Winter Shadows (32 page)

I
got dressed and made scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee for Blair and me. She came in just as the last piece of toast popped up.

“There was bacon in the fridge,” she said, yawning. She was dressed for work, in jeans and an oversized plaid shirt.

“I’ll make it next time. I called Martin. He’s coming over to drive me to Dad’s.” I couldn’t seem to call it home.

“Good,” she said, pulling her hair into a ponytail with an elastic. “I sat in bed last night, making a decision, too. And then I acted on it.”

“What was it?”

“I called my ex, Tom. We talked for an hour. He’s moving back to Selkirk for a year to manage a friend’s framing and art gallery. There’s a small apartment above the shop, big enough for a studio. That way Tom can paint, but also make a living. He likes Winnipeg, but misses his friends here.”

“Like you.”

She grinned. “Yeah, like me. I told him I wasn’t off my rocker anymore. He laughed.”

I guess my fear showed on my face because she said, “This won’t affect your being here, if that’s what you’re worried about, Cass. He knows about you. No … we’ll take it one day at a time. I’ll just be glad to see him again. I feel … ready.”

I nodded, still feeling uneasy.

“I mean it, Cass. I’m not rushing into anything. It will all be fine. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. That’s settled.”

We ate our breakfast. I tried to enjoy it, but knew what lay ahead at Old Maples. When Martin knocked, I reluctantly got ready for the drive to the guillotine.

“Call if you need me,” Blair said, making sure I had my cell phone.

Martin took my hand, and we headed to the truck. As we drove down River Road, the sun peeked over the line of trees across the river, spraying luminescent rays and throwing long shadows across the frozen white. A few cars lumbered past, the drivers wrapped in woolen hats and scarves.

Old Maples sat solidly under its heavy rounded cap of snow. It had once been Beatrice’s beloved home.
Would it ever feel like mine again?
Maybe, one day, I’d live here with my own family, but for now it was Dad and Jean’s. Not mine. Not Mom’s. I left Martin listening to a CD and went
in the back way to find Daisy sitting in the breakfast nook.

“Jonathan’s still in bed. Mom’s in the living room. She said if you came home early to go in there.”

“I’ll wait here until Dad gets up.”

“No! You have to talk to Mom anyway, right? She wants to make things better.” Her cheeks were bright red. “Please, Cass? Just go talk to her.”

“Okay, okay!” I edged down the hall. Jean was curled up on the couch in front of a snapping fire, wearing a bathrobe and slippers. Her hair was held up by a big clip. She looked softer – tousled and tired. She gave me a sketch of a wave.

I didn’t say hi. I was too busy staring at a huge balsam tree beside the fireplace, a pile of boxes in front of it. The room smelled of melted snow, balsam, and smoke. The fake tree was gone. For just one moment, I hoped to see Beatrice standing there.

“You okay, Cass?” Jean asked.

Cass?
Wonders never cease.

“Your dad didn’t like the blue-and-white twinkle tree any more than you did.” She smiled. “It never really mattered to me what kind of tree we put up. We bought that hideous white thing when Daisy was small and used it for years, so I guess I put it up because it was something we always did. But I can see that you and your dad put great store in having a real tree.”

“Are those boxes …?”

“Yes. Your mom’s – Fiona’s – and your decorations. We found them in the barn. They’re all here. But I
haven’t given up my tree altogether.” She pointed to the dining room, where I could see blue lights flashing in a far corner.

I sat on the ledge of the fireplace and let the heat warm my back.

“Cass,” she began, “I realize I’ve messed things up right from the get-go. Your dad tried to point this out to me time and again, but I just felt he didn’t understand my position or your attitude to me. But when Daisy took your side and tried to leave last night, it really hit me: I’ve made a mess of everything. I talked to Daisy. She says you’ve only been responding to me like you have because I don’t listen … because I’m someone with my own agenda.”

I stared at my feet, not knowing how to react.

She went on, “I fought for everything I got in the way of concessions or support from my ex-husband. Then after marrying your dad, I was so busy putting forth my position, I forgot that you and he needed to have input into how your home was run. If I’d done one stitch in time, I could have saved nine. My little joke.”

I tried to smile. “What
does
that mean, anyway?”

“It means if I was paying attention and fixed what was obviously becoming a problem right away, I could have kept us from making things worse for each other. When I made that announcement about the baby at the party, I think I was trying to avoid a clash between you and me by not telling you privately. Stupid, I know. I also knew your parents wanted another child after you and it didn’t happen. I should have been more sensitive.”

I shrugged. “It’s done. No point in throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”

She laughed softly. “Good one. But the dirty bathwater has to go, right?”

“Yeah. It does.”

“It won’t be easy, Cass. We’ve said some things to each other that will take time to heal. But from now on, we can maybe talk it over when stuff isn’t working.”

“I’d still like to stay at my aunt Blair’s for a while. Come here weekends or something?”

She nodded slowly. “I’m not sure Jon will agree. He’s got some issues with Blair.”

“She’s ready to sort all that out with him. She’s a great person. The best. I want to spend time with her. And I think you, Dad … all of us … need some quiet time. I need to be by myself for a while. To think.”

“I’m not trying to push you out of here, Cass. But you might feel more like coming home after you’ve been away for a bit.”

“I have my own room there.…”

She stiffened, but then said, “I took away your room from you, didn’t I? I wanted so hard to make this Daisy’s home, too. I thought it would be good for you two to share a room and get to know each other. She was so lonely.”

