Second Chances (3 page)

“It's perfect, thanks. Is William coming to the lake this summer?”

“Maybe for the odd weekend, but he got a summer job in a law firm. He can sleep on the pullout couch in his old bedroom when he comes.”

“As long as I'm not any trouble,” Elizabeth said. She winked at me over a forkful of potatoes as if I was in on her joke.

I stared back but pretended I didn't catch on.

After I'd helped Mom with the dishes and watched a couple of hours of television on our flickering black and white in the tiny family room off the kitchen, I climbed the stairs to bed. I'd thought the day would never end. All I wanted was to be left alone.

Elizabeth came into the bedroom just after I'd turned off my bedside lamp and settled under the covers. She undressed by the moonlight streaming in through the window on her side of the room, then undid her hair elastic to let her blonde hair swing loose. Dressed in baby doll pajamas with her long thick hair shining platinum white where the moonlight touched it, Elizabeth could have been a fairy princess — and me, the ugly red-headed stepsister waiting in the shadows.

When she'd slipped into her twin bed, she called to me in a loud whisper. “Darlene! Are you awake?”

I deepened my breathing and threw in a snore. I opened my eyes a slit. Elizabeth was on her elbow leaning toward my bed, staring at me in the darkness. After a few seconds, she sighed and rolled onto her side facing away from me, moving around the mattress to get comfortable. Then, one more sigh before silence from her side of the room. I kept my breathing deep and loud until I was sure she was asleep. I lay awake awhile longer, watching the curtains rise and fall in the clammy breeze from the open window.

E
lizabeth
and I made it to Campbellford Tuesday afternoon. We signed out some books from the town library and then walked over to Downey's Restaurant to order milkshakes. Elizabeth bought a pack of Players and some matches while we listened to the machine grinding up the ice cream. She lit up and blew the smoke away from the table out of the side of her mouth as she shook the match to put out the flame.

“Want one?” she asked and twisted her mouth into a sideways smile.

“I'm trying to cut back.” Not that I'd ever smoked except the time Tyler stole a few from his mother's pack. I didn't like the taste but probably could have gotten used to it. “How long you had the habit?”

“Not so long,” she admitted as she waved the cigarette around in a little circle. “I just like the smell and how I look holding one.” She laughed. “You know, like Jane Fonda in
Klute
.”

“Wasn't her character a prostitute? I can't remember if she smoked or not.”

“Well, she looked classy anyhow, just like me holding a cigarette. Say, how do you stand being stuck in that claustrophobic little cottage every summer?”

She leaned back as the waitress set a milkshake in front of her, holding her cigarette in the air like a flag. Elizabeth's eyes widened and she smirked as she looked at the woman's orange, beehive hair. The lady had used so much hairspray, the strands were the texture of cotton candy. She turned toward me and slid my milkshake onto the table. I pretended not to notice Elizabeth's hand rise above her own head as she outlined a mound of hair. I waited until we were alone to answer Elizabeth's question.

“Summers here are all I know. Mom inherited the store from Grandpa Jack before I was born, and we've been coming to the lake every summer since.”

“Yeah, I heard the story from my mom.” Her voice got sing-songy. “Your mom got the store because Uncle George wasn't making much money, while my dad's rolling in it. Without the store, who knows what would have happened to you. Plus, everyone felt sorry for your family after what happened to Annie.”

She paused again and studied me. Her eyes were like a cat's, watching and waiting for the mouse to move. The mouse was me.

I smiled and pretended that her mentioning Annie didn't bother me. “It was fun coming to the lake when I was younger, but it isn't as exciting now,” I said. No way was I going to talk to her about Annie. No way.

“I couldn't imagine being stuck here with my parents,” Elizabeth said. She pounded the cigarette into the ashtray and it split in half. “Well, I wouldn't have to worry about that since Daddy never leaves his office long enough to have a bloody vacation. If he and my mother ever went anywhere together, I'd know the end of the world was near.”

I searched for something to steer the conversation away from my family. “What's your boyfriend like?” I asked.

“Michael? He's very hip … and cute. He sings in a band and doesn't do much else. My parents have no idea how to take him, since all they think about is making money and keeping up with the rich neighbours, and he's just the opposite. They can't stand the very idea of me dating Mick, especially since he's black. They're scared their grandkids will be a mocha-coloured embarrassment. I should get pregnant just to see their faces crack.”

“A good reason to bring another kid into the world.”

