18

Della and sage seldom discussed politics and instead favoured discussions about the weather. Sage had strong views on the news, which he watched religiously, and Della wasn’t interested in most of what went on in the world if it took place outside their house and yard. Hart had an opinion on most things, so Sage kept his sparring tongue in shape around the hearth at Fort Whoop, but he and Della had an unspoken pact, the foundation of which was silence.

Not long into Sadie’s first day in Fernie, Sage realized an unending source of debate had taken up residence in his house. The following day, he agreed they could drive Sadie up into the mountains because she wanted to see mountains, and he offered to drive because he enjoyed the company of his sister-in-law. Stacey agreed to go because she wanted to hang around her aunt.

The capitalists of the world need to slow down, Sage said. Most of what he said he repeated from what he’d heard in the news or at work, but this statement, possibly just worded differently, might have been original. Everyone is too greedy, he added. Last year there was a big Expo on in B.C. showing off the latest and greatest of everything we have, and soon after, there’s a stock market crash that left millions out in the cold. And who’s to blame?

There may have been a miscalculation on the pace of growth, Sadie said. It’s hard to pin the blame for something like that on anyone in particular.

There’s a beautiful lake coming up just around the corner, Della said. It’s so pretty this time of year.

I’ll tell you who’s to blame. You’ve got Mulroney running this country, and you can’t tell that man anything he doesn’t want to hear, you’ve got a woman running things in Britain, enough said, and the Americans call an actor who eats jelly beans and falls asleep in meetings their leader.

President Reagan eats jelly beans? Stacey said. I like black jelly beans.

Della kept her focus on the vista passing by out the window.

It’s important to consider where you put your money, Sadie said, her tone of voice informative, as if aimed at reaching out to someone who understood what she meant and might be open to refining his strategy. Sage hung on her every word even though he’d never had money to invest in anything and his only assets were a small house in Fernie and a ten-year-old car.

Marvin used to say people always buy staples and scandal.

Why would people need to buy staples? Della asked.

Staples as in basics, Sadie said. Bread and milk and chocolate keep on selling. And anything that will take people’s minds off their troubles: movies, sports, magazines. When hard times come, the liquor stores hardly notice a difference.

Here it is, Della said. This is the little lake I was telling you about. Pull over, Sage. We can get some fresh air.

The four of them got out and walked around the edge of Maiden Lake. At one point, Sadie asked that they sit down on a park bench and listen to the silence. They drove on through the mountains, and Sage showed everyone his favourite fishing spots along the river. They took a short hike to Fairy Creek Falls, but it took a while because Della didn’t bring hiking shoes. There was a lot to show people who weren’t used to mountains, and Stacey absorbed the beauty through her aunt’s eyes.

Della wasn’t keen on discussing the Jimmy Baker scandal, but Sage wanted to. Jimmy Baker had given religious enthusiasts a bad name, and it was one of the year’s events even Della had heard about.

Everyone blames Jessica Hahn, Sadie said. She wasn’t the only one, and his wife was sniffing out territory of her own. What paved his way to prison was ripping people off for investing in something that didn’t exist. I mean, have you ever watched that show they had? Tears and emotion and crass begging. How could anyone fall for such a thing?

It surprised Sage to find a topic where Sadie’s views matched his own. I couldn’t have said it better, he said.

There are bad people everywhere if you look hard enough, Della said. Our minister isn’t like that at all, and I plan on attending church service tomorrow morning the same way I do every week, and anyone’s welcome to join me. Our minister knits in his spare time.

I didn’t know Reverend Munson knits, Stacey said. What does he knit?

I have no idea what he knits. Ask Molly. She’d know.

They got back home, and Della said she felt tired. Sage said he wanted to discuss something with Hart, and Sadie said she’d join him. Sadie insisted she take them out for dinner later to thank them for showing her around. Della tried to protest out of a sense of politeness, and Sage came to her rescue and said it would be a great idea. Della sometimes didn’t mind that her husband smoked dope. It made him easier to deal with than when he drank. When stoned, he forgot some of his objections about life. She lay down on the bed to read and fell asleep thinking of Tammy Baker. Stacey rode her bike over to Morgan’s house. She felt bad that she had missed most of the Environmental Club meeting, but Aunt Sadie was only in town for a while.

