by Alice Walsh
“And you have a sitter?”
“The university has an excellent childcare facility,” Jade said, “and I have friends willing to help out. I promise to work hard,” she added, trying not to sound desperate.
Amy stared at her without comment.
“I brought references.” Jade inched a manila folder across the wide, polished table.
“Good. Good.” Amy stood up, signalling the interview was over. “I’ll be in touch.”
Jade got a sinking feeling in her stomach. She wouldn’t get the job. She could tell by the way the bitch dismissed her.
Sick with worry, Jade walked the five blocks to the library. How would she manage if she couldn’t find a job? If she applied for any kind of assistance, she’d have to drop out of school. The system didn’t make it easy for single mothers trying to better themselves. A social worker had suggested putting Cara in foster care until Jade could catch up on her rent and bills. Jade’s eyes pricked with unshed tears; it was starting to seem like her only option.
In the small courtyard on the first floor of the library, Jade spotted Rebecca Taylor drinking coffee from a paper cup. She walked up to her table and pulled out a chair.
Rebecca was dressed in jeans and a red sweatshirt, her hair loose around her shoulders. She usually came to class straight from work, wearing her RCMP uniform. She looked much younger when she dressed casually and let her hair down, Jade thought.
They exchanged a few niceties. Rebecca told her about her son’s obsession with changing his clothes every couple of hours. They talked about the difficulties of working and going to school while raising a child.
“Did you get your paper for LaVallee finished?” Jade asked after a while.
Rebecca nodded. “I wrote about the powerlessness of the police officer.”
Jade laughed. “I didn’t realize you were powerless.”
“We have our limitations,” Rebecca said. “And sometimes that can be a problem.”
Jade sighed. “I’m still trying to find a topic. I was thinking about gun control, but…” she shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You could write about a personal experience,” Rebecca offered. “What I mean is…I was thinking, maybe about domestic abuse?”
Although she knew Rebecca meant well, Jade felt her face flush. The police had been called to her apartment on more than one occasion when she lived with Willy. He’d beaten the crap out of her when she was pregnant with Cara. They took him away in handcuffs that time. Rebecca had urged Jade to leave him.
“Or you could write about the burden of gun control in small communities like this one,” Rebecca added quickly as if sensing Jade’s discomfort.
Jade nodded, considering.
“That paper you did on effective partnership between law enforcement and the community was excellent.” Rebecca took a sip of coffee. “I told some of the officers at work about it. As a matter of fact, I used some of your ideas when the subject came up at a meeting.”
“Really?” Jade couldn’t imagine her ideas being discussed among the police.
Rebecca peered at her. “Your paper was really good, Jade.”
At that moment a couple of students, Erika Jansen and Megan Dillard, stopped by their table. They had just finished rehearsal and were going to Kelsey’s to celebrate. “Drinks are half price for happy hour,” said Megan. “Would you guys like to come along?”
Jade shook her head. How she wished she could, but she was down to her last eight dollars until Cara’s baby bonus came at the end of the month. “I can’t,” she said.
“My mother-in-law is visiting,” said Rebecca. “I have to leave in a few minutes. Have fun.” As she watched the girls walk away, she shook her head. “I can’t remember what it’s like having that freedom anymore. A child really changes things.”
“Sure does,” Jade agreed. “When did your mother-in-law arrive?”
“Maggie came last evening. This time she plans to stay for two weeks.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Well…yes and no,” Rebecca sighed. “Darren enjoys having her around. And she’s good with Connor. I just wish she wouldn’t harp on me all the time about my job.”
Jade knew Rebecca’s mother-in-law didn’t approve of Rebecca’s career. Before they came to Newfoundland, Darren had worked as a mechanic. He’d quit his job when Rebecca was transferred, and so far he hadn’t been able to find anything in Paddy’s Arm.
“It’s great having Darren home with Connor,” Rebecca continued. “When he goes back to work, I’m going to miss coming home to a cooked meal.”
