Water's Edge

by Genevieve Fortin

  After a long silence, Maurice cleared his throat. “It happens, Emilie. But not only in France. It happens everywhere. A few doctors have even written books about it recently. They call it homosexuality, or Sapphism when they’re referring to two women. It’s a disease many great minds of the world are trying to understand these days. I’m afraid I don’t know much about it myself.”

  “A disease?” Emilie asked with disappointment. She was not sure why she was disappointed but she was. Perhaps she was hoping to learn about a way of life she’d never heard of before. But a disease was not a way of life. It was an affliction. The excitement she felt when she thought about it was therefore even more disturbing than she’d imagined.

  “Yes, a disease. That’s what these doctors think anyway.”

  “And what about you? Do you think it’s a disease?”

  “Oh, I don’t know enough about it to have a real opinion, my dear. I’m sorry. I imagine if they say it is, then it must be.”

  “Hmm, I see. And do you have any of those books those doctors wrote?”

  “No, I don’t, Emilie. I’m sorry. But what makes you so curious about this?”

  Emilie couldn’t help but note accusation in Maurice’s question so she quickly brushed it off. “Oh, it’s just that I’d never read anything like that before. You know me; I’m always trying to understand new things.”

  Maurice smiled but his piercing eyes were still questioning. Emilie was released from his inquisitive stare when Helen arrived with a carefully wrapped box. “I heard it was someone’s birthday today,” she said as she took Nana off the table and handed it to Emilie so she could place the mysterious box in its place on the table.

  “Oh, yes, that’s right,” Emilie admitted as she felt her cheeks flush again. Emilie welcomed the much more familiar embarrassment.

  “Happy birthday, my dear Emilie,” Maurice said calmly as he stood up to hug her.

  “Happy birthday Emilie!” Helen added with more excitement. “We wanted to spoil you a little. Please, go ahead and open it,” she said as she tapped her index finger on the white cardboard of the box.

  Emilie did open it and her eyes opened wide as she found three miniature fruit tarts. She’d seen the delicate pastries in the bakery’s window many times on her way to Maurice and Helen’s house, but she’d never dared enter the bakery, knowing she couldn’t afford the luxury. One of these fruit tarts would probably cost as much as she earned in a day at the mill. She started salivating as she realized she was about to get the chance to finally taste one of these fabulous tarts. “Oh, thank you so much. You shouldn’t have.”

  “Of course we should,” Maurice said as he took a tart out of the box and handed it to Emilie. Maurice and Helen sat side by side on the rocking chairs with their own tarts but didn’t take a bite, staring at Emilie.

  She understood that they wanted to watch as she tasted her first fruit tart so she smiled and went for her first bite. She chewed on that first morsel for as long as she could, savoring every explosion of each small fruit, identifying each individual flavor first, then enjoying them as one. The taste was rich, sweet, and a little bitter all at once. “It’s perfection,” she finally said when she swallowed. Satisfied, Maurice and Helen laughed and started eating their own pastries.

  After they enjoyed their dessert and talked with Helen for about an hour, Maurice took Emilie back to Flint. The ride was mostly in silence as it was often the case, which gave Emilie the opportunity to come back down from the emotion of her unexpected birthday celebration. She went back to the brief conversation she had with Maurice regarding homosexuality and Sapphism—two words she’d learned today—and she couldn’t help but feel disillusioned.

  For the first time since she’d met Maurice, she was disappointed in him. Not because he didn’t know much about the subject. At an earlier time Emilie might have thought Maurice knew everything but she knew enough about the world now to understand that was impossible. What was disappointing was the complete disinterest he had for the subject. He obviously didn’t care if he ever learned more about the question and certainly didn’t want to talk about it. That much was clear. It was a disease and that was the end of it.

  The problem was that it couldn’t be the end of it for Emilie. The relationship between Nana and Satin had piqued her curiosity and she wanted, needed to learn more about it. She didn’t know how she would go about it but she was glad she’d learned two new words from Maurice. Homosexuality and Sapphism. That’s all Maurice had given her but she would hold on to these words until she found a way to research them.

