Kin (24 page)

Lila stood there. “You're romantic. Can I pee first?”

“I'm almost that desperate,” he chuckled, “but I have a surprise wedding gift and I don't want your nice suit to get ruined. I'll be back in fifteen minutes.”

“You're a madman.”

Ewan got in his truck and drove to his friend's farm. He picked up the gift and drove it back in a box that he had papered earlier—though the bow wouldn't stay on with all the nonsense going on inside the box. He quickly drove home, picked up the squirming carton and hollered from the door. “You have to come now or it will be ruined!”

Downstairs she came. “What's this?”

“For God's sake, open it quick.”

She did as she was told and two black lab puppies jumped up and down with excitement to see her.

“Two Freddies!” she squealed, and cried and hugged him, and raced around to pick up both the puppies at the same time, and they were so excited, they dribbled pee down her shirt. As she hugged them close to her heart, Ewan was filled with gladness. He'd missed that smile. He thought it had disappeared for good, but here it was and he was the one who had put it there.

“Where did you get them?”

“Bill, the guy who's buying the farm. His dog had eighteen puppies and he wouldn't let me take just one. He's desperate to find homes for them.”

Lila kissed them over and over again. “This one looks exactly like Freddy. Do you mind if I call him Fred?”

“They're your dogs.”

“And this one looks like a Willy. Fred and Willy. Welcome home, you beautiful creatures!” She put them down and they scrambled on top of each other and jumped up on their legs, but Lila was too busy kissing Ewan to notice.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

Lila stepped back and looked Ewan steadily in the eye for a moment. “I love you.”

There it was. The three words he'd waited most of his life to hear.

But the joy of that moment lessened somewhat after they stayed up all night trying to comfort two puppies missing their mother. He should've thought his idea through. Lila was completely distracted trying to comfort both dogs, and in the end, he fell asleep with Lila running in and out of the house, trying to get them to pee on the lawn or at least on newspaper on the floor.

That was their first night as a married couple.

The next night was shaping up to be more of the same, so for the first time in his life, Ewan put his foot down. He closed off the dogs in the kitchen, put on some music to drown out their whimpering, picked up his wife, and threw her on the bed.

“They'll be lonely,” she fretted.

“I'm lonely!”

Lila giggled. “There's no need to shout.”

That summer and fall were the happiest of Ewan's life. His brothers helped in dismantling the farmhouse, everyone taking something of use. There wasn't any room in Uncle Joe's house for Ewan to bring large furniture back, but the one item he did want was an old writing desk. He remembered opening it up when he was a boy and being fascinated with all the cubbyholes inside and the narrow drawer with a lock where his mother hid important papers.

Once that was done, he and Uncle Joe started to build the large barn that would house the cows and horses. Ewan hoped the cats would like the new barn and the chickens wouldn't be too upset by this change in their routine. He knew Lila was excited for the animals to come.

Lila spent her days training Fred and Willy, who were troublemakers of the first order. Poor old Boots spent most of her time upstairs on a bed to get away from the pesky critters, but every so often she'd cuff them in the face with her claws to remind them who was boss. Two puppies were ten times more work than one, but Lila thrived on it. The three of them were inseparable. The days she spent outdoors running with them brought colour to her cheeks, and Ewan was pleased to see that Lila put on a little weight. Even her dull, pain-filled eyes seemed to sparkle again.

She still had her moments, especially in the evening when all was quiet, but Ewan never interfered, resisting the urge to jolly her along. She was still processing Cricket's death, and it would take years for Lila to understand her new reality of life without her child.

They were both learning to live with Cricket's death, but neither of them would ever get over it. When he was alone, Ewan often cried for the little girl who used to run to him with her happy smile, shouting “Ooan.” The hardest part was keeping the image of her in the well out of his head.

In October, the leaves turned scarlet, orange, yellow, and gold before falling into crispy piles on the ground, perfect for striding through, and then being swept along with the nippy wind that chilled the bone and heralded the coming of winter.

And then at last it was moving day.

Annie and Henry came out with the kids to see the procession of animals walk from the farm to their new digs. It was much easier to walk them up the road than drive them, though of course the cats and chickens would come later via the truck.

The little boys were thrilled to see the animals come up the driveway, Ewan in the lead with the horses, and Lila and Uncle Joe bringing up the rear with the cows. Fred and Willy were left in the house so as not to ruin the parade, and they weren't shy about letting everyone know they were upset.

