Winter Shadows (29 page)

Our congregation always sits quietly. Robert is not an inspiring speaker, but at least he doesn’t bounce on his heels and shout like Bishop Gaskell did. Both choirs did me proud, and, on the way home, I hummed my favorite Christmas song under my breath. Soon the others sang the words, and even Duncan joined in on the seventh verse with great gusto:

Duncan said, “This is a bit of good advice, don’t you agree, Mother? We have been fortunate to find each other
again, and now you are married to a better man than ever could be found on earth! So let’s put old grudges in the pot and lay aside all sorrows for one day!”

What old grudges? Was he referring to me and Ivy? Or himself and Ivy?

Ivy nodded, then turned toward my father. He put one arm around her waist and began to sing “O Holy Night.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. The rest of us joined Papa, as Tupper and our ancient horse, Baxter, pulled us homeward through the cold winter night. For the first time in a long while, the shadows floated away, into the starry sky
.

M
artin tried to leave me at the door, but I dragged him inside. The kitchen was empty, but we heard voices down the hall. I decided bold was best, so I left him there with instructions, in case I needed a quick getaway, and walked straight to the living room. The blue lights on the powdery white tree winked smugly at me.
Did I really expect that monstrosity to be gone as a kind of peace offering?
Daisy waved. She looked so different with that cap of dark hair and the slim new glasses. I knew then my decision wasn’t just about getting even with Jean.

Dad opened his mouth, but Jean touched his arm and said, “Sit down, Cassandra.”

I was standing close to a chair. I sat on the arm, ready to take off. Jean cleared her throat. “When I saw Daisy, I was shocked, as you can imagine. I assumed it was done deliberately to hurt me. But Daisy assures me it was a gift from you and Jonathan and that this
gift
had been decided beforehand.”

Dad and Daisy looked as if they had never told a fib in their lives.…

“So,” she continued, “I feel it’s better to light a candle than to curse the darkness. Therefore, I am going to –”

“Am I the darkness?” I interrupted, my voice tight.

“Cass …,” Dad warned.

“No. I want to know. Do you see me as the darkness?”

“Cass!”

“No, no, Jonathan, I think that’s a fair question,” Jean said. “Of course, you aren’t the darkness, Cassan …” she glanced at Dad “ … Cass. I meant that in this instance, I prefer to take the high road after last night’s fiasco. I would like to have been consulted about this … uh … 
gift
to Daisy, but after hearing her explanation, I don’t believe much harm has been done.” She gave Daisy a small smile. “But you must realize, Cass, that Daisy is my daughter, and I need to know beforehand when things like this are done.”

I shrugged, examining the hole in the toe of my brown sock.

Her voice grew hard. “You know, that shrug tells me you aren’t really taking in what I am saying. And to get back to last night, it was embarrassing, to say the least. I had something exciting to tell everyone and you –”

I buttoned my jacket. I’d heard enough.

“Jean,” Dad said, “you’re okay with Daisy’s early Christmas present, so let’s leave it at that. We should have told Cass in private about the baby. She was shocked by the news. As was I. She knows that her mom and I tried for a second child, but …”

I lost it then. “Mom’s name was Fiona! Why do you never say it in front of her? There isn’t even
one
picture of Mom up in this house. Why is that, Dad?”

“Because things have changed, Cass. Accept it, honey.”

I shouted, “Accept what? That our life before Jean means nothing? Accept that because Mom doesn’t exist anymore in your life, I can’t have her in mine? Accept that you can’t even say her name for fear of hurting Jean? That everything Mom loved – our photo albums, her books, our Christmas stuff – are packed away somewhere in the barn? I had to put most of her antiques in Aunt Blair’s basement just to keep them from being thrown out!”

“Cass. Stop!”

I pointed at Jean. “You’ve let her throw Mom away! Don’t you get it, Dad? And soon she’ll have your baby to coo over, and Mom will be pushed even farther back! Look at that fake tree. It’s hideous. Everything in this house is Jean – there’s no US here anymore, Dad!” My nose were running. I used my jacket sleeve to wipe it.

Daisy ran at the tree and, with a swing of her arm, knocked it sideways. It bounced right back, while plastic blue and silver bobbles bounced across the floor. The lights kept on blinking.

“I hate this stupid tree, Mom! I told you to wait for Cass! I told you she was nicer to me. Like a real sister. And, today, she did this great thing for me, and you just made it all stink again!” She grabbed one end of a branch and shook it hard. She looked like a mad little
squirrel trying to destroy a robot tree. It was so comical, I laughed.

“Daisy! Stop it! What are you
doing?”
Jean cried. She pointed at me. “You think this is funny? I’ve tried to be nice to you, Cassandra. I’ve bent over backwards to be nice … but all I get back is sarcasm and nasty asides. Look at the havoc you’re causing right now! I’ve had it up to here with you! You’re like this brick wall I keep banging my head against!”

Dad said, “Jean! Please! This is getting way out of –”

“Well, the head can take a break! The wall is leaving!” I shouted. “I’m going to live with Blair.” I ran out.

Daisy followed, hot on my heels. Martin must’ve heard because the truck was warmed up and ready to go.

“Daisy, go back in the house,” I said as she ran after me, struggling into Dad’s ski jacket. Snow sparkled around her, landing like crystals on her dark hair.

“No! I want to go with you. I can’t stand Mom anymore. I won’t go back!”

Dad opened the front door. “Daisy! Your mother says to get in here now!”

“I’m going with Cass!” She snuck under my arm, climbed into the truck, and fell into the backseat.

“Just go, Martin,” I said, as Dad slid down the front walk in his slippers.

“No. I won’t,” Martin replied firmly.

I glared at him, locked my door, and put on my seat belt.

