Amazing Grace (23 page)

Melissa starts jumping around. “We have to hurry. They're ready.”

“Okay, okay, but first…” He reaches into his pocket, takes out a velvet jewellery box, and opens it, revealing an exquisite diamond brooch. “This is from Grandmother. She wants you to have it and sends her love.”

My hand goes to my throat. “Lydia remembers me?”

“She does. Let me put it on.”

I look at myself in the mirror. “I'll cherish this forever.”

I'm in a daze and I haven't even seen my groom yet. Juni hands me a bouquet of wildflowers, Melissa picks up Beulah, who has our gold bands tied with a bow to her collar, and Jonathan takes my arm.

“May I walk you down the aisle?”

All I can do is nod.

As we walk out the back door, I can see our guests gathered under the oak tree, flanking the same county judge who performed our ceremony a few months ago. Everyone is standing. Nan is here, and Bruce and Patricia Samuels, Erna and her husband and the ladies of the church, Janet Pickup and Gladys Nicolson, among others. Dora has had the good sense to stay away. There's a very attractive woman standing off to the side looking shell-shocked, but I only give her a quick glance before my eyes land on Fletcher.

It's incredible. It's Fletcher, but it's not Fletcher. He looks fantastic in a suit. Why did I ever think he wouldn't? But there's something else. He's shaved his beard. He looks about twenty years younger.

“Is that you?” I holler over the fiddle someone's playing in the background.

“It's me! Get over here, beautiful!”

I'm almost giddy. When our little posse finally gets close enough, Fletcher reaches out and gives me a big hug.

“Hello, wife,” he whispers in my ear.

The minute the judge starts the ceremony there's a huge rumble of thunder and the wind picks up. We all look anxiously at the sky and then try to ignore the increasingly darkening skies.

The judge leans over and asks Fletcher, “Do you want me to stop? We can continue in the house.”

“No, sir. Keep talking!”

So as the wind howls and the ladies hang on to their dress hems, the judge hurries through our vows in a rather unseemly fashion. At the next rumble, Beulah decides she's had enough and wiggles out of Melissa's arms. She has to chase the dog around the tree to get the rings.

Just as he pronounces us man and wife, the skies open and huge drops of rain pelt down. Everyone screams and takes off back to the house. There is utter chaos for the first ten minutes, finding towels to dry everyone off, but by the time that's done, the church ladies have effortlessly put out the brunch and we all tuck into a marvellous meal of eggs, bacon, pancakes, waffles, fresh fruit, and muffins, washed down with gallons of tea. The girls even made an angel-food wedding cake for us because it's low in calories. It's demolished in minutes, along with fresh strawberries.

Jonathan waits until my mouth is full to introduce me to Whitney, the pharmacist girlfriend. She still looks overwhelmed. No doubt the poor girl has never attended a wedding like this.

“It's nice to meet you, Mrs…”

“Technically I suppose it's Mrs. Fairchild Willingdon Parsons, but please call me Grace. Have you ever been to the Maritimes before?”

“No. It's very…quaint.”

“It's that, all right.”

I can tell that Jonathan is nervous. He must like this woman a lot. When I get a chance I sidle over to Melissa. “Do we like her?” I toss my head at Whitney.

“She's okay. A bit needy.”

“Good. That's perfect for your father. He needs to be someone's knight in shining armour.”

“Ugh.”

I'm so happy the girls thought of this, and I'm even happier that Fletcher agreed. Melissa was right. These are the moments when families need to be together.

Fletcher comes over and takes my hand. “If you don't mind, folks, I'm taking my bride away for the night. Thank you, everyone, for a very special day. We'll never forget it.”

“Juni and I will clean up, Gee. Don't worry about a thing.”

I kiss my family and wave goodbye to my friends. Fletcher opens the front door for me and I gasp.

The Pontiac is in the yard, shiny, polished, and looking brand new, now that the bumper is fixed.

“Oh, Fletcher!” I jump up and down. “Thank you.”

