Incongruousness (Issue 2) by Barbara Waldern - HTML preview

12.AWAY

“I’ll just be away for a week,” she tells her live-in lover. “It’s no big deal. I already explained.”

“Yeah. All of a sudden, some relative contacts you and makes this unusual request. You never talk to relatives, and, as far as I know, they have not contacted you before.”

“Basically, but, like I told you before, there have been a few Christmas cards exchanged and some form letter mailouts over email.” She sighs. “You’re just not used to me being away overnight.”

“No, I’m not. We’ve been together two years—“

“Living together 18 months.”

“Right. You’re counting, so I guess you need a break.”

“You know that’s not how it is, not what I’m saying.”

“Time to loosen the leash, eh?”

“Ben, you know I have a life that has existed longer than I’ve known you. I do have an origin, a family, even though I haven’t been communicating with them much, except for my little sis.”

“I thought you wanted to be together, have a life together.”

“I do. There’s no contradiction. Relax. Anyway, you’ve been away before, for work and to see that friend in Regina.”

“Yeah. Are you complaining, now? I explained. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Okay. And, so in my case—“

“It doesn’t sound as important as my case.”

“No, not to you. Try to understand.”

He does not answer. Instead, he turns away and exits the kitchen stepping out the door into the backyard. He likes to play at yard work when he is pouting. He is silently accepting under duress, as is his way when things do not go as he prefers.

Chelsea shakes her head and finishes tidying up the dishes before going to the bedroom to finish the packing. Her aunt lives in a rural community, so she only needs simple casual clothes. She places a pair of clean jeans and a pair of dress slacks in the case, then chooses some tops.

Her sister calls. “Is he still grumbling about your leaving?”

“Oh, yes. Of course.”

“Chels, I’ve been holding back something, some information. Maybe I should say it to you in person.”

“Very mysterious! What kind of information?”

“It’s gossip—something a friend of Jeremy’s mentioned. It might not be 100% true, but it is a bit unsettling so I think you should know.”

“Can’t it wait until I return? The bus leaves in a couple of hours.”

“It thought your trip might be the best time to digest this news.”

“Spill it. Come on.”

“This friend of Jeremy’s told Jer that the friend that Ben went to see was an old flame from his college days.”

“Oh, third-hand intel passed around a bar. Very solid evidence.”

“Yeah, it was at a bar when Jer was out as usual with his coworkers last Thursday. The rat knows one of the co-workers and Ben’s name came up and he said he’d heard that Ben had gone to see someone he used to run around with because she had emailed him with some excuse.”

“Okay, gossip thread duly noted. Thanks for the posting.”

“You’re welcome. Think about it before you get in any deeper.”

“I live with him.”

“You know what I mean—before you make any deeper commitment about the future.”

Chelsea pauses, then replies, “K, sis. I appreciate your signalling the alert. Like I said, it’s noted. I promise I’ll reflect, but I am sure it’s nothing. He is entitled to have a past and talk to old friends.”

“As are you.”

“Yes, as I am. I know he has to adjust to that. He’s been single a long time, Cal.”

There is no reply.

“No, I am not making up excuses for him. We’ll sort it out, the two of us, without your mediation, okay? Gotta go. Still packing.”

“Safe trip. Hope there is a little fun to be had for you.”

“Me too. Bye.”

“Give me a call when you get there.”

“All right. Bye-bye.”

“Your sister again?”

Chelsea jumps slightly.

“Jeremy must be one pushover. She oughta loosen her corset and make him a man.”

“Ben.”

On the bus, Chelsea reviews the letter from her aunt, her mother’s older sister, Penelope. She writes that she wants to pass some articles to her because they are linked to her mother. Chelsea thinks back to when she last saw Aunt Penny. It must have been at her mother’s funeral reception some six years ago. She had not said much, but then both she and Chelsea were naturally upset and preoccupied at the time. Aunt Penny only said she would get in touch with Chelsea later, which she had not done in six years.