They went to the New Diamond Grill for dinner, and Hart and Molly the Nose tagged along. Stacey and her Aunt Sadie took forever getting ready, delayed by a lesson on subtle makeup application. For a reason Della couldn’t fathom, Sadie found Hart worth talking to. Over dinner, Sage, pale from having drunk himself under the table the night before, and who knew nothing about actuary tables, had to work at poking his views into the conversation while Della sat back and took everything in. Her sister was older now, but not much had changed. Della had never acquired Sadie’s ability to act so easily around people she barely knew, but Sadie knew just when to laugh, sometimes a laugh of approval, other times more as if she were laughing off what had been said to steer the conversation in a direction that suited her needs. If she didn’t find the conversation engrossing, she would stare off into the corners of the restaurant, whether or not any artwork decorated the walls. She had complete mastery over the inevitable and predictable ebb and flow of conversations across the table, conversations of which she knew the choreography as if she’d planned it out ahead of time. Sadie had always liked having people around, the more the merrier. It seemed natural, now Della thought about it, that she had moved on to live the life of a social convener in a series of cruise ships.

You came by bus, Molly the Nose said. She wasn’t the only one trying to figure out how a woman who arrived in town on a milk-run bus had the money to foot the bill.

I did. It’s a scenic drive, and I met some fine people on the bus. I met a man from Oshawa who’s been married four times in four different countries. If you want to meet people, hop on a bus that takes a long time to get where you’re going. That’s the ticket.

Does that mean you don’t drive?

Oh, I drive back home all the time. My car is getting a paint job this week, so what better time to get out of town and track down my long-lost sister?

It must be a special car to get it repainted, Sage said. Did you have an accident?

No, thank god. It was Marvin’s favourite car, a Mercedes convertible. Before he died, he made me promise not to sell it, but I figure he wouldn’t have minded my painting it. It’s a somber blue now, and when I get back it will be racing-car red.

I wish you had it with you, Stacey said. I’ve never ridden in a convertible before.

Well, maybe you can come down to San Jose and visit your aunt next summer. Maybe we can plan on doing just that. What do you say, Della? Let the girl see another part of the world?

When they had eaten dinner and were waiting for the bill, Hart said he knew how to bend a spoon using only his mind. He balanced a spoon on top of his wrist and closed his eyes and waited. Everyone else at the table waited too, for several minutes, but the waiter arrived with the bill, and the spoon had done nothing but offer a nervous wobble. Molly the Nose never laughed out loud, at least in public, and she wasn’t laughing now, but her serene smirk resonated with satisfaction. This spoon’s not made with real silver, Hart said, and dinner officially ended.

Sunday they all lazed about, with no concrete plan in place. Sadie phoned the bus depot to ask about the bus schedule. She planned to bus her way to Vancouver then fly home from there. She didn’t mention when she might leave, and Della didn’t want to ask. Despite her happiness that Sadie had shown up, Della wanted her to leave—or maybe she just expected her to leave because of their history growing up, when Sadie rarely stayed round the house and left as soon as she could.

An odd sense of expectation could be felt not only in the house but in the valley. A chill permeated the air even in the slanted sunlight, but with snow still a few weeks away, they enjoyed this intermittent season that required something between short-sleeved shirts and winter coats, a wardrobe many stocked sparingly. Most of the migrating birds had left, but others hung around for the last few reasonable days before following their natural instincts to a world in which they belonged. Stacey hung around the house and contemplated starting an important assignment for school, and Della decided to make a pie. Sage asked Sadie if she wanted to go fishing. Stacey hoped she’d say no, but she said yes, and since Sage only owned two rods, that meant she would be left out of the picture. She had been looking for a good reason not to tackle her school project, and now she didn’t have one.

Della was glad to have Sadie out of the house. She could get housework done and make a nice Sunday dinner without having to listen to an analysis of everything wrong with the world. Something odd was going on with her sister, and she couldn’t figure out what it was. When Sadie described her life in California, it sounded extravagant, almost beyond anything Della could imagine, and yet she seemed tentative about leaving. Sage had asked Della to go fishing a few years back, and she’d said no. Maybe, in his desperation to share his fishing passion with someone, anyone, experienced or not, he would show Sadie a good time.

