Her Mother's Daughter (45 page)

“I can't have you buying me furniture.”

Michael took Gertie by the shoulders. “That was the best laugh I've had in years. It's worth every penny.”

In the end that's how Gertie told Ashley the story of her two mothers and her father—late at night, in the dark, while she held her in her arms. There were tears, of course, and some nights when Ashley still couldn't believe their betrayal. Knowing that her nana had been a party to it still rankled, until Gertie reminded her that her grandmother was an ordinary woman caught up in an extraordinary circumstance, doing the best she could for both her girls. She said that everyone likes to think their grandmothers can do no wrong, but that's not fair. Everyone makes mistakes, even nanas.

“But I'd never give Fred away,” she said. “When I feel him kick and move inside me it makes me so happy. Didn't Tansy feel that?”

“Of course she did, but you need to remember something. Tansy and your mom were your age when this happened, like you and Maribeth. What if you fell in love with Matt and suddenly Maribeth came along and took him away from you? You watch as she picks out her wedding dress and fixes up their apartment, and pretend to be happy as you walk down the aisle, knowing Maribeth is his bride.

“And then the unthinkable happens. Matt is dead and you're carrying his child. Your mother accuses you of stealing Maribeth's baby, and wants you to give your baby up.

“When you're in labour with this little bundle, I want you to think about what it must have been like for Tansy, knowing the minute you were born, you belonged to someone else. She had to love you more than life itself to hand you over and let someone else raise you. And then she had to stay away from the only family she has so that you could live in a happy and stable home. Now that's what I call love.”

Ashley didn't say anything after that.

One morning Bay got out of bed and called Dermot's house. She knew he'd be at work and she also knew that Tansy wouldn't answer the phone because it wasn't her place. She'd let the answering machine pick up.

Bay left a message.

“Tansy, I'd like to see you. If you don't feel you're ready to talk then you don't have to come. But if you do, I'll have the tea poured at three this afternoon.”

She hung up.

Tansy sat there and wondered what she should do. In a way, she didn't want to go. After that first horrible week, she was content within the walls of this old house, like she was wrapped in a bubble and the world outside didn't exist. It was frightening to step back into the minefield that was her life.

But Tansy knew that she and her sister needed to come to terms with the rest of their lives and it needed to be done before Ashley had the baby. The thought of her going through labour and delivery while she was estranged from them didn't bear thinking about.

So at three o'clock she rapped on the back door. Bay opened it and Merlin almost knocked Tansy over, he was that glad to see her.

“Hey, Merlin.” She gave him a couple of pats. “I think he missed me.”

“He did. Come in.”

Bay had the table set with their mother's silver tea service. Tansy looked at her.

“You did oatmeal,” Bay reminded her. “I figured Mom better be in on this conversation too.”

So they sat down at the kitchen table and Bay poured the tea. She'd even made plate of sandwiches, though the squares were store-bought.

“Eat something,” Bay said. “You look like a skeleton.”

“Ditto.”

They each took a sandwich and ate while they sipped their tea. After they each ate one more, Bay cleared her throat. “I'm not sure where to start…”

“At the beginning is usually best.”

“I'm not sure where to start because in one sense I've only just met you, and in another sense, I finally know who you are.”

“I can understand why. You've looked at me through a haze of lies for twenty years.”

“I can't believe you and Mom were able to pull the wool over my eyes for so long. I can't believe one of you didn't crack.”

“I did crack,” Tansy said. “The Christmas our daughter was three.”

“So you walked out that night knowing you might never see us again?”

“Yes.”

“What did that feel like?”

“Death.”

“How have you lived your life for the past fifteen years? You never talk about it.”

“I don't talk about it because it was my false life. My real life was here.”

“Did you ever love another man?”

“No. I had a lot of men to keep me from being lonely, but their faces run together now. I don't remember them. The final relationship lasted two years, but only because he was extremely wealthy and able to buy me luxurious distractions. He was a pig. He used to say, ‘Come give Daddy a kiss.'”

“God.”

“It turned my stomach when he said that—like the real me that was hidden inside would flare up in protest. I wanted to scream at him that he didn't know how to behave like a real daddy. He wouldn't know what it was to get up in the middle of the night and brave the elements for twelve hours a day, out on the rough seas in the freezing cold, just to keep food on the table for his family, or that a daddy would drive around in the dark and look for you so he could keep you from harm. That a daddy is someone who'd drag you out of a car and punch the boy who had his hands on you.”

