Ava Comes Home (38 page)

“Jesus, are you an actress or a nun?”

“Pardon?”

“Shit, it's a movie. It's not real. It's make-believe. It's not actually going to happen to you. They'll yell ‘Cut' and we'll go get a hamburger.” The only way she was going to get out of that room was to agree, so, in the end, she agreed.

Then they added one tiny thing. She and Hayden would have to have a rehearsal tomorrow because of scheduling problems. But the boy genius thought it would be a great idea to get the good stuff done first. Pump everyone up, as it were.

Released from bondage, Ava went back to the hotel. Hayden was two floors away. They agreed to meet at seven o'clock. She took a shower and ate cashews while she put her face on. She talked to the mirror.

“How did it go today, Ava?”

“The usual. A woman got screwed.”

“Happens a lot.”

“So I hear.”

He tapped on her door and she was ready. They went out for an expensive meal at Elaine's. Hayden talked and Ava listened. He reached out at one point and grabbed her hand. He kissed the back of it.

“I missed you.”

“Did you?”

“Didn't you miss me?”

She nodded.

“We've got to decide where this relationship is going.” He fiddled with the ring on her finger.

“What do you mean?”

He kissed her fingertips. “While you were away, I realized how much I care about you.”

“While you took a different woman to bed every night.”

He laughed. “Surprisingly, it helped to clarify the situation.”

“You don't say.”

“I mean it. I was comparison shopping. And you know what?”

“What?”

“They didn't hold a candle to you.” He squeezed her hand and gave it a little shake. “Can we go, before I take you here on the table?”

They got their coats and took a taxi back to the hotel. He kept his arm around her as they walked into the lobby. Michael Lancaster and a woman who looked like his wife walked down the hall towards them. His wife recognized her and poked him in the ribs. He glanced at her and kept going. She did the same.

Hayden barely let her get her coat off before he was all over her. “Give me a second,” she pleaded. She shut the bathroom door in his face and turned on the tap. She looked in the mirror.

“Do you even like Hayden?”

She stood there for a few minutes before she shrugged. “Does it matter?”

She turned the water tap off and went out. Hayden was naked in the bed waiting for her. He patted the sheets beside him.

“Let's rehearse before rehearsal.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

After Colleen left, Seamus cleaned up his bedroom carefully, to protect the tiny feet and paws that ran across the floor many times in the run of a day. He swept, vacuumed, mopped, and dried it with a towel. Only when he was satisfied that not one sliver of glass remained, did he sit out on the deck and look at the beach.

He tried to compose a letter in his head as he sat there, but couldn't get a thought to come out right, so he went into the kitchen and searched for paper. Naturally, he couldn't find any. He took down a drawing of Sarah's from the fridge, found a coloured pencil in the junk drawer, and sat at the kitchen table. His hand stayed poised over the paper for an hour. There was nothing he could say. He finally wrote, “Dearest Libby, I love you. Seamus.”

He folded the paper into a tiny square, went into his bedroom and picked up the ring box, putting the note inside. Then he put on a jacket and went out the door. Dexter came with him. He walked to the beach and sat on the log where he sometimes had his morning coffee. It would be dark soon.

Finally he took a flat rock and started to dig. When he thought it was deep enough he took the ring box, kissed it, and put it in the hole. Then he and Dexter filled it with sand. Seamus patted it over. He walked back in the house, lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling all night.

At work the next day, he and Roger only grunted at each other in passing. One of the clerks who worked at the station asked him if he wanted to go out for a bite. He declined. He later heard her complain about him to another clerk, not realizing he was in the coffee room.

“Is he stuck up or is he gay? I can't figure out which.”

“Maybe he's both,” the girl laughed.

“What a waste then.”

“He was married, though.”

“Apparently that means nothing. Lots of gay guys get married. I watched it on Oprah.”

“They do?”

“Yeah. They want kids like anyone else.”

“Why are all gay men really good looking?”

