Authors: Dianne Yetman
Chapter 18
Compliments to the cook were heard around the dining room table as the three plates of crowned rack of lamb, drizzled with olive oil, garlic and sprigs of rosemary, were strategically placed for easy access by the table companions.
“Joan, the lamb looks splendid”,
Sandra
said.
“Thanks. It’s the first time I tried the crowns and I have to say, I impressed myself.”
Kate and her brother came through the door carrying trays of double baked potatoes, haricots verts smothered in sautéed onions, bacon, and beans, and roasted baby carrots.
Kate’s father raised his glass of wine in a toast to the chef
.
Clinks of glasses, the flapping of cloth napkins, swift hands passing full trays, murmured ‘please and thanks
’
, all culminated in the sound of silver cutlery meeting food.
Kate, enjoying the meal, dreaded being asked if she liked the new look. She didn’t. She missed the formal dining room. I’m not being fair
.
I miss the kids. It was unfortunate that her brother’s wives picked this date to take them to Wonderland for the weekend.
As if her mother could read her thoughts, she asked her how she liked the room.
“It’s different”, she said
.
“Yes it is. I broke all the rules, bit of a risky business converting the screened in porch to an informal dining room but I must say, I’ve had nothing but rave reviews.”
“And what’s not to like”, Kate’s father said. After all, it’s the room with the view.”
“Could be a bit chilly in the winter, don’t you think Mom”, James asked.
David poked his brother James in the side. “Good God, James, have you degenerated to one of those other-worldly
lawyers
and can’t see what’s in front of your eyes. The porch has been wired for winter heat; check out the metal things running the length of the baseboard.”
“I’m surprised you can see anything past your patient’s tonsils.”
“Now, boys”, Kate said, “remember you’re grown up now or mother may send you from the table.”
Both made faces at her and tucked into their food.
“I love the backless benches,”
Sandra
said. “
S
pill proof
and
comfortable.”
“I wasn’t sure of them at first. They’re Chinese scholar benches made from an ironwood platform from India. I got the idea when I thought about how people really like to linger at the table. It’s all about feeling good, relaxing, enjoying good food, wine, conversation and being comfortable. Mind you, it took me longer to summon up the courage to mix the dinnerware patterns and place the branch in the centre of the table. But it’s growing on me.”
Kate grew bored with all the talk about comfort, ease, and design and was sure their dinner guest must be as well. As soon as her mother paused for breath, she broke into the conversation.
“
I got a letter from
Hanya
today about the progress of the
land rights issue
.”
“How’s she making out”, her mother asked. “Not too spooked I hope about the shooting attempt.”
Kate said she didn’t mention anything so things must be fine. Her mother said nothing but couldn’t refrain from rolling her eyes.
“
Anyway, Hanya said th
e tribal chiefs are in dialogue but it’s going to be a long haul.
L
ots of opponents and some of them have legitimate concerns, like rights of access, loss of revenue. These are sticky issues but when you stack them up against the results stemming from the Mi’kmaq’s first encounter with Europeans in the 16
th
century, they pale in comparison.
“
Not wanting the conversation to centre on such a political hot potato, Joan exercised her right as hostess and interceded.
“
I
njustice is mind
and heart
crushing. The courage and resilience of the native Mi’kmaq people in the face of suffering and deprivation is truly amazing. And
Hanya’s
grandmother is no less amazing. How is she doing?”
“Fine
”, Kate said
.
“
She’s 91 now; lives alone in her trailer and still brags about how she paid her mortgage off in less than 15 years. That was over forty years ago of course.”
“How’s her health?”
God, mother, why can’t you just
shut up
?
Kate dug her knife into the meat’s joint with such force the veggies slid off the side of her plate.
“She’s had a mild heart attack and was hospitalized. The doctor suggested she might want to consider going into a senior’s home when she is released from the hospital.”
“Having had dealings with
Hanya’s
grandmother
through the joint committee on land allocation, I feel sorry for the doctor,” James said.
Joan
questioned Sandra on a new psychological theory she came across in a recent magazine and
the conversation flowed easily through dessert, coffee and brandy.
After the meal finished and the family members had dispersed, Kate and
Sandra
moved to the library and sat in the matching wing chairs angled towards the blue flickering light of the propane fireplace. Outside the upstairs corner bedroom and the large windows that afforded a wonderful view of the back yard, the library was Kate’s favourite room. She was hoping it would exert its usual calming effect.