Funerals are the wrong time for the survivors to be obligated to be polite and attentive hosts, thinks Chelsea. They actually need private time and space to grieve, rather than put up a public face. It is really an unfair situation and the experience has made her want to avoid funerals and plan something really simple for her own passing.

“Who wants to remember those times, too?” Chelsea asks herself. Remembering only reopens the grief. “I can’t blame Auntie for wanting to suppress the memory and the memories of her sister by avoiding her niece,” she reflects.

It takes pretty much a day to travel by bus from Winnipeg to Edmonton. The road is quite icy in patches and there have already been some snow falls though it is still early November. Chelsea manages to nap halfway through, but wakes up for the dinner break. She calls to let her Aunt know she is on her way as scheduled. “A-okay,” is the sparse reply. It will be dark and frosty when Chelsea arrives, but her Aunt reminds her that a cab will be waiting for her at the bus station. She has even sent the cab number with a photo of the driver by text, for the sake of security. Her aunt was always a thoughtful and thorough planner, her mom had always said.

She arrives and her aunt opens the door briskly and promptly as Chelsea makes it to the landing with a bag in each hand and a small day pack on her back. The room behind Aunt Penny is dimly lit but Chelsea can make out the pale lined face framed with grey hair above the pale pink housecoat as her Aunt motions her to proceed upstairs with a hand. “It’s on the right—your mom’s old room, in fact. If you’re not hungry right now, let’s put aside the greeting until the morning, shall we? This is late for me.”

“I’m fine. That’s alright. I have a book.”

“There’s water and some biscuits by the bed, in case. I could put some tea on…?”

“No tea just before bed, thanks. The water’s fine for now.”

“Good night, then.”

“Good night, Auntie Pen. It’s good to see you.”

“Hah. I’ll look better in the morning. I promise.”

The old woman seems curt. Chelsea considers that someone who had spent decades as a surgical nurse had probably seen some pretty harsh things that might harden one’s outlook. She also knows that the loss of her baby over thirty years ago and her husband’s death some 15 years ago had likely caused her to toughen up.

Chelsea scans the bedroom she enters—it is a lost world of her mother’s where she had slept from childhood through to her graduation with a teacher’s certificate. She knew that her aunt kept the room for guests, but she had preserved some of the past. There was the homemade patch quilt, and vintage four poster bed and compatible chair situated nearby. The wals had been redecorated with an innocuous flower print relieved by some stripes in places (not a pattern to Chelsea’s liking at all), but there was the familiar brass bedside lamp and the old hooked rug, faded but still strong. Pictures of her mother as a bright looking happy child and complacent pretty teen sit framed on the newish dresser.

The atmosphere was simultaneously comforting yet disconcerting. Chelsea dons her nightwear, gets into the soft bed and tries to read so as to distract herself and let herself get drousy. Memories and itchy thoughts try to break through for a few hours, so that she gets little sleep that first night in this house.

“I bought coffee just for you. Bet you want some now. I never sleep much traveling,” remarks Aunt Pen at the breakfast table.

“That was very considerate. You remembered. And, yeah, I didn’t sleep so well last night and the night before last.”

“Lotsa memories percolating up, no doubt. Comes with the territory, I’m afraid.”

“I realize that. I tried to prepare myself.”

“Still—“

“You live with it all the time so I guess you’re used to it.”

“You can’t escape your past, so no use trying. In fact, that’s sorta why I wanted to speak to you, one-on-one without disruptions here.”

“Promise made to mom?”

“No, actually. It’s my own notion. I’m 70 now and who knows what shape I’ll be in within a few years. When your stepdad called out of the blue three months ago to give me an update on the family, I decided it was time to reach out to you. I appreciate you complying with the request. Better to get to make this trip before winter, too.”

“I see, I see. You say Jim spoke to you? What do you mean by ‘update’?”

