Relative Happiness (16 page)

“God. You're right.” Susan stopped.

They looked at the blank television. Neither one of them said anything. Finally Lexie couldn't stand it. She grabbed the remote. “Jesus. Give it to me.”

She pressed rewind.

One afternoon Lexie was in the back garden, pulling out the weeds and brambles that choked her flowers. She wanted to establish a little order to the overgrown mess, and come spring, plant a few bushes and shrubs. She loved a wild garden, but it didn't have to look like a jungle.

It was a beautiful day. Warm for October and sunny enough that she wore her old straw hat. She still had baggy smocks for mucking in the dirt.

She looked up. Her father stood by the gate.

“Hi Dad.”

She hadn't seen much of her father since she'd come back from Kate's. She told herself it was because she was busy with the house, but she knew in her heart that wasn't it. She didn't know how to act around him, so she stayed away.

“Hi Princess. It's amazing. You look like my mother, kneeling there.”

“Really?” This pleased her.

He sat down beside her on one of the old wooden chairs that looked out over the field. He didn't say anything. He listened to the water beyond the cliff, forever moving.

“You were named after her.”

Lexie threw her head up. “
What?
I can't believe it. No one told me that.”

Now he was surprised. “Oh, I'm sure I did. Or your mother did at some point.” He looked puzzled.

“No Dad. Believe me, I'd remember. You always said my mother or your grandmother. I can't believe I never asked what her name was.” This revelation shocked her.

“I wish she'd been alive to see you come into the world. She'd be so pleased to know she had a namesake.”

“Her name was Lexie?”

“Her name was Alexis, but she was happiest when Dad called her Lexie.”

She sat and looked out over the ocean. Her father started to talk.

“My father was a hard man. He had to be. He was a coal miner. That's a job only the strong survive. But it's a life that wears you down.”

Dad fingered the brim of his hat. “It took its toll. He liked his drink, and he was difficult to live with when he drank. My mother tried to hide it, but we knew. That's why Sally never married. And why I never wanted to be like my father. I never wanted to hurt my family.”

Lexie stayed quiet. He stared ahead as if she wasn't there. “There was one day I remember. He came home and shouted, ‘Lexie. Lexie. Come dance with me darlin'.' He grabbed her by the apron strings, picked her up and twirled her in the air. He danced her all around the kitchen. She laughed and laughed.”

He stopped talking, as if to keep the memory for as long as he could.

“Was she nice, Dad?”

He looked down at her on the grass. “She was as wonderful as you are.”

“Oh, Dad.”

She leaned against his knee. He stroked her hair.

William Rory McPherson was born the next spring. No baby was more loved or more welcomed than this little boy. His mother and father adored him. His sisters kissed him over and over. His grandfather William was beside himself, a little boy after four daughters and four granddaughters. They passed him around like a special gift from one pair of loving arms to the next. They were in love with this tiny scrap of humanity who had his mother's blue eyes and his father's nose.

And then he died. At two months of age, in his little crib, in the house with the people who loved him so much.

When Lexie lay awake in the middle of the night, she could still hear Beth screaming.

They tried to help but for a long time they were frozen. Stiff. Like someone coming out of a coma, everything was heavy and hard to do.

Mom amazed Lexie. She threw her shoulders back and waded into the job of helping her granddaughters cope with the loss of their baby doll Willie. Kate came home and helped too.

Dad had a hard time in his office with patients who gave him their condolences one after the other. Lexie found him one day in his study weeping. He looked broken and old. She closed the door quietly and let him be.

Rory coped with the loss of his son the only way he knew how. He kept busy. His colleagues at work knew he didn't do anything, but he needed the routine to keep him sane. They covered for him.

Then he started to split firewood in the backyard. He'd smack the axe as hard as he could and grunt with the effort of it. He tried to kill the heartbreak that tortured him.

Somehow it was left to Lexie to try and help Beth. But there was no consoling her. Beth scared Lexie. She had dead eyes. She looked through people. She answered them sometimes but not often. She cried and cried until she should have had to stop, but she couldn't. She'd go to Willie's room and lean into his crib. She'd rub the sheets, the sheets she wouldn't let them wash because they had his baby smell. She sorted his clothes, folded and refolded small, soft sweaters. She sat in the rocking chair and cradled the stuffed bear Dad gave him.

She wandered as if she had no direction, no compass to guide her. She went to Willie's grave and sat with him hour after hour. Lexie offered to plant flowers. Beth looked at Lexie with her big dead eyes. No, she couldn't do that. She was afraid. Afraid she wouldn't stop and dig him up so she could take him home.

Everyone at the library was nice to Lexie. Even Marlene, who brought her coffee. She saw people as they whispered and nodded in her direction. They felt sorry for her family. They said so as they checked their books out. She'd thank them and continue pretending to read.