He puts his arm around me. “Couldn't have a wedding without the whole family here.”

The minute I sit in the front seat a rush of memories come at me. I swear I can still smell my aunts' perfume. My head leans against the leather seat, and I let their essence surround me.

“This is the best wedding gift ever,” I smile at my husband.

We drive to the Keltic Lodge, the windshield wipers going constantly. The gorgeous views of Ingonish are shrouded in fog and misty rain, but we don't even notice. We enjoy a scrumptious meal of scallops and lobster and toast our wedding day with a bottle of bubbly.

Then we hold hands as we go back to our room with its two double beds and shut the door on the world.

We stay for another night, but then we're bored and missing everyone, so we hop in the car and go home, this time with me driving.

“I was Melissa's age when I learned to drive this car. I can't believe Aunt Pearl and Aunt Mae let me behind this steering wheel. It's the size of a hula hoop.”

“Are you going to let Melissa drive it?”

“Are you nuts?”

We get back home and have a great reunion with our furry buddies, unpack our overnight bags, and get dressed in our normal ratty clothes. Fletcher heads out to his beloved garage.

“I'll be back whenever!” I shout out the Pontiac window.

“Have fun.”

When I get to the farmhouse, I can hear voices down by the water. I cross the field, stopping to hug our wedding tree, and continue down to the shore. The girls are drifting on circular tubes that Jonathan must have bought them. He's sitting on the sand and Whitney is folded up on a towel, trying not to get a speck of sand on her. Her expression is pained, as far as I can tell under her floppy hat and sunglasses.

“Hi, Gee!” Melissa waves both arms at me.

“Hi, Gee Gee!” Juni has decided that's what she wants to call me.

I wave to them before I plunk my arse down by my son. “Hello, you two. Did you have fun while we were gone?”

“It's been an experience.” Jonathan turns his head away from Whitney and winks at me. “Wouldn't you say so, Whitney?”

“Oh yes. It's lovely here,” she says. “Really nice.”

“Come back any time. We'd love to have you.”

She lets out a scream. “Jonathan! What is that horrid bug? Get it off me!” Whitney flaps her arms around trying to get rid of the horsefly buzzing around her head. When that doesn't work, she leaps up and runs down the beach, still flapping her hands about.

“She's a city girl.”

“I gathered. When are you guys heading back?”

“Tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

“Sorry, Mom, I can't take any more time off. And I believe it's time I took the two amigos home. Wait until Deanne sees Melissa. The two of them are as brown as berries. I've never seen her look so good. Thank you for that.”

“This has been the best summer of my life—I thank you right back.”

Jonathan insists on taking us out for supper that night and Fletcher and I both have baked salmon and asparagus, with fresh fruit for dessert. Fletch tells us he's lost another five pounds, so high fives all around.

Saying goodbye isn't easy. The girls cry and hug us and we thank them for our wonderful wedding. I hug Whitney goodbye and try to ignore the look of intense relief on her face that this ordeal is nearly over. She did her best, and that's something.

Fletcher and I stand with our arms around each other as Jonathan's rental car drives out of the yard, both girls hanging out the window waving and blowing kisses. Jon toots the horn and they're on their way.

We close up the farmhouse and head home. It's only after we get back to the trailer that we realize how tired we are. It's been a long summer and I can't wait to get back to our normal routine.

A week later, after our evening walk, Fletcher and Beulah head for the recliner to doze. I wash up the dishes and drink my tea at the kitchen table, with the crossword puzzle in front of me.

The phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Jonathan! Nice to hear from you. What's up?”

He hesitates.

“Jon? Is everything all right?”

“Mom, I found your sister. I found Maria.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

All my life I imagined how it would feel if I ever had the chance to contact my sister, and my reaction is the complete opposite to the one I had anticipated.

“I have to go.”

“Mom?”

I put down the phone with a trembling hand and run outside to the yard, where I get sick to my stomach. Fletcher finds me bent over, retching. He holds my shoulders.