“You wanted me to share for her sake though.”

“You’re right. Daisy’s dad has remarried. A woman with four kids. He’s not interested in Daisy. I was all at sixes and sevens when we moved in here – full of
anxieties. You see, I knew that if your mom … if Fiona hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have your dad in my life. Jon is the person I’ve waited for. You know, the one you hope will come one day. And even though I knew I was blowing it with you, I just kept on doing what I thought was right. But none of it was right. Was it?”

I didn’t say anything. She smiled sadly.

“I know how much your dad loved Fiona. I think, because you look so much like her photographs, I felt threatened somehow. Jonathan adores you.”

I was hearing an echo of Ivy’s words to Beatrice. I knew it took guts to say it. “But he loves you, too.” Surprisingly, my tongue did not fizzle into a burnt leaf.

She sighed. “Yes. He loves me, too. I know that. Just differently. So … I can only try, Cass. I’ll make blunders again. But you must call me on them … if you can … by talking, not arguing.”

“I’ll try.” I looked at her.

She was blinking hard.

“I think my being away for a while will help,” I said.

“But you’ll come back for weekends, right? Daisy would miss you if you didn’t. She’s turned into your biggest fan. So watch out, she’ll be begging you for sleepovers at Blair’s!”

For the first time, we smiled at each other.

“Y
our poor dad woke up this morning with a beast of a cold,” Jean said. “I’ll just go and make sure he’s okay. And soften him up a little about your staying at Blair’s – if you want.”

I nodded. When she came out and signaled to me, I crept into their bedroom and perched on the end of the bed.

“Jean told me. So is this what you really want?” Dad asked. His hair was on end, his skin whiter than usual, the pale freckles splashed across his nose like bits of dark soot. He looked hot and irritable.

“Yes. Just for a while.”

“You’ll be here for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, no arguments.”

Had he actually accepted what Jean said?
“Of course I will.”

“And when I’m feeling better, Blair and I will talk.”

“She didn’t have anything to do with my decision, Dad. I asked her if I could stay. She never once hinted about my living there. And she won’t do it unless you agree.”

He snorted. “But I bet she said this place was not a good atmosphere for you.”

I looked away.

He sighed. “She’s probably right. But this is only temporary, Cass. We need to talk it all out. I want you home with us. But I don’t want you to come home because I tell you to. I think you’ll want to return once Jean and I settle things. There’ll be big changes in this house.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll let you know. Get your things together. Jean can drive you.”

“No, it’s okay. Martin’s waiting.”

“That’s another thing we need to do. Talk about Martin.” He laughed when he saw my face. “Don’t worry. I like the kid. But a talk is required.”

I gave him a short hard hug. “I’ll be here every weekend, Dad. I just –”

“I know, honey. I understand. Don’t have to like it, though. I’ll expect you here every Friday, and you’ll go to school from here on Mondays. One month. Then we rehash this. I’ll be checking up on you.” He coughed and burrowed down under his blankets. “I’ll have that Martin talk when I feel better. Meanwhile, just assume you’ve been given it.”

I laughed, then went to my room to pack. Daisy was lying on her bed, her back to me. I could hear the odd sniff.

“I guess your mom told you what’s happening.” I zipped the bag shut and worked my way through the books I needed for the English poetry paper. Regular
school stuff could be picked up another day. I zipped my laptop into its case.

Daisy didn’t answer me, so I sat on the end of her bed cross-legged. “I just need some time away. I’ve been causing too much trouble in the house. I need breathing space. Dad’s okay with it. I’ll see you on the weekends.”

“Yeah, but your stuff will disappear bit by bit, until all that’s left is your bed and a few weekend clothes in the cupboard. I bet you’re even taking your laptop, right?”

I glanced over at my pile of luggage. “I need it for schoolwork. You can come and visit me at Blair’s. Martin and I could pick you up at school now and then, after Christmas. Take you over. Maybe have supper a few times in the holidays. We can all play Yahtzee.”

She rolled over. Her eyes were red. “What about Christmas?”

“Are you kidding? Strict orders to be here.”

She rubbed her eyes with her fingertips under her glasses. “Okay. Does Mom have Blair’s phone number?”

“Yep. And I have a cell phone. I’ll give you that number, too.”

She nodded thoughtfully, taking the scrap of paper I handed her. “I guess that’s okay.”

After I’d climbed into the truck and Martin pulled away, I just couldn’t make myself look back at the house.

When I hauled my stuff into Blair’s, I stood in the hallway, suddenly shy and awkward. She gave me a big hug. “What’s the deal you made with your dad?”

I gave her the short version. “I’ll tell you more over lunch.”

“Good. I hope the deal includes a family counselor. I know a good one.”

“I’m thinking Dad’ll decide if we need to rip our hearts out in front of someone.”

She laughed. “Right. Hi, Martin. You can carry your stuff up to your room later, Cass. I’ve set lunch by the fire. Nicer there.”

“Would it be okay if Daisy came over a few times for dinner? I told her we could play Yahtzee.”

“She’s welcome anytime. You decide when!” she said, heading for the kitchen.

Martin said, “Your aunt’s a great person. Think your dad and her will be friends again?”

I smiled. “Anything’s possible now.”

C
hristmas turned out okay. Dad asked Blair for Christmas dinner, but she went to a friend’s place. We were all a bit relieved, I think.