues of pink and orange and a sinking, blood-red sun on the gulf horizon framed their heads as they leaned into each other for a kiss.

  “Get a room,” Veronica had said, crinkling her nose in mock disgust. But all Samantha could do was grin. After all the ups and downs she had seen her parents go through, with the less than stellar fishing seasons and declining cod stocks, the lack of money, and the changes in Nana, this was the kind of moment that made her believe everything would work out fine after all. Little did any of them know that fate had other plans in store for everyone.

  “Sammie, please!” her mother said, breaking into her daydream. “Did you hear me asking you to set the table?”

  “I’m on it.” Samantha jumped to her feet and collected plates from the cupboard. “Momma, just wondering…” She plunged ahead before she lost her nerve. “When you called Daddy back. How did it go?”

  “Just fine.” Darlene pursed her lips together in a pout. “Don’t you start in on me too. What business did you have talking about a couple of innocent glasses of wine? Huh? From now on, butt out. I’m quite capable of taking care of you girls, and myself, so I don’t need you or your father or anyone else looking over my shoulder, telling me how to live my life. Is that clear?”

  “Awfully defensive, aren’t you? Maybe you’re waking up to how much you are actually drinking these days?”

  Darlene pushed the fridge door closed and shot her a resentful look. “Dammit, I wasn’t going to mention it, but the last thing I need is someone spying on me. Keep it up and I’ll send you off to live with him. How would you like that? You can spy on his dirty little secrets for a change.”

  Samantha banged the plates on the table. “I don’t want any supper.” She slipped past her mother and into the hall, sliding her feet into loafers before fleeing through the front door.

  “Sammie, come back here!”

  No way. Samantha hurried out onto the sidewalk and down the street. But where did she think she was going? How do you run away from your own family? Then again, her father had certainly found a way. Not caring where she was going and walking as fast as her legs could manage, her only plan was to get as far away from her mother and her sister as possible. At least for now.

  Samantha missed running into the haven of her Nana’s arms, to feel the security she had known there through the turmoil of childhood. And she only wanted to remember her Nana the way she used to be. She didn’t want to dwell on how her grandmother’s sweet personality had slowly changed, and how she’d started forgetting and doing all sorts of bizarre things. None of them wanted to accept the dreaded Alzheimer’s diagnosis from her doctor. But they couldn’t deny how she’d been gradually replaced by that scary Nana, the one who lashed out in fury at them, so confused she’d thought everyone was out to hurt her or wrong her in some imagined way.

  Walking briskly around another corner, she tried not to think of that grim morning they had to move Scary Nana against her wishes, for her own safety as well as theirs, into the nursing home in Corner Brook. Samantha counted it as the darkest day of her life. Some relief came when her personality changed again, to one of a subdued, docile creature who could be brought home for short visits. But it saddened Samantha to know she would never change back into the grandmother
she loved. That Nana was gone from her forever.

  Samantha tried to ignore the rumbles of hunger in her stomach. After an hour of walking and with most of her frustrated energy spent, she looked at her surroundings, noticing that none of the landmarks looked familiar. She wasn’t even sure if she’d gone east or west. A bleached blonde, middle-aged woman, holding the long handle of a carry-on, stood on the corner in front of her. She was talking to herself, a cigarette dangling from her garish red lips. Sam tried not to stare at the blue-veined legs, the skirt both too tight and too short, and her long, high-heeled boots. The woman winked at her and cackled as Samantha hurried on through the reek of tobacco smoke.

  The evening sun slanted into her eyes, nearing its final hurrah before twilight settled in. She narrowly sidestepped a small group of giggling, ragged-looking youngsters as they approached. They barrelled past her on the sidewalk, their little voices echoing in her ears long after they slipped from view, leaving her filled with a nameless longing. The sultry breeze picked up a little, tossing her hair about and cooling her damp forehead. Where the heck was she, she wondered, peering up at the many colourful jellybean row houses that lined the narrow, steeply inclined street. The delicious aroma of roasted chicken wafted down from one of the windows, making her mouth water. She took a chance on turning around and trying to find her way back the way she came.

  Hmm. But which way was that? On the other side of the street, a young couple strolled hand in hand, absorbed in animated conversation. They didn’t seem to notice her. A dark sedan drove slowly by, its male driver glancing in her direction. A hot burst of sweat popped out all over her body as she averted her eyes. Hoping to appear as if she knew where she was going, she picked a direction and strode off purposefully.

  The dark sedan made a U-turn. Samantha threw a look over her shoulder, confirming her fear that the car was following her. Adrenaline flooded through her veins as she broke into a run. She swore on herself for being so stupid. She’d made herself a vulnerable target, alone in a strange neighbourhood, and now, she admitted, she was completely lost in the dying light.