“Yeah, well. It would give my parents something to unite over. God knows they don't agree on anything else, with the possible exception of looking down on those less fortunate.” Elizabeth lit another cigarette as she talked and blew a stream of smoke at me.

“I thought you wanted to make money,” I said.

“Well, it drives my parents wild to think I'm turning up my nose at their lifestyle, so I can pretend for a while … and it keeps Mick interested.” After a pause, her eyes zeroed back in on me. “Your father's gotten kind of fixated about things. Everything in its place, nobody out of line.”

“He likes things done a certain way.”

Elizabeth flicked the ash of her cigarette onto the table and swept it onto the floor with her fingertips. “That's the biggest understatement I've heard all week. My way or the highway, more like. Was he like that after he came out of the hospital? You know, obsessive about everything?”

I looked into Elizabeth's grey eyes and wondered how much she knew. She stared back at me without blinking. I took my time answering.

“My dad is how I've always known him. He … worries.”

“Mom says he wasn't always so angry. That he got that way after the accident.”

I shrugged then looked past her out the window.
Annie.
I didn't want to get into it with Elizabeth. I didn't want to get into it with anybody.

“Did I tell you that we have William over for dinner quite often in Toronto?” she asked.

I swung my eyes back to her face. “Really? He's never mentioned it to me.”

“Your brother's gotten cute. He's so serious about human rights and marching against the war. Not to mention, he's going to make lots of money when he becomes a lawyer. If he wasn't my first cousin …” Elizabeth laughed. She tilted her head to one side, looking me over. “You don't resemble him much.”

“No.”

“Annie and William looked like your mom when they were little. My mom has a photo album. You look like somebody else's kid altogether.”

“I dream that I am. Sometimes, I believe another set of parents will come find me and take me away from all this.”

On cue, the front door to the restaurant opened, and I broke away from her gaze.
Crap encore.
Tyler Livingstone was standing in the doorway looking around. I slumped down in my seat and watched him head toward the counter. He was wearing a Boston Bruins T-shirt and cut-off shorts that were frayed at the bottom. He'd put on muscle since the summer before. The sight of him made my heart beat faster, like a little clock running a race. Elizabeth followed the direction of my eyes.

“Somebody you know?”

I snapped my eyes back to her face. “Tyler Livingstone. We used to hang out when we were younger before we outgrew the kids in the sandbox thing.” I didn't want her to take an interest in Tyler … or to know of mine. Hopefully she'd never find out that Tyler and I had been inseparable until the summer before.

“Ready to go?” Elizabeth gave me a big smile and took a final suck on her straw. She reached for her macramé bag. “I'll pay for these. My treat.”

She jumped out of the booth before bee-lining it over to the cash to stand next to Tyler, who was ordering some food to go from the waitress with the big orange hair. He was leaning on the counter and turned his head to look at my cousin. I got up more slowly but made it over in time to hear her say, “Hi. I'm Elizabeth Hopp. Darlene's older cousin from Toronto. She tells me you spend summers at the lake too.” Elizabeth extended her hand.

Tyler pushed himself off the counter and shook it. He looked past her to me. “Oh, hi, Darlene. I didn't see you standing there. How's it going?”

“Just fine. You working this summer?”

“I start a road construction job tomorrow, but I'll be able to spend nights at the lake.”

“We're spending nights there too,” said Elizabeth. “It sure is getting hot, isn't it? I hope July doesn't get too unbearable.”

She pulled the top of her shirt open and shut a few times like she was letting off steam. I could see the crack between her breasts when she pulled her shirt open one last time.

Tyler looked at my cousin as if he was running her words around in his head. I didn't need to give them any more thought. I knew exactly what she meant.

“There's the bill.” I pointed to ours by the cash. “A dollar fifty.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Elizabeth. “Where's the fire?” She pulled some money from her bag and took her time putting it on the counter. “It sure was nice meeting you, Tyler Livingstone. We'll be seeing you around then.” She smiled in his direction, full wattage.

“Sure. See you around sometime,” Tyler said and grinned sideways at me before leaning back on the counter to wait for his food.

Of course, he might have been directing his smile at Elizabeth, but I wouldn't let myself think about that or I'd stop breathing for good.

The next two days passed slow as syrup. My mother noticed that I was avoiding my cousin and called me into the store.

“You're not being very cousinly,” she said from where she sat on her stool behind the counter. “Elizabeth has been moping around and you're nowhere to be seen.”

“I'll try to be better,” I said, “but she makes it hard.”