“Just how and what everyone’s doing. I learned you had settled in with somebody. It made me want to discuss your mom a bit with you.”

“You’ve definitely got me intrigued. It’s a little scary, at the same time.”

“Sure. You can stay a whole week?”

“Yup. Ben doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like me being away at all, but I thought it was important, for me and for you.”

“Good thinking.” Her aunt faces her across the table with a poker face. She stirs to serve up the scrambled eggs. “Well, then, since you’ll be here a few days, no need to hurry. Let’s eat up while the food’s still and get reacquainted today. I’ll show you around the village this afternoon. I still drive in the daylight. Got that Volkswagon Golf still. Can you imagine?”

The first couple of days are pleasant. Chelsea learns more about her Aunt’s work and how she has been living in recent years. Penelope learns more about Chelsea’s work and her partner in return. The conversation remains on safe territory until the third day.

“I wish I’d had time to talk more with you around the time of the funeral, but, God, was it a difficult time. I suppose it was to you. And I don’t blame you if you wanted to avoid me to avoid the past.”

“Hon, I already told you. There is no use trying to avoid the past. Not that we need to roll around in it, either. It was more because of the tension between me and your stepfather, and my own grieving which has taken some time to heal. Plus, you can see now that it is not an easy thing to go from here to Winnipeg by road. My pension’s small, but, no, it would have been worth the trip regardless. I guess I did not know what to say until now, and it appears that the time is ripe.”

“I get it. Are you on better terms with Jim now?”

“I can honestly say, ‘yes.’”

They are walking along the river pathway. They stroll for nearly 10 more minutes before Penelope speaks again.

“Here it is. Your dad and mom did not have an ideal relationship.”

“That’s not new to me. I remember them fighting, but they sorted it out and stayed together.”

“Until you and your sister were adults, that is. They separated before he got sick, remember?”

“Yes.”

“Your mom and I used to talk about that relationship. I feel I should reveal something about it to you.”

“Ah.What?”

“Let’s sit down here.”

“It’s because of Jim’s description of this Ben that I thought I should speak my mind. I can see history repeating itself, so I wanted to give you some extra food for thought, before you cement that relationship with Ben into something more permanent.”

“We’re together and taking time to build the relationship.”

“You’re committed to him, but how much is he committed to you?”

“Just before I came here, Callie told me that Jeremy had heard something about Ben through the grapevine. He said that he had seen an old flame on an overnight trip a few months back. He told me it was ‘just a friend’ from his school days. He hadn’t let on that it was a female friend. Still, I see no harm, even if they did get cosy. Maybe they had to resolve old feelings, tie things up. I intend to talk to him.”

“Hear what you’re saying? You’ve made a commitment, but you’re pretty relaxed about the possibility of him revisiting a lover from the past. Yet, he seems suspicious of your comings and goings, from what you say.”

“I’m just giving him the benefit of the doubt, until I talk to him. I’m sure it was an honest affair—I mean an honest exchange.”

“Chelsea, your mom confided in me that she no longer loved your dad long before they split up. She wanted you and your sister to grow up more before they did. Now, I know you loved your dad. He was a good father, and so you should have. I’m saying that he and your mother did not have such a good relationship because the love had run out, and that they kept it together for appearances’ sake even though people knew that they both had friends with benefits on the side. They made an arrangement, and vowed to postpone the official break up. Put yourself in her shoes, now. What kind of life do you think that was?”

Chelsea had always thought that her Aunt Penelope, despite her natural cheeriness in an earlier era, had been edgy around her father because of her own misfortune of losing a baby daughter and not being able to have more children. She was beginning to see her past in a new light, however.

“And you’re saying all this to me because…?”

“Your mom would not have wanted you to make a similar mistake. She would want you to choose wisely and be happy.”

“Fair enough.” Chelsea rises to walk some more and take in this news. Then her cellphone rings. It’s Ben. “Ben, Aunt Penny and I are in the middle of something at the moment. Can I call you back later today?”