If only I could be so lucky, Jade thought. Rebecca’s life was so different from her own. She would take a nagging mother-in-law any day if it meant not having to worry about money or babysitters, or finding a job. It would be nice having someone in her life to help take care of Cara.
Rebecca’s cellphone rang and she glanced at the number. “Speak of the devil.” She chuckled. “Probably wondering what I’m up to.” She stood up, gathered her books and purse. “I should go before Maggie comes looking for me.”
Jade gulped down the last of her coffee. “I should be going too. I need to pick up books so I can get this paper done.”
“I’ll see you in class,” Rebecca said as she walked away.
Jade found the books she needed and brought them to the checkout desk. She’d get started on her assignments tonight, she promised herself. Get LaVallee and Buckle the hell off her back.
It was snowing lightly when Jade left the library. She felt a pinching headache. Her period was about to start, and there’d be unbearable cramps. What she wouldn’t give for a little pot right now. Instead of going home, she headed toward the senior citizens’ complex near the waterfront where her grandmother lived. Jade sometimes did her nan’s grocery shopping and picked up her prescriptions. She let herself into the foyer with her spare key, and then she knocked on the apartment door before unlocking it. “Anyone home?” she called.
Nan was asleep in her rocker. There was a bottle of vodka on the coffee table, her false teeth next to it. She wore a cotton nightgown with a large brown stain down the front.
“Jesus, look at this place,” Jade said. The table and counter were lined with dirty dishes, pots, and pans. Clothes and shoes were strewn on the floor.
Nan opened her eyes a moment then quickly closed them.
Shaking her head, Jade walked down the hallway to the bathroom. The strong smell of urine assaulted her nostrils. The tub and sink looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in months. Wet towels littered the floor. In the medicine cabinet, she found Xanax and various pain medications. Taking some from each bottle, she slipped them into her purse.
When Jade came out of the bathroom, Nan was making little snoring noises through her open mouth. Christ almighty. No wonder the family was so screwed up. Nan had raised ten kids on her own. Jade’s father used to talk about how his mother beat and neglected them. One time, he told Jade, Nan had thrown a junk of wood, knocking him out cold. Another time, when she was drinking, Nan broke her youngest son’s arm. Children’s aid took the kids away for over a year that time.
You’re not doing such a great job either, Jade reminded herself. Would she end up like her grandmother, with her kid in and out of foster care? No, she decided, Cara’s stay would be temporary. It would give Jade a chance to look for a job. She was nothing like Nan. Once she had a job and got Cara back, she would study hard. In another year she would finish her program, the only member of her family to achieve that. She thought of how Rebecca had praised her ideas and felt a ripple of pride.
Nan startled awake and gave a little cry. “Jade?”
Jade looked at her grandmother with disgust. “Ah, Nan. What did you do, spill booze all over yourself?” She shook her head. “Let me get you cleaned up.”
In the bedroom, Jade was rum
maging through a drawer for a fresh nightgown when she came across a small billfold. She opened it and found more than a hundred dollars inside. Nan must have just cashed her Old Age pension. Jade peeled off two twenties and stuffed them into her jacket pocket. Nan would only waste the money on booze, she reasoned. Better it was spent on keeping a roof over Cara’s head. Despite her faults, Nan cared about her great-grandchild; she wouldn’t want Cara to go without. Besides, she would never even miss it.
Chapter 4
Lauren had planned to pick Bailey up early from school so they could spend more time visiting with Claire. Just as she was leaving the house, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Professor LaVallee?” There was so much static and crackling, she could barely make out the words.
“This…Jade Roberts.” More static, making it almost impossible to hear.
“Hello, Jade?” Lauren said. “Can you hear me?” Lauren didn’t like students or clients calling her at home.
“I…wonder if…meet…you sometime?”
“You want to meet with me? Sure. We can meet early next week.”
Jade said something, but the reception was so poor her words were lost.
