Chloe Sparrow

by Lesley Crewe

“How do you overcome this obstacle?”

  “I go to my mom’s for dinner.”

  “That’s what I’ll do. I’m calling her as soon as you hang up.”

  He laughs. “Do it. She’d love to have you over.”

  “I’m joking.”

  “Seriously, she thinks you’re great. Give her a shout.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  There’s a long pause on his end.

  “Are you still there?”

  “I let Becky and Rebecca go this week, but last night it was Sydney. She cried and cried. This whole thing sucks.”

  “Please don’t quit on me.”

  “What difference would it make?”

  “It’s my show, Austin. It’s the only thing I have, I need it to succeed.”

  He doesn’t speak.

  “Obviously, if you feel you can’t continue, then there’s nothing I can do about it, but I hope you’ll reconsider.”

  “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  “If you need to talk, I’m always right here. I’m your friend, Austin. I care about you.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course. Who else comes to my rescue once a week?”

  “I better go. Take care of yourself.”

  “Ditto.”

  He chuckles before we lose the connection. I immediately call Amanda.

  “You nearly killed Austin?”

  “So he told you.”

  “Wasn’t it your job to tell me?”

  “What were you going to do about it in Toronto? He’s fine.”

  “Is he? He sounded pretty down about letting Sydney go.”

  “We were all in tears. She’s such a big softie and it was terrible, but that’s the way reality shows work. People get hurt. Did you go see Jason?”

  “I forgot.”

  “Chloe, I’m busting my ass here breathing in dust and the smell of cow dung. The least you can do is see if my husband and children are all right.”

  “You don’t text them every ten minutes?”

  “That’s not the point!”

  “Fine. I’ll go tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, too. I’m sure you’re doing a great job.”

  “Better than you.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  It takes me all morning to make brownies for Jason and the kids. I’ve used every bowl in the kitchen. I know my mother’s interfering, because I put the wooden spoon on a trivet but when I go to get it, it’s beside the mixer. Then the measuring cup falls to the floor and I am not anywhere near it.

  I wish you’d stop! It’s not like you ever baked me brownies.

  Nothing happens after that.

  Gramps does me a favour and drives me over to Jason’s house so I don’t have to get on the bus with a plateful of brownies. He demands two as payment and ruins my presentation. I shut the car door and lean through the open window.

  “Thanks. Can you pick me up or shall I take the bus?”

  “Get the bus. Ollie and I are heeding your advice and going out to eat and then catching the early show at the cinema.”

  My mouth drops open. “For real? That’s great! What are you going to see?”

  “Something called Bridesmaids.”

  My mouth closes. Do not dissuade him. “Have fun.”

  When I ring the doorbell, Jason shouts from inside, “It’s not locked.”

  I open the door and take in the chaos at my feet. “Shouldn’t you find out who’s here before you invite them in?”

  “You see that stuff on the floor? It’s a trap for burglars. I’m in the kitchen.”

  When I creep through the debris and enter the kitchen, the entire scene is adorable. The place is a mess. The boys are in their highchairs. J. J. is nodding off with a plastic spoon in his fist while Callum stirs yogurt on his tray with his chubby hands. Jason is sitting down between them holding a jar of goop, with a dishcloth flung over his shoulder. He looks like he slept in his clothes.

  “What have you got there? Please say it’s adult food.”

  “I’m not sure if the boys are allowed brownies, but I took a chance.”

  “Never mind the boys. Hand them over.”

  I unfurl my creation and place the plate on the table in front of him. Jason grabs one and pops it in his mouth. He makes a face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You forgot the sugar.”

  “Damn! Did I?”

  “Yep, I’m eating them anyway. Pour me a glass of milk so I can choke these down.”

  I do as I’m told, but then grab my cell and take a picture of them. “I’m sending this to Amanda so she knows you’re okay.”

  “Does this look okay to you? I can’t see out of my glasses because I have snot smeared on them.”

  “Let me help.” I gingerly take them off his head and carry them between my fingertips over to the sink and wash them with hot, soapy water, whereupon I gingerly place them back on his nose.

  “Oh, hi, Chloe. I didn’t realize it was you.”

  I sit back at the table. “Amanda misses you three terribly. I’ve heard her cry sometimes in the bathroom after she’s talked to you. How are you managing?”

  “We’re okay. The boys aren’t in daycare because they have colds. I work from home when that happens, not that much goes on until they’re tucked in. Look, if you don’t mind, I need a wicked piss.” He passes me the jar and spoon. “Just put it in his mouth. He knows what to do after that.”

  Away he goes and I’m left with this child staring at me.

  “Hello.”

  Callum bangs on the tray with both hands.

  “Okay, sorry. Here you go.”

  I put some unknown substance on his spoon and slowly bring it closer to his face. He seems fascinated by this process. I’m afraid I’m going to hurt him so I inch forward and he does the same. We meet very carefully in the middle, and then he grabs the spoon with his teeth and won’t let it go.

