Chapter Two

I opened my eyes just wide enough to squint. Elizabeth was propped up against her headboard, reading by the sunlight that streamed in through the bedroom window. It was the same book she’d been reading at the beach, but now I could make out the title on the cover: Love Story.

“Have you seen the movie?” I asked as I sat up.

“Only five times. I’m going to marry Ryan O’Neal, or live with him anyway. Maybe we’ll have a loft with a king-size waterbed in Greenwich Village. We’ll live in glorious sin.”

“That should help him get over his dead wife,” I said. I’d seen the movie once and thought it sappy. I guessed I was in the minority. “You can start your own love story.”

Elizabeth ignored me. “I keep hoping Ali McGraw is going to pull through but she never does. It’s so sad, but that’s what makes it good.” Her bottom lip actually trembled. My cousin could put on an act; there was no doubt about that.

“Sad is overrated,” I said.

I pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed, stretching my arms toward the ceiling. Saturday morning at Cedar Lake. My head hurt thinking about my father’s pending arrival. At least the weather was going to be good. I searched through my drawers for my favourite cut-off blue jeans and a black T-shirt, then brushed my hair and let it wave around my face, knowing the more I tried to straightened it, the wilder it would go. My freckles weren’t even worth bothering about. Covering them with foundation just made me look like a clown. I turned from the mirror. Elizabeth was watching me from where she rested her back against the headboard. Her staring was making me uncomfortable.

“You getting up or what?” I asked.

“I just want to finish this. I’ll catch you later.”

Not if I keep moving you won’t. “Sure, no rush.”

Mom had left a package of lemon Danishes on the counter and I grabbed one along with a glass of milk as I made my way to the store. I could hear Mom talking to somebody toward the front of the shop. I finished eating and went to see her, licking my fingers as I walked, hoping the calories would go straight to my chest.

Dad turned when I walked in, nodding once in my direction. He was still wearing his work clothes and boots and held a ball cap in his hands. His hollow cheeks worked in and out as he chewed on a toothpick. He was the reason I had my hateful red hair. His had darkened over the years into a duller auburn colour, and if there was a god, mine would too. Luckily, that was all we had in common, because he was short and broad-shouldered with pale blue eyes that couldn’t hold a smile. Sometimes I pretended we weren’t related and might have convinced myself it if it wasn’t for the hair.

“You slept late,” he said. He was straightening the gum display on the counter, aligning the packages so none was out of place. He’d be moving onto straightening the aisle of chips next.

I took a few steps closer. The smell of pulp from the mill hit my nose — a stench that his clothes held onto no matter how often my mom washed them. I imagined his skin was covered in a film of chemicals, toxic particles that sweated out of him in a thin vapour.

“Do you need me today, Mom?” I asked.

“You can go meet up with your friends. I’m okay here. I was just telling your father how much help you were the last few days.”

I squinted as the sunlight caught her face. It made her brown hair golden. She was smiling at me and motioning toward the door with her eyes.

“Okay. Thanks.”

I reached the magazine rack and stopped when my father asked, “Where’s your cousin Elizabeth?”

“Reading in our room.” I waited a few seconds, but he didn’t have a follow-up question. I pushed open the screen door.

“I hope we haven’t got another lazy one,” I heard my father say as I started down the steps. He didn’t care whether I heard him or not and that hurt more than his words. I couldn’t hear my mother’s reply.

I started running down the path toward the lake, trying to outrun the toxic cloud that was my father. I’d try to shake off the sick feeling I got when he was around, but it would linger like the smell of his clothes in my nostrils. I knew there was no escaping my father once he seeped under my skin.

I felt better as soon as I saw the waves rolling in ribbons onto the shore. The water was still too cold for swimming, but I took off my sandals and waded along the shoreline around the point where the community beach nestled in the bay. The frigid water felt good, like penance for my uncharitable thoughts.

Most of the cottages along the lake had their own private beaches, but everyone under the age of twenty liked to gather at Minnow Beach. I was hoping my summer friends would appear before long, and I was in luck. Danny Saunders and Michelle Cheung were sitting in the sand in our usual meeting place as if we hadn’t spent a winter apart.

I dropped my sandals onto the sand and plopped down beside Danny. “Great to see you guys,” I said.

“Back at you,” said Danny. “We were just talking about going to find you at the store.”

“Did you have a good winter?” Michelle asked after she stood up and hugged me.

