Relative Happiness Page 7

There was silence on the end of the phone. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Mother, she’ll break his heart.”

  Her mother started to cry. “Who cares about his heart? What about mine?”

  She didn’t say, “What about yours?”

  Susan left messages. Lexie didn’t call her back. Donalda did too. She ignored them. Finally Susan knocked on her door one night after work. She pushed past her and the frigid air came in with her.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s crap. You haven’t been to rehearsal. For that matter, neither has Adrian. Did you have a fight?” Sue pushed Sophie over and made herself comfortable on the old sofa facing the fire.

  Lexie sat on her floor pillow. “You can’t fight with someone who’s not here.”

  Susie’s voice rose. “What do you mean he’s not here? He’s got to be here. He helps me drag Donalda’s body off the stage in the final act. You know how my back goes out.”

  “Looks like you’ll be in traction then, doesn’t it?”

  She crossed her arms. “All right, spill the beans.”

  “He took off with my sister.”

  Susie’s mouth hung open. “He what?”

  Lexie nodded.

  She turned as white as a ghost. “Beth left Rory and her babies for Adrian?”

  “Not Beth, you idiot.”

  She put her hand over her heart. “Oh thank God.” Then she looked puzzled. “I thought Kate was gay?”

  “Not Kate, you idiot.”

  Susie couldn’t speak. Then she could.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Susan put her hand over her mouth then took it away to point her finger in Lexie’s face. “Let me get this straight. Your supermodel sister, who’s practically engaged to a filthy rich investment banker who lives in a penthouse condo and has a summer home in Florida, left town with a penniless wandering hobo?”

  Lexie burst into tears.

  Susan got down on the floor and put her arms around her. “I’m so sorry Lexie. I knew you were fond of him but I didn’t know you loved him.”

  “I don’t.”

  Her father dropped by the library one day and asked to take her to lunch. The older women simpered and giggled.

  “Ladies.” Dad tipped his hat as he escorted her out.

  They settled themselves down at a back table in the restaurant and ordered their usual—spinach salad and club soda. But it was hard to have a conversation. People would come up to the table and talk her dad’s ear off. Lexie got impatient, but he took it in stride.

  “So, Princess. I hear you’ve been dealt a tough blow.”

  She quickly said, “Only because I miss the rent money.”

  “Are you sure that’s all you’re upset about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you have feelings for this young man?”

  “No.”

  “I see.” He buttered his roll. “Well, whatever your relationship with him, I think he and Gabby behaved badly—to leave town and not tell anyone. Adrian should have given you notice. You were kind to him. And as for your sister’s behaviour towards Richard, I find it inexcusable.”

  She sighed and put down her fork. She didn’t feel like eating.

  “It’s not wrong to admit you like someone, Lexie. Even if they hurt you. It doesn’t make you look foolish. You can love someone who doesn’t love you back. That’s not a sign of weakness. You have a loving heart. It’s the most precious thing about you. I hate to see you feel badly about yourself, just because you are who you are.”

  She grabbed a napkin to stop the tears that rolled down her face. She wanted to be in his study, not in a stupid restaurant.

  He reached for her hand. “I’m ashamed of the way your sister behaved and I will tell her so, the first chance I get. But I’m very proud of you. Don’t ever forget that. You’re my Princess. You always will be.”

  Her dad read to them at night when she and her sisters were little. He’d gather them on the living room sofa and take out Little Women or Wind in the Willows and read a chapter at a time. The three younger ones burrowed close to him because they were small. Lexie usually ended up on the floor with her arms around his leg as she leaned on him. She’d close her eyes and listen to his voice.

  She’d wait for her father’s signal that was meant for her alone. He’d reach out and rub her hair for a moment or two. That was to tell her he loved her, down there on the floor. She thought her father was most like Matthew Cuthbert of Anne of Green Gables. She cried for hours the night they got to the part where Matthew died. She couldn’t bear it.

  Lexie went to her cousin Nancy’s house, to help with her daughter’s birthday party. Nancy said she didn’t want to suffer alone. Lexie asked Nancy why she always thought of her when misery was in the offing. Her excuse was that that she loved her.

  A gaggle of five year olds ran around the house with glee. Lexie brought Beth’s girls along so their mother could go to the hairdresser. She didn’t often have two hours to herself. Lexie’s Auntie Moo was there. It occurred to Lexie she didn’t know Moo’s real name—but it didn’t really matter. She’d never be known as anything else. Auntie Moo kissed her granddaughter, the birthday girl, every time she came within reach. Nancy left the kitchen to try and get the girls to listen while she explained the rules of Twister.

  It was soon evident that this was Auntie Moo’s opportunity to interrogate her. She sort of expected it, seeing as how her extended family was so nosy.

  They blew up balloons as they talked.

  “Are you all right sweetheart?”

  Lexie blew into stale rubber. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Auntie Moo blew too. “Don’t give me that. I know all about the roommate.”

  “Who told you?” she puffed.

  Her aunt stopped for a breather. “I forget. I’m an old lady.”

  “You’re not old.”

  “Wanna bet?” She continued. “Well, if you must know, your mother told Beth, who told Rory, who told John, who told Nancy, who told me.”