“I can’t hear you, Jade,” Lauren said. “Can you hear me?”
More static.
“Jade, if you can hear me, give me a call tomorrow at the university. Okay?”
There was more static as Jade’s voice faded in and out.
Lauren glanced at her watch. She had planned to pick Bailey up fifteen minutes ago. “I’m going to hang up now, Jade,” she said. “I have to pick up my daughter from school. Call me tomorrow. Okay?”
She probably wants another extension on her term paper, Lauren told herself as she reached for her car keys. Jade had passed in one paper, on domestic violence, and gotten a B+. Lauren was impressed with how Jade made an argument for why women stay in abusive relationships and often don’t report the violence. She was able to present her ideas in a clear, concise way. It was obvious she had put a lot of thought into it. She’d give her a couple of extra days to finish her other paper if that’s what she needed.
Although Lauren got to the preschool forty minutes earlier than her usual pickup time, it was still later than she’d planned.
“We’re going to visit Aunt Claire and Ariel,” Lauren heard Bailey tell Patrick as he opened the gate. “That’s why Momma’s here early.”
Patrick touched her curls. “I hope you have a nice visit.” Turning to Lauren he said, “I went by Claire’s house around noon to get the money she owes me for childcare. There was no one home.”
“Was she expecting you?”
“She told me to come by when I could. Her car was in the driveway.”
“That’s odd,” Lauren said. “I’ll let her know that you dropped by.”
“Will Aunt Claire let me hold Ariel?” Bailey cut in.
“Well, you could ask.”
Bailey smiled. “I think she will.”
Lauren took Bailey’s hand, and they walked to the car. “Would you like to go out for supper?” she asked as she lifted her into her car seat.
Bailey nodded enthusiastically. “McDonald’s?”
“McDonald’s,” Lauren groaned, feeling a pang of guilt. It would be the third time this week for fast food. Tonight was the premiere of the dinner theatre the drama students were putting on. She planned to arrive early, mingle, and have drinks with faculty members. The sitter was arriving around five-thirty. There wouldn’t be time to cook a meal.
Lauren got into the car and started the engine. I’m going to make more time for Claire, she vowed silently. She had been a friend during some dark times in Lauren’s life. It was Claire who had encouraged her to come to Paddy’s Arm. She had been a longtime friend of David Beck, one of the partners at Beck Hayes, and recommended Lauren for the opening at their firm.
Although it wasn’t yet three-thirty, heavy traffic was starting to build at Main. Lauren turned left on a side street and drove up the steep hill to Sycamore Heights. The houses in the area were newly built, elegant, two-storey brick on large treed lots. High rock walls and hedges separated properties with well-tended lawns and shrubbery. BMWs, Audis, and Mercedes were parked in the driveways.
As she turned right onto Sumac Lane, Lauren saw an ambulance in a driveway. Claire’s driveway, she realized, gripping the steering wheel. As she neared the house, Lauren saw two paramedics slide a collapsed gurney through the rear doors of the ambulance. One of them climbed into the back; the other closed the doors and got into the driver’s seat. The ambulance pulled away, lights flashing, as it sped down the street.
Lauren pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, her knees weak. She could feel her heart hammering as she unbuckled Bailey and pulled her from the car. She raced to the door and, with a trembling hand, rang the doorbell.
Dr. Anya Kaminsky, still wearing her jacket, opened the door. Had she just arrived? But why hadn’t she gone in the ambulance with Claire? She was her doctor, after all.
“Is Claire okay?” Lauren asked, breathlessly.
Anya ushered them inside the spacious foyer. “The ambulance came for Ariel.”
“What happened?”
“Come, have a seat,” Anya said calmly. She had immigrated to Canada with her parents after the invasion of Chechnya, and had lived in various parts of Canada before settling in Newfoundland. She still had the hint of an accent and a slightly formal way of speaking. She took Lauren’s coat and guided her into Claire’s family room, filled with roomy chairs and sofas.
