The Hull Home Fire (17 page)

Tom laughed. “Be near those you love. You’re quite the joker, aren’t
you ?”

Mike crossed his legs at the ankles. “From what I’ve seen, you’re the one who’s
changed. And not for the better.”

“Ah. I see the plan now. Turn the tables on me. Make it appear as if you’re the
mistreated soul while I’m the louse who doesn’t give a damn.” Tom sat up
straight. His feet slipped off the stool with a clunk that sent spasms of pain
up his calves. “You broke our mother’s heart twice.” He fell back into the chair
as if worn out. “She was devastated by our father’s death and again when you
stayed away.”

“I realize how hurt you are.”

“Don’t talk to me about hurt.”

“Tom, forty years is a long time to hold tight to a grudge I don’t deserve.
You’ve treated me like I don’t exist. Well, I do.” Mike uncrossed his legs. “And
I’m here to tell you that I’ve had enough.”

“No one’s forcing you to stay. My life has been fine without
you.”

“I wrote letter after letter to you explaining why I didn’t come home for the
funerals. I wanted you to come live with me in Toronto after Mom died.”

Tom snatched Alice’s secret letters from the coffee table and threw them at
Mike. “You persuaded Alice to go behind my back.”

Mike stared at the letters splayed across the floor. “You haven’t confronted
her yet ?”

“Yes I did.”

“And ?”

“And nothing. Alice has a mind of her own. She defended her reason for going
against my wishes.”

The hint of a smile crept across Mike’s face. “So you can be reasonable when
you want to be. Tom, I love you. My professional life and family life have been
blessed, yet there’s an emptiness that only you can fill.”

Tom looked deep into his brother’s eyes. “I can never forgive you for staying
away from our parents’ funerals.” He turned his head away. “Believe it or not, I
have tried.”

“Is there nothing I can say to change your mind ?”

“Nothing.” Tom kept his head turned away.

Flames sputtered in the grate when Alice entered the house. “It’s enough to
blow you away,” she called. Her voice was barely heard over the noise of wind as
she held fast to the door to keep it from slamming shut. “Tom,” she said
quietly, “I’m home.”

“I’m still here,” Mike said.

“Yes,” Tom added, “you’re in time to see him leave for good.”

Alice took off her coat, hung it up, and placed her boots on
the rubber mat. She smoothed down her tousled hair and joined the two men. “Dear
God,” she cried out, hands to her mouth. Her face grey, she stared at
Mike.

“Tom,” Mike said, “this is the reason I couldn’t get home.” He stood on one
leg. The right leg was amputated just below the knee. A prosthesis lay against
the couch. “I didn’t want to shock either of you like this.”

Tom half rose out of his chair, then dropped back. He looked from his brother
to Alice, then back to his brother. Mike sat down and reattached the prosthesis.
Not a sound was heard. Even the fire seemed to quiet down in respect for the
scene unfolding before it. Alice moved to her husband’s side. Tom gaped up at
her. She smiled.

Tom finally found his voice. “W... what do you mean that’s the reason you
didn’t come home ?”

Mike’s hand trembled as he ran it through his hair. “The accident occurred on
my way to the train station to come home.” He closed his eyes briefly before
looking at Tom once more. “The roads were slippery from a storm the night
before. The taxicab skid down a hill and rolled onto its side. I was trapped.
The driver died on the way to the hospital.”

Mike stood up and paced in front of the couch. The slight limp was pronounced.
“I was unconscious for two days. It took six hours of surgery to save my
leg.”

“To save your leg,” Alice said. “But...”

“An infection set in almost immediately,” Mike said without looking at anyone.
“Two weeks following the first surgery, I had another operation to amputate the
lower leg, by now gangrenous. A full week went by after the accident before I
was coherent enough to even think properly.” He looked at
Tom.
“I wrote as soon as I was able. Mom never answered my letter. I couldn’t
understand why not.”

“I’m sorry,” Tom said.

“It wasn’t your fault. When Mom died I wasn’t well enough to travel and wrote
asking you to come live with me in Toronto.” Mike sat down. “It killed me
thinking that she died believing I didn’t care about her or Dad.” He took a deep
breath. “I wrote over and over. Even sent telegrams. Then I began to think that
Mom didn’t receive my letter. Or maybe she was so upset with me for leaving she
wouldn’t read it.”

