White Girl Problems (9 page)

He stopped in front of a small shop. “Run inside and get a pastry, the finest German-baked goods this side of the Atlantic. We have a ton of German settlers here on this coast.”

“You want anything?”

He shook his head. “No. My missus is making kidney pie for dinner. Can’t spoil it.”

I wrinkled my nose and looked at the store. My frown never improved. It didn’t look like much—maybe food poisoning later—but I ignored my doubts and went inside. The moment I was inside, I knew he was right. The smell was insanely good. The old lady behind the glass counter gave me a scowl. “You vant pastry?” She had a thick accent.

I almost laughed, but I fought it. That’s what he meant. I nodded and pointed at the display. “Can I have an apple strudel and a tart?”

She nodded, boxed the goods, and took my money. She kept my change and looked at the door for me to leave. I picked the two small boxes up off the counter and walked out, backwards and maintaining eye contact. She never moved, just stared at me.

When I got back outside, I gave the driver a look. “Dude, what was that?”

He grinned. “Like the Soup Nazi on
Seinfeld
, huh?”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I nodded. ”She’s interesting.”

“She’s worth it.” He drove and I ate. I was nearly sick I was so stuffed when I finished, but they were just as Aiden had said—the best. I was ready for a nap by the time we got back to the road where it had all started.

I smiled at Simon. “Thank you for the tour.”

He winked. “Very pleased to meet you, Miss Finley.”

I left him and strolled along the street filled with the smell coming from the restaurants. When I got back, the driver smiled. “We have one place to go before we can leave.”

I sighed. “I’m kind of tired.”

He winked. “You won’t want to miss this, and I was paid to bring you there.”

I followed him along a pier, weaving our way through hordes of people with cameras and bad shorts, to a bunch of ships. They looked like Pirates of the Caribbean. I wondered if the movie had been filmed on any of them. He walked to a really old-looking one and smiled, passing me something. It was a coin, a Canadian coin.

“This is the ship on the dime. The Bluenose. It’s actually a replica because the original ship was lost. She was wrecked on a reef, and the government didn’t care that she was the fastest ship in the world or that she was a worldwide and Canadian icon. They just let her die out here on the reef. She was salvageable, but they said it was too much money. So they built an exact replica of her—this one. The Bluenose II. She is a beauty though.”

I nodded. “Cool.”

He laughed. “Okay, let’s go do the thing we came for so we can get going. Did you get the tart? I always get the tart. She’s a strange broad, but she can bake.”

“Yeah. It was amazing. She is super weird though.” I traipsed along behind him, back to the shop-lined street. He walked into an old-looking store with a thick wooden door. When he opened it, the bell rang, like the church bells almost, but tiny. I looked up and scowled. It was an antique store.

Why was I being brought to a stinky old antique shop?

When I followed him inside, the shop owner passed the driver a bag. He handed it to me. “This is for you.”

I opened the paper bag to find a ring box. I looked at the driver. “What is this?” I didn't know what to say.

He smiled. “The young man wanted you to have it.”

I looked at the costume jewelry and knew it wasn’t such a big deal. It was junk jewelry. It felt weird getting a ring box from a boy, even Aiden, who was already sort of weird.

I opened it to find a white-gold setting with a red stone in the middle and clear stones all around it. The red stone was a large oval. A smile slipped across my lips, regardless of the pounding of my heart.

It was NOT what I was expecting. It was beautiful, even for costume jewelry. And even if it was a fake piece, it was fun to have a boy buy me a piece of antique jewelry. He had sent me on a mission to find it. He had arranged the entire day for me. I looked in the bottom of the box and smiled wider. There was a note that said:

Better than Instagram for remembering the day, I wager!

I could easily fall in love with him.

I pulled out the ring and glanced at the man who owned the shop. “Is it real?”

He smiled. “It’s real to him.”

I beamed back as I slipped it on my right hand, as far away from the important ring finger as I could. “It’s so pretty. It looks real, the way it sparkles.” It was the perfect size. Aiden was a master gift giver. If we ever did end up dating, I would never be able to keep up. “Thank you.”