Penelope can detect that Ben is protesting and asking questions. She raises an eyebrow. “He does not accept being told to wait by you very well. He seems suspicious, too. Not good signs.”

“Okay, you’re right. I have bee thinking that we just need to get to know each other better and establish more trust.”

“Yet you’re basically living as husband and wife and have been for quite some time. Have you put your cart before your horse? Aren’t couple supposed to feel trust then live together?”

“You don’t know him.”

“No, but I’m learning a lot. I see some red flags, Chelsea. So does Jim, and your little sister, by the way.”

“You’re all conspiring to talk me out of this relationship?”

“We are concerned for you. We want the best for you, as I said your mom would want too. I want to do what your mom would want.”

Chelsea turns back to walk to the parking lot and sits in silence while Penelope starts up the car’s motor and takes them back to the house. After dinner, they sit in the living room watching a comical film on TV before the older woman excuses herself to retire for the night.

The coffee is brewing when Chelsea makes it downstairs in the morning. Her aunt has expected her to need an extra cup this morning.

“It’s difficult to take in, I know. Let it settle in your mind and process the information before you say much more,” advises Aunt Penny without bothering with a morning greeting. Wrapped in a knit throw and her cardigan, Chelsea takes a mug of coffee out to the front steps. She decides she needs some space away from her Aunt for the moment, and asks to borrow her car.

“Yes, dear, as long as you’ve a current license. Going far?”

“I thought I might go to town and shop.”

“There are some nice specialty shops there these days. Enjoy.”

Chelsea has in mind a gift for Ben to show him her loyalty, to show him she has been keeping him in mind. She hesitates once she is in a men’s clothing boutique, though. “Who am I kidding? This is time for me. Anyway, he’d just scorn a gift,” she realizes.

Instead, Chelsea browses through women’s wear and other shops. She chooses a blouse for the officem and picks up some fine fabric with which to make an ensemble for the blouse herself. Then she finds herself attracted to an art supply store, and winds up purchasing sketching and painting materials.

It is late in the afternoon by the time she returns to her Aunt’s abode. “Have fun? Want to show me what you bought?” Penelope peers at the openings in the bags and the name of the shops printed on them. She gazes at Chelsea, a little smugness peeping through the mask of feigned indifference. Suddenly, she says to Chelsea, “Come. There are some things I’ve been meaning to show you.”

Downstairs in the semi-finished heated basement, there are some pieces of furniture and boxes arranged in a corner. “I put these aside for you. Some of these things belonged to your mother and some are mine.”

Penelope uncovers an electric sewing machine, circa 1985 and apparently in good working order. Your mom said that you took home ec in school and liked making clothes for awhile. “Planning on giving it another go? If so, you can have this machine, and there are some old but fine quality remnants and notions, if you want. Since you’ve been to an art store today, I hope you don’t mind me saying that your mom always wanted you to do something more with your art degree. Here is my cousin’s old easel and some canvases and frames. They’re yours if you want. I believe there’s a sketch pad and some water colours here, too. They are probably in okay condition.”

At the mention of her degree in fine arts, Chelsea feels defensive. “I got into insurance because there was a good opportunity round the time I was buying the house. With the responsibility of a mortgage, then living with Ben when he was changing jobs…” Her voice trails off.

“Your house is in your name, and you’re principally responsible for the payments? I see.” Penelope looks through some more items to appear focused on another topic rather have Chelsea know that she has picked on her sense of shame at that moment. “Now there are some pieces of furniture I no longer need, and some of your mom’s and dad’s books and knick-kinacks. Have a look through it all and think about what you want. If you want some items, I’ll arrange to have a truck deliver them to your home. Really, it is not at all a charitable gesture. You can see for yourself that these are unused items. Besides, to tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking about selling this place.”

Chelsea makes a list of the available items and says she will think over the offer. Chelsea makes dinner with some groceries bought fresh that same day. While preparing the meal, her aunt sets the table. Chelsea queries, “You said you want to sell your house?”

