Mercy of St Jude (17 page)

“Sadie!” Edna hit the plate with her fork.

Sadie's hand jerked. “Ow!” she yelled as the needle pricked her finger.

“Quit your dreaming, girl.” Edna put down her fork and rubbed one gnarled hand with the other. “Hard one to figure out, that Mercedes. Hear much about her?”

“Not a thing. Teaches school, goes to church, walks her dog.”

“You keep an ear out at Burke's. Not much gets past that Mona.”

Sadie looked doubtful. “I was there the other day and Mrs. Burke was trying to talk to her, saying how she must be glad to have Callum home, and did she like Nova Scotia when she was there, even asking about her father, you know, stuff like that, just trying to be nice to her. Mercedes was having none of it. Just got her groceries and left. Some closed up, I tell you.”

“Word is she had a boyfriend once.” Edna sounded quite pleased with herself.

“Get on! Her? Where'd you hear that?”

Can't imagine anyone kissing that crooked-arse.

“Aunt Agnes up in Green Harbour. Joe's dead wife, Betty I think her name was, she used to live next door to them before her and her sister run off to New York. Only the sister ever made it back, of course.”

Sadie stops sewing. “So the sister would have known the Hanns.”

Edna looks confused. “Up in Green Harbour?”

“No, when they were all in New York. If one sister was married to Joe the other one must've been around them all. She'd know what went on, what they got up to.”

“Probably did but we'll never know. Poor thing didn't last the winter when she got back.” Edna poked around on her plate until she came up with a small scrunchion. She popped the crispy pork rind into her mouth and sat back to enjoy it. “Tuberculosis they said it was.”

Another dead end. Some odd, no one knows nothing. I never saw the like.

“Anyway, this boyfriend. He from New York?”

“No, no,” said Edna. “That was up in Nova Scotia.”

“What happened?” Sadie rubbed the fine silk gently between her fingers.

“Don't know. Something about a doctor.” Edna scooped up a forkful of fish and bread all mushed together. “Yeah, that's it, I think they said a doctor.”

Sadie pulled the needle through. Her eyes narrowed. “Or she needed a doctor?”

Edna's hand stopped above the plate. “You think?”

“Sure, why not? That one's hiding something, I just knows it.”

“Too bad that young Lucanda got to live with her, though.”

“Lucinda, Ma. I told you, her name is Lucinda.”

No wonder Mabel's a dunce.

“No odds to me.” Edna picked a tiny bone from between her teeth.

“Or me. Don't plan on having nothing to do with Lucinda Hann.” Sadie paused from her sewing to check out the goings-on outside the window. From where she sat she had a clear view of the whole street.

“Never did like that crowd,” said her mother.

“Too stuck up, they are. Swear they were from the King of England.”

“That's a good one, what?” Edna chuckled. “Us or the king. Hah!”

“Nothing wrong with the Duffies, Ma. We're good as the Hanns any day.”

“Right you are, Sadie. Mary be alive today wasn't for that crackpot Farley.”

Sadie's eyes narrowed again. She stuck the needle back in.

1999

Gerry yawns so widely it feels his lips might tear away from each other. Sadie's eyes have begun to droop as well. She doesn't resist when he suggests it's time for bed. Her steps are clumsy as he walks her to her room. Her little nips affect her faster and harder than when he'd first caught her sneaking them twenty years earlier. He's never said anything to her about it. He feels it would be an invasion of her privacy, of which she has so little, and also that perhaps she deserves some comfort, some form of escape, some small measure of a life outside St. Jude, even if it is only in her mind.

He kisses her goodnight and she hugs him tight. She holds him there longer than he would like, but he doesn't try to extricate himself. Finally she looks up into his eyes, smiles a little drunken smile and goes into her room. He shuts the door.

Grateful to be alone at last, Gerry crawls into the single bed he slept in as a boy. He cannot remember when he was ever so exhausted. Every limb and muscle feels weary right down to his fingers and toes. He waits for sleep, craving that blessed blackness to wash over him and sweep away his thoughts, his memories, his regrets. But his mind refuses to give up his ghosts. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, its white backdrop the perfect canvas.

The image slips into place. Annie, her body outlined in the picture window. Annie, staring out into the night, into the black void. Annie. He closes his eyes.

9

1999

Annie leans back against the kitchen counter, the hard edge digging into the curve of her spine. She is thinking about her mother and what Joe, in his anger, has accidentally revealed. Annie hadn't known that Lucinda was pregnant before she was married but, to her surprise, she finds that it doesn't really matter. In the past, she might have held such information close, saving it for a time when she needed something to harbour against her mother. She no longer feels that way and cannot remember why she did. At present, she feels only tenderness for Lucinda, a woman whom she loves without question, yet who remains a mystery.

Still, something doesn't sit right. “Hang on, you two,” she says. “Do you mean to tell me that Beth is illegitimate and that Mom and Dad have been celebrating their anniversary from the wrong year to cover it up?”

Callum and Joe, looking guilty, sit up straighter.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Joe pushes his chair back, as if trying to escape the confines of the cold metal table legs along with Annie's questions.

“Oh, no you don't.” She plunks the sausage and bread on the table along with a pot of tea, then sits purposefully down across from them. “Look, we're all adults. I just want to know about my own mother, and the two of you need to fill me in because I can never get a darn thing out of her.”

Callum inclines his head and nods, but first he turns to Joe. “I'm sorry, Joey. The last thing I wants is to argue with you this night. Can we let it go?”

Joe's weathered hand pats his brother's even older one. “Indeed we should.”