“Not all of them are.”

“Well, a vast majority are. Look at Will on Will and Grace.”

“He's not gay in real life.”

“He's not?”

Seamus walked out of the coffee room and right past them. “Neither am I.”

He went through the day with a pounding headache. The sky looked threatening, a dark, broody twilight in the middle of the afternoon. It made the day seem endless. By the end of his shift, he was anxious to see the kids. He missed them and hoped they'd distract him from his thoughts long enough for him to get a little sleep.

Never far away were thoughts of her. He wondered where she was and what she was doing. Was she thinking of him? He worried about her not eating right. Or not eating at all, which reminded him of food and the fact that he needed some. He did himself a favour and went to the grocery store before picking up the kids. Standing in the vegetable aisle, he remembered the day he ran into her. He passed the mushrooms and stopped. He saw her still, wearing that tea towel around her waist and laughing as she looked in the fridge. He picked up a paper bag and filled it with mushrooms. Look, Libby, here's some for supper. We'll cook them up tonight.

He put the bag back on the display counter and walked out of the store.

All the way out to Colleen's he saw her face. He saw her body. He remembered her perfume. She must be with him. Some essence must have stayed, because it was as if she were right beside him. Or maybe I'm going crazy, he thought.

Seamus pulled into Colleen's and took a deep breath. He had to put Libby away for a while. He needed to love his kids. He mentally kissed her and tucked her into his heart and promised to take her out later, when the kids were asleep.

He walked into the kitchen, a nice normal kitchen, where dishes were still on the counter and pots bubbled away. The TV blared from the family room and Colleen was bent over, looking in her own fridge. “Have you kids eaten all the Dream Whip?” she shouted over her shoulder.

“I didn't. I swear.”

She jumped up and turned around. “God. You scared me.”

“Sorry.”

She came over and gave him a big hug. “I thought of you all day. And all night, for that matter.”

“For pity's sake, don't lose sleep on my account. You can't afford it. You look tired out.”

“I am a little tired.”

He sat at the table. “I'm sorry, Coll. I leave the kids with you too much.”

She waved her hand. “I love the kids. It's my pleasure to have them. I told you before; you can pay me and keep them out of that daycare centre.”

“I can't do that. I don't want to take advantage of you.”

She sat at the table too. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to see our kids grow up and enjoy each other. We're…”

“…such a little family.”

“Don't make fun of me,” she sulked.

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I'm not. Really.”

“Well, we are a little family, Seamus. If you and I can make sure these kids love each other as brothers and sisters, think what a lovely time they'll have when they start their own families. That's what it's all about.”

“They do love each other, and that's thanks to you.”

“Well, I'm lucky I don't have to go to work. I really mean it when I say I'd be happy to take them. If I'm watching them every minute God sends anyway, I might as well get paid for it.”

They smiled at each other.

“Well, I would rather them here than with a bunch of kids in daycare. Someone's always sick. They come down with too many colds.”

“Then it's settled.”

“Thank you, Colleen. I…”

“I know.”

Just then Jack and Sarah ran in and cries of “Daddy” filled the air. He spent an hour before dinner playing with the four kids on the family room rug. They told him about their day—well, three of them did. Sarah nodded happily and agreed with everything that was said.

His spirits lifted and even though he knew it was only temporary, he was grateful for the reprieve. Dave came home and they sat down to meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Seamus realized he was starving and had two helpings. Colleen moaned about a goblin eating all the Dream Whip, so they had to eat their butterscotch pudding without benefit of a topping. No one seemed to care.

The kids went off after supper to jump on the beds and the three adults sat around the dining room table with their tea. Seamus knew he should go and let his sister and her hubby have a little time to themselves, but he was lonely, he wanted to stay near someone, if only for a little while.

They saw it at the same time through the dining room window— an unfamiliar pickup truck pulled into the yard. The passenger door opened and their father lurched out and almost fell in the driveway. The truck backed up and took off.

