What's Past Is Prologue, page 14
I smiled. “The one over the company that made dentures?”
“That’s the one,” Zack said. “The walls were paper-thin, and Libby was sobbing. I tried to comfort her but she pushed me off. Nothing I said or did helped. Finally she just mumbled, ‘I’m sorry,’ and streaked out of the building. It’s been years, Jo. I haven’t thought about it until tonight. Anyway, the firm made certain Fred’s money went where he wanted it to go and we closed the file.”
“And Libby never mentioned it again?”
“Not to me.” Zack frowned. “But it must have been six months before I saw her again. The next time I saw her was at the Ireland Leontovich holiday party. Everyone was saying how glad they were that she was back.”
“Did anyone specify where Libby had been?”
Zack shrugged. “Nope, just that they were glad she was back. Fred’s death would have left a big hole in Libby’s life. My guess is that she went away to grieve and put her life back together.”
“And she did put it back together,” I said. “I don’t know any of the other lawyers who articled with Fred C., but you and Libby are certainly a worthy legacy.”
Chapter Ten
When Pantera, Esme and I returned from our walk the next morning, the table overlooking the creek was set for breakfast, and Zack was in the kitchen with the coffee made, bacon in the oven, bread in the toaster and a carton of eggs on the counter, ready to go. “How would you like your eggs?” he said.
In the words of the old song, “I’d like mine with a kiss,” I said.
“My pleasure,” Zack said, and his voice was deep and sensual.
While Zack prepared breakfast, I went outside and put fresh nyjer seeds in the bird feeder. The pine siskins were quick to discover the seeds, so Zack and I ate our breakfast while the pine siskins ate theirs. The routine of daily life had returned, and the cobwebs of fear and anxiety that had clung to me since Libby Hogarth appeared on our front porch fell away. Somehow we had made it through.
“So what’s on your agenda for today?” Zack asked.
“Not much,” I said. “Call Margot to congratulate her for a job well done, get the guest room ready for Gracie and shop for groceries for our time at the lake.” I took the last forkful of my scrambled eggs. “I love when our Boursin au poivre has reached its best before date, and you add it to the eggs. So how about your day?”
“I thought I’d call Libby and tell her she knocked it out of the park last night. Should we send her flowers or something?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Libby and Sawyer are taking the early flight to Toronto tomorrow morning, so she wouldn’t have time to enjoy them.”
“Too bad they couldn’t have stayed till Monday,” Zack said. “It would have been fun to have Libby and Sawyer with us at Lawyers Bay.”
“Next time they’re in town, we’ll plan ahead.”
“Let’s do that.”
“Do what?” Taylor said.
“And good morning to you,” I said. “We were saying we thought we should make plans with Libby and Sawyer before they come to town next time.”
Taylor poured herself a glass of juice. “That is a very good idea. Last night being at Bushwakker with Sawyer, Angus and Leah was a lot of fun. And Sawyer told me that he’s the second chair on the Fairbairn case and both he and Libby will be going back and forth from Toronto to Regina until the case goes to trial in May. All of us being together at the opening tonight will just be the beginning.”
“And as always Taylor, when you come into a room, you leave us even happier than we were before you entered,” Zack said. “Now, I have to move along. We have a partners’ meeting, and I want to get everything out of the way, so we can have a great long weekend.”
“Family hug,” Taylor said. “A good one — to make up for all the ones I miss now that I’m living in Saskatoon.”
After Zack left, Taylor finished her juice and rinsed her glass before putting it in the dishwasher. “Jo, have you ever noticed how when Dad leaves the room, the energy level drops?”
“I have,” I said. “And if I’ve been somewhere, as soon as I walk through the front door, I know if Zack is in the house. And Taylor, after nine years, I’m still disappointed if your dad isn’t here.”
Taylor was pensive. “We’re lucky to have to have him, aren’t we,” she said.
