Woman of Substance (19 page)

Robbie straightened and lifted her chin. “Thank you, Dr. Clifton, for asking this question. You said yourself that to walk for a little while in someone’s shoes is cliché. But I also found it an enlightening generalization. I’ve learned that people of size are constantly bruised physically by the small spaces that are all around us from chairs that are welded onto tables in fast-food restaurants, to small cubicles in department store change rooms. And they are bruised mentally and emotionally every time someone polices the food that is eaten or the changes in their bodies caused by medication or comments on the impact of genetics. Without personal insults, I would not have understood life from that perspective. I’ve also learned how difficult it is to purchase clothing that has style and that when clothing off the rack doesn’t fit, how easily it was assumed to be my body’s problem rather than the manufacturer’s patterns.” Robbie paused and looked at each panel member. “But I’ve also learned that not everyone would want to be my real size. There are men and women who are starting a revolution. It is empowering to take up space, to be noticed, to be loved and recognized for who you are outside and inside. I met enlightened people who respected me in spite of my outward appearance.”

Jean Clifton nodded toward the back of the room and seemed to be preoccupied and fidgety. Dr. Parker asked if there were any further questions. The committee members shook their heads.

“In that case, I’ll ask Ms. Smith and the guests to leave the room so that the committee can confer,” Dr. Parker said.

“Ms. Smith, wait outside please and we’ll give you the results.” He looked toward the panel. “In thirty minutes?”

By the time she had exited the room, Jake was gone. Brad and Sam both waited and told her that she had done great.

“You really showed them how small-minded some people can be to big people,” Brad said.

“You said it, some people. There are others who love equally the inside and the outside of a person.” Robbie held onto her knowledge that Frank was his name and nature. A fair man. But Jake. What would he do?

Sam slung his arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “You rocked. I’m guessing an A-plus for sure.”

She remembered other friendship kisses and her heart sank. Where was Jake? She was usually visiting Frank right now. If Jake was here, then Frank was alone.

Brad and Sam asked her to text them when she had the results. “You’ve got it. You’re on the list with my parents and these wonderful women.”

Mavis called, “Group hug.” The four women stood in a circle with their arms around each other. “I’d love to stay but the kids will be home from school soon. I’m the driver today so we all have to leave,” Mavis said.

“I’ll text you as soon as I have the results. Thank you so much for your constant support.” Robbie waved goodbye to the women.

Please hurry.
At every thud from a door closing on its frame she gripped the handle of her suitcase tighter, vacillating between exhilaration and dread at the one the door when opened would reveal if she passed or failed. She had promised Frank and Jake that she’d be there and she wasn’t. She should have placed her intrinsic honesty before her need for personal experience and told them right in the beginning. She held onto Frank calling her Robbie, hoping that he knew and could advise her on how to make this up to Jake. What could be taking the committee so long?

She dropped onto a hardback chair in the corridor and watched students bustling to classes and to the library studying for final examinations. She hoped that she would no longer be a part of their angst, but she’d miss the opportunity to grow intellectually in a structured environment as well.

The door opened. “You may come in, please,” Dr. Grainger said.

Robbie squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as she pulled the wheeled suitcase containing the outer self that had helped her complete her invaluable research. She held her breath until she realized that her personal and intellectual growth fostered by the project would continue whether she had to do revisions or write a whole new paper. Her experiment had been good discipline and training for the real world. Whatever capacity she worked at in the future, she’d help find ways to hire the most qualified person and promote education for health and fitness in the workplace.

“Ms. Smith,” Dr. Parker said.

“Yes.” She licked her lips and then contracted her facial muscles that should form a smile while she kept her hand on her roller suitcase for support.

“Although your presentation was unconventional, the majority of the committee agrees that your paper is worthy of a pass with a few minor revisions. Please see my secretary for the final suggestions. Congratulations.” He stood and rounded the table. Stepping forward, he shook her hand, followed by the other committee members, including Dr. Clifton.