  Emilie had been bitterly reminded today that she couldn’t learn everything from one person. She loved Maurice and had kept nothing from him until now. This research she would have to do without him. On her own. For the first time in the three years since she’d met the Banvilles, Emilie felt alone in her thirst for knowledge.

  Emilie hadn’t even stopped by home before she went to the buttonwood tree where she was to meet Angeline later that afternoon. She’d spent the last hour sitting alone under the tree, leaning against its trunk. She hadn’t taken a book out of her mailbag to read. She wasn’t even sure which books she’d picked out of Maurice’s library before she’d left. He didn’t have the books she wanted to read, so it didn’t matter.

  She stared at the Quequechan River flowing in front of her. The way the water sparkled on such a sunny day almost allowed her to forget how soiled it was, saturated with debris from the several cotton mills that used its strong flow to power their machines. “Men take what they need and don’t care about the consequences,” Emilie grumbled as she tried to focus on the beautiful dancing diamonds the light of the sun created on the surface of the river. That was the problem with knowledge. Once you knew what was hiding under the surface, it was almost impossible to appreciate superficial beauty.

  Emilie felt corrupted. The books she’d read had exposed her to realities Angeline, Joseph and most other people in Flint knew nothing about. That’s what she’d wanted. More knowledge. But everyone around her seemed so happy in their absence of knowledge. They were in love, they went to dances, they swam in the river without a care in the world. She remained alone with all of her knowledge, sitting miserably under a tree. Yet she still needed to know more. Even though she already knew what she wanted to learn about now would only corrupt her further.

  Love between women. Disease or not, Emilie had to know more about it. It was personal. There was a reason why this kind of love provoked such a visceral reaction in her while the love she’d read about all of her life, the love between a man and a woman, had been nothing but an ideal she could formulate without any emotion. She feared the reason, but still needed to know it. She might never be able to look at herself the same way. Might see nothing but garbage inside, just like when she looked at the river. But she still needed to know.

  “Hi, have you been waiting for long?” Angeline asked as she arrived and sat by Emilie.

  She wore a green skirt with a light beige bodice decorated with pink flowers. The same pink as the ribbon on her straw hat. Her thick mass of light brown hair was gathered in a chignon under her hat, with a few curls escaping and highlighting her long exposed neck. Emilie tried to visualize how Satin might have caressed that neck. She wondered if it was the same way she’d wanted to caress it for as long as she could remember. A way she’d thought innocent. She’d never imagined darker needs might hide behind that simple desire to touch Angeline until now. “I came early. I needed some time to think. You look lovely.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you enjoy the dance last night?”

  “Yes, it was very pleasant. Your brother was a perfect gentleman, as always. Marcella came with Tony Berardi. Can you believe it?” Angeline giggled but not with the same contagious lightness as usual. Something was bothering her.

  “Actually yes, I can believe it. Those two idiots deserve each other.”

  Angeline’s laughter was a little more sincere t
his time but something in her expression didn’t sit well with Emilie. She looked sad. Emilie couldn’t stand seeing Angeline sad and if her brother was responsible for that cloudy veil in her pretty blue eyes, he would pay for it. “Are you sure nothing happened, Angeline? You look upset.”

  Angeline sighed. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Emilie shook her head to confirm Angeline’s suspicion that she couldn’t keep secrets from her and was grateful that it was not reciprocal. If Angeline could see the dark secrets Emilie was hiding from her now, she’d probably run away.

  Angeline smiled briefly and continued, “I’m upset, but it has nothing to do with last night. My parents are going back to Rimouski. They told us after church. My father’s been trying to get a job with The Price Company for a couple of years and something finally opened up.”

  “That’s the sawmill, right?”

  “Yes. The pay’s good and it’s the perfect occasion for them to finally go back home.”