“Very,” I said. “Now, how about breakfast? Your dad made us scrambled eggs with Boursin au poivre, and everything you’ll need is in the fridge.”
“Tempting, but Sawyer’s taking me for breakfast at Mercury.”
“Good choice. I had breakfast there with Charlie and Kam Chau after church last Sunday. Your dad had a client.”
“I’ll bet Dad was not happy about missing out on Mercury.”
“He wasn’t, but when Madeleine and Lena promised to bring us a pan of the eggplant parmigiana Mieka was making for dinner, Zack was, as Madeleine said, ‘mollified.’”
Taylor chortled. “‘Mollified’ — our young ladies are growing up.”
“They are indeed. When we got to Mercury, there just happened to be two boys from the girls’ school there. Madeleine and Lena joined them for breakfast, and the boys picked up the check.”
“Are we ready for that?”
“Ready or not, that train has left the station.”
“You’re right. There’s no stopping adolescence,” Taylor said. “Now I hear the siren call of Mercury’s eggs Benedict calling and I don’t want to keep them or Sawyer waiting.”
“Have fun, and say hi to Sawyer for me.”
“You can say hi to him yourself. We’re coming back here after breakfast. Sawyer says he has missed seven years of my life, and he wants to catch up, so I’m going to show him my studio here and then we’re going to have a swim.”
“A perfect morning,” I said.
Taylor sighed. “The swim is not just for pleasure; it’s therapeutic. I’m getting too excited about the show at Slate Fine Art tonight.”
Taylor had what is politely referred to as a nervous stomach. “Too excited as in throwing up?” I asked.
“It still happens,” Taylor said grimly. “I’m hoping the swim will tilt the odds in my favour.”
* * *
After Taylor left, I put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, took the cover off the pool and decided to kick back and relax. There was a big evening ahead.
Margot called just as I had settled on the couch with an issue of the New Yorker I’d missed during the holiday hullabaloo.
“I was going to call later to congratulate you on last night,” I said. “It was a triumph, and when I heard you take the wind out of Gideon’s sails, I added an extra ‘0’ to our contribution to the School of Journalism scholarship fund.”
“Thanks,” Margot said, but she didn’t sound triumphant; she sounded anxious. “Jo, I can’t find Seth. It’s probably nothing, but I caught a glimpse of him last night at the lecture, and he looked troubled. I started towards him. I’d worked out this speech to him that I thought struck the right tone — welcoming but not pressing. I was going to tell him that after our meeting yesterday, I realized how difficult his relationship with our family must have been for him. Then I was going to say how impressed you were with the work he’d done on Devi Sass’s home and that I knew Laurie and our younger brothers would be as proud of him as I am. As my socko finale, I planned to ask him what he thought was the best path forward to make our family whole again. Anyway, that’s what I was going to say, but as soon as Seth saw me, he vanished into the crowd.” Margot paused. “Jo, he didn’t just vanish, he ran away from me.”
“Zack and I saw Seth when we were coming into the Riddell Centre, but the place was so crowded, we just wanted to get to our seats,” I said. “Margot, I understand why you’re worrying. But emotions ran high last night. Try to put this in perspective. Yesterday Seth wanted to go across the hall with you to see Lexi and Kai. He decided not to because he didn’t want the children to see him upset and confused. It was a selfless act. Nothing Seth did indicated he was closing the door on your relationship.”
Margot’s sigh was audible. “You’re probably right,” she said. “But Jo, there was a wildness in Seth’s face last night that frightened me. He looked as if he was losing control.”
I felt a tendril of anxiety in the pit of my stomach, but I kept my tone reassuring. “Last night was a victory for you and for Libby. The speech she gave was the speech she wanted to give, and you did the groundwork. You made certain that when Libby stepped onto that stage, she wasn’t greeted by crazies who’d come to spit on her; she was greeted by people who were there to listen to what she had to say. And Margot, they did listen. When Zack and I stayed behind, all we heard were quiet discussions of the points Libby raised. You and Libby achieved what you were hoping for. That’s no small accomplishment.”
