Hit & Mrs. (32 page)

Bette went over and hugged him as her mother hid her face in her hands. Then she knelt by her mother's chair. “Ma, even if I get a place of my own, you're never going to lose me. I'd be over here a lot. You know that, don't you?”

Ida sniffed and nodded. “I guess.”

Mordecai walked over and put his hand on his mother's shoulder.

“We love you, Ma. We're all here for you and no one is judging you.

Let Bette go. You have five other children that would love to help, if you'd let us.”

Ida nodded. She wiped her eyes and looked at them. “What do you want me to say? I'm sorry?”

There was quiet.

“I'm sorry, okay.”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “That's as much as you're going to get, folks.”

“Hey! Enough with the sarcastic comments. You're no saint. Did you know he has
Playboy
magazines under his bed?”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“What's so funny? I don't think that's funny.”

“It's funny, Ma,” Bette smiled.

Her mother winked at her. “It's hysterical, but he doesn't need to know that.” Then she shouted, “Does everyone have enough food? I have a cheese ball in the fridge. I'll go get it.”

She drove away.

When the taxi dropped Augusta off, she stood outside on the side–walk with her suitcase and gazed at the wonderful house she and Tom bought together. The red maple Tom planted was going to be glorious someday. It was comforting to have a permanent reminder of the future they had planned together—a future that was altered by a twist of fate, but a future nonetheless.

“I'm home, Tom.” The leaves on the tree rustled in the evening breeze. “I felt your presence with me the entire time I was away. You're always with me. Thank you.”

She walked up the stairs, opened the front door, and couldn't help but smile. The messy pile of shoes was still messy, thank heavens.

The smell of chocolate cake wafted through the air. Her mother had no doubt let the girls bake her a surprise. The stereo blared out the
Moulin Rouge
soundtrack over the hair dryer in the girls' bathroom. She heard Summer's off-key voice singing, “Hey sister, soul sister.”

Augusta shouted, “I'm home.”

Shrieks of joy came from everywhere. Her mother ran from the kitchen, Raine hightailed it in from the family room, and Summer jumped down the stairs two at a time. It was all a wonderful blur. She wrapped her arms around her girls and her mom and it was the happiest she'd been since Tom's death.

Later, after nearly half the cake had been consumed and two pots of tea and hot chocolate drained, they sat together around the kitchen table and talked of everyday things—not earth-shattering to anyone else, but to Augusta, it had the feel of a painting; colourful, dazzling, and creative. Her girls' voices were splashes of light across the canvas of her life. She'd always thought of Tom as the easel, the one who held them up, kept them from falling. She realized then that an easel has more than one leg, and she and her mother were as important to her girls as their father had been.

They were complete.

“Why did you come home so early, Mom?” Raine asked. “I thought you wanted a holiday.”

“I got homesick.”

“Weird.”

Augusta clasped her hands and put her elbows on the table. “Girls, I have a big, fat, juicy idea.”

Raine laughed and rubbed her hands together. “I love your big, fat, juicy ideas.”

They looked at her expectantly.

“How about all four of us go somewhere special?

“Where?” said Summer and Raine together.

“Disney World.”

The girls jumped up and started cheering. Augusta laughed. “I think they like the idea, Mom.”

“You can say that again,” Dorothy grinned. “What made you change your mind?”

“Daddy always wanted us to go, right girls? So I think it's high time we did, don't you?”

They nodded happily.

“Life is short and for the living. So let's live.”

Linda got out of the taxi and saw Wes's car in the driveway. She was relieved, not wanting to come home to an empty house, knowing that her friends were enjoying a great reunion with their extended families. The door was unlocked so she let herself in. She dropped her well-travelled suitcase on the floor and grinned when Buster came from nowhere at a great clip and jumped up in her arms, his motor already going a mile a minute.

“Hello, little friend. Mommy's sure glad to see you.” Then she hollered, “I'm home.”

“Mom!” she heard from upstairs.

She waited for it. The sound she loved; the sound of Wes's big feet stomping down the stairs. He came at a run and gave her a big hug and kiss. “Hey, Mom, it's good to see you. Did you have a nice time?”

“Very nice. You sure look happy. Is it my homecoming that's put such a sparkle in your eye?”

“Chloe's here.”

Linda took off her coat. Chloe walked down the stairs and Linda watched Wes watch her. Aha. Something was up.

“Chloe, it's lovely to see you again, dear.”

Chloe gave her a hug, which surprised Linda. It felt nice. “Hi, Mrs. Keaton. Did you have a good time?”

“It was short but eventful.”

Wes pulled Chloe to him. “You'll have to tell us all about it, Mom, but we have something to tell you first.”

Linda felt her head spin. “Okay, honey, but can I sit down for a second?”

They both looked appalled at their thoughtlessness. “Of course.”

They hustled her off into the kitchen and Chloe made tea while Wes took out a box of crackers and cut up some cheese for a snack. “You must be hungry.”

Linda nodded as she sat at the kitchen table. Buster immediately planted himself on her lap and rubbed the top of his head against her chin. At that moment, Linda was so happy; happy to be doing nothing and going nowhere in her beautiful kitchen with her cat and her son and his girl.

Life was good.

And then it got great.