The entire gang walked with the animals to the new barn, where everything was ready—their stalls, the hay, the bags of feed, bridles, and the plow. They took pictures of the kids on the horses' backs and patting the cows. Then Ewan let his animals loose to wander in their new paddock. This new grass seemed to be to their taste, as they nibbled on it right away. The only hiccup in the whole day was when Ewan and Uncle Joe arrived with the chickens in two pens and the cats in another. John opened the door when his mother wasn't looking and the dogs ran into the yard barking up a storm. The cats became furballs and the chickens had a fit, feathers flying everywhere.

Eventually the dogs were corralled and the chickens clucked their displeasure in the new coop. The cats smelled around the barn and then ventured out. Ewan put down some food so they'd be lured back when they had finished the inspection of their new home.

Lila had egg salad sandwiches for the crowd and a large chocolate cake. Naturally it was a zoo inside; the twins ran amok chasing the dogs, the baby cried endlessly, and Uncle Joe told his larger-than-life stories of barn building.

As Ewan watched from the vantage point of the kitchen door, he silently thanked God for his beautiful wife, his good friends, and his healthy animals. If he died tomorrow, he'd die happy.

* * *

As the Pratts set off for home, Lila ran out to their car holding up a bag of molasses cookies for the boys. Annie rolled down the window and Lila passed them to her.

“My god,” Annie said. “Do you remember Aunt Eunie running out to the car with molasses cookies for you?”

“Yes! I'd forgotten it.”

“I also remember my nose being out of joint because she made them just for you.”

“Well then, eat these and don't tell the kids.”

Annie smiled. “Thank you for the lovely day. Ewan looks so happy.”

Lila leaned down lower to look at Henry behind the steering wheel. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

Then John hit Daniel, which made Daniel yell, which made Annie yell, which startled George, which made him cry, and the conversation was over. The noisy family waved and left in a hurry.

Lila went back into the house to straighten up and wash the dishes. Uncle Joe and Ewan were getting the animals into their new stalls. Anything that wasn't nailed down, the twins had moved, so it took Lila a while to get things in order.

When she reached down to plug a light fixture back in, she noticed the edge of a bowl under the sofa. She pulled it out.

It was one of Cricket's little bowls that she liked to fill with grass, only now the grass was dead. Missing Caroline hit her like a punch in the face. Lila hugged it to her chest and cried so hard she couldn't breathe, so hard she frightened Fred and Willy, who hid their heads in the corner; so hard that when Ewan and Uncle Joe came running she didn't know they were there.

Nearly three years after Frankie was born, her little sister Colleen came into the world. Both David and Kay were expecting another beautiful baby doll. What a surprise they had when Colleen screamed from morning till night. She was as dark as her sister was blonde, and when her face screwed up, wailing for hours, it became bright red. Her grandmother Virginia said she looked like the devil.

David wanted to punch his mother-in-law's lights out. He and Kay had moved into a very nice house in the South End of Halifax. Kay's father insisted he buy it for them as a belated wedding gift. He didn't want his granddaughters living in an apartment. David didn't like to point out that they were too young to know where they lived, so he decided to shut up about it and take the gift.

He was becoming more and more accustomed to the high life, but he never let on to Kay's mother. He knew that she was waiting for him to screw up, and that she'd wait forever if she had to.

David worked for the Hanover empire as a lawyer in the office that dealt with the shipyards and granaries down by the docks. He knew he had to start somewhere and that he wasn't ready for a big corporate office just yet, but that was his future goal. He wanted to make his father proud.

It was hard to believe that David's dad, a pilot and mathematician in the First World War, a master machinist who ran the naval shipyards in the Second World War, only had a grade six education. His love of reading had taught him about the world and everything in it. David took after him. Kay was always complaining that he had his nose in a book and he told her that at least he wasn't at a bar downtown every night, like some his colleagues.

Life in the fifties was a complete turnaround from the forties. There was hope, optimism, and money to be spent. More and more people had cars, and luxury items for the home. Not having a wringer washer was a huge deal, and more and more people had dryers and dishwashers, miracle machines for busy moms everywhere.

Naturally, Kay had only the best of everything. She loved to shop and she did it brilliantly, especially for Frankie. The child always looked like she was in an advertisement. It wasn't as easy with Colleen. She inevitably threw up on her clothes or twisted about in them until they were a wrinkled mess.

One evening, David came home to Kay crying in the kitchen while she bounced Colleen up and down in her arms.

“What's the matter?”

“Your daughter has cried all afternoon. I'm going out of my mind. I don't even like her anymore.”

David couldn't help laughing. There was Frankie, as good as gold on the floor, moving pots and pans around while giving him a sweet grin. Colleen looked at him and screeched.

“Give her to me.”

Kay was more than happy to pass her over. “There is something wrong with the child besides colic. The doctor pats me on the head and says she'll grow out of it. I feel like a failure!” She sat on one of the kitchen chairs and held a dishtowel to her face to mop up her tears.