When she didn’t respond, I was sure I’d missed the mark. “Margot, there’s nothing pressing on my calendar today. Why don’t I come over to your place, and we can talk this through?”
“No, I’m fine. We’re all a little gun-shy these days. Anyway, today is Taylor’s day. She’s worked hard for this evening, and she deserves to have all of us who love her share the moment.”
“I agree,” I said. “Will Brock be able to get back for the opening?”
“No, and that’s another reason I’m rattled. Brock called about an hour ago and said his cold is knocking him flat, and the last places he should be are on a plane with other passengers or at an art gallery filled with people who care about Taylor and her work.”
“Brock will be missed,” I said. “But he’s made the right decision for himself and for everyone who would have been close to him.”
“You’re right,” Margot said. “And Kokum Bea is here. Lexi and Kai are still getting over their colds so I decided to keep them home another day.” Margot paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was brighter. “Kokum Bea is teaching our kids how to make a strawberry Jello cake. Apparently, it was Brock’s favourite when he was growing up, and Bea’s doing this great thing. She’s letting Lexi and Kai tell her what to do. She told me she’s made at least a hundred strawberry Jello cakes, and she stopped measuring ninety cakes ago, but Bea says she knows the right amount when she sees it. So the kids are using the measuring cup and the measuring spoons, and whenever they have the amount of whatever Bea recognizes as the amount she needs, she tells them to stop, and Kai calls out the number on the measuring cup or spoon. Lexi writes everything down on a page in her new cookbook, and Kai dumps the ingredient into the mixing bowl.”
“Bea is a genius,” I said.
“She’s the best,” Margot said. “I never worry when the children are with her, and Jo, when life settles down I’m going to send Bea, Lexi and Kai to your place to make you and Zack a strawberry Jello cake.”
“Something to look forward to,” I said.
“I’m sending you a photo of the strawberry Jello cake, so you’ll be appropriately grateful.”
When the call ended, I felt a wash of relief. Margot sounded like herself again, and when the photo of the strawberry Jello cake arrived, I printed it off so Zack could see it in all its three-layer splendour and remember that there’s always something surprising to look forward to.
Pantera and Esme followed me down the hall, and the dogs and I returned to our respective places in the family room. I am not a hoarder, but I do hoard copies of the New Yorker. I keep a stack of them in an old filing cabinet in our home office because every issue seems to contain something I meant to read and never managed to get around to. Over the holidays, I discovered a real treasure: the December 21, 2020, issue of the New Yorker that included Hilton Als’s review of August Wilson’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom and, after the dogs flattened themselves on the rug beside me, I curled up and started reading.
I always read Hilton Als’s pieces three times: once for his analysis of why a play or film succeeded or failed, once for the sheer joy of his pellucid prose and once for his insights into worlds about which I knew too little and he knew so much.
Als never disappointed, and his criticism of playwright August Wilson’s depictions of women was eye-opening for me: “[Women] exist in full-blooded ways in several of his plays, but often they’re present as a kind of pillow on which Black masculinity gets to rest its weary head.”
I was still marvelling over how Hilton Als managed to say so much in so few words, when Kevin Coyle called.
He seemed to be in good spirits. “I’ll save you the trouble of asking if Bequia is still paradise. It is, and it keeps getting better. Do you remember me telling you about the Bequia mystery series that Eden Sass gave me before I left?”
“I do. I take it you’re still enjoying the books?”
“Very much, and I have not only met the author, she and her husband have invited me for brunch on Sunday.”
“Not even a famous writer can resist that Kevin Coyle charm,” I said.
Kevin chuckled. “Thank you, Joanne. That’s very kind.” When he continued, the fun had disappeared from Kevin’s voice. “Joanne, I need your help with what may be a problem. Devi Sass and I had talked about her coming down here for a week or so after the lecture was over. The place I’m renting for the month has three bedrooms, and I told Devi if she wanted to bring Eden with her, there was plenty of room.”