“Thank you. Thank you all and I especially need to thank you, Dr. Clifton. You are the best.” Robbie’s tension washed away her fake smile and her mouth felt as if it must have taken over her whole face. She palmed away tears that pooled in her eyes. It wasn’t easy to skip like a child pulling a roller case behind her, but she managed all the way to her car. This time she put the parking ticket beside the other one on her passenger seat. Tomorrow she’d pay both of them.

She called her mother from her cell phone. “Mail those party invitations.”

“Robbie, I’m proud of you. Can I tell your father or do you want to?”

“Is he around?”

“He has appointments this afternoon.”

“I’ll text him. Thanks, Mom, for your support. You know I couldn’t have done this without the two of you. I love you so much.”

Cars moved past her. She saw one slowing down and signaling to take her space when she left.

“We know, but it is nice to hear. What are you doing tonight?” Her mother’s voice echoed pride, and love filled Robbie’s heart.

“Not sure. But I need to visit Frank, the man in the care home and I need to tell my women’s group and I need to jump for joy. Got to go, Mom, someone wants my space. I’ll text Dad as soon as I get home.”

The road was slippery and she held onto the steering wheel and paid close attention to the traffic around her. She didn’t want to cause any of the drivers around her undue concern. She could be magnanimous because she passed.

She parked on the street in front of her house, then opened her cell phone and sent messages to her father, Mavis, Sharon, Margaret, then finally Brad and Sam. What a fortunate woman she was. After she lifted the suitcase from the trunk of the car, she turned and waved to Mrs. Mitchell.
I never did call her and tell her about Robin. I wonder if she is okay? I will be a better neighbor.

When Robbie saw the blinking light on her answering machine, her stomach dropped. The number identified was the University of Regina. Jake had called moments before her defense started. Heart heavy, she pressed ‘play’. The sadness in Jake’s voice crushed down on her chest. He asked her to call him on his cell phone. He recited the number. She couldn’t call him yet. First she wanted to make sure that Frank really did know she was one and the same woman.

She pulled on her runners and grabbed a jacket and ran through the park to the care home, down the hall to Frank’s room. The bed and the room were empty. A loud deep “No” spewed from her mouth. She slid down against the doorframe and sobs filled in the spaces between the noisy intercom, a resident’s call for help, and “Joy to the World” playing through the sound system.

Frank was gone.

She’d visited and spent time and loved him and hadn’t ever had the chance to tell him how much he meant to her. “Oh, Jake.”

She approached the nursing station with her red nose and eyes. She just didn’t care. “Excuse me,” she said to the clerk.

“Yes,” the woman in a white lab coat answered.

“Can you tell me when Mr. Frank Proctor passed away?”

She ran her finger down a list on a clipboard. “He died at four o’clock this morning.”

“Thank you.”

She sat on a chair in the reception area and tried to think through the buzzing in her ears. Dear sweet, funny, loving, Frank was gone.
Why hadn’t Jake called me right away?
She knew the answer. In her duplicity, she’d given him her cell phone number as a way to contact Robin Smyth. If he tried to call, she wouldn’t know. She’d turned her phone on silent this morning while she reviewed her notes and got ready for this afternoon. It would have gone to her message manager. She dug for her phone in her handbag, clicked through her missed calls. A number without a name was there. Her heart skipped with gratitude that he didn’t reach her before she defended her thesis or she may not have been able to go through with it. There she goes again. All about her.
Frank
, she thought,
I’m sorry. I really am. I need to see Jake now, and it won’t be easy
.

Did Frank tell him the truth? Is that why Jake had come to her thesis defense? Did he want to see her humiliation? No, he wouldn’t do that. He had called her cell, the only number he had for Robin. The message at home was after he knew who she really was. Her phone number was in the university records.

While she walked through the park, the wind whipped through her hair and tore at her coat buttons as she fought her way back home. She was like the spider whose web was ripped apart in the wind. The only way to fix it was to start again.