“I’ll have to pack it in sooner or later. This place will be too much for me to look after soon enough. The market value has come back up, so it might be a good time to sell within the next 12 months. Frankly, Chels, I wanted to ask you something first before I put it on the market. It is yours if you want it—it is due as your inheritence. I do not need money from a sale. My name is on a waiting list on a place in the next town over where the rent is low and location is suitably convenient. I intend to keep my independence and liberate myself somewhat from housekeeping and yard chores. Anyway, we could look at the option of selling it later as long as I am alive, if need be.”

Chelsea is standing, boiled potato held up on the end of a fork in one hand, the other hand on her upper chest and mouth agape. “I never even thought of it.”

“You’re a decent person, Chelsea. It would rightfully go to you through inheritence. We’d have to ask your sister next, if you refuse the offer. Take your time and think about it. Let me know by the New Year.”

“I don’t know. My work and all is in Winnipeg these days.”

“I know, dear, but it is my duty to ask you, and your sister if it is appropriate.”

“She’s married and settled outside Winnipeg, as you know—“

“Quite, but, like I say, she must be kept in the loop and aware of her options.”

“Yes, yes. Well, I’ll think over your offer. No point in rushing to a decision on matters such as this.”

“Indeed. In the meantime, you’re welcome here anytime. Mmm. That is smelling and looking good. Can we eat yet?”

The next day, Chelsea decides to depart early and use the remaining time to pay a visit to her stepfather, who lives in Red Deer, on the way back to Winnipeg. “From what you’ve told me, I feel I need to talk to him now, Auntie.”

“I understand, Chelsea. Do keep in touch and come back any time.” Chelsea calls Ben to briefly update him on her change of plans. She simply hangs up the call when he fusses and shoots out questions. “See you when I get home in about three days.”

Chelsea calls Jim who is pleased with her suggested visit. “I’ll be around. Just doing my hobbies and tending to the dogs and this place these days. You say tonight. No problem. Just don’t expect five-star service.”

“Ha. Three or even two-star service would be adequate, I assure you. See you around 6 p.m. or so? I have to double-check the schedule and exchange my return ticket.”

“Fine. Just call and let me know if there is a delay or change.”

“He really is a nice and engaging person,” thinks Chelsea.

He is there waiting at the station when she arrives. He takes her for a quick dinner and promises hot cocoa in front of the fire at his place. “It’s good to see you, pal.”

“Yeah, likewise. I thought you deserved a little one-on-one time too. I’ve been learning things and I want to say that you’ve been a great stepfather, role-model and solid shoulder to lean on over the years. I really appreciate it. I know that you truly loved mom, and I am grateful for you looking after her, and us.”

Jim’s eyes get a little watery, and he does not know how to respond right away because this declaration is even more unexpected than the visit. “I-I don’t know what to say. Thank-you for saying this, Chels. It means a lot.” They get up to leave the restaurant and they hug each other. “You’ve become a fine woman, dear.”

Chelsea stays at Jim’s for a couple of days. They go horseback riding and he introduces her to some friends. She enjoys his company. He can be amusing and very interesting, she decides.

Chelsea puts herself on a bus headed for Winnipeg. On a pit stop in Regina, though, she has an epiphany. She calls Callie. “Cal, I’m going to stay away longer. Could you do me a favour and get into my place and grab some more of my things? Just make some excuse—I burnt a sweater, or you want to borrow my clothes, or I lost my bag. Whatever. I’m going back to Auntie Pen’s. When am I coming home? I think I am. I don’t know when I’ll be back in Winnipeg. Look, I’ll explain more later. I’m not sure what I’m doing right now, but I’m doing it.”

She calls her Aunt. “As I said, Chels, you are welcome back any time. I guess you’re giving some thtought to keeping this house. Good for you!”

“Yeah, I’ve got some thoughts. I don’t quite know what to do with them all yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

END