The shop owner bowed slightly. “Milady.”

It was weird—Canadians were so weird. But I liked it. I followed the driver back, staring at my hand. I couldn’t stop. It was a fascinating thing to see a ring that was bought for you on your finger.

“So you and the young man are in love?”

I laughed. “I hardly know him.”

He got the door for me. “But do you love him?”

I couldn’t say either way so I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know him that well. We’ve known each other for like six weeks.”

He shrugged. “I knew the moment I met my wife. She was standing in a line in Halifax for coffee. She got to the till and realized she had no cash. I paid for her coffee, and the rest is history.”

I ran my fingers over the sharp edges of the white crystals and smiled. “I have been hearing that a lot lately. People don’t do that anymore though.”

He scoffed. “It’s a shame. Everyone puts so much energy into meeting the right one. They try too hard for perfection and end up with their version of the right person but for all the wrong reasons. Or even worse, they end up being single for too long.”

I didn’t have an argument for that. I didn’t know anyone back home who was in love. There on the east coast of Canada, amongst strangers, I knew so many people who were in love.

He gave me a look in the rearview. “You look an awful lot like my niece, Joan. She’s a cheerleader. You must be a cheerleader too.”

My smile faded. “What? Why?”

He shrugged. “You just have that look about ya. Shiny hair and pouty lips and all. Joan is the same. She’s always got shiny hair and perfect makeup and her eyebrows always look like yours, like she’s surprised about something.”

I didn’t know how to take that so I just shrugged. “Yeah, young girls all look the same. We have the same standards. They’re called Victoria’s Secret models.”

He nodded. “That’s pretty true. You teenagers all look the same.”

I didn’t like the fact he was right. There was nothing different about us. We all took a million selfies. We all dressed hipster and pretended it was just how we dressed, but it wasn’t. We all obsessed about social media and everything. The six-week break from it had been refreshing in a weird way. I felt free. It didn’t rule me. I didn’t care where everyone was going or who was dating. I didn’t care about any of it. I was in a town in the middle of nowhere seeing something I couldn't imagine not having seen. What if I hadn’t met Aiden? I would have gone my whole life and never seen any of it.

Instead of caring about all the crap I did before, I cared about the red-and-white ring on my finger and the cute boy who had my heart. The way he looked at me through his lashes and the way he smiled were the things I obsessed about. It took up all the room. There was no room for drama or petty things.

A few days later, I was siting with the mean old ladies, playing cards and drinking something they called a Tom Collins. A man showed up, hand delivering a letter.

Finley,

I trust the last trip was exciting. The day this letter reaches you, a car will arrive at Hattie’s. Dress nicely. The place you are going is a bit fancy. I wish I could be there to see your reaction to it all.

Yours,

A

I didn't really know what to say, but a bright smile pasted itself across my lips.

“From Aiden?”

I looked up to see Marbles giving me a crooked smile. I nodded. She shook her head. “You are done for, my dear. That boy has you wrapped right up.”

Hanna folded her arms across her chest. “Yes. I never saw you as a ‘get married right out of high school’ sort of girl, but I guess I was wrong.”

My smile faded away. “No. No way. He’s like hot and stuff, and obviously the whole sending me on random day trips is kinda awesome, but no way. He’s an English dude I met in Canada. That instantly says no hope for a future. Besides, I don't want that. I just wanna have fun.”

I didn't say anything about my mother doing the whole pregnant at nineteen and hating her life. No matter what, that wasn't going to be me.

Sarah gave me a smirk. “We’ll see.”

I sucked back my drink and got up. “You are some hateful old women.”

They cackled and I waved as I walked away.

Sure enough, the car was at Hattie’s by five p.m. I was in a summer dress she had gotten me and some sandals of hers. She had never worn them. They still felt used to me though. I hated that feeling. The smell of used things made me want to gag.

I ran my fingers through my hair and took a long look. I seemed different, less stressed maybe.

Life without Sheila was like going macrobiotic. My whole body was feeling better than it ever had.

I strolled out into the foyer, getting an approving nod from Hattie. Even Peaches seemed to dig the dress. “Where are you going?”