“Grace, are you all right?”

“I can't…”

“You can't what?”

“I can't do this.” When I lift my head, the world around me tilts. Fletcher steadies me.

“Whatever it is, we'll get through it. I'm here for you, Grace.”

“Everything was perfect and now this…oh my god.” I cling to him, trying to understand why I feel like my world is falling apart. I'm crying now and Fletcher very gently leads me back to the house, sits me in a kitchen chair, and passes me some tissues. Both the dogs are at my feet, looking very concerned.

The phone rings again.

“I'm not ready…not yet.”

Fletcher answers the phone. “Hi, Jonathan…She's a bit overwhelmed. What's going on?…I see. Look, she'll call you back when she's collected herself…Don't worry, I'll take care of her…I know you didn't mean to frighten her…Yes…Okay, we'll call you later.”

He puts the phone down and gives me a sympathetic smile. “You're in shock, that's all. Give yourself a chance to digest this. It's a good thing.”

“No! It's not! I'm so angry! How could she leave me and just get on with her life, never trying to find me or be with me? I don't want her to come here. I don't want her!”

I run into my bedroom and slam the door. This terrible darkness comes over me and it's like I'm nine again, hiding in the blankets on the bed. All the anguish I felt during those three days waiting for my mother and sister to rescue me comes back with a vengeance. How does that happen with only a few words spoken? My life is finally my own, and now this horrible sadness and loneliness punch me in the gut. Was it really there so close to the surface all these years? Have I made no progress? I'll be collecting a pension cheque soon. Do I still not know who I am at the age of sixty? It's pathetic.

And now I have a fear of the unknown. My life is out of control once more and that is a terrible thought.

I emerge from my bed cave and walk from window to window as Fletch and Beulah sit on the recliner.

“I'm so angry! I thought I wanted this, but I don't. I'm fucked up, Fletch! I want to disappear or hide or something. I don't want her to know how much she hurt me.”

“Listen, Grace, you don't owe her anything. If you don't want your sister in your life, then there's nothing to be done. Jonathan did say he hasn't spoken to her—she knows nothing about this. You're not under some time crunch. It's your decision and you shouldn't be hasty.”

“Blah, blah, blah. How do you know how this feels? Everyone thinks they know what I need and what I want. No one else I know had their whole family disappear.”

“My parents died when I was a kid.”

“But you had your grandmother.”

“And eventually you had your aunts. Stop blowing this up into something bigger.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Stop being angry at me! I didn't do anything. And stop being angry at the world. You're not helping yourself.”

“Why is this happening?”

“Everyone is afraid of ghosts.” He gets up and puts Beulah in my hands. “There is something you should consider, however this turns out. Your son has spent six months trying to find something that he thought would make you happy.”

Fletcher leaves the room.

It's two nights later before I call Jon.

“I'm sorry, Mom…”

“Jon, please. There's nothing to be sorry about. I appreciate your gift more than you can know. I'm just sorry I wasn't prepared to hear it at that moment. Please know I love you dearly for doing this for me. I will never forget it.”

“I should've stayed out of it. It's your life and I had no business interfering.”

“Are you kidding?” I laugh. “I've waited my whole life to have my family interfere in my business!”

“Still…”

“I'm not interested in doing anything about this right now, but how did you find her? For years I hit only brick walls.”

“It's a different world, Mom. The Internet makes things happen and I hired a detective agency—”

“You what?”

“Why not go to the experts?”

“You did that for me?”

“We both know what it's like to be without family. Since you came back to me, I wanted your family to come back to you.”

“You're quite a kid.”

“I'll have the information here for you when you're ready…or not.”

“Where is she?”

“In Toronto.”

“I could have passed her on the street.”

“I have her name, address, and phone number.”

“Well, I might as well write it all down, I suppose.”

He gives it to me and we say goodbye. I put the scrap of paper on the fridge door with a magnet and look at it. Maria Evans. So, she married. I wonder if she has children. Not that I care.