  Emilie could hear the distress in Angeline’s voice but she had to appease her own worries before she could begin to properly comfort her friend. The knots were multiplying in her throat and soon she wouldn’t be able to breathe if she didn’t ask. “Are you going with them, Angeline?”

  “No,” Angeline said as she looked at Emilie. She must have seen the anxiety her news had caused in Emilie because the sadness in her own eyes was temporarily replaced with tenderness as she reassured her friend, “Oh no, Emilie. I’m not leaving, don’t worry. I’ll be staying with my older sister and her husband. She could use help with the younger children and besides, my wages will help them too until…”

  “Until you get married.”

  “Right. In a few years.”

  “Right.”

  They never talked about Angeline’s eventual marriage to Joseph. They knew it would happen but talking about it always made them uncomfortable. It was almost like death. Everyone knew it would happen, but no one wanted to talk about it.

  “I’ll miss them so much, Emilie,” Angeline said as she started crying. She lay down on her side and placed her head on Emilie’s lap, her hat falling to the ground. Emilie instinctively started rubbing her friend’s back.

  “I know, Angeline, I know. But think about it. In a couple of years you might join them in Rimouski. That’s still Joseph’s plan, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Instead of helping, Emilie’s words made Angeline cry even harder. In a panic, Emilie rubbed Angeline’s back more vigorously. “What? Isn’t that what you want?”

  “I don’t know, Emilie,” Angeline managed to say through sobs. “I’ll miss my parents while I’m still here, but I think I’ll miss you even more if I’m there with them.”

  Angeline cried against Emilie’s skirt and Emilie kept rubbing her back. “I’ll miss you too, my dear Angeline, but I don’t think I’ll be staying in Fall River either, so you can’t stay for me.”

  “Will you be going back to Rimouski?”

  Angeline asked the question with such hope in her sweet little voice that Emilie’s heart broke knowing her answer would crush that hope to pieces.

  “No. There’s nothing in Canada for me, Angeline. I don’t know where I’ll be going yet, but Fall River has nothing to teach me anymore.”

  They stayed like that in silence for a long time. Emilie’s hand caressed slowly the length of Angeline’s back, sometimes venturing to her side. Emilie felt the weight of Angeline’s head press onto her thighs and she feared the skin under the weight would burn a hole through her skirt. She looked at her hand traveling over Angeline’s back and side and fantasized about what it might be like to slide her hand under the fabric of Angeline’s bodice and touch her tender skin. It would be warm and soft, Emilie knew it. She studied the curls on Angeline’s neck and she imagined putting her lips right there, just under the curly hair.

  Emilie’s mouth was dry. She licked her lips and tried to ignore the tingling in her body. The same tingling she’d felt reading and thinking about Nana and Satin.

  Sapphism, she repeated to herself. If it was a disease, she was sick with it. There was no doubt about it. For the first time she wished Joseph would hurry and ask for Angeline’s hand in marriage. She wished he would take her away, safe from her and her perversion. At least until she could learn more about her disease and hopefully find a cure. She didn’t know if such a cure existed but she knew she wouldn’t find it in Fall River. What she’d told Angeline was true: Fall River had nothing to teach her anymore. She needed to find her own direction. Maurice had told her once that it was good to want more as long as she knew what she wanted. She didn’t have a clear path yet, but she’d just made an important decision: when Joseph and Angeline got married and left for Rimouski, she would leave too. She’d use the time she had left to make plans. Perhaps Maurice would help her. He had connections everywhere, after all.

  Emilie was forced out of her thoughts by the sound of light snoring coming from her lap. Emilie stretched out her arm to pick up Angeline’s straw hat and delicately placed it on her friend’s neck to save the pale skin from sunburn. She leaned her own head against the buttonwood tree and closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything but the sensations moving through her body.

  When Angeline got back to the Fourniers’ apartment just before dinner, Joseph was waiting for her in front of the triple-decker. “Can we go for a short walk?” he asked timidly. Angeline accepted Joseph’s offered arm and walked with him back in the direction of the river. “I just spoke to your father. He told me about his decision. How do you feel about it?”