“Mom wasn’t angry with you,” Tom said, his voice almost a whisper. “She was
broken-hearted that you had thrown us aside.”

“Then my letter didn’t arrive.”

Mike looked at his brother intently. The fire crackled behind the grate.

Tom swallowed, sick to his stomach.

“I tore it up,” he said.

Mike sighed. “I thought it might be something like that.”

Alice gasped. “Tom, why did you do such a horrible thing ?”

Tom winced, her words stronger than a physical blow. “Because I was a goddamned
idiot,” he said, and turned to his brother. “Mom was devastated over Dad’s
sudden death. When the letter came I was convinced it would contain phony
excuses why you weren’t here.”

Mike listened, his head lowered into his hands.

“Oh, Tom,” Alice said softly, “your mother deserved better than that from
you.”

“Mike,” Tom said, “I don’t know what to say.” He raised his eyes to the
ceiling, shaking his head over and over. “If I had given the letter to Mom, we
would’ve gone to Toronto. Instead
she died of a broken heart and
you went through the worst time of your life alone.”

Henry came into the room and looked from his father’s face to the top of Mike’s
head. “Mom,” he said. “What’s going on ?”

THE FIRE HAD DIED
.
THE
wind raged outside and the
sun was trapped behind a mass of clouds. Henry and Alice had left the two
brothers alone. A strangled silence soaked the air.

“Mike,” Tom said quietly. “Can you ever forgive me ?”

Mike looked up. “I already did forgive you, years ago.”

Tom pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose.

Mike walked over to him. “I came here to get my little brother back. That
hasn’t changed.”

HENRY WALKED DOWN THE STREET
and went around the corner, past
the bakery and the tobacconist. He retraced his steps to the bakery. His mother
would appreciate a bag of crinkles, a break from making a homemade dessert.
About to pull open the door, he turned and headed home. The Norris house seemed
to stand out larger than the others as he tried to gather up courage to speak to
Mary. He knocked on the front door, his mouth dry, his heart bouncing around in
his chest like a Ping-Pong ball. Snow fell around him. Large flakes covered his
shoulders and bare head. He tapped once on the door. If Mary answered, he would
be turned away without even a hello. Footsteps sounded behind the door, strong,
steady. Henry held his breath and waited.

Flora opened the door. “Henry, I thought you might stop off here.”

“How did you know ?”

“I saw you parade up and down the street.”

“Is Mary home ? I must talk to her.”

“Come in.” Flora moved aside for Henry to enter. “She’s in the kitchen having a
cup of tea.”

The snow in Henry’s hair melted into his eyes. He wiped it away
with his coat sleeve.

“Mary’s coming along quite good,” Flora said as Henry untied his bootlaces.
“The migraines are all but gone.”

Henry looked up. “And the baby ?”

“No problems so far.”

Henry followed Flora through to the kitchen. Mary sat with her back to the door
and was looking out the window. “Hello,” he said, surprised his voice didn’t
quaver.

Mary turned her head. “Mom shouldn’t have let you in.”

Flora gave Henry an encouraging smile and left.

Mary watched her mother go down the hall. “There’s nothing left to say.”

Henry sat down. “What about the child ?” he said.

Mary glared at him. “Don’t get comfortable. You’re not staying.”

“Your mother did the right thing in telling me about the baby.”

Mary laughed. “The right thing. That, my son, is a matter of opinion.”

“What do you mean ?”

“Come on. Henry, look at you. The ‘right thing’ has you squirming like a
trapped rat.”

Henry picked at a piece of the torn plastic tablecloth. “Don’t you care anymore
about what’s right and decent ?”

Mary stared into her cup. Tea leaves formed a maple-leaf pattern. “Right and
decent,” she repeated without looking up. “That’s simply another way of saying
you’re willing to do your duty, take responsibility for a mistake.”

“I want to be a part of our child’s life. I deserve that. He or she deserves
that.”

Mary didn’t reply.

Henry pressed on. “I want to marry you, be a family.”

“All you can think about is what is right, what you want,” Mary said, her hands
clenched like claws. “What about what I want, what I need ? I told you I will
never be an obligation to you or anyone else.”

“Our marriage wouldn’t be an obligation. I love you, Mary. I know now that I
always have.”

Mary flinched. “Lies won’t change my mind.”

“What can I say or do to convince you I’m telling the truth ?”

