Her Mother's Daughter (36 page)

Bobby was in his pyjama bottoms lying on his side of the bed, reading a book. He laid it down on the mattress. “What do you mean?”

Bay sat on the bed. “I mean that I never see her anymore.”

“Well, we're married. It's different now.”

“Why should it be different? She only lives a few minutes away. I miss her.”

Bay got up and went back into the bathroom. She rinsed her mouth out with water and spat in the sink. After turning off the bathroom light, she crawled into bed beside Bobby. He moved the book aside and put his arms around her.

“When we were little, Tansy and I used to pretend that our fort down in the woods behind the house was a castle. I loved playing with her. She made everything seem magic, even though she was always the princess and I was always the humble servant.”

“That doesn't seem fair.”

“I didn't mind. I never wanted to be the princess. Tansy was always wailing in the tower about how the prince would never find her. It was more fun to be down in the dirt, pretending to make a magic potion in one of the old pots Mom let us use.”

Bobby didn't say anything.

“And whenever we played together Tansy would think of the most outrageous stuff, like the time she put string nooses around our Barbie and Ken dolls and hung them on Flo's clothesline. You should've heard Flo screech. She got in trouble for that one.”

“Did she?”

“Yes, but Tansy didn't mean any harm. She's got this wonderful imagination. I've always wanted to be like her. I'm so glad she's my sister. I just wish I could spend more time with her.”

Bobby hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head before whispering, “I'm sorry.”

She put her hand on his cheek. “Silly boy, it's not your fault.”

“I love you so much, Bay,” his voice cracked. “You're the sweetest girl in the world.”

Bay looked at him. “What's wrong?”

“I'm just…”

“What?”

“Don't ever leave me, Bay. Don't ever leave me.”

“I'd never leave you. You're my heart.”

She kissed him then and everything was all right.

It was the last day of lobster season, July fifteenth, and as luck would have it, it was a miserable day, with high winds and a big sea. The race was on to get as many traps as possible out of the water before the deadline. The fishermen of Louisbourg had been hard at it since four in the morning and by late afternoon they were weary, but all pushed themselves, knowing that the season was almost over. It had been a good one, with prices that were pretty decent. It had been worth the effort.

Bay was over at her mother's to use her sewing machine. She wanted to repair a couple of Bobby's overalls, but the seams were so thick she had a hard time manoeuvring them underneath the sewing needle.

Tansy was upstairs in her room, sleeping. That was all she did these days. Liz was sure she had mono but so far Tansy had refused to go to a doctor. She said they couldn't do anything about mono anyway so there was no point.

Bay gave up on the sewing machine and decided it would be easier to fix the overalls by hand. She grabbed the sewing basket and went out into the kitchen. Her mother stood by the window looking out. She held her arms, as if she was cold. She was so still it spooked Bay for a moment.

“What's wrong?”

“I don't know. I have a funny feeling.”

“What do you mean?”

Liz went to the back door and pushed it open. She walked by the garden and over to the edge of the field. She stopped then and stared out at the water, as if she were searching for someone. Bay's mouth went dry. She ran outside and hurried over to her mother.

“You're making me nervous.”

Her mother didn't answer.

Flo ran out of her house. “Liz!”

Liz turned around.

“There's something on the scanner. Men saying something's happened out on the water. Now it's probably nothing, but they mentioned
Tansy Bay
.”

Liz began to run.

“Mommy, what is it? What's happened?”

Bay went after her mom but she couldn't catch her. Her mother ran down the street, her sweater flapping behind her. Bay stumbled as she tried to keep up. She had a hard time breathing. There was a sharp pain in her throat and she couldn't hear anything except a roaring in her ears.

There were other people running towards the wharf. Bay fell as she ran, but she didn't know she'd fallen. The blood on her scraped knees wasn't real, no more real than the people who shouted at her with no sound coming out of their mouths.

She couldn't see her mother anymore. She had to get to her mother. But two women tried to grab her and make her stop. She wrestled with them to let her go. Then two more tried to hold onto her, but Bay kicked her legs and tried to pry their hands from her body, just like she did with Bobby.

Bobby.

She broke free and ran and ran and ran. And then she stopped.

Her mother knelt over her father and Bobby was asleep beside them. Oh. That's good. Bobby's asleep. Then he won't have to be worried when he finds out that something's wrong with Dad.

