Water's Edge

by Genevieve Fortin

  “Renald, hi. Welcome.”

  “Thank you, Emilie. Hello, Mrs. Levesque,” the doctor greeted Angeline. “Father Roy,” he said with a nod, obviously surprised by the priest’s presence.

  “Doctor Michaud,” the priest replied with a similar nod.

  Emilie was relieved to see the priest and doctor didn’t seem overly friendly toward each other. Their greetings had been polite, but cold. Renald’s reaction led her to believe they both could probably add a certain aversion to men of cloth in general and to Father Roy in particular to the already long list of things they had in common.

  They all sat at the table and Emilie served soup with bread and butter. During lunch Father Roy and Doctor Michaud took turns to make pleasant and amiable conversation with both women and the children, who were as well behaved as children were expected to be in such situations. Emilie glanced a few times at Angeline, who seemed uncomfortable in the presence of the two men who represented the highest forms of authority in their town, but still smiled with pride at the way her children acted.

  After lunch Angeline made tea and the children went upstairs to play. Emilie was holding Noelle as they shared tea and the priest came dangerously closer to the topic of conversation he was most interested in. Emilie had hoped he wouldn’t dare talk about such a personal matter as marriage in front of the doctor, but she should have known better. Father Roy was not here for pleasantries.

  “I was hoping, Angeline, that you had considered what we discussed last time.”

  “I have,” Angeline started anxiously before a knock on the door surprised them.

  Emilie went to answer and was relieved to see Pierre Fournier. “Father Roy, Doctor Michaud, I thought I recognized your horses. I’m sorry to interrupt but I couldn’t pass up the chance to say hello. It’s not every day a priest and a doctor are both under my daughter’s roof, you know,” Pierre said with a chuckle as he removed his boots and coat and made himself comfortable sitting across from both men at the table.

  Emilie saw Pierre place a large hand on his daughter’s and noticed the grateful smile she gave him in return. The three men started talking about town matters and bought Angeline and Emilie precious time until the name of Stanislas Pelletier was brought up. Mr. Pelletier’s wife had died recently after giving birth to their second child and all three men around the kitchen table agreed about the great tragedy the situation represented.

  “Such a good man, that Stan,” Pierre said as he shook his head. “And all alone to take care of two children and his farm. It’s not fair.”

  “I hear his sisters have been of great support,” Renald said, trying to shed a positive light on the widower’s circumstances and making Emilie proud to call him a friend.

  “Sisters who have families of their own to take care of,” argued the priest. “What Stanislas needs is a new wife.”

  Here we go, Emilie thought. Now was her chance to act. An idea had been taking shape in her mind as she’d listened to the men talk, an idea that only the doctor’s presence made possible and that she found more and more ingenious. His participation was crucial to its realization, of course. So was Pierre’s, but for some reason she trusted Pierre would do the right thing. She just needed to talk to Angeline alone before she put her brilliant plan into motion. She took advantage of Noelle’s quiet whimpers to excuse herself and went to the bedroom.

  “Angeline, could you please come here for a second? I need help with Noelle,” Angeline heard Emilie call out from the bedroom. Relieved that she’d been temporarily saved, once again, from the priest’s questions, she quickly excused herself and joined Emilie.

  “What is it?” she asked as she saw that Noelle was already in her crib and seemed content. Emilie put her hands on Angeline’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length, staring into her eyes as if she were trying to read through her. “What is it, Emilie? We have guests.”

  “I know we have guests, Angeline. But I need you to answer me one question before we go back out there. One very important question that you have to answer with the absolute truth, you hear me?”

  Angeline nervously locked her gaze on Emilie’s. She feared the question, but it seemed important to Emilie so she agreed. “All right, what is it?”

  “Promise me you’ll answer truthfully,” Emilie repeated, slightly tightening her grip on Angeline’s shoulders.

  “I promise.”

  “Do you want to get married again and have more children? Yes or no?”