Colleen's face turned white. “Oh no.”

“I told you Colleen,” Seamus frowned. “You shouldn't get your hopes up.”

“Look, guys,” Dave sighed, “call if you need anything, but I hate this bullshit. I'll be in the garage.” He got up from the table and went out the back door.

“What do we do?”

“What we always do,” Seamus said. “Nod and agree with everything he says until he passes out on the couch.”

Colleen shoved her chair back as she got up. “I hate this. It's always the same disappointment.”

“You go watch TV with the kids in the bedroom. I don't want them to see him like this.”

“Do you mind? I don't think I can talk to him right now,” Colleen said.

“You go. I know how to deal with drunks.”

Seamus walked out into the kitchen and sat at the table. It took his father a while to stagger from the driveway to the porch, from the porch to the door, and then the door into the kitchen. He swayed like the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz—no bones whatsoever.

He gave an exaggerated salute. “Hello, me son.”

“Dad.”

“Fine night out there, tonight,” he grinned.

“Yep.”

“Aren't you goin' to invite me in?”

“Not my house.”

“True, true, but our Colleen will let me in. She's a good girl.” He reached for the back of the kitchen chair but overestimated its distance. His hand swung down and he nearly fell forward. “Oops.” He grabbed the kitchen counter instead.

“Who drove you here?”

“A buddy. Cecil. You know him. Used to work at the coke ovens.” He made another attempt to grab the back of the chair. This time he connected. “I gotta sit.” He scraped the chair over the kitchen floor and sat on it, leaning forward to wipe his hand down his unshaven face. “What's a guy gotta do to get a drink? I'm parched.”

“You don't need another drink.”

Kenny pointed at his son. “That's where you're wrong, b'y. You always need another drink.” He laughed like a fool at his own joke and then glanced up at Seamus with that look, the one Seamus hated. The one where he starts talking but his eyes don't quite make it to your face until the last syllable.

“Don't be such a hard ass boy. I need a drink and then I'm goin'.” “Where are you going?”

His head bobbed up and down. “Well now, let's see. Might go to the Legion for another beer or might go to the tavern. So much booze, so little time.”

“I'll drive you home.”

“Don't wanna go home. Nothing there.”

“Sure there is. I'll take you home and you can go to bed.”

He whined like a baby. “I don't wanna go home. I wanna see my Colleen. Colleen! Where are ya, girl?”

“She's watching the kids, Dad. I don't want them to see you like this.”

Kenny's head flew back. “Why not? I'm their Granddad, aren't I? Not that I see the little buggers much.” He pointed his finger at his son. “And that's your doin'.”

Seamus got out of the chair. “That's right. Let's go and we can talk on the way.” He reached out to take his father's arm.

Kenny pushed it away. “Get off. What ya think you are? A cop?” He roared. “A cop. My son, the cop. Ain't that a joke?”

“Let's go, Da.”

He pushed Seamus's arm away again. “I'll go when I get my drink, and not before.”

“If I give you a drink, you'll come with me?”

“Yes, boy. Yes, indeed.”

Seamus went to the cupboard and took out a glass. He knew where Dave kept his liquor. He poured a little amber rum in a glass and added tap water. He passed it to his Dad. “Here.”

“Wait. I gotta piss.”

“Christ.” Seamus took his old man by the arm and dragged him to the bathroom. He pushed him in and shut the door. His father serenaded himself as he peed. Seamus opened the door when he heard him fiddle with the knob, and pulled him back into the living room. He put him in the lazy boy chair, hoping that at some point during this last drink, he'd pass out. Then he'd carry him out to the car and take him away.

Seamus sat on the chair across from him. He watched his father take a gulp of rum.

“Ahh, good, b'y, good.” He tried to focus on his son. “Why don't you have a drink? Have one with your old man.”

“No, thanks.”

“Story of my life.” He took another drink. “Where'd you come from? Don't know a man around here whose son doesn't drink with his father. I drank with my old man.”