  “Great. Did we forget anyone? This is just what I need.”

  “Your mother’s very upset.”

  “Well, what else is new? She’s always upset about something that concerns me. She never leaves me alone.”

  “Your mother adores you. She’s always talks about you.”

  “I know. That’s the trouble. I wish she’d talk about someone else.”

  Auntie Moo gave her a stern look. “The day your mother stops talking Lexie, will be the loneliest day of your life. I want you to remember that. No one ever talks about you again the way your mother does. And you’ll miss that. Believe me. When my mother died, I’d have given anything to hear her voice just once more.”

  Lexie’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I know you’re right.”

  Auntie Moo took Kleenex from the sleeve of her sweater and wiped her own eyes. “I know I’m right too.”

  Nancy yelled from the living room. “Can one of you get in here? I’m so twisted I can’t move.”

  Chapter Five

  All that winter, Sophie and Lexie sat by the fire and thought of ways to make the house look better.

  “I think we need some new paint for this living room.”

  Sophie plunked on top of the fliers Lexie had spread out on the floor.

  “What colour do you think?”

  Sophie gave Lexie her I-could-care-less look and rolled on her back.

  “What about little white lights around the room?”

  The pussycat ignored her.

  Lexie poured over decorating magazines at the library and tried to figure out what style she wanted. She mentioned her plans to Judy, their administrator.

  Judy tried to be helpful. “I don’t imagine you want contemporary, Lexie. It wouldn’t say you.”

  Marlene was behind them filing. “Is there a style called ‘frump’?”

  Judy and Lexie ignored her. T
hey continued their musings at the counter while they flipped through the pages.

  “You’re the nearest thing to a hippie I’ve seen,” said Judy.

  Lexie looked at her. She wasn’t sure that was a compliment.

  “I mean that as a compliment. You know…you wear flamboyant flowing things, big scarves and skirts you’ve made yourself.”

  Marlene cracked her gum. “I can go out and buy a tablecloth too, but you won’t see me wearin’ it to work.”

  Lexie didn’t rise to the bait. She looked at Judy instead. “I thought I might try two colours for the living room. Eggplant and lime sherbet. Does that sound an odd combination to you?”

  Marlene said, “It sounds odd to me. Why don’t you throw your dinner plate against the wall and be done with it.”

  Lexie was about to lose her cool when Judy spun around on her heel and put her nose right in Marlene’s face.

  “You wouldn’t know style if it jumped up and bit your bony little ass!”

  Marlene looked stunned. Lexie sure was. Judy was a meek little woman who’d rather die than cause a scene. Her cheeks were flushed and she shook with fury as she grabbed her pen and beetled to the boardroom.

  “That one better get herself some hormones,” Marlene cracked. “Or a good screw.”

  Lexie stalked off.

  Murder by Mother was destined not to succeed. After seeing Adrian play the hero, it was a comedown to have Todd do it and naturally Donalda nagged Lexie incessantly about such a distressing turn of events.

  “How could you have been so stupid, to drive him out of town like that? If he’d stayed with me, we’d still have our leading man. We had such chemistry. He said so. He’d never had a kiss like mine, he said.”

  “If he stayed with you,” Lexie told her, “you’d be dead in the first act. He’d stab you long before I have to. Or he’d have stabbed himself, to prevent you from kissing him like a sex-starved maniac.”

  Susan tried to referee. “For heaven’s sake, will you two pipe down? The audience will hear you.”

  “Like I care,” Lexie growled. “Do you think there’s a Hollywood agent sitting out there in the dark? I can tell you for a fact, there’s only about fifty family members, and they’ve been dragged out by force or guilt.”

  Susan peeked out. “You’re right. God. I can’t wait for this to be over.”

  Lexie was horrible through the whole thing. The only time she became enthused was when she stabbed Donalda. Although she was supposed to be dead, Donalda shot filthy looks as Lexie rolled her up in the carpet.

  “Not so tight,” she grumbled.

  Lexie pretended she didn’t hear.

  Susie and Todd dragged Donalda off the stage as the lights dimmed. By the time they unrolled her, she was as red as a beet. She coughed, “Where is she? I’ll kill her.”

  Lexie had already left the theatre.

  Beth gave her a lift home.

  “You deserve an Academy Award for knocking off poor Donalda,” she said. “The music from Psycho played in my head.”

  Lexie’s hot water tank leaked one Sunday morning. She was in a dither about what to do, so she called Rory. Poor guy. As the only one in his immediate family who knew a thing about tools, he got stuck with his widowed mother’s repairs, his own and now Lexie’s.

  Rory was easygoing. How he ever managed to connect with Beth was a mystery.

  He carried his toolbox into the house. “What have you done now?”

  “God only knows. I hate stupid machine things.” Lexie followed him into the cellar. He poked around and did stuff. He told her what was wrong and how to fix it. She tried to pay attention but forgot everything by the time they went back upstairs.

  “You deserve a cup of tea and a nice piece of blueberry pie.”

  He sat at the table.

  She put a big slab on his plate, then brought over two mugs of tea and sat with him.