  “No,” Angeline answered without hesitation, relieved that the question was one she could answer so easily. She didn’t want to get married to Stan or any other man. She wanted to sort through her feelings for Emilie and find a way to live happily with her. She didn’t know what level of intimacy she felt comfortable having with Emilie yet, but she knew she loved Emilie, and no one else.

  “No, I don’t want to get married, Emilie. I still want our life. I love you.” She hadn’t meant to say it in this moment, and judging by the dark red color on Emilie’s cheeks, she hadn’t expected to hear it either, but it was said, and it was true.

  “All right. That’s all I needed to hear. Now let me do the talking, will you?”

  Angeline nodded. Emilie had a plan, and Angeline trusted it would get her what they wanted, so she nodded. She watched Emilie close her eyes and take a deep breath to ready herself, then followed her back to the kitchen.

  “Stan is a good man, Father Roy. I was the first to say so earlier, but Angeline doesn’t know him,” Pierre was explaining to the priest when the women sat down again at the table.

  “She’ll get to know him, Pierre. Surely she’ll learn to appreciate his qualities,” the priest insisted.

  “I don’t doubt that if Stanislas Pelletier is as good a man as you all say he is, Angeline would be very happy with him,” Emilie started.

  Shocked, Angeline threw a furious glare in her direction, but Emilie wasn’t looking at her. She was staring at the priest.

  Then Emilie lowered her gaze and smiled sadly before she continued, “Unfortunately I’m not sure Stanislas would be quite as happy with her, considering the circumstances.”

  “Why wouldn’t Stan be happy with my daughter?” Pierre asked defensively.

  Angeline squinted at Emilie, wondering where she was going, but Emilie continued to ignore her. Emilie covered Pierre’s hand with hers to calm him.

  “Pierre, I know we didn’t want people to know, but don’t you think we should say something now before some poor man marries Angeline? It wouldn’t be fair to him.” At Pierre’s puzzled look, Emilie continued before he had a chance to say anything, turning to Doctor Michaud next. “Renald, I know we asked you to be discreet but I think Father Roy deserves to know the truth now.”

  Doctor Michaud seemed as puzzled as her father but straightened up in his seat, on alert.

  Emilie turned back to the priest.

  “Father Roy, the truth is that Noelle’s birth was a very difficult one. Doctor Michaud managed to save both child and mother, but I’m afraid Angeline can’t have any more children.” Emilie spoke solemnly and wiped fake tears with the back of her hand.

  All three men turned to Angeline and she lowered her head. She hoped they would see her stance as one of pain and sorrow, but the truth was that Angeline was scared she might laugh if she met any of their gazes, especially Emilie’s.

  She didn’t condone lying, especially to a priest, but it was for a good cause. Besides, the numerous miscarriages she’d gone through during her marriage with Joseph led her to believe giving Stanislas Pelletier more children might not have been as easy as Father Roy had hoped. Her reasoning helped her accept the lie.

  “Is that true?” Angeline heard the priest ask. When she looked up, she saw his stare go from her father to Doctor Michaud.

  Both men cleared their throat nervously but Doctor Michaud was the first to speak. “Yes, it is,” he affirmed with an understanding side glance at Emilie. He grew more confident in his own deceit as h
e continued, “Angeline lost a lot of blood and the placenta wouldn’t dislodge so I was forced to perform an emergency hysterectomy.”

  The priest wrinkled his nose in disgust and waved his hand in the doctor’s face. He’d obviously heard enough of the medical details. He turned to Pierre next.

  Angeline watched as her father studied her first, then Emilie. In that very moment, in the tender smile that followed his scrutiny, Angeline could swear her father understood the nature of her relationship with Emilie. He might never imagine they could be or had been intimate with each other, but he knew they wanted to keep living together as they had. He knew they wanted to share their lives. She smiled back at him and when he nodded she knew he would support them.

  “Yes, Father, it’s all true. We didn’t want to talk about it because Angeline was embarrassed. She felt like she was less of a woman, as you probably understand.” He never took his eyes off Angeline as he spoke, and she offered him a grateful smile.