“As for you, Miss Annie,” says her grandfather, “I don't suppose there's any harm in telling you about your own parents. Not that there's any great secret, but I knows how you and your mother are. Still, I figured you'd know some of this stuff by now.”

“Beth and Sara probably do, but me and Mom, we never did talk much.” She can hear the regret in her voice.

Callum touches her cheek briefly, then he begins. “Lucinda met Dermot when she was just sixteen. He was much older than her, a big strapping fisherman ten years on the boats. But Lucinda wasn't your typical teenager. She never had lost that shyness, or sadness, or whatever it was that she brought home with her from the States.” He pauses. “Joe, you remember what Judith was like, right?”

“I do. I could never figure how you ended up with her, the rich boss's daughter.”

“How did it happen, Granddad? You hardly ever talk about her.”

“With good reason.” Callum thinks for a minute. “One day I had to go to the main office, her father's office. I was nervous, he being the owner of the company and all. I was standing there getting up the nerve to knock when the door swings open and there she is, the most beautiful woman I ever saw, brown curls all around her face. It was her eyes that got me, though, so blue you could only think of the sky. And that day her eyes were all fired up. She was saying something, not really shouting but in this angry voice, I don't recall what it was about but when she saw me she stopped. I remember her looking me up and down. And then she smiled at me, a big wide smile that softened her face and made it glow. That smile was it for me. Then, when I come out from seeing her father, she was waiting for me.”

“Did you ask her out?” Annie says.

“I honestly don't remember.” Callum looks mystified.

“There's lots I don't remember from them months. I just recall being bowled over, and trying hard to be the man Judith wanted me to be. I didn't have much experience with girls.”

Joe laughs. “I never in my life saw a fellow so shy with the women.”

“Sure I never thought I'd have a girlfriend, let alone a wife.”

“Some wife.” Joe is no longer laughing. “Nothing but a mean, spoiled brat.”

“Uncle Joe!”

Callum pats her hand. “He's right. Judith was spoiled like no one I ever knew, the apple of her father's eye. She had a sister but poor Ruth was as homely and dull as the day was long. Never married, never had a date as far as I knew. She idolized Judith, who could do no wrong as far as Ruth was concerned. Same went for their mother. So, when Judith fell for the help at her father's plant - that would be me - well, Judith always got what Judith wanted, and did what she wanted, no matter how mad her father was at her. I got caught hook, line and sinker. But it was just me, so no harm done.”

He takes several sips of tea, slowly, as if judging his words.

“When Lucinda came along, Judith had a new purpose, and her and her sister took it upon themselves to mould that little girl into a New York City princess.” His old eyes glisten. “Poor Lucinda. She tried to be what they wanted. She did everything they asked her to do, though it was clear from day one that it wasn't in her nature. They just barrelled on, ignoring what she was really like.” An angry glint flashes across his eyes. “And where was I in all this? Well, the truth is, I've no excuse good enough. Judith's father always begrudged me taking his daughter and he wasn't about to have no Newfie son-in-law hanging about without earning his keep. That man worked me to the bone, he did, all so I could legitimately pay for the life his daughter was used to. No freebies there, I tell you.

“So Lucinda had to make do as best she could, without me around to interfere or help her. And she did, and she survived. It wasn't until later that I wondered what she gave up to keep the peace.” His mouth tightens and his fist taps the table.

Annie resists the urge to comfort him. She knows he's not finished.

He exhales slowly. “After we moved here, I wondered if she felt cast off from the Macleans, but she never said nothing. Her Aunt Ruth phoned every year, on the date Judith passed away. She always called at our house, even after Lucinda was married and had a house of her own. Merce would take the phone while I ran and fetched Lucinda. I used to wonder what they talked about but Lucinda never said. Neither did Merce. Ruth died of a heart attack last year. We haven't heard from any of them since.

“Anyhow, Lucinda soldiered on. But my Lord, she was so thin and shy and quiet. She'd make your heart ache to look at her sometimes. When Dermot started calling on her, Merce and me were worried that he was so much older than her. But it was the darnedest thing. It struck the both of us in no time flat, and the two of them even earlier I suppose, that this was a match made in heaven. I'm ashamed to say I think it was the first time your mother felt really safe in her whole life.” He gives a wry chuckle. “I thought Sadie was going to kill her, mind you. She figured Derm was hers, you see, they'd been going around together a bit. But he was never serious about Sadie.

And when Lucinda got in the family way, eighteen or so she was, it didn't matter. Not even back then. It just seemed right natural and they got married. Merce gave them the land this house is on, not next to her place but not too far. Derm and me started building on it right away. It was the only other house on the road back then.”

Callum's hands rub across his face briefly before falling to the table. “But the baby died.”

Annie leans forward; his voice, normally strong despite his age, has gone hoarse.

“And the next one did too, and then she had a miscarriage really late. Me and Merce and Derm, we were some worried about her. That was a long hard haul for Lucinda. But it was Dermot got her through, kept her going. He wouldn't let her despair. Finally, along came Beth. Lucinda latched onto that child like her life depended on it, which it probably did. She was the happiest wife and mother, and she looked so healthy, finally had a bit of meat on her bones. I was scared to death something would happen to mess it up. But it was fine, especially with Sarah and yourself coming soon after, healthy as horses. Of course there was other tough times, other babies that never made it. And when Beth lost her first one some years back, Lucinda was awful sad. But like always, she had Derm and they had each other.” Callum sits back. “I thank God to this day that Dermot Bryne came into her life.”

They sit, the three of them, quietly, at peace with each other. The house hums with the shutdown noises of late night, the muted din of the furnace winding down, the stillness outside, the sighs of old men.