David went over and patted her on the back. “You're a wonderful mother. There's no one better.”

“I'm never having another one. Do you hear me? Never!”

David dismissed her. “Don't be ridiculous. She'll soon settle down.”

But she didn't. By ten that night, Kay had escaped into Frankie's bedroom and refused to come out, and David was ready to rip his hair out. He dressed Colleen and took her for a walk in the cold night air, but that didn't help. He drove her in the car around the block a few times. Again, nothing changed.

At eleven, both he and his cranky daughter were exhausted. Colleen lay limp in his arms, still
sup-supping
, with her voice almost gone. She looked up at him at one point and he swore he saw pain in her eyes. He couldn't stand it anymore. He called Annie.

“I was sound asleep,” she moaned. “If you're not dying, hang up.”

“We can't get Colleen to stop crying. The doctor says it's colic, but I think there's something else going on.”

“Here's Henry.”

Henry's sleepy voice came on the phone. David poured out his tale of woe.

“It sounds to me like she could have lactose intolerance or a milk allergy.”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

“Yes and no. It's too late to explain it now. Go to your doctor and demand she be tested.”

“Thanks, Henry.”

“Good luck.”

David covered Colleen with a baby blanket and laid her on his chest. They fell asleep on the living room couch and snored together until morning. Then the weary parents left Frankie with her grandmother, something neither of them liked doing, and took Colleen to the doctor.

Once they were in his office, the doctor listened carefully to what David had to say.

“I told you these symptoms the last two times I was here, but now you're concerned because my husband is with me?”

The appointment went downhill from there.

Once the tests were done and it was discovered that Colleen did have a milk allergy, they felt dreadful that they hadn't done something sooner. With a new formula Colleen was a different baby in a matter of weeks, but as she grew it was evident she was still high-strung and much more sensitive than her sister. If anyone looked at her the wrong way, she hid her face in her mother's skirts, which meant her grandmother Virginia never saw her. David didn't blame Colleen for hiding from the wicked witch.

Virginia made a point of paying more attention to Frankie, constantly saying that she looked like Kay as a baby. She often wondered aloud where on earth Colleen had come from. “Perhaps she's a throw-back from your side of the family, David. All those savage Scotsmen running around in kilts.”

“I'm sure she'd rather be a proud Scot than belong to the German house of Hanover.”

When Virginia stormed out the door, Kay was annoyed with him. “I swear you do that on purpose.”

“Of course I do it on purpose. Who does she think she is? And why do you let her talk about Colleen that way?” David loosened his tie and sat at the kitchen table. Frankie held up her arms. “Up. Up.” He picked her up and played horsey, as Colleen watched them with her big brown eyes from her high chair.

Kay was at the stove cooking potatoes. “I don't talk because it only encourages her. She knows how to get under your skin. The best thing you can do is ignore her.”

“I won't let your mother say anything about my girls.”

Kay poked at the potatoes with a fork. “Does that include me?”

“Have you forgotten that I proposed to you in front of her?”

“I sometimes wonder if you did that more for your sake than mine.”

David sighed. “What have I done now?”

“Nothing.”

Once it was time for bed, David went into the girls' rooms and watched them sleeping in their cribs. He still looked for traces of Caroline, but he never saw any resemblance. He reluctantly admitted to himself that Ewan must have been Cricket's father, which made him sad. He couldn't explain why. It was a wound he carried around, but no one else knew.

When he got into bed, Kay had her back to him. Her silk pyjamas shimmered in the light of his table lamp. He turned it off and scooted over to put his arm around her. “I love you.”

“So you say.”

It was going to be one of those nights.

“Kay, I have no idea what I'm doing to piss you off.”

“You're not pissing me off. I'm tired.”

“Too tired to make another baby?”

Kay turned around to face him. “That's all I am to you, isn't it? You want baby after baby and you don't care how I feel about it.”

“You said you wanted a big family.”

“I've changed my mind.”

David sat up. “How can you change your mind without consulting me?”

Kay sat up too. “You do it all the time.”

“I do?”

Kay groaned and flopped back on her pillow. “You always seem so surprised when I point out your behaviour. I can't figure out if you're very stupid or very clever.”

David crawled on top of her. “I must be a very clever man—I married you, didn't I? I can't help it if I love you and want your babies. They're so darn cute.”

Kay smirked. “Oh, here it comes. You'll charm me into submission.”

David kissed her neck and nuzzled her ear. “Is it working?”

She put her arms around him. “You do love me, don't you?”

“What a ridiculous question.”