As she sipped her tea, she got the feeling that Wes and Chloe were dying for her to finish, so she put down her mug and sat back. “So, tell me what's been happening with you two—”

“We're getting married—”

“—and we're pregnant!” Chloe said.

It was the final straw in what had been a very long day. Linda immediately covered her face and burst into tears. She couldn't have stopped if her life depended on it.

So of course, then Chloe started to cry. “She's upset…oh God, we shouldn't have told her.”

Wes was flustered. “Mom, for God's sake, I thought you'd be happy. Don't you want us to be happy? I love her, Mom. I love her and I'm marrying her and I don't care what anyone says.”

Linda waved her hands around, trying to signal for someone to get her a Kleenex, but they couldn't figure out what she wanted.

“Mom, what is it? Are you having a panic attack?”

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Keaton,” Chloe bawled.

Wes dithered between the two of them. “This sucks. Will one of you stop crying?”

“I'm sorry.” Linda got up and rushed to the kitchen sink, where she splashed some water on her face in an attempt to stop the tears. She grabbed a tea towel and buried her head in it. The kids stood in front of her and were at a loss. Finally she lifted her head, mascara running down her cheeks. “You don't understand—”

“No, you don't understand, Mom. I'm a grown man and I have to make my own decisions. I love Chloe—”

“
Stop.
”

He stopped.

Between her jagged breaths and runny nose, Linda said, “I'm so happy. I'm so very, very happy. A daughter-in-law and a grandchild. I can't believe it. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

She reached out and they both ran to her.

As if by a fairy godmother's wand, Linda's life turned completely upside down and inside out. She was so full of joy, she couldn't sleep. Even after she said goodnight to them and went to her room, she looked out her window at the moon and marvelled how, with just a few words, her life was changed forever.

“A little girl…or boy…that would be nice too…but a little girl to dress up. I could brush her hair and buy her shoes.” Linda pinched herself and then remembered that Gracie and Keaton were soon going to be part of her family as well. As she gazed outside she realized she'd never known such utter and complete contentment. How lucky she was.

She ran herself a hot bath, desperate to wipe away the horror she'd been through. As she stripped off, she heard a tiny ping against the floor tiles. She thought she'd caught her earring, so she looked at the floor. A diamond sparkled at her feet.

Linda picked it up and held it in the palm of her hand. “How did you get here?” She wrestled with her conscience for a moment. Should she give it back? Nah. It had travelled home with her against all odds. She and her friends had earned it. Then a perfect solution came to mind—of course, not without the Book Bags' approval. They all owned a piece of this particular rock, so they would all have a say. But she had no doubt they'd agree to have Chloe's engagement ring made with it.

After a wonderful night's sleep in her own glorious bed, she came downstairs to find Wes and Chloe busy in the kitchen making her breakfast, though Chloe soon had to excuse herself.

“I suddenly hate the smell of bacon. Oh, I'm going to be sick.” She took off.

Wes started to go after her, but Linda waved him down. “Never mind, leave her be. It's morning sickness, that's all. A rite of passage.” Wes nodded and went back to his bacon. “I have a lot to learn, I guess.”

Linda took a sip of coffee. “Understatement of the year.”

Buster hissed at the patio doors, and the sound of Winnie and Churchill barking alerted Linda to the fact that Clive was out puttering around in his garden already.

“Excuse me for a sec, I'll be back in a minute.”

Linda got up, shooed Buster away from the door, and carried her coffee outside to the deck. She watched Clive for a while before he spotted her. He raised his hand in greeting.

“Good morning, Linda. You're back early.”

“Yes.” She went down the steps and walked over through the hedge to his backyard. “Thank you, Clive. You were a brick with all this robbery business. I'm sorry you had to worry about all that.”

“It wasn't a problem. As soon as I got in touch with Wes, he handled everything. He's a very capable young man once he turns on his cellphone.”

They laughed together.

“I'm so excited this morning, Clive. I'm bursting to tell someone. Wes and Chloe are getting married and they're having a baby.”

“Well, that's exciting news! Congratulations. You'll make a wonderful grandmother, won't she, boys?” The boys concurred by wiggling their back ends.

She beamed. “Yes, I will.”

“Young people are so clever these days. They have weddings and babies all at the same time. Saves a lot of bother, I should imagine.”

“You're right.”

“I suppose I'd better get back to my digging. I have great plans for the southern end of the garden. There's never a dull moment around here.”

“Yes, Wes is making my breakfast. Anyway, thanks again.”

“My pleasure.”

Linda walked away and was on the porch when she turned around and shouted, “Would you like to come to dinner tonight? The kids are going out for the evening and the only thing I have on my agenda is a game of Solitaire.”

He gave her a big smile. “I'd like that very, very much. Thank you.”

“Until tonight, then.” She waved and disappeared through her patio doors.

Clive adjusted his tie and cleared his throat before looking down at Winnie and Churchill.

“Don't wait up tonight, boys. Your father may be late.”

Lesley Crewe is the author of
Ava Comes Home
(2008),
Shoot Me
(2006), and
Relative Happiness
(2005), which was shortlisted for the Margaret and John Savage First Book Award. Previously a freelance writer and columnist for
Cape Bretoner Magazine
, she currently writes a column for
Cahoots
online magazine. Born in Montreal, Lesley lives in Homeville, Nova Scotia.

www.lesleycrewe.com