The next day we're out of fresh veggies and I tell Fletcher I'm off to the store. He sticks his head out of the garage. “Could you drop in and see Nan? She sounded stuffy on the phone yesterday.”

“Sure. I'll pick up some things for her, too.”

As I walk to my car I happen to look over at the trailer and there are the three dogs in the window watching me go. Beulah is perched on top of the bookcase, while the other two are at floor level. Fletcher made a staircase for her once we discovered she loves looking out the window. Beulah climbs up and surveys her kingdom most days, ready to sound the alarm when any strange car pulls in the yard, which is all the time. Then I notice the two cats, Tom and Jerry, in the kitchen window. You'd think I was leaving them stranded on a desert island. “I'll be back in an hour. Geez.”

The first stop is Nan's. Last night's snowfall is on the porch, so I take the small shovel she has leaning by the door and proceed to push it aside, then I knock and go in. “Nan! You here?”

“Yep, hold your horses!” she hollers from the john. The toilet flushes and she soon emerges drying her hands with a towel.

“Wasn't expecting you today.”

“Fletcher asked me to call in. He thought you might have a cold.”

“A cold? What gave him that idea.”

“He said you were stuffy.”

“I was peeling onions. Want some tea?”

“A quick cup while you make a grocery list. I'm off to the Co-op—whatever you need, write it down.”

She gives me my tea and starts to hunt through her cupboards. “I'm out of canned tomatoes and I need some more macaroni.” Then she starts on the fridge. “Margarine, eggs, and whipping cream.” She bends over to look in the vegetable crisper. “Fletcher mentioned Jonathan found your sister. Have you been in touch yet?”

“He had no right to tell you that.”

Nan straightens up and shuts the fridge door. “Is it a secret?”

“I suppose not, but…”

She sits in the chair beside me. “He's worried about you.”

“He's angry at me, more like.”

“There's lots of things Fletcher doesn't tell you.”

“Excuse me?”

She nods. “Sometimes he's afraid of you.”

“Fletcher! Afraid of me?”

“A lot of people are afraid of you. Didn't you know that?”

“Why, for god's sake?”

“He's worried you'll leave, and I've heard from a few sources around town that you throw things, like cookie tins. You have a temper. Pearl knew it; she bore the brunt of it.”

“I'll leave? He says that? We just got married. Twice!”

“He knows you're quite capable of disappearing, like you've done many times before. He's insecure about it. I doubt he even knows. It's a grandmother's intuition.”

“A grandmother's intuition is usually right.”

When I get back out to the car, I have to sit for a minute. Has my anger been on display…an obvious thing, even to strangers? Fletch shouldn't be stressing about anything. Not with his heart.

As I go up and down the aisles of the grocery store I'm in a flap and not paying attention. I crash into someone's grocery cart so hard I wrench my neck. People stare at me.

My hand goes back to cradle my neck. “Who was the idiot who left this cart in the middle of the aisle?”

As it happens, my doctor turns around with a jar of dill pickles in his hand. “That would be me. Are you all right, Grace?”

“Obviously not.”

“Come to my office in the morning.”

“Never mind. I'll take a couple of painkillers.”

“I'm not talking about your neck.”

After I deliver Nan's groceries and get home to put away my own, I immediately go to the garage, where Fletch is gabbing with his cronies.

“May I speak to you for a moment?”

“In a minute.”

“Now.”

All the men turn to look at me at once.

“I'd like to speak to my husband without half the village listening in!”

“Excuse us,” Fletch says. He comes towards me with a look of thunder, takes my arm, and walks me back into the house. Once we're safely out of earshot he turns to face me.

“Don't you ever speak to me like that again in front of my friends. Despite what you may think, I can only be pushed so far. I know you're upset about your sister, but taking it out on me is not going to help you. In fact, you should think seriously about getting help for your anger. It's hurtful and I'm not going to spend my golden years tip-toeing around it. I've managed to live most of my life without you. I can do it again.”