  “Okay, Callum. I need the spoon.”

  He grins at me while keeping it locked in his teeth and then he shakes his head like a dog with its favourite rag. The only thing I can do is let go of the spoon and watch. He waits for a reaction, but I’m stumped. As long as he doesn’t stick it down his throat I’ll wait for his father to come back. He senses the game is over and spits out the spoon, so I grab it and offer him something from another jar. He turns his face away from me slowly, like that girl in The Exorcist.

  When Jason reappears I point at the kid. “Why’s he doing that?”

  “You’ve obviously never given a toddler green beans.”

  “I must introduce him to my Aunt Ollie.”

  We hear the front door open and a guy shouts, “Jason!”

  “In here, man.”

  Steve appears in the doorway. We both do a double take.

  “You’re busy,” he says. “I can come back.”

  “No, we’re not. You remember Chloe, Amanda’s friend. This is my brother-in-law, Steve.”

  “Hi, Chloe. Nice to see you again.”

  “You too.”

  “Sit down, what brings you here? Got the day off?” Jason wipes Callum’s face and hands with the dishcloth.

  “Yeah.”

  “While you guys talk, I’ll do some dishes,” I say.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s no problem.” Anything to keep myself busy.

  Steve sits down. “I came to pick up the DVD.”

  “Which one?”

  “Game of Thrones.”

  “It’s upstairs. Let me get it for you.”

  Jason leaves the room while I collect the dishes, and Steve talks to his youngest nephew, since J. J. is out cold.

  “Hey there, buddy! High-fi
ve.” Callum sticks out his hand and high-fives him.

  “That is amazing! Did you teach him that?”

  “No, his dad, but watch this.” He takes out his cellphone. “Find Angry Birds.”

  The kid takes the phone and swipes the screen a few times, presses a button, and the game pops up. This floors me.

  “Do you mean to tell me that babies know how to work these gadgets?”

  “Hey, it’s in their DNA. They’ll never know anything else.”

  I fill the sink with hot water. “That’s sort of scary. It makes me feel old.”

  “Before Jason gets back…do you want to go out for lunch? I know a greasy spoon that injects fat into their poutine.”

  This makes me laugh, which is dangerous. “It’s probably not a good idea.”

  “For who?”

  “Me, you, Amanda…”

  “I’m not taking you to the Ritz-Carlton.”

  I hear Jason running down the stairs.

  “All right.”

  J. J. wakes up and doesn’t see his dad, so he shrieks, but then stops the instant Jason appears.

  “Hey Steve, give me a hand with them. They need their diapers changed.”

  The two big guys and two little guys leave the kitchen and I have room to really go to town. I hate housework, but doing it in someone else’s house is less painful. By the time they come back, I’ve even mopped the floor. I take a picture of it to show Amanda, but then delete it. Show-offs are pathetic.

  Jason thanks me profusely. “This makes up for the godawful brownies.”

  “Good. I should shove off.”

  “Can I drop you off anywhere, Chloe? It’s no problem,” Steve says.

  “Okay, thanks.” I give Jason a kiss. “You’re a great guy. Amanda is very lucky.”

  “Yes. Yes she is.”

  “See ya, bro.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the DVD.”

  Steve is driving a sports car, but don’t ask me what kind. He opens the door and I get in. Once he’s behind the wheel, he smiles at me.

  “This is nice.”

  “I have the solution to your money problems. Sell the car.”

  He winces. “Damn. You break my balls every time.”

  “Just sayin’.”

  The poutine is to die for. We stuff our faces and talk about absolutely nothing. At one point he reaches over and caresses my hand.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know where it’s been.”

  “You are the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met. You say whatever comes into your head regardless of how I might take it.”

  “You’re spending your days doing God-knows-what, to God-knows-who. It’s a valid observation.”

  He slaps the table. “You see what I mean? You state the absolute truth and yet it doesn’t feel like an insult.”

  “What I’m trying to understand is, why you do this. I understand the circumstances that make some people resort to desperate behaviour, but you’re not desperate. You can come clean to your family, tell them you lost your job and are seeking another. You can sell your car to hold you over until you receive a salary again. It’s not that difficult.”

  “Other people’s problems are easy to solve. Take you, for instance. You want to know what it’s like to have sex. I offered to help you—”

  ”It wasn’t out of the goodness of your heart! You cost me four hundred bucks.”

  “You’re right. Why didn’t you let me earn it?”

  “You’re Amanda’s brother. And I was hurt by what you said.”

  “I was completely out of line. Now that I know you, I think you’re very special. Any guy with half a brain would snap you up in a minute.”

  “Take me home, please.”

  I walk out of the restaurant and stand by his car until he comes out and unlocks it for me. Before I get in he says, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He goes off, but before I work up the nerve to jump out, he jumps back in. We don’t say anything while he drives me home. When we arrive, Gramps’s car is still gone.