There were people all around but this time they left her alone. They backed up when she walked over to her husband. She knelt on her bloody knees and touched his beautiful face. He was sleeping. He'd wake up and take her in his arms and smother her with kisses just like he had at three that morning.

And then there was nothing but sound.

People crying, screaming, and shouting. An ambulance siren. Men kneeling by her mother in tears.

“His boot got caught in the line and he went over the side. The young fella tried to save him. We almost got to them. We almost did. But they were tangled in the rope. There was nothin' we could do.”

Bay looked up and saw Tansy standing on the wharf, Flo behind her.

They looked at each other.

That's when Tansy fainted.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was hot and dry that September.

When Bay took bouquets of wildflowers to Bobby's grave, she always took a plastic container of water with her and filled the vase to the brim, and every day she'd go back and the vase would be almost dry. It was hard to imagine that all that water evaporated in twenty-four hours, so she liked to think that maybe a rabbit or a deer stopped by and had a drink; sometimes the flowers looked like something had taken a few bites out of them. She knew Bobby would get a kick out of that. It made her feel better to know that a creature kept him company through the starry nights.

She divided her time between Bobby and her dad. She didn't like to give too much attention to one and not the other. She and her mother would go, but her mother never stayed as long as Bay needed to, so they agreed it would be best to visit their men alone.

Tansy never went.

Bay gave up the apartment, of course. Gertie was the one who saved her life on that score, doing most of the work herself. Every time Bay put something in a box, she'd tell Gertie the story behind it and inevitably break down and cry when she closed the lid.

She gave Bobby's barbeque to his uncle. He objected at first, but Bay insisted. It would make her happy, she said. And it did; every time she drove by his uncle's place, she saw him sitting by the barbeque as he cooked his solitary meals.

Bay was back in her old bedroom, but it didn't feel the same. Although she'd only shared a double bed with Bobby for three months, it was long enough to feel as if she'd been amputated in some way when she lay down at night on her childhood bed.

Nothing felt right at home. It was quiet now, with none of the delicious aroma of Mom's cooking permeating every room. Their mom spent most of her time out on the garden swing looking out over the water. People were kind enough to make meals for them. There was always a casserole left on the kitchen table.

Most of the time they didn't eat together. Mom sat in front of the tv in the living room holding a plate in her hand. Tansy was usually in her room with her small tv on. Bay spent a lot of meals with Gertie. They liked it when Gertie came over because she was the only one with enough energy to talk, and when she talked that meant the Gillis women didn't have to expend any energy talking themselves.

Mom's cousin called and asked if she and the girls would like to come and visit, to get away from everything for a while, but their mother declined. It was too much effort to put one foot in front of the other, let alone pack a suitcase and drive to Fredericton.

But Bay often wondered how they would fill every day for the rest of their lives. All she saw stretched in front of her was a vast yawning emptiness. At least she got to sit with Bobby every day. At least she had that.

Even in the fog of misery that Liz lived in day after day, she slowly became aware that there was something wrong with Tansy, above and beyond the loss of her father and brother-in-law. Her good friend Joan confirmed it when she mentioned Tansy the day she brought over sweet-and-sour meatballs.

“I saw her at the drugstore and I nearly died. She looks terrible, Liz. She's like a stick and she was bundled up as if she was freezing to death. I don't care what she says. You should take her to a doctor, because mono is nothing to sneeze at. It can affect your spleen, you know.”

Liz thanked her. When Joan left, Liz walked upstairs and knocked on Tansy's door. There was no answer. She was sure she was in there. “Tansy?”

She heard a muffled “What?”

Liz opened the door and saw that she was napping. She walked over and sat on Tansy's bed. Joan was right, the child looked ill.

“Tansy, this isn't right. You're spending your whole life in this bed.”

Tansy didn't answer her.

“You're seeing a doctor.”

Liz reached out and felt her forehead and her glands. “I'll get to the bottom of this.”

When she left, Tansy curled up in a fetal position. There was nothing she could do about it now. It was over.

Because their regular doctor was on vacation, Liz took Tansy to an evening clinic. They sat and waited for almost two hours. Tansy didn't say a word the entire time. It was as if she'd left and only her body sat beside her mother.