Lauren took a seat on a small sofa and pulled Bailey onto her knee.
“Claire called the clinic,” Anya said. “She was distraught—so distraught the receptionist could not make out what she was saying. I took the call and was able to get her to calm down some. From what I could tell, there was something wrong with Ariel. I called 911 then left the clinic immediately. I got here just after the paramedics arrived.”
“Where is Claire now?” Lauren asked. “Is she with Ariel?”
“Claire is sleeping,” Anya said. “I gave her a sedative to calm her. Believe me, she was in no shape to go in the ambulance.”
“Does Bram know?”
Anya nodded. “Bram is at the hospital. He will meet the ambulance there.”
“Where’s Ariel?” Bailey asked in a small, frightened voice. Lauren had momentarily forgotten her daughter.
Bailey wriggled out of her mother’s lap and stood with her hands on her hips, her blue eyes troubled.
Anya knelt beside her. “Ariel had to go to the hospital, darling.”
Bailey looked from the doctor to her mother.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Lauren said, more to reassure herself than Bailey.
“Let’s see if we can find something on television.” Anya picked up the remote. “Sandman Sam is on. Do you like that show?”
Bailey nodded, still looking uneasy.
Anya surfed the channels, her long dark hair falling in her face. With her good looks, pale skin, and meticulous makeup, she looked more like a fashion model than a family physician, Lauren thought.
Once Bailey was settled, Anya turned her attention to Lauren. “Was Claire expecting you today?”
Lauren nodded. “I called last week.”
“She must have forgotten,” Anya said. “She has not been feeling well.”
“Yes, I realize that,” Lauren said, her head swimming with questions. Did Claire wake up and find the baby ill? If so, it would make sense to call Dr. Kaminsky, one of the few doctors who still made house calls. Anya had a reputation for going the extra mile for her patients. But what could have caused Claire to get so out of control she needed to be sedated?
“I asked Bram to call me as soon as he learned anything,” Anya said, bringing Lauren back to the conversation.
She peeked at her watch. “Would you mind staying with Claire until he gets home? My office is filling up with patients as we speak. Claire should not be left alone in her condition.”
“Of course I’ll stay,” Lauren said. “Let me know if you hear any news about Ariel.”
“I will do that.” Anya buttoned her jacket. “I doubt that Claire will wake up anytime soon but if she does, give her one of the pills I left on her night table. And if you have any problems, please call me at the clinic.”
After the doctor left, Lauren made herself a cup of tea and went to sit at the kitchen table. Thankfully, Bailey was engaged in her television program and didn’t ask any more questions. Lauren stared out the window at the quiet, tree-lined street, her mind in turmoil. What could be wrong with Ariel? So wrong that she’d had to be taken away in an ambulance?
When Lauren finished her tea, she went upstairs to check on Claire. She looked small in the king-size bed, her face ashen. Her short black hair looked thin in places as if patches had fallen out. She stirred and moaned, but seemed to be sleeping soundly enough. Lauren closed the door softly.
Across the hall, the nursery door was ajar and Lauren entered it briefly. Pink and purple unicorns pranced across yellow wallpaper. A colourful mobile was suspended over a spacious white crib. Large framed photographs of Ariel hung on the wall. Please God, she prayed silently, please let her be okay.
By five, Lauren could no longer ignore her growing unease. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to make it to the theatre, she called the sitter to cancel. It was growing dark outside the window, and from the light of the street lamp she saw it was beginning to snow. Feathery flakes fell against the window and onto the driveway. Had Emma heard the news? Lauren wondered. Emma and Claire were not just friends, but family. Emma had been married to Claire’s first cousin. Should she call Emma at the theatre, fill her in on what had happened? No, she decided. She didn’t know Ariel’s condition and didn’t want to alarm Emma unnecessarily. She’d wait until she heard from Bram. Any minute now, she expected him to walk through the door with Ariel in his arms.