  The priest nodded with forced compassion, then he sighed. “You gave God’s family four beautiful children, my child. That’s something.” He then looked at Emilie and hesitated before he dared asking. “I don’t imagine you’re interested in marriage, young lady? You might find a husband if you grew your hair as nature intended.”

  “Me?” Emilie scoffed incredulously. “Oh no. I’ll be back in Boston eventually. If I marry it will be there,” she lied.

  Angeline found it difficult not to chuckle.

  “Well, I guess I’ll go back to town without a wife for that poor widower,” Father Roy declared as he stood up. “Thank you for the soup, Miss Levesque. It was delicious.”

  “You’re welcome,” Emilie said as she went to get his coat, still as cold as it had been when he’d arrived.

  “Stan will find a wife, Father. I’m certain of it,” Pierre assured the priest as they all stood at the door to bid their good-byes.

  “I hope you’re right, Pierre.”

  Once the priest left, Emilie and Angeline thanked the doctor and Angeline’s father for going along with Emilie’s story. Doctor Michaud seemed amused by Emilie’s cleverness.

  Pierre was more shaken by the turn of events but nonetheless declared, “I do think there is such a thing as a white lie, and I trust God will look kindly on this one. I don’t want you to marry anyone you don’t love, my girl, and I know you’re happy living here quietly with your friend. You and Emilie are good for each other, and I’ll support the two of you in any way I can.”

  Angeline hugged her father tightly, grateful for his kind nature and his blessing. The words he murmured to her ear, however, surprised her. “Love is love, my girl.”

  Long after he and the doctor were gone, she wondered what her father had meant. Did he understand even more than Angeline had thought? Did he know she loved Emilie with all of her heart, the way she’d been expected to love a man? The way she hadn’t been able to love anyone else, not even Joseph? Or did he simply mean that friendship was another form of love, one that was also worth defending? She would never know what her father really meant and would never ask, but one thing was certain: no one would ever come to threaten her life with Emilie again. She would never be forced to marry another man, and Emilie would never be forced to leave her. The thought left her heart light with hope.

  They went through the rest of their day and Angeline noticed that Emilie seemed as lighthearted as she was, laughing freely at anything Angeline or the children said. Angeline loved hearing her laugh. That night, when they got ready for bed and Emilie started to climb the stairs to join the children, who were already asleep, Angeline stopped her by grabbing her hand.

  Emilie turned to her. “Did I forget anything?”

  “No. I was hoping,” Angeline started nervously, fearing Emilie’s response.

  “What were you hoping, Angeline?”

  “I was hoping you’d sleep in the bedroom with me.” Angeline caressed Emilie’s hand with her thumb and squeezed it lightly as she licked her lips, dry from apprehension.

  “Tonight?” Emilie asked, incredulous.

  “Every night,” Angeline answered in a whisper.

  Emilie took a step toward Angeline and joined their free hands. “Are you sure? I don’t think I could go through you changing your mind again.”

  Angeline freed one hand to place a finger on Emilie’s lips. “Shh, I won’t change my mind, my love.” Emilie’s lips formed a smile under her finger. “I never really changed my mind, Emilie, but I couldn’t see how we could keep living the way we were. I was afraid it would all be taken away from us, so I kept it from happening myself before anyone else could. It was wrong of me.”

  “It’s understandable,” Emilie started despite Angeline’s finger still pressing on her lips.

  Angeline replaced her finger with her lips to stop Emilie from talking. She noted her kiss was less hesitant than the first one she’d initiated. She knew the amount of pressure Emilie liked, and she knew how to use her tongue to tease a whimper of pleasure out of her.

  When she heard the sound she’d wanted to provoke, she interrupted the kiss to continue her statement. “It was wrong of me, Emilie,” she whispered. “I should have trusted you.”

  “That’s right,” Emilie agreed as she tried to resume the kiss that had apparently left her hungry.