“Not bad,” I said. “Passed my year. Made the volleyball and basketball teams. Managed to stay out of jail … just.” Spicing up my straight and narrow life with hints of walking on the wild side was better than letting on how many Saturday nights I stayed in watching Hawaii Five-O and Gunsmoke.

Michelle sat back down on the other side of Danny and grabbed his hand. He said, “Ours was much the same except for the volleyball and basketball part. We came by the store last night but you’d gone somewhere. I met your cousin Elizabeth. She’s very pretty.”

Michelle frowned at him. “You told me you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m not blind.”

“Did she say anything worth repeating?” I asked. They’d figure out soon enough that Elizabeth was only pretty on the outside.

“Just that she hates it here,” said Michelle.

“What a surprise.”

“She didn’t strike me as someone into the nature scene,” said Danny.

“She’s not. I don’t really know her, though. I’ve only spent a few nights at their house in Toronto. They visited us twice that I can remember. The last time, I was twelve and she was fourteen and all she wanted to do was chase boys at the mall.”

“No malls here,” said Danny. “What’s she doing in Cedar Lake?”

“Her rich parents are freaking out because she has a black boyfriend who plays in a band. We’re her punishment.”

“Her parents are rich?”

“Stinking. Her dad is vice president of a little company that builds airplanes.”

“Must be nice. Guess you’re going to show her how the other half lives.” Danny punched me lightly on the arm.

“Yeah, she’s already let me know how much she enjoys my company.”

“Did you see the family that moved into the Davidson cottage?” asked Michelle.

I stared at her. “Do you guys know everything that goes on around here?”

“What else is there to do?” Danny asked. “And you know how my mother is an expert on other people’s business.”

“The man is cu-uuute,” said Michelle. “I heard his family used to come here for the summer when he was a kid. They lived in the States somewhere.”

“That’s what my mom said too. His name’s Johnny Lewis and the woman is called Candy,” I said.

“Candy? What kind of a name is that?” asked Michelle.

“A pretty sweet one,” said Danny, rubbing his hands together.

I gave him a shove. “That was bad, Saunders.”

“Yeah, but you’ve missed me, right?”

“I’m starting to rethink it.”

“He grows on you,” said Michelle, putting her arm around his shoulders. Danny gave her a kiss on the mouth before looking at me and grinning.

A dog barked from somewhere down the beach and I turned to see a man throw a stick in a high arc into the water. The dog leapt in after it and I watched for a while. I’d had a cocker spaniel puppy for a whole week once. The dog had liked to chew on things and the mess had driven my father wild, so he’d made me give it back.

“Do you want to drive into Campbellford for coffee?” asked Danny. “I got a car over the summer.”

“I should let my mom know.”

“We won’t be that long.”

“Okay.”

We got up and started walking toward the road. Michelle linked her arms through mine and Danny’s. “We’re heading back to Kingston early tomorrow to start jobs at the Dairy Queen. My dad got us in with his friend who manages the one on Princess Street.”

My shoulders drooped. “You aren’t going to be here for the summer?”

“We’ll be at our cottages most weekends,” she promised. “We’ll come back to the lake to relieve the boredom, never fear.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

The heaviness in my chest had returned. This summer was going to be even worse than I’d first imagined. Danny and Michelle weren’t going to be around, Tyler was off with his new crowd, and I was going be stuck with my nasty cousin. It was also the first summer my older brother William wouldn’t be at the lake. I didn’t know how things could get any worse, but I was beginning to think they’d find a way.

I pushed open the store door, not feeling too good about disappearing for the whole day. The bell jangled as I stepped inside. Mom looked up and the creases I saw in her forehead and around her mouth relaxed. She jumped off her stool and skirted around the counter.

“I was starting to worry. It’s not like you to go off without telling me. I need you to watch the store while I cook supper. Your father’s gone upstairs to have a nap and Elizabeth is lying in the backyard hammock reading. You know how your father is if he doesn’t get his supper on time.”

“Sorry, Mom.” I searched her face for signs of the mother who disappeared whenever my father showed up.

“I’ll call you when supper is ready.”

“Okay.”

After she’d gone, I looked around the store and took inventory in my head so I wouldn’t have to think about my life too much. Mom sold the staples that all cottagers needed and my eyes took stock — milk, butter, cheddar cheese, Velveeta in bright yellow boxes, Wonder bread, luncheon meats, toiletries, bug spray, popsicles, chips, gum, and chocolate bars. A rack of magazines and another of best sellers, usually Harlequin romances or mysteries, stood next to a display of fishing gear, pink and blue flip-flops, and straw sunhats. I looked down. The plank floors were coated in beach sand, and I guessed Mom had had a busy day. She could have used me but hadn’t let on.