Tansy fought to stay calm. “You know, it hit me the other day that I was Ashley's age when all these decisions were being made. I look at her now and still see her as a baby. She is in a lot of ways. That was us. We were so young and missing our father and there's Mom trying to do what was right without Dad to lean on. They always talked things over. I remember at night I'd hear them in their room, the low murmuring that told me we were safe because Mom and Dad would take care of it.”

Tansy picked up a napkin and dabbed her eyes. “I hope Mom knows that I love her and I've forgiven her.”

“She knows. Have you forgiven yourself?”

“No. Not until I hear it from you and I hear it from Ashley.”

“Well, that's why I called this family meeting. I'm here to say that I forgive you and Bobby, but only if you forgive me.”

“But none of this was your fault, Bay. None of it.”

“I want you to forgive me for taking Dermot away from you.”

Tansy was still. “What do you mean?”

“I led you to believe that Dermot was someone I loved and that you ruined everything between us. That's not true. There was nothing between us except friendship. We were drawn to each other out of loneliness. We loved the idea of being a couple, but every time we got together we'd argue or make the other person feel bad for one reason or another. If I loved him, I'd have been with him before Mom died. I knew deep down that he wasn't for me but I didn't want to tell him because he's so darn nice.

“But the day I knew for sure was the day I saw the two of you through the diner window. I saw a man and a woman deeply in love with each other. I have no right to keep you from that kind of love. Bobby and I shared that happiness and I know how precious it is. You and Dermot belong together. I don't want you to waste one more day without him.”

They rose from the table at the same time and met in the middle of the kitchen floor, where they held each other for a long time.

“Thank you for bringing Bobby back to me,” Bay whispered.

Eventually they sat down to finish their tea. All the sandwiches were eaten, even the dreary squares. And then Bay remembered something. “Just a sec.”

She went out into the living room and brought back a photo to show Tansy. It was the picture Ashley had found and put aside on the fateful day she'd rooted through old boxes, the one that showed the two of them up in the tree house, with their hair in braids and their grins gap-toothed.

“We looked happy, didn't we?” Tansy smiled.

“We will be again.”

It was after six o'clock before Tansy left Bay's house. She walked along the streets of Louisbourg and revelled in the cold north wind. She smiled at people as they passed by and thought how beautiful this little town was, perched on the Atlantic coast. Tansy felt sorry for anyone who wasn't here at this particular moment.

Dermot's house appeared in the distance. There was so much work to do. It really was an old barn of a place, but it was sturdy and welcoming. She knew she'd lost her mind when she wondered what sorts of flowers she might plant along the walkway in the spring. Wouldn't her mother get a kick out of that? She rounded the bend and saw the back of Dermot's truck parked in the yard. That's when she remembered she hadn't left him a note and had unthinkingly erased Bay's message off the machine.

Tansy ran up the porch steps just as he opened the back door. The look of panic in his eyes gave her a fright.

“It's okay, Dermot. I'm home.”

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to him. As they embraced, she felt his heart beating too fast beneath his jacket.

“I thought you left me.”

“I'll never leave you.”

Dermot reached up and framed her face with his big hands. “I adore you. You must know that.”

“I do.”

He rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “We'll take it slow.”

“I've been set free, Dermot. We have Bay's blessing. I want you to take me upstairs and let me show you how much I love you.”

Dermot picked her up in his arms and carried her across the threshold.

It was only two days later when Fred decided he had had enough and couldn't wait to join this whacked-out family. Naturally it was in the middle of the night, which always heightens the sense of urgency. He was still a few weeks early but the doctor said he was more than happy that Fred had stayed put for as long as he did. But he did warn Ashley that things could get serious in a hurry once it started, as she was already a bit dilated from her first scare.

When Ashley's water broke, she panicked.

“Oh my God.”

Gertie sat straight up in bed from a sound sleep. “What? What?”

“My water broke.”

Gertie threw the quilt aside and leapt out of bed. “Nobody move. Everyone calm down. Where am I?”

“My water broke on Michael's new mattress! What am I going to do?”

“Forget the fucking mattress.”

Ashley was shocked. “Gertie, you never swear.”

Gertie ran around in circles. “Of course I do, just not in front of you.” She took off like a missile and ran into her bedroom, where poor old Peter was snoring in peace. She shook him awake.

“Peter, the baby's coming on Michael's mattress!”

Peter grunted and shook his head before he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Michael's mattress?”

“Forget the fucking mattress—Ashley's having the baby!”

“Okay, calm down.”

“You calm down!”

“I am calm, Gertie.” Peter struggled to sit up in bed. “The baby isn't coming on Michael's mattress because we're going to get dressed and take Ashley to the hospital.”