Chapter 40

Maggie

“Pépère and I were driving on a gravel road. It had stormed the day before and the road was full of potholes. Pépère had to drive along the shoulder to stay clear of them. That was when I spotted something in the ditch. At first, I thought it was a dog and asked Pépère to pull over. I jumped out of the truck and made my way down into the ditch to where she was, this little brown thing, curled up into a ball.

“I bent down to get a better look. Her eyes were open wide and she was shivering. ‘It’s not a dog,’ I shouted to Pépère. ‘It’s a fawn!’ Pépère came to have a look. She wasn’t a newborn, but she was very young, still had her white spots. I crouched down and let her sniff my hand. ‘Something must have happened to the mother,’ I said.

“She didn’t try to run, maybe because she was too weak or too scared, so I reached out and touched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t flinch. Her hair was velvety soft but her nose was dry as a bone and I said so to Pépère. She was going to die if we didn’t feed her.

“I could tell Pépère didn’t like the idea of interrupting the natural course of things. ‘We can’t take her with us,’ he said gently.

“‘Why not?’

“Pépère ran a hand over his chin. He did that a lot when he was thinking about something. ‘She’s a wild animal, Josephine.’

“‘So’s Henri,’ I pointed out. ‘At least he was until you took him in.’

“‘He’s a cat. This is a deer.’

“‘She’s going to die if we leave her here,’ I said again. I stroked her head and she looked up at me, grateful. With her legs curled under her she didn’t look any bigger than Henri. ‘I’m not going without her,’ I said.” Mrs. Fradette shakes her head. “I meant it too. Poor Pépère. He didn’t stand a chance.

“Pépère sighed. ‘All right. Can you pick her up?’

“I nodded and put one hand under her neck and the other behind her legs. She didn’t weigh much—she was all legs. I could feel her heart fluttering a mile a minute. Pépère opened the gate to the truck and helped me up. I sat down and held the deer in my lap. Weak and scared, she didn’t stir once.

“‘I’ll go slow,’ Pépère said. ‘Hold on.’” Mrs. Fradette sits back, a faint smile on her lips. Maggie doesn’t say anything, letting her enjoy the memory.

“When we got home, Pépère went inside and explained to my mom and Mémère what had happened. Mom came out of the house shaking her head at me. But Mémère brought a bowl of milk and lay it on the veranda. I carried the deer up the front steps and sat down with her. She settled against me like she was my own child.

“I pulled the bowl of milk closer. Mémère knelt down and showed me how to dip my finger in the milk and hold it to the fawn’s mouth to give her a taste for it. It wasn’t long before she was sucking the milk off my finger.

“‘Josephine,’ my mom warned. ‘It’s not staying. Don’t get attached.’

‘She’ll be less work than Michel,’ I said. ‘Anyway, there’s no fence back here. She’s free to go when she’s strong enough.’ Oh, I was a sassy thing, wasn’t I?” Mrs. Fradette looks at Maggie, who smiles and nods in confirmation.

“I named her Peggy. Leggy Peggy was what Pépère called her. I didn’t go into the garage that day. I was content to sit out on the veranda nursing her back to health. She made little mewling noises while she slept and tucked her nose under a leg, curled up as tight as can be. I already felt like I was her mama.”

Maggie thinks back to Harvey’s puppy days, when he was still so new and she was responsible for keeping him safe and fed and warm.

“I didn’t want to leave her alone when night came, but Mom insisted I sleep inside. I packed a quilt around her for warmth, even though I was sure she’d be gone in the morning. But when I woke up, there she was! Sleeping on the veranda, just where I’d left her.”

“She didn’t want to leave,” Maggie says, smiling.

Mrs. Fradette nods. “After a few days, she was strong enough to drink on her own. Pépère figured she was about two weeks old by the way she was starting to forage. She’d follow me to the garage sometimes and chase moths in the field. That was how Norm Lacroix found out about her.”

Maggie’s mouth tightens at the mention of Norm Lacroix, the boy who threw the rock at Henri. She waits for more, but Mrs. Fradette lies back on her pillow and lets out a long breath, as if she’s just run a marathon. “I’m a little worn out today.”

“I’ve kept you talking too long,” Maggie says guiltily.

“It’s not your fault. I’ve just got an old motor. Besides, I like telling these stories. It’s good to remember the good and the bad.” Mrs. Fradette sits up and swings first one leg, then the other to the ground. It’s an action that Maggie could do in one smooth motion, but for Mrs. Fradette, it requires effort. “I think I’ll go lie down.”

Maggie stands up too and takes Mrs. Fradette’s arm, even though she hasn’t asked for help. Together they walk into the bedroom. On the bedside table is a glass of water and a wedding photo in a silver frame. Maggie lowers Mrs. Fradette to the bed and covers her legs with a quilt.

“You’re a kind girl, Margaret. Thank you.” Her eyes are closed before Maggie leaves the room.

In the hallway, Maggie looks again at the photo of Mrs. Fradette and Peggy. Something about the way Mrs. Fradette is telling the story makes Maggie think it’s not going to end well for Peggy. She made a comment about remembering good and bad memories; and that horrible Norm Lacroix is back too.

With a final glance at the photo, Maggie heads to the library, thoughts of Laurier, a twelve-year old Josephine, and Peggy dancing in her head.

 

 

When Maggie gets home from Brayside, she heads to her room with Harvey at her heels. He curls up on her bed while she sits at her desk and turns on her computer. She’s researching garages in the 1950s. Only a few minutes later, she gets a text.

Who wants to go to Tubby’s tmw? Lexi’s text reads. Tubby’s is a pizza place and the hangout for St. Ambrose students.

Bri replies Yes right away, but Maggie stares at the text, hesitating. She knows she should be relieved to be included.

She’s part of the trio again. But if she goes she’ll miss the surprise party for Austin’s grandpa at Brayside. After typing up the letters and seeing how much he means to the residents, she doesn’t want to miss it.

And trying to explain that to her friends, who already think she’s weird for enjoying her time at Brayside, feels impossible.

So, instead of responding, she turns her phone over and ignores the text. It’s cowardly, and she knows it. A voice that sounds an awful lot like Mrs. Fradette’s tells her if they are really her friends, they’ll understand, but another voice reminds her that she’s already on shaky ground. Another misstep and she’ll tumble off the ledge. Maggie sighs. It’s a no-win situation. She glances at Harvey. He’s curled up on her bed with her sock in his mouth. He worked hard to yank it off her foot and now won’t let it go. She wishes her life could be as worry-free as his.

Her phone beeps with a text. Are you coming or not? It’s from Lexi but in a group chat with Brianne.

IDK, Maggie replies.

Why not?

I might have other plans.

Maggie hesitates before pressing the send button. It’s a lame reply, vague. Would Lexi press her for details? Or leave it alone?

Lexi: OMG. Not the old people!

Brianne: LOL. Would you like us more if we had walkers?

Lexi: White hair?

Brianne: Adult diapers?

Lexi and Brianne think it’s a joke. They have no idea what it’s like hearing Mrs. Fradette’s stories. If they did, they wouldn’t make fun of her. Maggie tosses her phone on her bed, narrowly missing Harvey. He sits up, startled.

Is she being too sensitive, or are they being hurtful on purpose?

They’d invited her to join them, but she doesn’t feel part of them the way she used to. Maggie realizes the truth of what’s bothering her, and it has nothing to do with their comments. Maybe she’s outgrowing them, and not the other way around.