“Kevin, you really are a good guy. A week of anonymity, sunshine and tropical beaches sounds like exactly what both she and Devi need!”
“That’s what I thought,” Kevin said, “and Devi agreed with me. But today when I called her to see when I could expect them, Devi did not sound like herself. It seemed as if she didn’t remember we’d even talked about them coming here. When I asked her if there was something wrong, she said, ‘Everything is wrong,’ and then she ended the call.” He paused. “Joanne, Devi is not given to erratic behaviour.”
“That does seem uncharacteristic,” I said. “Have you talked to Kam Chau? Since Kam’s in your building, maybe he could check in on her. I saw him at the Mellohawk Lecture last night, so I know he’s in town.”
“I tried to call Kam, but his voicemail message says he’s in meetings all day. I was hoping you might have heard something.”
“I haven’t,” I said. “But I did see Devi last night after the lecture.”
“And she was fine then?” Kevin’s tone called for reassurance, but I had none to give. The confrontation Zack and I witnessed between Devi and her brother in the Riddell Centre parking lot was disturbing, but it was a family problem for Gideon and Devi to settle privately. That said, until now Kevin had been truly enjoying island life. Telling him what Zack and I saw wouldn’t allay his anxiety about Devi, but it would at least give him insight into why she was distressed when he’d called her.
My account of the confrontation was concise, and Kevin listened to it without comment. When I finished he said, “Do you have any idea what Gideon said that caused Devi’s reaction?”
“No. Just that Gideon’s question, ham-handed as it was, gave Libby the opportunity to end her lecture gracefully and, to be frank, quickly without any more awkward questions. I don’t understand why that would have been a problem for Devi.”
“Neither do I. When she and I were discussing the possibility of her coming to Bequia, Devi said that she was looking forward to the lecture being over, so she could finally close that chapter of her life and never have to think about the past again.”
“It sounds as if Eden’s wounds are Devi’s wounds,” I said.
“That’s the way it is for Devi. Eden was twelve when Devi ‘swooped in’ — that’s how Devi describes what she did — took Eden from Gideon’s and brought her niece home with her. Devi has been devoted to her ever since.”
“I know Eden’s mother left shortly after Eden was born. Did Devi explain what happened there?”
“She was the woman Gideon had hired to take care of his boys after their own mother flew the coop. The only thing Devi ever said about the second wife leaving was that ‘it was all too much for her.’”
I cringed. “Two wives who walk out the door leaving their children behind. That’s an ugly pattern, but Gideon gets marks staying the course.”
“Devi agrees with you on that point, but Gideon was relieved when Eden became Devi’s responsibility.”
“Eden was relieved too,” I said. “In her podcast, The Long Arm of Childhood, Eden said that she was always an outsider in Gideon’s house. She was so much younger than her brothers. Gideon didn’t have much time for her, but he did try to give her the advantages that he gave the boys: lessons in martial arts, marksmanship and all that. But Eden was better at everything than her brothers, and Gideon felt she was eroding the boys’ confidence, so she was excluded.”
“Devi told me that Eden’s brothers bullied her,” Kevin said. “That kind of rejection and cruelty marks a child.”
“It certainly seems to have marked Eden,” I said. “But if Devi hadn’t rescued her, it would have been worse.”
“And now Devi’s the one who needs to be rescued,” Kevin said.
“Do you really think her situation is that dire?”
“I don’t know,” Kevin said. “All I know is that Devi is a fine person, and I care about her.”
I was taken aback. In the years that I’d known him, there’d never been a woman or, for that matter, a man in his life. Kevin had also been a loner, and happily so. “Are you and Devi in a relationship?”
“Not a romance,” Kevin said, “but since Christmas there has been a relationship. Until last month, Devi and I were simply two people who lived in the same building. We were cordial but we kept our distance.”