I waited on a steady stream of kids who came through the store in search of popsicles or soft drinks. There were a lot of familiar faces but some new families too. Renters were taking over the south end of the lake and the long-timers weren’t pleased. They’d tried to pass a bylaw to restrict rentals the summer before, but it got nowhere. Cedar Lake proper had about three hundred people, but cottagers came to our store from adjoining lakes in more remote settings. The Findley Store was a fixture in cottageland.

At six thirty, I put the Closed for an Hour sign on the door and went to join my family in the little dining room off the kitchen. Elizabeth was already sitting at the table and Mom was pouring pink lemonade into plastic blue glasses at the counter. I picked up two full ones and brought them to the table before sliding into the seat across from Elizabeth.

“Did you finish reading Love Story?” I asked.

“Uh-huh. I need to find something else to read.”

Mom set a plate of fried chicken on the table. “Why don’t you girls go into Campbellford on Monday and pick up some books at the library? Elizabeth can drive my car.”

“Thanks, Aunt Jan.” Elizabeth made a face at the chicken when Mom turned her back, then put her hands around her throat and pretended to gag. She quickly dropped her hands and smiled at my father when he came into the kitchen and took his seat at the head of the table. Spidery red lines zig-zagged across the side of his face that he’d pressed into the pillow, and his hair was standing up on the same side. Without being asked, Mom took a cold beer out of the fridge and set it in front of him along with a plate of potatoes and green beans swimming in butter.

Dad lifted the beer to his mouth and took a long swallow. He let the bottle clunk on the table and said, “What have you two girls been up to all day?”

Elizabeth flicked a braid over her shoulder. “Just getting settled. I’m thinking of applying for work somewhere, even volunteer. I like to keep busy doing something worthwhile.

Good God, you’re playing my father. “I’ve been delivering food to the poor,” I said.

Dad ignored me and smiled at Elizabeth. “Good. Maybe, you can teach my daughter how to be productive.”

Mom’s hand landed on my shoulder for a second as she walked by. I closed my mouth on what I was about to say. She’d told me often enough that my smart mouth was the reason I got into trouble with my father. It was as if my vocal cords had a brain of their own.

“How did your school year go? Grade thirteen was it?” Dad asked.

“Fine. No problems, but I plan to take a year to do some volunteer work and decide what I really want to study in university.”

My eyes shot over to Elizabeth. Not only are you playing my father, but you’re lying. I noticed then that in a white cotton blouse with her hair braided into pigtails, she looked about twelve years old. She turned to my mother.

“Thank you so much for the great meal, Aunt Jan. Fried chicken has to be my favourite.”

“Why, thank you, Elizabeth. I hope you found your bed comfortable last night. It used to be William’s before he went off to university. We moved it into Darlene’s room because that’s the cooler side of the house.”

“It’s perfect, thanks. Is William coming to the lake this summer?”

“Maybe for the odd weekend, but he got a summer job in a law firm. He can sleep on the pullout couch in his old bedroom when he comes.”

“As long as I’m not any trouble,” Elizabeth said. She winked at me over a forkful of potatoes as if I was in on her joke.

I stared back but pretended I didn’t catch on.

After I’d helped Mom with the dishes and watched a couple of hours of television on our flickering black and white in the tiny family room off the kitchen, I climbed the stairs to bed. I’d thought the day would never end. All I wanted was to be left alone.

Elizabeth came into the bedroom just after I’d turned off my bedside lamp and settled under the covers. She undressed by the moonlight streaming in through the window on her side of the room, then undid her hair elastic to let her blonde hair swing loose. Dressed in baby doll pajamas with her long thick hair shining platinum white where the moonlight touched it, Elizabeth could have been a fairy princess — and me, the ugly red-headed stepsister waiting in the shadows.

When she’d slipped into her twin bed, she called to me in a loud whisper. “Darlene! Are you awake?”

I deepened my breathing and threw in a snore. I opened my eyes a slit. Elizabeth was on her elbow leaning toward my bed, staring at me in the darkness. After a few seconds, she sighed and rolled onto her side facing away from me, moving around the mattress to get comfortable. Then, one more sigh before silence from her side of the room. I kept my breathing deep and loud until I was sure she was asleep. I lay awake awhile longer, watching the curtains rise and fall in the clammy breeze from the open window.