One horrible drizzly day after work, she stopped in at Beth's. The place was quiet. Mom and Kate had taken the girls to McDonalds. Rory wasn't home. His brother invited him to go fishing, an excuse to sit together and share their sorrow.

The house was in darkness. It felt cold and dreary. Empty.

She called to Beth. There was no answer. She wasn't in the kitchen. Lexie walked to the living room and turned on a lamp.

Beth was at the window, her hands and forehead pressed against the glass.

“Beth dear, what are you doing?”

She didn't speak.

“Beth?”

“How can I do this Lexie? How can I stand here and leave my baby in the rain?”

Lexie couldn't breathe. She went over and put her arms around her sister. “Please dear, let me run you a bath. You can put on your nightgown. I'll make you some hot chocolate. I'll sit with you until you fall asleep. Please. Please Beth. Do it for me.”

“Okay,” she said, like a little child.

Lexie took her sister upstairs by the hand. She sat Beth on the bed while she filled the tub with lavender water. She helped her undress and eased her into it.

“I'll be right back.”

She ran downstairs and put the kettle on and then ran back upstairs to make the bed with fresh linen. Lexie needed to run. She didn't want to stop. She tidied the room, and put a new box of Kleenex on the bedside table.

She went back to the kitchen and made a big mug of hot chocolate and cinnamon toast, and carried everything up on a tray to put beside the bed.

She went into the bathroom. Beth was exactly as she left her, so Lexie knelt down and softly wiped her face. She poured water over her hair and washed it as if Beth were a toddler in the tub. She put bath gel on a sponge and rubbed her back. She told her she wouldn't leave her.

“It's okay, Beth. I'm right here.”

Lexie got her out and wrapped her in big fluffy towels. She put on her pyjamas and made Beth get into bed, then tucked up the blankets around her.

When she held the mug of chocolate to her lips, Beth drank a little. She even ate a few bites of toast. Lexie dimmed the light and pulled a chair over by the bed so she could sit and hold Beth's hand.

Beth never closed her eyes. She looked far away. If only Lexie could take this from her. If only she could do something.

Tears oozed down her face. “Lexie,” she whispered.

“What sweetheart?”

“Why did he die? Why didn't he just live? What difference would it make if he'd just lived? In the whole big scheme of things, why couldn't he stay here with me and his daddy and his sisters? Why did he have to go and not be with us?”

Lexie cried. “I don't know, Beth. I don't know.”

“He didn't live long enough to use up a bar of Ivory soap.”

Lexie thought she'd crack in two.

Two months later the girls found a stray kitten in their backyard. They ran in and offered the dear little thing to their Mommy to try and make her happy.

“Can we call him Willie?” Halley asked.

“No dear, we can't call him Willie, but we can pick a nice name.”

Elmo became a cherished member of the family. They found out too late he was a she, but Elmo didn't mind. She always purred the loudest while being rocked in Beth's arms.

Lexie helped her mother put the groceries away. The doorbell rang and Mom went to answer it. She talked to someone, then walked back into the kitchen with the most glorious arrangement of flowers. They must have cost a small fortune.

“Look at these.”

“My God, I've never seen anything so beautiful. Who are they from?”

Mom put the flowers down and stared at the card, then put it in her pocket.

“A secret admirer?”

“It's for all of us, actually. From Gabby.”

Lexie didn't move.

“When did you get a hold of her?”

Mom averted her eyes. “Only a few days ago. She was in Japan. That's why we couldn't get in touch with her about Willie.”

“This is the nineties, Mother. They invented the cell phone long ago.”

“Even in today's world, Lexie, if someone doesn't want to be found, they won't be.”

“Well. Isn't she clever? How convenient for her to have the time of her life while we're in a prison of complete and utter horror.”

She had to sit. She was weary, with everything and everyone.

“I know this is hard for you dear. It's hard for all of us. Gabby couldn't know this happened. She didn't even know he was born. She didn't do it on purpose.”

“She didn't? She gets away with everything. She always runs away. She never has to deal with anything, unless it's something she wants for herself.”

Mom spoke up in her best teacher voice. “Listen to me. You have the satisfaction of knowing you helped Beth during the worst moments of her life. Gabby will never have that privilege and she will be the poorer for it.”

“Really?”

“Really. You have a heart of gold Lexie. I'm proud of you and Kate for being so kind to your sister. Beth never would have come through this horrible tragedy without our help. If you must know I feel sorry for Gabby.”

“Sorry? Isn't she doing exactly what she wants? She and Adrian together in bloody Japan, no doubt drunk on their own pleasure.”

Her mother watched her very carefully as she spoke. “Adrian and Gabby are no longer together.”