The winter sun had set twelve hours and fifty-two minutes after Frank had departed this world. Robbie squinted toward the lock on her front door. She’d forgotten to turn on the outside light in her haste to visit Frank. With the flip of a switch the entryway was bathed in warm candescent light. She was going to graduate. She was poised to put her first foot on the career ladder and Frank, who’d accepted her unconditionally, wasn’t here to share her success. She lifted the foam suit out of the case and wrapped her arms around it. This form was a friend but she needed to say goodbye to it. She hung it on its hanger. Her heart felt as if it was trying to squeeze into a small pocket in her chest. It didn’t want to acknowledge her losses. At least Frank had known the truth before he died. Deep in her heart she knew this to be true. She had to speak with Jake. Extend her deepest sympathy. He must be so alone. But would he even see her or believe her again?

Chapter 15

Jake telephoned Jean when he left the Care Manor for the last time. She wasn’t available. He could have waited for her answer instead of coming to the university. His concern had been for his students and that he wanted to find Robin before she went to visit Frank. If Robbie were at the University, she’d help him. And he had to keep moving, keep busy. If he hadn’t been so impatient, Nadine wouldn’t have told him where to find Jean Clifton and he wouldn’t have rushed down the corridors hoping to speak with her before the proceedings began. He was too late. His gut twisted. He’d been used. And not just him, his beloved granddad.

In his office, he paced. He broke pencils in two. He sat in his chair and he got up two minutes later. Now what? The Robin or Robbie that he knew couldn’t have used them strictly for research. Frank and he had trusted her. When he’d first met her in the park, all dirty and disheveled, he knew something wasn’t aboveboard. He was seldom wrong. He should have followed his gut reaction. She still didn’t know that Frank was gone. Jake snorted. At least his grandfather didn’t need to be told that he had been deceived.

When Jake’s brain found a moment of clarity he called Nadine. She provided Robbie’s number and he left a brief message requesting her to call his cell. He stared out of the window. He’d made acquaintances all the time in his line of work so why was he sitting here like a lost puppy? It was so much more than just a woman, if he told himself the truth. It was his budding friendship with Robin that he would miss. Without realizing it, he’d looked forward to having her in his life for a short time, as she had been in Frank’s, at least until the funeral service was over. He shouldn’t be here. He should go back to the hotel.

There was a rap on his door. He groaned. He did not need any interruptions. “One moment.” He straightened his jacket, sat in his chair behind his desk, and opened a file. “Come in.”

He blinked and shook his head. Jean Clifton. Somehow he thought it might be Robin.

“Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry. I received your message just as the committee settled into their chairs. I would have come sooner, but I couldn’t leave.” Skidding around the desk, she threw her arms around his neck. “I wanted to pass on my sympathies but you know as the student’s supervisor I couldn’t do anything to jeopardize her presentation, even if she was way out on a limb.”

He tried to dislodge himself from her embrace. “Of course not. I didn’t want to upset you, but I had student appointments and I needed Nadine to contact students. I wasn’t thinking straight. I could have called her. I also wanted you to know that I’ll need some time off to arrange things.”

“Thank you for finding me personally. It means a lot to me to share this time with you.” Jean continued to rub his arm. “Can I get you anything? Nadine has a stash of whiskey for medicinal purposes.”

“No, thanks.”

“Nadine rescheduled all of your students. So don’t worry.”

He paged through his mail absently.

“I’m thankful your grandfather didn’t know about Robin’s research project.”

“He must have been weaker than I thought. He was so sharp and observant when he was alive.”

“She passed, you know.”

“Her defense was inventive on a subject that has been in the headlines for months. I think she raised the bar for defense projects and I wouldn’t be surprised if you receive recognition for your support.”

“Do you really think so?” She gave his arm a final stroke. “But that’s not important, now. I’ll have Nadine make you some strong coffee. You look like you can use something.” Jean closed the door when she left.

He groaned at another tentative knock at his door. “Come in.”

He sank into his chair. “Robbie.” He felt as if he were recognizing the pain from a burn as a blister formed.

“He died and I wasn’t there,” Robbie said brokenly. Tears swam in her gorgeous hazel eyes.

“I was,” he said, relieved his voice was calm.

“Can I do anything?” She stood there, almost imploring him to help her.

Everything hardened inside him. “No. Everything is under control. Frank took care of most details.”

“Jake, I’m sorry.” She stood marooned on his carpet.

He extended a lifeline from his own grief anesthetic. “Congratulations on achieving your goal.”