Dad’s face hovered outside my window. I rolled it
down a few inches. Great puffs of vapor hung in the air as he spoke. “Come back. We’ll calm down and sort this out.” He was shivering.

“I’ve told Daisy to go back in, but I’m not coming. Not tonight, Dad. I can’t.” I was surprised to hear how calm I sounded.

“And I’m not going back in either!” Daisy said, her arms wrapped tightly around Dad’s huge jacket.

“I think you should, Daisy. This’ll only make your mom more angry at me,” I said.

“I don’t want her to be mad at you at all!”

“So go inside. Please?”

“Yes, Daisy, come inside. You’ve had enough, sweetie,” Dad said. “You can go to your room, watch TV, and I’ll bring you up something to eat. We’ll talk.”

She pushed out her lips to think. “Okay … but I’m not talking to Mom!”

“Not if you don’t want to. But you might want to,” Dad said.

“I won’t!”

“Fine. Look, Cass, I don’t like you running away like this all the time. Blair does not have the right to fill your head with stuff. You can’t live with her. She isn’t your …” He stopped.

“My mother? No, but she’s Mom’s twin sister. And she hasn’t filled my head with anything. It’s just too … toxic in your house, Dad. I can’t think.”

Martin spoke up. “Maybe let things cool for a day or so. If that’s okay, Mr. Cullen.”

Dad sighed. “Okay. One more night at Blair’s. Then we work this out, Cass. You’re not going to live away from me. I need you with me. We’re a family.”

He looked so upset, I almost gave in. But I said, “Whether I like it or not?”

“I want you to really think about what you just said to Jean and to me and consider carefully what you are going to say next. I don’t want her upset this badly again, Cass, with the baby and all.”

I looked him straight in the eye. “I
will
think about it. But, Dad, if Jean isn’t willing to let Mom come back into that house somehow, nothing is going to work between us. Or between me and you. You and Jean also have to talk.”

He swallowed hard. “You’re right. I’ve been hoping … yeah … okay. I’ll see you around lunchtime tomorrow. Come on, Daisy.”

As she crawled out from the seat behind me, she whispered, “He called me sweetie!”

I watched them walk to the house, Dad’s arm around her shoulders. “Well, there’s one thing more or less fixed. Daisy and Dad are in sync.”

“Thanks to you,” Martin said, putting the truck in gear.

“Yeah, but everything else is like Humpty Dumpty, isn’t it? Can’t put it together again.”

I looked back at the house. A small figure in a long dress and dark coat strode up the walkway, followed by other fluttery figures. I knew who it was. Like me, Beatrice
was busy messing up her life. It hurt to think she wasn’t somewhere on this frozen earth right now. I wanted to talk to her –
really
talk to her. I hated leaving that house.

The moon was high. Snowflakes sprinkled down, shining and flashing like tiny stars. The church lights were off, and Reverend Chancel’s car was gone. The long driveways of the new houses along the road were covered in freshly pressed tire tracks, the houses glowing with colored lights and winking wreaths.

“Every year, a week before Christmas, Mom, Dad, and I would go out after supper to see the city lights in Selkirk,” I said to Martin. “We’d drive slowly up and down the streets. Most houses were pretty sedate. We liked the crazy ones. Ours was always covered with Santa and Rudolph heads and big snowmen with lights inside. And Mom always put these crumbling red cellophane wreaths in every window, with an orange light in each one.…”

“Everything has changed for you,” Martin said. “It’s been really hard, I can see that.”

“But?”

“No buts, Cass. I have both parents. Nothing has changed for me. My dad is nuts about my mom. He always says a man should love his wife a little more than she loves him. I think it’s pretty equal in their case, but he’s the kind of guy who brings her tea in bed every morning, you know? They argue, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve had a great place to grow up in.”

“They don’t work in the restaurant? I haven’t met them yet.”

“No. They’ve been on holiday in Mexico. They go every year and leave the early Christmas rush to us. They’ll be back bullying everyone in a few days.” He grinned.

“So you’re an only child like me?”

“No, I have two brothers. Only a year apart. Both are at university in Winnipeg. They live in residence. They’ll be home a few days before Christmas.”

“I’m sorry, Martin.”

“For what?”

“I’ve been so focused on me, I’ve hardly got to know anything about you. I’m so selfish. I feel as if I’m ruining everything between us. I’ll understand if you just, you know, want to dump me after this.”

He pulled the truck over. The river was wide and white and shadowy blue, with dark cobalt stripes down its length from snowmobiles and skis. I leaned my forehead against the cold window. It was all so peaceful out there.
Why wasn’t I?

He tapped my shoulder. “Hey.” I looked at him. “I saw what you did for Daisy. I know it was partly to get back at Jean, but it was mostly for Daisy. You were great with her today. That’s building one bridge, anyway.”

He leaned over and kissed me. I undid my seat belt and slid closer. We sat, heads together, looking at the Red River.

“So I’m not dumped?”

I heard his soft laugh above my head. “No. I’m like my dad. He says when he met my mom, he knew a good
thing when he saw it. I see a good thing here, under all that sadness and anger.”

“Aunt Blair will be wondering what happened,” I said about ten minutes later.

Martin put the truck in gear. As I snapped my seat belt in place, I said, “I will take the bull by the horns tomorrow. Things can’t keep going like this.”

“Good idea. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life.”

“That which does not kill me will make me stronger,” I cried.

“Yes! Take the bull by the horns,” he shouted.

“Take my life in my own hands!” I yelled.

“Come hell or high water!”

“Come hell or high water, I’ll crack the code of Jean Dennett!”

“You’ll crack the nut!”

“I’ll crack the whip!”

We were both screeching with laughter by then.

“Hey! We’re cracking up!” I cried.

We sang a wildy varied “Jingle Bells” all the way back to Aunt Blair’s.