* * *

September of 1954 saw the Pratt twins start school. John and Daniel were happy to go to primary. They told George how much he was going to miss, but in typical two-year-old fashion, George didn't care. Annie did. Little did her sons know the horrors that lay in wait for them.

Annie couldn't sleep the night before their first day, and Henry couldn't either; she was up and down like a yo-yo.

“What are you so nervous about? They'll be fine.”

“They're bigger than most five-year-olds. The teacher will be harder on them, you watch. And you know what they're like. John will push someone and Daniel will join in. It's going to be a disaster.”

Henry rubbed his eyes. “Every kid in the history of the world has survived their year in primary. I'm sure ours will too.”

“Spoken like a true man.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn't a compliment.”

“Did you have a bad experience in school or something? You're anticipating the worst before they've even darkened the door of the classroom.”

“I hated school.”

Henry fluffed his pillow and turned away from her. “Don't let the boys know that.”

Annie sighed and laid down in the dark. “Do we have any bananas downstairs?”

“Uh-oh.”

“Can't I have a banana for bananas' sake?”

“Nothing is that simple with you.”

The boys were up at six and working themselves into a lather of excitement. Annie had given them both a bath the night before, but she scrubbed their faces, necks, and hands anyway. On went their new plaid shirts and sweater vests, ironed pants, and shiny shoes. Annie never dressed them alike. She preferred to see them as two separate entities and not as halves of a whole.

Henry gave them their breakfast as Annie got herself and George dressed for the procession to school. Both grandmothers were insisting on coming too. Joy would have her enormous camera and make everyone stand still for minutes on end while she fussed with it.

Joy and Mom walked in the back door just as Annie made it downstairs with George on her hip. Henry put the boys' school bags on their backs and handed them their Lone Ranger lunch boxes. Then Annie made the boys take off their school bags and put down their Lone Ranger lunch boxes to go upstairs and brush their teeth.

Finally they were on their way. Henry waved them goodbye before he went into his office. It was a lovely day, perfect for walking, or for running up and down the sidewalk. Annie had George in the large bouncy stroller. It could be converted back into a pram if she needed it. Maybe she did need it. Was there a banana sale anywhere? All these silly thoughts to chase away the fact that her first-born sons were now going to spend most of their days in a stuffy building with germy kids. Annie felt slightly sick.

There were plenty of other first-time moms hanging about the school yard, waving goodbye to their offspring. As Annie had predicted, Joy made the boys stand still so she could take a picture. Then she wanted a picture of herself with the boys. Annie grabbed the camera and took the stupid picture. Joy suggested Annie and her mother might like to be in one, but Annie had had enough.

“They have to go. Say goodbye.”

Both grandmothers knelt down and said goodbye to their little men, telling them to have a great time and make lots of new friends. Then Annie took them by the hands and walked with them over to the school steps. She could do this. They weren't going to Siberia. They would be home this afternoon. It would be all right.

No, it wouldn't.

The minute Annie leaned over and gave them both a kiss; they hung onto her legs and cried their hearts out.

“I don't want to go, Mommy!” Daniel wailed. “I want to stay with you.”

“I don't like this place,” John sobbed. “I have a tummy ache.”

Oh God. The mothers of boys gave Annie sympathetic looks. The mothers of girls looked smug. Their little angels were so ready for school they had their pencil cases and rulers out.

Both grandmothers were wringing their hands and looking distressed. Even George seemed worried. They were no bloody help. What she needed was someone to slap her and/or the boys. She took a deep breath and knelt between them.

“I want the two of you to stop this nonsense right now. You're going to have a great time and Mommy will be here to pick you up after school. Do you understand?”

They shook their heads. “No, Mommy. Don't go!” they cried in unison.

Annie wanted to pick them up and run home. Instead she took them by the hands and literally dragged them into the school, all the while telling them what fun it was going to be. Annie was surprised a bolt of lightning didn't strike her dead for lying to her children.

The primary teacher had the look of someone who'd been through the wars. She was no-nonsense and took in Annie's situation with a quick glance.

“For goodness' sake! We have twins this year. How exciting! The children will be very happy to see you boys. You come with me and we'll have a jolly time.”

Both boys were still wailing as she shut the classroom door. Annie ran out of the building and burst into tears. That's when she knew for sure Henry had knocked her up. She marched over to her entourage and sniffed, “I have to buy some bananas.”

* * *

In the two years since Ewan and Lila married, their family had expanded too. There were now three goats, a couple of sheep, a donkey, and two terrifying geese who thought they owned the joint. The horses and cows enjoyed the company, but the chickens were miffed about the geese. So were the cats, but good old Fred and Willy loved everybody.