“I passed my defense, yes.”

He glanced around the wood paneled office. His framed diplomas hung on the wall. “I understand field research but I didn’t expect to be a subject.” His gaze caught the photo of the !Kung Village.

Suddenly he needed her to leave. He glanced at the closed door.

“Could you consider forgiving me?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“I’m not big into forgiving your deliberate deception to me, but even more so, to him.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Jake.” She extended her hands toward him, palms upward.

He swiveled his chair toward the window. “You’ve made your point,” he said evenly.

“I’ll leave but remember you don’t even know me. We could resume our friendship and see where it goes?”

He recognized Robin’s voice. He shook his head. He was going crazy.

She appeared at his side with a tentative smile. “Frank also said you can never have too many friends.”

“How would you know what he said? You weren’t there?”

“But I was Jake. I was. I was his friend. I was your friend, too. Both in and out of the disguise.”

He remained silent. He didn’t know how to respond to her. A part of him wanted to continue to see her, would miss her tentativeness, followed by her strength to be a friend to Frank and to him. He would miss seeing her and assuring him he had done the best he could.
Wait, that was Robbie
. He’d miss her playfulness, her needing him for support when she felt vulnerable. Wait, that was part of her research. The woman standing beside him could never feel vulnerable. But that is exactly what she was, standing beside him, asking for another chance.

Finally he said, “As Frank might say, or might have said, friendship is based on respect and trust.”

Somewhere his brain registered his need to project protective indifference. Jake ran his hand over his chin. “Friendship.”

“Believe me. I’d like be your friend. I will be, if you let me, give me time to explain why I did what I did.” She paused and her eyes welled up again. She ran a tongue across her lips. “Was-was the end hard for Frank?”

Jake’s stomach knotted, remembering that final breath. “No, he went peacefully. Look, I’ve got final arrangements to make. If you get the newspaper, you’ll read the details in his obituary.”

“Th-that’s good. I’ll leave you to your plans. Goodbye, Jake. Please know I’m truly sorry. But I’m glad I got to know him. He was a gentleman.” She closed the door silently behind her.

Jake’s chest tightened. If Robin came to the memorial service, it would probably be the last time he’d see her. Even though the city was small, it wouldn’t be the same. He’d met people and enjoyed their company all of his life and then left them behind. He would do it again.

As he returned to his desk, he spotted a priority post envelope from his old university sitting in his inbox. How did he miss this? He sat, then tore open the end with little enthusiasm. The enclosed letter stated that the auditor had found the missing funds. He put the letter down and put his face in his hands for a moment. Then he picked it up again and read the details. One of his associates had been influenced by the childhood poverty they had witnessed due to AIDS and had handed out cash to starving mothers and children. He’d emptied his pockets that day as well. He recalled the village orphanage, where it seemed as if children looked after babies, because thirty-two percent of children were orphaned as a result of AIDS. Now he knew money was just a stopgap. It didn’t bring back the parent they had lost either. He was in their shoes now and he was educated and he didn’t know how to take care of his orphaned status. Another tentative rap on the door brought him back to the present.

“Coffee.” Nadine stood with a steaming mug in her hands.

“Thank you.” And on her heels, Christie, his student from Anthropology 100 approached, stopped, then shifted from foot-to-foot with her paper in her hand.

“What can I do for you, Christie?” Jake asked.

“Professor Proctor, I just need your help with this one detail please. I have to hand this paper in today.”

“Let me have a look.”

It took all of Jake’s will power to focus on his student. His mind wandered like a piece of fluff in the wind.

But one thought became clearer and solidified. His reputation was safe. He was free to return to Ottawa, or anywhere in the world. There wasn’t anything holding him here anymore.

