My Former Self (4 page)

I ask Jeremy if he can pick up Amanda and drop us off at Pete’s place, to which he agrees. Jeremy and I have always gotten along really well, even though there are five and a half years between us. I can tell him anything, and I know that I can trust him not to say anything to our parents. We often talk about what is going on in our lives. He knows that I like Greg, and he even knows that we were together that
one night. I don’t go into details, but he knows stuff like that about me. He is dating a girl from university. Her name is Sarah. I haven’t met her, but he says she is really smart and pretty. She is in a social work program at the university and lives with two guys and two girls. I have asked him whether it bothers him that she lives with other guys, but he said these aren’t the kinds of guys he’d be worried about, whatever that means.

“Come on. Are you ready? I have to meet up with Josh at the Arms,” Jeremy tells me. Josh is Jeremy’s high-school friend. They hang out with each other when they’re home from university, but don’t really speak at all when they’re away. He says that is the sign of a true friendship—that you can go without talking for months and just pick up where you left off when you see each other again. I think Kaitlyn, Amanda, and I would have the same thing, although none of us wants to try going that long without talking. The Arms is a pub downtown. It’s not much to look at, and to me it seems to be a very boring place to go out. Jeremy says it’s a good place to “shoot the shit.”

“Yeah, lemme grab my bag. Do you have a tape or should I bring my Van Halen?”

“No. I’m driving. My music.” I know exactly what that means—Judas Priest. Great. I’d better not complain; he is driving me, after all.

By the time we arrive at Amanda’s, she is sitting outside on her front step. She looks great. I have always been a little jealous of how pretty she is, how she looks good in anything, how the boys always look at her. I have never told anyone that, though.

“Hey, you ready?” I ask her.

“Yep. I’m excited.” She pronounces excited with an English accent, as though to emphasize how excited she really is. “Hey, Jeremy.”

“Hi. Is your sister back for the summer?” Jeremy knows Trish from school. She’s a year older than he, but everyone in school knew Trish Steele. She was the most popular girl in her grade, and probably the envy of every other girl. Guys wanted to date her and girls wanted to be her. That is, until her twelfth year. She was the centre of a scandal in our small town. She was caught kissing—and who knows what else—with the math teacher. He was a new teacher. I think it was only his first or second year at the school. He was really good-looking and all of the girls had crushes on him. Anyway, after it came out, her parents wanted to press charges, as much as she protested. He left the school shortly thereafter. No one knew what happened to him—whether he was fired or quit. She was perceived very differently after that; girls no longer wanted to be like her. She graduated the following year and moved out east for university. Amanda told me it was because she wanted to go
somewhere where no one knew about her past. Now she comes back for a part of the summer, but not too long, in case she might see people from high school.

“She just got back last week and she’ll be here for about another week.”

“That’s good. Does she like Nova Scotia?”

“She loves it there. She just got a part-time job at the pub in the university, which is why she has to go back next week.”

“That’s good. Tell her I say hi.” They were never friends but they know we are, so they always ask about one another.

“Yeah, I will. Ton, do you think Dan’s gonna be there tonight?” She switches the subject, which is something she is used to doing when the topic of her sister comes up. Dan is a guy in twelfth grade who Amanda is interested in. He is athletic, smart, and popular, but I think he is really unattractive. I am not sure what she sees in him, or why he is so popular. He is kinda a jerk with girls, too, I’ve heard. He dates them just long enough to have sex with them, and then he dumps them. I worry that Amanda will be his next conquest. And the thing is she can do so much better. I am sure she could have any one of the guys in our grade, but for some reason she’s got her sights on this one.

“I don’t know. Is he still with Cassie?” I ask it knowing full well that he is no longer dating his most recent victim. Maybe the very mention of her name will remind Amanda how he treats his girlfriends. Unlikely.

“No, they broke up,” she says with a seductive smile.

We pull up to Pete’s house and there are people smoking on the front porch and the music is blaring; luckily I didn’t get one of my parents to drop us off. I thank Jeremy, and we’re out the door. Jeremy rolls down the window.

“Hey guys, will you need me to pick you up tonight?”

“Naah, we’re staying overnight at Kaitlyn’s and we’ll find a ride there later. Thanks, though. See you tomorrow.”

Amanda and I make our way in to find our group of friends. We see them and begin mixing our drinks: orange juice and peach schnapps. We see Dan talking to a girl in his grade, a girl my mom would refer to as “loose.” I can see that it bothers Amanda, because she downs her drink and repeatedly looks over at them.

Kaitlyn comes in and walks over to us, and it’s immediately clear that she is upset.

“Kait, is something wrong?”

“I had a fight with my mom. She’s always on my case. Her new boyfriend, Adam, was there and I think she was trying to impress him or something. She was going on about being ‘an active member of the family’. What a joke! She’s the one who’s rarely there.”

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?” I am not really sure how to comfort her, other than just being there and listening.

“Not really. It just frustrates me, that’s all. Anyway, let’s just have fun tonight, okay?”

“Deal.”

By eleven o’clock we are nearly done our stash of booze and need to bum off of our friends. This night is going to be messy.

Fall 2010

I
can feel the tears welling up inside of me. I don’t know when that started, but anytime I get mad now, I feel like crying. It is very annoying knowing that if I address how I am feeling with Dr. Roerke, I will turn into a blubbering mess—definitely not something I am going to allow myself to do. It’s just better to keep it inside: a lesson I learned many years ago.