“You'd leave?”

“Of course not. I'd kick you out. Now stop taking me for granted, Grace! I'm not one of the dogs! I don't know why, but I feel I can say these things now that we're married.”

“Don't leave me!” I'm hysterical. The thought of Fletcher not wanting to live with me anymore never occurred to me, and now it's a giant sword stabbing me in the heart. “Don't go! I'm sorry! I never meant to give you a heart attack. Please don't go!”

I grab his shirt and press my face into his chest. He puts his arms around me.

“I'm not going to leave you, Grace.”

“I will never take you for granted again, Fletcher. You are the only thing in my life that's good.”

“That's not quite true.”

“But it was true for so many years,” I gulp. “I have no idea why you put up with me.”

“Because when you aren't being a shrew, you're quite nice to have around. Now, what was so urgent?”

“I can't remember.”

“Then I'll be outside. What's for dinner?”

I wipe the sweat off my face with my sleeve. “Umm…cabbage rolls. Tell the guys I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry, they have wives too.”

Once he leaves, I sit at the kitchen table and tremble. I'll be waiting outside the doctor's office in the morning.

The upshot is, I'm on some mild anti-anxiety medication and I have to have “talk therapy.” Something I would've pooh-poohed only weeks ago. But I will do anything to make it right with Fletcher, and if it means me telling some stranger about my problems, then so be it.

Turns out, it's surprisingly easy to spill your guts. It's also surprising to hear that I'm not crazy and my reaction to even the thought of meeting my sister was totally appropriate…for me. I'm not a bad person for not wanting to see her. The psychiatrist says I have to prepare myself for something like that, and it's obvious I'm not ready. No biggie.

The relief is overwhelming. What prisons our minds can be. He said with my history of abandonment and having my son taken from me, he's surprised I'm as normal as I am.

Who knew?

All fall, Fletcher and I are content. We continue to walk the dogs twice a day to get our exercise. Now Fletch even joins me walking up the hill, which he couldn't do before. We celebrate his hundredth pound gone with sparklers. It took him eleven months, which is amazing. His doctor is thrilled and says he's fit as a fiddle. This makes my heart sing. Whenever someone mentions how good Fletcher looks, he always says, “Couldn't have done it without Grace. She's the reason I'm here.”

The lead-up to Christmas is in full swing. I'm railroaded into doing the advent calendars for the church fundraiser because Delima said she shouldn't have to do them two years in a row.

“God forbid,” I whisper to Gladys at our meeting. She grunts.

“Something else I'd like to bring up for the minutes,” Delima announces in a clipped tone. “I've decided I need to retire from napkin duty. From now on someone else will have the responsibility.”

Napkins? “I'll do it for all the suppers and events. We can have themes and seasonal colours. Maybe I can sew up a few samples to show you what I have in mind.”

This sets my elderly ladies abuzz. It feels good to make them happy.

“I don't think so.” Delima throws me a look over the glasses hanging on the end of her nose. “We've always used paper napkins. You can't keep washing cloth napkins. They'll stain.”

“Maybe so, but you're retiring. You don't have a say anymore.”

“Just so you know, Grace, the napkins are always white. White paper napkins. It's been ever thus.”

“Time for a change.”

“I withdraw my motion.”

“You are a lunatic.”

“I'll be a lunatic with white paper napkins.”

Fletcher just about wets himself when I tell him of this exchange. “What's killing me is that this is actually a job!”

The advent calendars become the bane of my existence. I start to understand Delima's reluctance. All I do is cut out bits of felt and squeeze globs of hot glue everywhere. It's bad enough making the trees to attach to the banners, but the small ornaments that go into the daily pockets have me up at night. Delima tells me she wants one row of sequins outlining every tree, so I impatiently press one lousy sequin at a time into the glue and burn my fingertips. Nan helps me one day when she comes to see her beloved Beulah. We're at the kitchen table cursing up a storm.