Around two, just as Della was about to consider what she’d cook for dinner, Sage and Sadie returned with two cutthroat trout, one huge one and a smaller one that Sadie had landed. Sadie wanted to eat them, and Sage said the two fish would be enough for four people if he ran out and bought buns to go with it. Sadie suggested the four of them play a game of poker, a phantom game of high stakes, with coins from Della’s penny jar worth a hundred dollars and the buttons from her sewing hamper worth five hundred dollars. Stacey didn’t have a clue how to play but desperately wanted to be included, so they gave her a brief lesson and a cheat sheet of the most powerful poker hands. Sadie and Sage claimed to be experienced players. Della imagined that Sage had played some poker over the years, but no one had played cards much around her house growing up. The stakes were that the two with the least money by four o’clock would cook dinner and clean up afterwards. Della thought this reasonable since she’d already baked a Saskatoon berry pie. Because Stacey was new to the game, no one ever believed she held a strong hand, and Della instinctively bluffed well, so by the time four o’clock rolled around, Della and Stacey sat in the living room watching a movie and Sadie and Sage had some decisions to make.

What do you want us to cook with the fish? Sage asked.

Doesn’t matter to us, Della said. It will be good whatever you decide.

Dinner turned out burnt but delicious, and after everyone escaped to the living room, the world felt sad. Sage enjoyed having someone new in the house, and Stacey kept pleading with her aunt to reconsider and stay a few more days, until Sadie said she’d give it some thought. Della wondered if, once she left, she’d ever see her maverick sister again. Della’s spirits lifted when she thought about a plan she wouldn’t mention to anyone for now, one that would see Stacey go to San Jose to visit her aunt, with Della along for the experience, while Sage stayed home to fish for a week. She wondered if people walked over the Golden Gate Bridge or only drove over. She wanted to ask but couldn’t, or Sage would catch wind of her thoughts.

At bedtime Sage wasn’t tired and went for a walk. He didn’t go far, just walked around and around the block for an hour, restless. When he got home, he sat at the kitchen table and had a beer. He heard an owl in a tree in the backyard. The house was still, everyone asleep, he thought, Stacey on the couch and Sadie in Stacey’s bedroom.

But Della lay awake, on her back, staring at the ceiling. She heard Sage get up from the table and open the door to Stacey’s bedroom. His opening and closing of the door was deft and confidential and different from the sounds she heard after she turned over and buried her head in her pillow.

Everyone went back to their routines the next morning, except Sadie who didn’t seem to have a routine of any kind, but she said she would stay one more night. Stacey looked happy and said she’d get home from school as soon as possible. She wanted to get Sadie alone somewhere and hear what she had to say about going to the nudist colony as a kid. Sage said he had a big day of planning at the mine, and since he was posturing himself as a candidate for the management team, they expected him to attend meetings all day long and into the night if necessary.

The sound of three young kids running around soon filled the house. To avoid looking her sister in the eyes, Sadie stood with a cup of coffee in her hands, staring out the window at the impending death that comes with fall.

I’m sorry, Sadie said. I’m sorry about—

Nothing much has changed, Della said, not looking up from folding laundry. You are who you are, and that’s all there is to say about it.

Sadie looked around for something she could help with, and finding nothing, she said she would go for a walk. Less than an hour later, she returned and packed her suitcase, then called a cab. If I catch the bus that leaves in an hour, it will be quicker, she said. If I wait until tomorrow, the bus doesn’t leave until ten at night. I should have brought you something from California. I’ll send you something in the mail when I get home, she said.

Where’s Aunt Sadie?

What are you doing home so early?

Last class was meetings about school spirit. I wasn’t in the mood. Where is she?

She left you a note. She took a taxi to the bus depot. I’m sorry Stacey, but that’s the way it is with your aunt. She’s restless and doesn’t stay in one place too long. You could never rely on her growing up, and that part hasn’t changed one bit. She isn’t one for dwelling on goodbyes.

But she said she would stay one more night.

I know. I heard her. I tried to convince her, but it’s hard to convince your aunt of anything. No one knows better than me. Your aunt Sadie always knows when it’s time to leave. At least you got your bedroom back.

I’ll miss her, Stacey said. She was fun to be around. Maybe I can go visit her next year. She said I was welcome.

We’ll see. It might be nice. Things can change in a year.

Stacey turned on the TV and found the note wrapped in a half-bottle of Giorgio perfume. She read her aunt’s note. It was short. No one can live your life but you. Keep your chin up, kiddo!