She lowered her eyes to the cup again. “Nothing. It’s too late.”

“I won’t give up. I can’t. You and the baby are too important to me.”

Mary peered at him. “Don’t you dare tell anyone else. This is my business. I’ll
deal with it.”

Henry glanced over his shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen. Mary had
turned back to the window.

Flora saw him to the door. “Give Mary a little more time.”

“More time. She rejects me every chance she gets, and it hurts more every
time.”

“She’ll come to realize that you’re nothing like her father.”

“What if she doesn’t ?”

“Then we’ll have to find another way to break her resolve.”

ALICE WALKED TO HENRY
’
S BEDROOM
and stood in the
doorway. He had come home an hour ago and gone upstairs without so much as a
hello. “There you are. I wasn’t sure you were home,” she lied.

Henry sat in a chair, his eyes fixed on nothing in
particular.
The book he had been reading lay on the floor, cast aside. He gave no indication
he was aware of his mother’s presence.

“What are you doing up here in the middle of the day ?” she said. “Your
father’s been asking for you.”

“I wanted to be alone to think,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“About medical school ?”

“No.”

“About Mary ?”

Henry looked at his mother, his expression blank. “Why would you think
that ?”

“I’ve been so preoccupied with Mom’s death and Mike’s visit these few weeks, I
failed to notice that Mary hasn’t been around much.”

“Her injuries kept her away.”

“That was true in the beginning. She’s been well enough to go out shopping with
her mother.”

“I guess.”

“Henry, you haven’t mentioned Mary since the fire. Actually, it’s been longer
than that.” When he didn’t speak, Alice continued. “She must be upset about your
plans for Canada.”

“She was.”

“You’re saying she’s not anymore ? Is that what’s bothering you ?”

“Partly.”

“I can see that you don’t want to talk right now,” Alice said softly. “I’ll
leave you to your thoughts.”

“Mom,” Henry said when she reached the door. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell
you.”

“I won’t pester you for answers. A question for you, however.
How has keeping things inside worked for this family so far ?” Alice sighed.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour. Uncle Mike and Dr. Kennedy are coming
over.”

“I’ll be down in a little while.”

TOM PUT THE
TELEGRAM
DOWN
when Alice came downstairs.
“Well,” he said, “did you find out what’s on his mind ?”

“He didn’t want to discuss it. But I was able to drag out of him that Mary’s
involved.”

“How ?” Tom said. “Were they all that serious about each other ?” He traced a
finger back and forth along one side of his jawline. “Henry started moping
around a week ago.”

“It has to be something awful,” Alice said. “I’ve never seen him brood like
this before.”

“Dot would have gotten him to open up,” Tom said.

“I know.” Alice felt for the locket tucked under her sweater. “She had that way
about her, especially with our son. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood when Mike
gets here.”

“Yes,” Tom said. “He’ll have a ton of questions about Canada.”

“It’s a good thing Henry will have your brother to look out after him,” Alice
said. “He’ll be lonely enough as it is. Tom, are you really all right with Henry
going away to be a doctor ?”

“I know what I thought before. But it’s all right now. It’s more than all
right.”

“It’s good that our son wants to be like Mike and Dr. Kennedy,” Alice said.
“Two excellent doctors.”

“Yes,” Tom said. “Dr. Kennedy told me the other night that Mike is considered
one of the top orthopaedic surgeons in
Canada. He’s even been
offered loads of money to work in the United States but refuses to go.”

Alice flashed her own smile of approval. “Very impressive,” she said.

“He’s still down-to-earth. Our Henry will follow in his footsteps.”

Alice hummed softly, flattening pastry with a rolling pin until it was
paper-thin, the way Tom and Mike both liked. Having cut up apples and sugar and
added a teaspoon of cinnamon, she put the finished product in the oven. The
aroma of apple pie cooking sailed through the house by the time the two supper
guests arrived.

Already on his way down the stairs, Henry answered the door on the first
knock.

“My boy,” Dr. Kennedy said, “a drink of screech will knock the chill right out
of my arthritic bones.”

Mike blew on his hands to restart circulation. “Good idea.”

Henry poured the drinks and sat with the men while they chatted about the
Confederation campaign.

Tom drank half the glass in one shot. “No offence, Mike, but Newfoundland is
better off staying a separate country with our own laws. There’s no telling what
sort of strange rules Canada might impose.”