“Well, you try harder,” Mom said before she went back to doing her crossword puzzle. Without raising her head, she added, “She's out back.”

Elizabeth looked up from where she was lying in the hammock as I crossed the lawn toward her. I plopped down on the grass nearby. From my position, I could see my mother's garden and glimpses of the lake past the pine trees at the back of our property. Bees were buzzing in the climbing rose against the house and the air was hot and still, as if someone had turned on a space heater. Elizabeth kept one foot on the ground and rocked herself slowly back and forth. Every time the hammock swung to its highest point, she'd hold herself there and stare at me before letting it swing back through the shadow of the spruce tree. Her purple-tinted granny glasses made her eyes look big and owlish. She was freaking me out, which I knew was her plan. Her little blue radio sat next to us on the lawn. Cat Stevens was singing about a hard-headed woman.

“Do you want to come with me to see Gideon?” I offered when I couldn't take being watched anymore.

“Who's Gideon?” Elizabeth's head bobbed up again.

“The guy who delivers the mail. He lives on the other side of the lake. He also writes a column for the
Globe and Mail
. Mom always talks to him when he brings our mail. Last summer I didn't have much to do, so I started going over to his place to find out about writing for a newspaper. We sort of hit it off.” I didn't tell her that the reason I was bored was because Tyler had deserted me for his new friends.

“How old is he?”

“I don't know. Fifty-something.”

“He's old enough to be your grandfather. You're not the prettiest girl on the block, but even you could do better than that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You have so much to learn. Fifty-year-old men don't hang around with fifteen-year-old girls for their intellect, believe me.”

“Is that another Elizabeth rule of dating?”

“Yeah. Rule number two. Never date a man over twice your age. Someday they'll be pushing a walker and you'll be wishing they could just get it up one more time.”

“I should take notes.”

“You should. Someday my advice could be a bestseller. Like that woman in the paper.”

“Dear Abby?”

“Yeah, her. I could start a column and get rich and famous.”

I laughed. “The thing is you have to know what you're talking about. Gideon is
not
interested in me like that, so you're wrong about him. Have
you
ever dated an older man?”

“I went out with a phys ed teacher for a semester, but he wasn't that old.”

“Couldn't he have gotten into trouble dating a student?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Of course. That was why I did it.”

“Well, I'm going to see Gideon and will try to keep all your brilliant pointers about men in mind.”

I pushed myself up from the ground to go find my mother and let her know where I was going. I'd tell her I'd tried hard to get Elizabeth to come with me but she didn't want to. Maybe Mom would buy it. I'd be happier visiting Gideon alone anyway, once I shook off Mom's sigh and the disappointed look that I knew were coming.

I liked the hot sun on my arms and legs as I biked to Gideon's. It felt like a thick wool blanket keeping me warm. Trickles of sweat ran down my back where the strap of the knapsack chafed across my shoulder. The road veered away from the lake for the first while and then swooped back so that I followed the sun sparkling on the water for the last half mile. I could hear the drone of flies in the bushes lining the road and now and then crows cawing from the higher tree branches.

Just when I was starting to really cook in the heat, Gideon's little pine cottage came into view. It was built on a crest of land that overlooked the bay. Gideon lived alone except for his goat Nanny, four hens, a rooster, and a black lab named Ruby. He was one of the few who stayed in his cottage over the winter, maybe because he wasn't all that happy hanging out with people. Anyone could see that if they read his opinion column in the Saturday
Globe
. I especially liked the fact that he railed against all things stupid, most of all the Vietnam War, which I thought a total waste of effort.

“I was a big gun once,” he'd told me the summer before. “Not sure it made me happy. I like it better now, weeding the garden, writing poetry, and not dealing with idiots on a daily basis.” He didn't look like a poet, but just goes to show.

I found Gideon in the garden staking up bean plants. He was wearing denim coveralls and a wide-brimmed straw hat, and I thought he looked older than the summer before. His face got happy when he saw me — well, happy for Gideon, which amounted to a quick smile and his hand running up and down through his beard.

“Darlene Findley. You're a sight for my sore eyes. Did you grow a foot over the winter or am I sinking?” He straightened awkwardly and started walking toward me. Ruby leapt ahead and jumped up on my legs. I bent to rub her head.

“I'm a growing machine,” I said. “Just call me Twiggy with red hair.”

“Twiggy started a fashion revolution, if I recall. You might be the next one if you're not careful.”