Robbie followed the well-worn path through The Regina Cemetery, where they had the rule that every marker was to be placed at ground level. There were no interesting monuments to find her way to the place where Jake and the minister, along with the other mourners, would meet. An employee of the cemetery directed her toward the burial plot on this Friday, the day of the Frank’s final resting place. It was as bright and clear as a solitaire diamond, and Robbie felt as cold and alone in the fat suit. She’d put it on with extra care and attention as her tribute to Frank. Although the sun shone, it brought no warmth as they stood around the gaping hole, with the mahogany casket suspended on belts, ready for the last words to be said. Robbie glanced at the marker to see ‘Beloved husband, father, and friend’ chiseled in the marble for all to see. This was a legacy to be proud of. She wanted to hope that she hadn’t lost the right to be a friend and that Frank knew in the end that she hadn’t trashed his trust for her own selfish goals. If only he’d lived twelve more hours, she’d have known for sure that he’d heard her explain everything while he slept.

Her eyes filled and the tears fell unrestrained as she watched Jake, proud and tall, with a handful of dirt ready to drop.

“My grandfather was a man who honored people, and accepted them as they were. He listened when they talked about their lives. He always called a spade a spade.” A few people chuckled. “He did not worry about what others thought. I wish he had been able to stay around longer to share his wisdom and courage with me.” With a shaky breath, he continued. “And now you should all know what advice he gave for this day. He wants us to share good food, a hearty laugh, and a genuine friendship. So, after we leave the cemetery, we’ll meet in the recreation hall at Care Manor and we’ll enjoy his last wish.”

Afterward, Robbie could not bring herself to return to the hall and mingle with those who came to share memories of her friend, Frank. She was not ready to purge her guilt with self-forgiveness. She just wanted to go home to her mother and be her little girl.

With the attention of a robot, Robbie drove the short distance north on Highway 11 and descended into the valley with the bluffs and curves like the backs of giant cows hunkered down to wait out a storm. She sang along with the tunes of the eighties. She thought about the beautiful forest-green empire waist dress she would buy for her graduation day. She had to purchase her father’s imported licorice from the nut and candy store for Christmas and she could probably get her mom’s special herbal tea blend at the health food store down the street. But what was Jake going to do without Frank and without her? Frank had asked her to take care of Jake.

When she parked in front of the two-story Victorian house, her shoulders lifted out of their slump. Home. She took a moment and squeezed into the rocking chair on the open front porch. With her hands snuggled into her pockets, her nose covered with her scarf, she rhythmically rocked the chair with her feet, creating its age-old comforting motion.

“Hello?” her mother called out of the door. She wore Christmas red even though it clashed with her copper hair, which she had knotted on top of her head.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, it’s you.”

Robbie laughed a little. She had forgotten that she was in disguise. “I need a few minutes.”

Her mother stepped carefully in her satin slippers and bent down and kissed Robbie’s cheek. “I’ll put on the coffee.”

“Thanks.”

The rhythm seeped into her soul and gradually she became aware of the sparrows flittering amongst the branches of the evergreen trees.

When she went indoors, she found herself surrounded by garlands, colored glass balls, twinkling lights, and porcelain villages. The Christmas tree seemed to reach the top of the second floor with the angel that anchored the gold ribbons hanging down the branches.

Robbie hugged her mom. “It’s beautiful.”

Her mother stepped back and shook her head at her daughter. “Here, let me hang your coat in the closet. You must be very hot.”

“No, not too bad. If I know I’ll be indoors for a long time, I can put cold gel packs in little pockets around the abdomen.”

“Clever. Are you sure you don’t want to change? You’ve got some workout clothes in your bedroom. I could lend you some lounging pajamas.”

Robbie shook her head. “I’m honoring Frank. Today was his celebration of life.” She glanced at the plate of festive cookies. “He talked about his wife’s favorite recipes during this season. They always baked Jam Jams. She’d roll out the dough and bake the cookie. He was the thimble-hole-cutter man and jam-assembly-line person. His job was spreading the strawberry jam on warm cookies and pasting the cookie with the thimble hole on top. He felt he contributed to their Christmas container that they delivered to their neighbors.” She sat at the kitchen table with a glass vase filled with pinecones and Christmas balls. “The year she couldn’t do what she loved, they moved and got the assistance they needed.”

“Megan, Robbie’s car is on the street. Is she in yet?” her father called from the den.

“I’m in the kitchen, Dad.” She played with the tassel on the placemat.

“Nice get up,” her father said as he entered the kitchen.