“There would be many changes,” Mike agreed. “Whether bad or good would depend
on if you’re open to change.”

Alice called them to supper. “Mike,” she said when they were all seated, “Tom
told me you used to love fish and brewis with scruncheons.”

Mike sucked on a squared piece of fried pork fat. “There is no food on earth
than can compare with it,” he said. “My wife cringes every time I fry up a
batch. She won’t give it a try.”

Dr. Kennedy drizzled fat over his brewis. “Good old
Newfoundland food was the one thing I missed the most when I was away to study
medicine.”

“And Irish Newfoundland music,” Mike said. “Always makes you want to get up and
do a jig.”

Dr. Kennedy smiled, reflecting on long-ago memories. “The minute I opened my
mouth, everyone assumed I came from Ireland. I allowed the ladies to believe
that.” He grinned. “For a while, anyway.”

“Might as well have been Ireland,” Mike said. “No one had ever heard of
Newfoundland, let alone knew where it was located.”

Alice added extra fried onions to her fish and brewis. “Fred Russell, the
bakery man, visited Toronto once and told me it was a huge place,” she said, a
worried look in her eyes. “It must’ve taken some getting used to.”

“It did,” Mike said. “Once you get busy with school and books, your world
revolves around the university.” He forked a chunk of brewis into his mouth.
“The main differences I noticed were the number of people and the buildings.
Ten, fifteen storeys high, all made of concrete. Houses as well were made of
brick, none of the bright colours like the wooden homes here.”

“Must look awful dull,” Alice said.

Tom slopped vinegar all over his supper. “Sounds like a whole other world,” he
said.

“It grows on you with enough time,” Mike said.

“And,” Dr. Kennedy added, “the summers are longer and warmer. The winters much
colder. Except this winter, of course.”

Alice tried not to stare at Henry and draw attention to
him. He
sat quietly, eating like it was a practised exercise that required no
focus.

“Gathering fairy dust, Alice ?” Tom touched her arm. “What are you thinking
about ?”

She started. “Sorry, love. What did you say ?”

Tom chuckled. “You left us for a while there.”

Dr. Kennedy exchanged a look with Alice. “I’d say your wife was thinking about
Henry’s imminent departure. All mothers fret about a child leaving home.”

Alice sneaked another glance at her son. She was sure he hadn’t heard a word.
“You’re absolutely right, Doctor,” she said. “Then again, you’ve gone through
the mixed emotions of a child leaving home three times.”

“Don’t worry,” Mike said. “I’ll take good care of my nephew. He can stay with
me as long as he likes.”

Alice drank a mouthful of water. “That’s very good of you, Mike. Will your wife
mind having a young man underfoot ?”

“Not in the least. Our two sons are married. Lilah will be in her glory having
someone other than me to fuss over.”

Tom turned to Henry. “What do you think of that ?”

“Uncle Mike, I appreciate your generous offer.” He shoved food around his
plate. “I can’t take you up on it.”

“Why not ?” Tom said.

Henry took a deep breath. “I’ve changed my mind about school.”

Dr. Kennedy stuck a finger in his ear as if to clear away the wax. “Did I hear
you correctly ?”

Tom’s face flushed a deep red. “What’s all this about, Henry ?”

Alice looked at her husband with sad eyes. “Please don’t be angry with
him.”

“Love, I’m confused, not angry. Henry, I’ve been hard on you
about school. That’s behind us now. Medical school is a grand idea.”

Mike wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Why the sudden change of heart ?” he
said quietly.

Henry looked from one to the other. “I can’t say.” He pushed back his chair and
rushed out of the kitchen. The front door opened and closed.

Tom’s mouth hung open. “What in the hell was that about ? He was over the moon
about medical school and being a doctor.”

Alice stared around the table. “I know Mary’s been on his mind since the
fire.”

“It’s most likely a case of nerves,” Mike said. “Moving to a new country is a
daunting step for someone who’s never been away from home before.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Tom said. The creases in his forehead deepened. “I
know my son. Something really serious has happened. Something so awful he can’t
tell us.”

Dr. Kennedy rubbed his chin. “Henry hasn’t said a word to me about any kind of
problem.”

Alice glanced toward Dot’s empty chair. “He would’ve confided in Mom and she’d
have the problem sorted out by now.”

“I wish I’d had the chance to meet her,” Mike said.