  “Oh, boy.” He wolfed down a huge bite. “I wish Beth baked like you.”

  She looked to the heavens. “For pity’s sake, don’t let her hear you say that.”

  “Why are you guys always worried about what Beth thinks?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He shovelled more pie in his gob. “No, I mean it. She’s an old softie.”

  “Stop talking with your mouth full.”

  He grinned and showed her his blue teeth.

  Lexie shrugged. “I suppose because she always screamed the loudest.”

  Rory finished the pie and drained his mug. “That was good.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin and sat back in his chair. Lexie loved to look at him. He was a doll. He gave her a little smile. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  She was intrigued. She and Rory never got a chance to talk together one on one. “Sure.”

  “Beth’s jealous of you.”

  Five seconds of silence went by.

  “Okay, don’t believe me.” He folded his arms on the table, quite unconcerned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she wishes she could be like you.”

  “But that’s not possible. Why would she be jealous of me?”

  “Because you’re artistic and you went to university and you’re independent.”

  “She shouldn’t feel like that. Look what she does. Raising a large family is a tremendous job.”

  “I tell her that but she doesn’t believe me.”

  Lexie couldn’t get over it. “Gosh. Beth always struck me as having supreme confidence.”

  “It’s an act. You’re creative. Gabby’s Gabby and Kate’s as smart as a whip. She feels like nothing.”

  “What do you tell her?”

  “She’s everything to me.”

  “She’s the luckiest girl in the world.”

  Susan came over to help Lexie paint the living room. She decided on eggplant and lime green, in spite of Marlene.

  Susan poured paint into the tray. “I’d never have the nerve to paint a room this colour.”

  “That’s because you’ve never had a house of your own.”

  “So nice of you to remind me, Lex.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know.” Susie took the long roller and wrote her name on the wall.

  “Stop that. That’s all I need—the name ‘Susie’ emblazoned across the room forever.”

  “What’s wrong with it, may I ask?”

  “Not a thing. It’s better than Lexie.”

  “If you could be called anything else, what would it be?”

  She didn’t have to think too hard. Lexie Davenport.

  “Good God,” her mother said, “It looks like a bordello.”

  She came over to the house to bring Lexie swatches of material—stuff she’d never use.

  “Thanks Mom.”

  “Oh dear, I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t be so sensitive. I mean it’s colourful!”

  “Do you know what a bordello looks like?”

  Her mom decided to play along. “As a matter of fact I do. It’s how I put myself through teacher’s college.”

  Lexie laughed. They headed for the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Sophie was on the dryer, in the back porch. Her entire mass covered the top of it. She shook to the rhythm of a dark load. Her mother looked at the cat. “I don’t know why, but that looks vaguely obscene.”

  “It’s how I get my jollies.” She reached for the mugs she made in ceramics class and waited for her mom to tell her not to be vulgar, but there was only silence.

  As she busied herself with the tea, she stole a furtive look. Her mother stared out towards the back garden, now covered with snow, her hands clasped in front of her on the table. She looked lonely. She looked different. Lexie felt scared.

  Handing her mom a napkin and the tea, she said, “You’re far away.”

  “Yes.” Her mother took a sip and looked down at her cup. Lexie got nervous.

  “Is something the matter?”

  “Yes.”

 
“Oh my God. You’re not sick are you?”

  Mom shook her head.

  Lexie was in a panic. “It’s not the babies?”

  “No dear, the girls are fine.”

  She breathed easier, and then came the body blow.

  “Your father’s having an affair.”

  Her mother left. Lexie carried her aching body up the stairs and sat in the tub until the water was cold.

  Men hurt you. Men betray you, but not Dad. Not her dad. She couldn’t picture it. She couldn’t make the connection between the sweet man who gave her bear hugs and the man who cheated on his wife. She tried to remember what Mom said.

  “Close your mouth, Lexie, you’ll catch flies.”

  She sounded like Mom again. Lexie could deal with her better that way. The tea seemed to revive her. Her mother shook her head and smoothed her hair away from her face.

  Lexie waited until she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Well? ”

  “Well what?”

  Lexie crossed her arms across her chest and sat stiff as a board. “Well, I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Shit Mother, this isn’t twenty questions. You can’t drop a bomb like this and make me drag it out of you.”

  She sighed. “I know. I don’t know where to start.”

  “Before you do, can I ask why you’re telling me this? Why I need to know?”

  “There’s no one else,” she pleaded. Her voice got higher and that made Lexie uncomfortable. Her mother was always in control. “Think about it, Lexie. Who do I tell? The gossips at Club? The UCW? My Women’s Institute group?”

  She got up and paced the kitchen floor, her hands clenched together. “Everyone in this damn town worships your father. Everywhere I go, people tell me how much they adore him. Do you know what it’s like to hear women I don’t know talk about the time your father brought their children into the world, or saved their child’s life.”

  She sat again. She sounded bitter. “Would you have me tell Beth? A girl so tired she can’t see straight. How about Kate? It takes me forty-five minutes to try and reach her voice mail at that stupid university.” She threw her hands in the air. “And I can’t tell Gabby because she’s disappeared off the face of the earth.”