“
I love your family,
Kate;
they’re refreshing, entertaining and intelligent. You’ve had a privileged childhood, no doubt.”
“Thin
gs aren’t always as they seem Sandra. Anyway, I
have something to ask you and I’m not sure where to start. This is not going to be easy for me, feel free to interject any time. I’ll tell you my sad tale.”
Surprisingly, once she began to talk about
Gordon’s ultimatum
,
her
load began to lighten
,
something
deep inside
opened
and she began to talk.
Forty minutes later, she laid her head back on the chair, emotionally exhausted.
“That’s quite a story
,
Bunkie. G
lad to see you’re ready to talk.”
“Not to
my credit,
I don’t want to lose my job.”
“Whatever.
S
ociety views anger as an immature and uncivilised response to frustration, threat, violation, or loss. Keeping calm under provocation is considered admirable. This conditioning is toxic and can lead to violent outbursts, misdirected anger, or repression of all feelings of anger. I believe you’ve managed to bottle yourself up. For what reason, I don’t know and I suspect you don’t either. Right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, that’s a start.
How about a referral to the expert I told you about.
I’m not going to recommend you however unless you are dead ass serious about getting help.”
“I am.”
“Okay. I’ll set thi
ngs up and get back to you. Any
questions?”
“None. And thanks.”
The two women stood, embraced. Kate walked her to her car
then returned to the house,
said her goodbye’s
,
got into her car and headed for the apartment
hoping for a good night’s sleep.
***
Roger had followed his doctor’s orders to the tee except for getting a good night’s sleep in his bed.
S
tretched out on the couch, one arm dangling towards the floor, one leg stretched out over the arm of the couch,
the
sound of the phone woke him. Answering machine kicking in, he recognized the voice.
“Hello, Hazel, it’s me Roger
.” He jumped up so fast he saw stars. “
Hazel, are you there? If you are, say something, it’s not like I can call you back.”
He heard a chuckle
.
“
Woke you didn’t I.”
“
Yes, doesn’t matter.
What’s up?”
“
The masked bandit’s
back in the
neighbourhood
.”
Roger’s heart skipped a beat.
“You sure Hazel?”
“Of course I’m sure, wouldn’t be calling you if I wasn’t.”
“Where are you calling from?”
“I’m in the hostel.”
Roger glanced at the clock – 9:45pm.
“I can meet you
there
in 15 minutes. Okay?”
“Okay.
Don’t dawdle, the hostel has a curfew.”
Ten minutes later, they were seated at the
corner
coffee shop.
The expresso gave Roger the needed jolt. Hazel was eating a cheese croissant but milk had been her choice of beverage.
He looked at the deeply lined, rough face, hands with who knows what under those finger nails, and smiled. Roughness of body never bothered him when he knew it hosted a good heart.
“I’m not going to waste any time Annie Oakley, I need to get you back before midnight. Tell me what you know.”
“It was around 8 or so, just starting to get dark. I knew it was going to be a cold night, could feel the frost in the air, so I decided to bunk at the hostel. I was heading downtown when I spotted
the bandit
talking with
Old
Crow
. H
e got that handle due to his ability to
scav
enge.
It’s said he could find a 1929 penny in a hoarder’s stash faster than it takes a drun
ken man to piss against a wall.”
Patience, Roger, patience, she’ll get there.
“Any how, like I said,
the bandit
was flapping away to him and the Crow was shaking his head
.
I wanted to get in for a closer look
but
this gang of youngsters, drugged up
, in love with themselves and the world,
was walking by. Blocked my view and when I could see again, the bandit was gone.
” She gave a snort of disgust
.
“As far as I could tell, looked the same as always. T
all, skinny,
that big black coat down to
the
ankles, damn; I
’d giv
e anything to have those huge pockets. I mean, I couldn’t fill them in two days of
rummaging.
B
ig black shoes on
the
feet, had the thickest soles I ever
saw,
they were thicker than Big Mike’s
homemade steak sandwiches.”
“You’d make an excellent detective; those eyes of yours don’t miss a thing.”
“Neither do my ears
but I couldn’t hear. Had to stay back so I wouldn’t be spotted. I w
ent into the park
, stood behind the care keeper’s hut. I could see them but they couldn’t see me.”
“Clever
.”