  “Oh, it’s sad, but I know it’s what they want.” Angeline had a lot more to say about her parents leaving Fall River, but she’d already talked about her feelings with Emilie and she didn’t want to talk about them again so soon. Not with Joseph.

  “You know it’s what I want too, Angeline, don’t you? It’s what I want for us.”

  “Yes, I know,” Angeline acknowledged without much enthusiasm. Joseph stopped walking and extended his arm toward an old wooden bench facing the river, silently asking Angeline to sit down. He sat next to her. Angeline immediately tensed up.

  The last time they’d sat on this bench a few weeks ago, Joseph had kissed her on the lips. Their first kiss. It hadn’t been unpleasant but it hadn’t been what Angeline had imagined a first kiss should be either, what she’d hoped her first kiss with Joseph would be. Some kind of deep revelation that she was meant for him and that he was meant for her. An answer to all of her questions. And last but not least, something she’d want to do again and again, something she’d never get enough of. A few weeks later, there had been no second kiss yet and as Angeline realized it was probably about to happen, she sadly had to admit she wasn’t looking forward to it. Joseph seemed just as nervous as she was, and she wasn’t sure if that comforted her or exacerbated her own nerves.

  Joseph cleared his throat before he spoke, “Your father thinks there’s a good chance once he starts at Price he could get me in too. That means our dreams could happen very soon, Angeline.”

  Angeline shifted in her seat. What was about to happen was a lot bigger than a second kiss. She closed her eyes and prayed for Joseph to stop talking but he continued.

  “Your father and I think you and I could be in Rimouski as early as next winter, Angeline. And it might be a good idea to make things official before then.”

  “Official?” Angeline asked in a low voice. She wasn’t ready for Joseph to propose, but could that even be considered as a proposal?

  She didn’t have time to question Joseph’s motives any longer as he stepped up from the bench and dropped to one knee, facing her with a newfound bravery. He grabbed her hand and with his free hand, he searched the deep pocket of his trousers until he took out a gold ring that looked minuscule resting between his index finger and his thumb. “Yes, official. Angeline Fournier, will you marry me?”

  And there it was. The proposal. What had been implied since the first danc
e they’d attended together but always remained distant, at least in Angeline’s mind, was being dropped in her lap the same day she’d found out about her parents leaving town. The same day she’d run not to Joseph but to his sister Emilie to cry out her emotions. The same day she’d learned the moment she’d leave Fall River with Joseph might be the last time she’d see Emilie. It was all too much, yet she couldn’t say no to Joseph. She’d always known she’d have to say yes. “Yes, Joseph, I’ll marry you.”

  Joseph kissed Angeline’s hand and looked at her with that wide smile that reminded her of the boy she’d met, a smile that filled her heart with tenderness. “You’re making me the happiest man on earth, Angeline,” he said as he placed the gold band on her ring finger. “Would you like a fall wedding? Or maybe a Christmas wedding?”

  Angeline couldn’t help but smile at Joseph’s enthusiasm. Joseph would make a good husband and a wonderful father, she was convinced of it. So why was she digging through her mind for a way to delay the wedding? “I don’t want to decide yet. Once my father gets you a job at The Price Company, I’ll go back to Rimouski with you and we can get married there. That’s what I really want, Joseph. Can you wait until then?”

  “I’ll wait as long as it takes, Angeline,” Joseph answered as he got up from the ground and sat down next to her. “It makes perfect sense for us to get married in Rimouski. I should have thought of that myself. That’s where our life will be, after all. It won’t take long, you’ll see.”

  Angeline looked at the simple gold band textured with a subtle flower motif, and felt slightly guilty for letting Joseph believe her reasons for wanting to get married in Rimouski were sentimental and romantic. The truth was that she was simply buying time. Her father had waited two years to finally get a job at Price. Maybe it would take Joseph just as long.