  “Look, I’m not proud of myself…”

  “Shut up, Steve.” I lunge over the gearshift, grab his face, and kiss him smack on the mouth. It takes him about half a second to respond in kind. I’m not sure how long we’re at it before I realize that Norman, my next-door neighbour, is peering at us through his opera glasses.

  “Let’s go.”

  I jump out of the car and Steve follows. My fingers aren’t working as I try to unlock my front door. He has to help me. The minute we close the door, my Mary-Ellen is crying for attention. We’re waltzing down the hall trying to take each other’s clothes off kissing the entire time. He pushes me into the living room.

  “No! My dad’s chair is in there.”

  “Okay, where?”

  We continue to bounce back and forth off the walls until we reach the next room. “God, no! That’s Mom’s study.”

  We go a little farther. “How about in here?” He’s kissing my ear when Dad’s library door slams shut in front of us.

  He looks incredulous. “Holy shit! Did you see that?”

  I kiss him back to attention. “It’s my father, the ghost. Kiss me.”

  He kisses me all right and then comes up for air. “Remind me to ask you about this later.”

  “Okay.” Smooch.

  “What about your room?”

  “Never!”

  He turns me around. “There can’t be that many places left. “The kitchen?”

  “Okay. I never eat in there.”

  We stumble past the bathroom and hall closet, tripping over our dripping clothes. We get to the kitchen and my mess is all over the kitchen table. “Sorry, I’ll clear this up.”

  He takes his arm and sweeps everything on the floor. “There. Problem solved.”

  And that’s how I lost my cherry: on top of a table covered in flour.

  We’re dressed and drinking Coke at the now-infamous kitchen table. We even picked up the dishes and washed them.

  “So, how was it? Did you get your money’s worth?”

  “How would I know? I’ve never done it before.”

  He shakes his head. “You have no feminine wiles at all.”

  “It’s a terrible question. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer it if you were gone before my grandfather gets home. He’s old-fashioned.”

  “Right.”

  We both get up from the table.

  “I want to give you something first.” He reaches into his pocket. “Here’s your money back.”

  “Keep it. You earned it.”

  He presses it into my hand. “Tonight I was on personal time.”

  I walk him to the door. He reaches out to touch my chin. “Will I see you again?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Good night, Chloe.”

  “Good night.”

  I close the door and wait for him to drive away before I go back out on the porch and sit in my rocking chair. It’s a glorious summer evening. The sunset is purple and pink and casts a blush-coloured hue over the street, while the trees are outlined in black against the sky.

  Now that I’m a member of the club, do I feel any different? I’m grateful that this is off my to-do list, but I’m not sure what the fuss is all about. Getting to the kitchen table was fun, but once I was on it, it was no great shakes.

  Gramps’s car drives slowly down the street and turns into the driveway. Once they get out and start up the stairs, I ask them how the movie was.

  “It was a riot!” Aunt Ollie laughs.

  “What did you think, Gramps?”

  “Best snooze I’ve had in years. By the way, those brownies were crap.”

  A few days later in the ear
ly afternoon I’m burning rice in my kitchen. The smoke alarm goes off and I flap the back door that leads out to my balcony. Aunt Ollie shouts out her kitchen window.

  “Is your house on fire?”

  “Sorry! The rice burned.”

  “Health food will kill you. We’re having sausages tonight.”

  “No, thanks.”

  The phone rings. It’s Austin’s mother, Harriet.

  “Would you like to come over for supper tonight? It’s nothing special, but Austin thought you might like some company.”

  “That’s so sweet.” I glance at the bottom of my pot, which is black as coal. “I’d love to.”

  It’s only about twenty minutes to get to Markham, where the Hawkes live. I leave a little early so I can pick up some flowers at the supermarket. When I arrive with a bouquet of Shasta daisies, she’s thrilled.

  “Look at that beautiful pink colour! Thank you, they’re lovely. I’ll put these in a vase.”

  We head towards the back of the house. It’s an ordinary bungalow style, but the mature trees outside make it feel private on this busy street.

  She tends to the flowers and puts them on the dining room table. “Please sit. I’m not sure if Julia is joining us or not. She’s a free spirit—or a kook, according to her brother.” She disappears and comes back with a large casserole dish. “I made macaroni and cheese. Austin tells me you’re a vegetarian, so I thought this might be best.”

  “You’re very kind. It looks delicious.”

  She fills my plate with cheesy wonder and offers warm tea biscuits and butter, and then sits down and serves herself. “Do you mind if I give thanks?”

  “Certainly not.” I bow my head.

  “Thank you, oh Lord, for these thy gifts we are about to receive. Amen.”

  After taking my first mouthful, I’m in heaven. “Oh, Mrs. Hawke, this is divine.”

  “Call me Harriet, dear.”

  “I can make Kraft Dinner, but that’s it.”

  “You live on your own, then? How old are you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “You and Julia are the same age. Tell me, how did your mother get you out of the house? I’m looking for pointers.”

  “She died.”

  “Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry, and here I am joking.”

  “That’s okay, you didn’t know. My dad died on the same day. It was an accident.”