  Angeline dodged Emilie’s lips and brought her mouth to Emilie’s ear instead. “I should have trusted that you’d find a way. What you did today secured our lives, Emilie. It made me see once and for all that I can let myself love you. That I can let you love me. And that you’ll always find a way to protect our love.”

  Angeline looked at her then and was surprised to see tears in her eyes. Emilie closed her eyes as if to hide her emotion. Angeline kissed each of her eyelids before bringing her lips to the wrinkle between her eyebrows, the wrinkle she’d grown so fond of.

  When Emilie opened her eyes again, her lips quivered as she spoke, “I’m so happy you can finally see it. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep our love safe. Always.”

  “I know now. Please, come to bed with me.”

  They shared another kiss. It was soft, unhurried and sensual. Each movement of their tongues, each brush of their lips was filled with love. It was the kiss that marked the beginning of their own kind of marriage, one Angeline had no doubt would grow and make them blissfully happy. Still holding Emilie’s hand, she pulled her toward the bedroom and Emilie followed willingly. They would never sleep apart again. Angeline knew.

  Epilogue

  Rimouski, July 1906

  “It’s my birthday today, Joseph,” Emilie said to her brother as she placed a bouquet of wild daisies in front of his humble tombstone. She knelt on the ground that covered her brother’s body and took a deep breath.

  “We’re happy, Joseph. I know you see it from wherever you are. I hope you’re happy for us. Sometimes I’m scared you hate me but then I remember that of all of us, you always had the best heart. You are happy for us, aren’t you?”

  Emilie sighed. When Angeline had asked her what she’d like to do on her twenty-seventh birthday, Emilie had surprised both of them by saying she wanted to visit her brother’s grave. She’d been to his grave when she’d first arrived in Rimouski but the visit had been brief. Her pain over his death had been too recent and she’d found staring at a cold tombstone unbearable. Today she felt the need to speak to her brother, to explain herself, and to ask for his forgiveness.

  “You see, you’re not the only one who fell in love with Angeline the day she saved you from those Irish bastards,” she said with a chuckle thinking of the day Joseph had confessed his love for Angeline as he walked her to the Banvilles.

  “I dreamed of being with her, just like you. And I was so jealous when your dream came true, when you took Angeline from me and brought her here. That day, Joseph, my own dream was shattered. That’s why I called you a coward. I was blinded by my own jealousy. You’d won. And I hated you for it. I will always regret the way I
reacted and the way I treated you. I’m so sorry, Joseph.” She started crying. She cried for a long time, releasing all of the guilt she’d felt through the years over the last time she’d spoken to her brother.

  “The funny thing is, I think your dream needed to come true first before mine could come true. I didn’t know it then, but my dream was flawed. It turns out your dream was better, brother. I’m starting to love this place as much as you’ve always loved it. And if your dream hadn’t come true, I would never have known Paul, Victor, Marie-Ange and Noelle. You have four beautiful, smart, wonderful children, Joseph. You’d be so proud of them.” Emilie smiled tenderly as thoughts of the children rushed through her mind.

  “Don’t go thinking I’m glad you died so I could have it all, though. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish you were alive, my dear brother. I wish you could see your children grow up. I wish you could meet Noelle. Most of all I wish I could ask for your forgiveness in person. I would fight you for Angeline’s love, Joseph, don’t you doubt it. I would fight with all I have. But I would do it honestly, and openly.”

  She paused and took one daisy out of the bouquet, caressing it as she gathered her thoughts. “I hope you can see I love her the way she deserves to be loved, the way I’m sure you loved her too. I’ll protect her, and cherish her, for as long as I live. I hope that you can find comfort in knowing that, even if you can’t forgive me.”

  “He forgives you,” Emilie heard Angeline say behind her as she felt a hand on her shoulder. “More than anything, your brother wanted me to be happy. He sees how happy you make me, Emilie. He forgives you.”

  Emilie looked up to Angeline and smiled. Angeline smiled back and then she asked, “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” Emilie put the lone daisy back on top of the bouquet and stood up. “I love you, brother.” She kissed her hand and bent forward to place her palm on the tombstone.