I shrugged. “I don't know. You sure you don't want to come?”

She scoffed. “Not a chance.”

I walked out to the driveway as the car pulled in. The same man who had driven me before was there. He smiled as he hopped out and got the door. “Hello again.”

The drive over was nice. I finally got to see the city. “This is Cole Harbor. It's the start of the city.” It wasn't very nice. The area seemed poor. He drove into an old part with crappy houses and kinda ghetto stores. “This is Dartmouth.”

I wrinkled my nose until he looked back. “I live in here.”

I smiled. “It’s cool. Lots of old houses.”

He laughed. “It’s the dumpy part of town.” We crossed a bridge and suddenly I started to see it. He drove us into the heart of Halifax. The streets were narrow and the buildings felt like they were on top of you. The view of the ocean surrounding the harbor city was stunning. The whole thing was a mix of old and new. He pulled up into a graveyard. I looked down at my dress and scowled.

He parked and got the door. An old man walked up to me. He looked like he might be Hattie’s age. “You must be Finley Roze.”

I nodded. “I am.”

He took my hand in his. “I am Albert Bingley. I used to be a caretaker here.” He offered me his arm. I took it and we walked past headstones that were crazy old. I leaned in, checking to be sure the dates were correct. “Holy snap, these are old.”

“Yes, Halifax has been around for hundreds of years. The graveyards here are unique to other places though.”

I felt my stomach twist. “Look, Albert. I’m sure you were paid to take me on some haunted tour, but I don't like scary stuff.”

He smiled and patted my arm. “Fear not, we aren’t taking a haunted tour. This isn’t even the haunted graveyard.”

“Okay.” I didn't feel better about it.

He walked me to a large group of headstones that were all identical and pointed. “These are the Titanic victims.”

My jaw dropped. “What? In the Leonardo movie, they were in like icebergs. Does Canada have icebergs?”

He laughed. “Not near here. The victims were brought here because it was the closest place. Although the way the tides work, a lot were brought to us, washed up on shore.”

He let me go and I walked amongst the graves, reading the markers. Unknown was a common name, but I was surprised at the vast numbers of people who were identified. There were children amongst the headstones with names. Some had engravings, like for the crew of the ship who went down with her. My nose started to tingle and my throat got a lump. Rows and rows of headstones, all people who were never properly buried by their families. The little kids were the hardest.

“Ships from here were the retrieval boats. Only a third of the victims were ever found. Over a thousand still out there, buried at sea.”

There was one headstone that ruined my chances of a tear-free evening. It was one for a woman, with the names of her four children listed below hers.

I didn't know why he wanted me to see it and I wasn’t sure I liked that I had. But it felt like him. His crazy intense way of experiencing things matched the overwhelming feeling of being there. It was like he was holding my hand and standing next to me.

I turned to Albert. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Here you are.” He handed me a letter and offered me his arm. I took both.

“So where are you from?”

“Out west. Spokane.”

He nodded. “I don't know the area well. I have been to California, but that's it.” When we got to the car, he nodded, “Enjoy the remainder of your evening, Miss Roze.”

“Thank you for showing me that.”

He nodded. “Of course.” He turned and walked off, like he was a ghost of the graveyard. I got into the car and opened the letter. I was so full of emotion I was almost angry with Aiden, but his letter made me smile.

My dearest Finley,

I hope you are not too angry I made you come here. I feel as though it is our duty as the living to pay respect to the dead. You cannot come to Halifax and not see the great Titanic graveyard. They deserve the homage of it.

I miss you and I can’t wait to be back. Enjoy the remainder of the evening.

Yours,

A

As much as I almost hated the experience, he was right. The driver took me back into the heart of the city, parking outside of something that looked like a pub. He got the door, and when I got out, he winked. “Be back in a couple hours.”

I walked up to the restaurant, noting the name Five Fishermen. It was odd. When I got inside, it had a trendy feel to it. A hot guy walked up. “Good evening, do you have a reservation?”

I nodded. “I bet I do. Finley Roze?”

He smiled wide. “Of course you do. It’s my pleasure, Miss Roze. Your party is already waiting.”