“Tonya, why didn’t you smile at him or something? I think you scared him off!” Cindy has evidently joined Dr. Roerke’s crusade to find me a boyfriend.

“Guys! I’m seeing someone. I really don’t need any help.” This lie is getting old; I wonder if anyone actually
believes it. I never bring anyone to functions, I never receive personal phone calls like Cindy does, and I definitely don’t talk about anyone. Maybe I’ll have to start if I want them to believe me.

I go to the washroom to compose myself, and as I do, I see Patrick speaking with Deb. It is not unusual to see someone in this office talking to someone else, but there is just something about the way they are being so secretive. I can’t really make out what is being said but I do hear Deb say, “I had no idea. When did you find out?” Then they notice me and stop whispering. Patrick moves back towards the front desk.

Before the end of the day I get an e-mail from my sister, who is in town for the weekend. She has just arrived and asks me if she should pick anything up for supper. She comes up usually once a year and I go to see her in Montreal two or three times a year. It’s easier for me to go there because I don’t have a family. She is recently divorced and has a five-year-old. I tell her that I’ll be there shortly so we can decide on dinner. I usually finish early on Fridays and Patrick stays until closing. After the Aaron incident, I am more than ready to get out of there. I make sure Dr. Roerke is all right with me heading out, seeing as my sister’s here.

“Go have fun with your sister. Maybe she’ll have more luck finding you a stand-up guy!” he laughs.

I pack up my things and wish everyone a nice weekend. Once I leave the office, I feel my muscles relax and realize that I must have been tense all afternoon. As I walk to the bus stop, I am unable to stop the deluge of tears that were locked up inside of me earlier.

“Hey, Sandy!” I walk in, thrilled to see my sister.

“Hello, Ton.” She comes to the door and gives me a big hug.

We catch up on all of the little things we haven’t discussed since the last time we spoke, which is about three months ago. I am not much of a phone person, and I never get on the computer once I am home from work. We talk about Dale, her ex, who she found out was having an affair with a woman from work. Vivian is her name and Sandy pronounces it in a way that illustrates her dislike of the woman. Dale teaches seventh grade, and Vivian is a guidance counsellor at the same school. Dale moved into her place after he left Sandy and she says they are still together. Their daughter, Anna, is the spitting image of Sandra and goes between homes from week to week. I don’t see her much, which is a shame; she is a great kid. She’s funny, just like her mom was when she was younger.

Sandy went to college to become an educational assistant. She met Dale at the first school she worked
in before she got moved to a high school just outside of Montreal. They only dated for about six months before they announced they were getting married. I never really liked Dale. He seemed so arrogant to me, but of course, I never said anything. I saw why she was attracted to him—he was very good-looking, with dark wavy hair and dark eyes. He cared a great deal about being in shape, which was obvious, especially when he wore tight-fitting T-shirts. He often had an unshaven face, which gave me the impression that he carefully manipulated this scruffy look. He wore name-brand clothes and shoes and was always up-to-date with the latest fashion trends, although he’d act like he didn’t really care about any of that stuff. When she found out he was cheating—although she’d had her suspicions for a while—Sandy was devastated. She said he was the only man she had ever loved. She worried about Anna, knowing that kids from broken homes tend to have more difficulties in school. That was just over a year ago and she is still heartbroken over the whole ordeal.

“How’s Anna?” I ask.

“She’s awesome—such a mature little girl. She just started first grade, and she’s adjusting well. I’m not crazy about her being with Vivian every other weekend, but there is not much I can do about that.”

“Do you ever see her or talk to her?”

“No, not often. Dale makes sure he comes alone when he picks up Anna. There was this one time about a month ago, though, I couldn’t hold my tongue. She brought her to see a Robin Hood movie that was definitely not appropriate for a five-year-old. This was the third time she’s brought her to a non-G-rated movie. Anna was so frightened at night that she had to sleep with me. I e-mailed Vivian the next day and Dale called me within a few hours. He said if I had any problems to go through him, because Vivian was ‘pretty distressed’ by my words. Whatever, she’s a whore, anyway.”

“It must be hard having to deal with another person raising your child.”

“You have no idea.”

I really don’t.

We end up ordering in a pizza and decide we’ll go out tomorrow instead. We stay up until midnight talking.

She talks a great deal about Dale and it’s obvious that she’s not over him. “You know what I miss most? It’s going to sound trivial to you, I’m sure, but it was our breakfasts together as a family on the weekends. We’d go to the bagel shop down the street and just sit, talk, drink our coffee, and enjoy Anna’s company. I still get sad when I see that place.”

“I don’t think it sounds trivial; it makes perfect sense that you’d miss the little things. You were a happy family, and now you’re not. It must be tough.” I’m not sure if my comments help her or make her feel worse. I decide to just be there for her and listen. And, besides, who am I to comment on the topic of serious relationships?

We wake up on Saturday and go to the market to buy fresh vegetables for lunch. We go for a coffee and then play tennis in the afternoon. It’s so nice and easy being with Sandy. I wish we lived closer. I know I could make more of an effort to see my sister, but time has a way of passing by so quickly. And the excuses I make appear so credible at the time, but seem so weak and insignificant when I look back on them. I think of my sister often and regret that we’re not closer.