Gord was in a prickly mood. I could sense it as soon as I walked through the polished teak doors. The whole mood of the place was off. I had a nose for that kind of thing. When you move from one shitty foster home to another you become an expert at reading the mood of the people in a house, at sniffing out danger.
I’ve been in many abusive households. Seen it all. The way a woman jumps up from the couch when her husband comes in, because she doesn’t want him calling her a lazy slut. Or the way she hovers round the dining table, not tasting a bite until he takes the first and nods his head or grunts to let her know it’s okay for her to sit down and eat. The way members of a family touch or don’t touch each other. When a father or stepfather’s hand lingers too long on his daughter’s hip or when a mother’s fingertips dig into her toddler’s arm leaving angry red splotches. The way the tendons in Lester’s neck used to tighten up when Patti started moaning about her back pain. Or the way Lester walked past our bedroom in his raggedy boxers, stroking his crotch when Patti was passed out cold on the living room couch.
When you’re immersed in all that, you learn to make yourself so small you’re almost invisible so you can blend in with the furniture. That’s the only way to survive. I was an expert but Birdie hadn’t mastered the art of disappearing. Until later. When there was no other option.
The first hint of discord was Nancy’s swollen eyelids. Either she hadn’t slept or she’d been crying. As usual she was immaculately groomed and still greeted me with a kiss on both cheeks. But she was jumpy around Gord, as if she was deliberately trying to keep space between them. Her bright smile looked forced and weary and her fingers bunched up on Guy’s shoulders as she clutched him just a bit too tightly. Gord, meanwhile, was on overdrive. He wrapped Guy in a fierce embrace that almost knocked the wind out of him, then he placed both hands around my waist and placed a long, damp kiss on my cheek. I pulled away, fighting the urge to slap him, but he was already on his way to the kitchen.
“Get some drinks together, Nancy. We need to celebrate the arrival of our newest team member.”
She scurried by him but not before he reached out and grabbed her ass in his hand, squeezing so hard she cried out. I glanced at Guy who glared at his father with burning eyes.
“Dammit, Dad – Anna’s here,” he protested.
Nancy froze rigid to the spot until Gord let go, a mischievous grin on his face. “Chill out, son. My wife may be well past fifty but she’s still got a great ass. I’m a lucky man.” He delivered a parting slap to her rear as she scuttled out of the way, then glanced around at us. “C’mon – loosen up you two. Oh no. Have I offended the professor?”
“Cut it out, Dad,” said Guy, moving away into the living room, but Gord followed like a hound scenting blood.
Gord filled the doorway, his face flushed with drink. His eyes fell on me. “Anna, you’ve got a sense of humor, unlike the other ghosts in my family. They wouldn’t know a good time if it stood up and smacked them in the face. As the Brits say, they couldn’t enjoy a piss-up in a brewery. At least I think that’s the saying.” He frowned as if searching for the right words. “But I’ll bet you’ve seen a bit of action in your time.”
I looked at Guy, trying to get a cue from him. What to say? How to respond? And what exactly did he mean by the last comment?
“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart, or has the professor briefed you already on how to deal with his vulgar clod of a father?”
Guy moved forward as if to shield me. “You said we were coming here to celebrate, Dad. You could at least be nice to Anna.”
Gord reached for his half-finished drink and swigged it back. Then he held up a hand to his mouth in fake surprise. “Oh dear. Better show some penitence. Take a hundred lashes. Or maybe I might enjoy that too much.”
A sudden, loud crash from the kitchen had Guy and me up and out of our seats. We rushed in to find Nancy on hands and knees trying to pick up shards of a broken wine glass with her bare hands. A pool of white wine was spreading across the floor tinted with the pale tinge of blood. Her shoulders shook as she struggled to contain the mess.
Guy swept over and pulled her up. “Mom. Stop. Get up.” He cradled her in his arms.
I yanked some kitchen towel from the roll and wrapped her hands. Tiny dots of blood soaked into the white. “It’s okay. Just minor cuts.”
Nancy was almost hyperventilating. “So clumsy. Don’t know what happened.” Her eyes darted to the doorway. Gord stood there. Eyes widening in horror.
For a moment they stared at each other. The silence quivered.
Suddenly his big body seemed to deflate, all the bluster fizzling out of him like a burst balloon. Nancy pulled herself away from Guy and walked towards her husband. She reached for his arm, gently steering him to the couch where he sat, legs splayed, head bowed. We all held our breath, watched and waited until he finally raised his head, then held her injured hands and kissed them.
“I’m a bad drunk,” he said, looking directly at me with baleful eyes. “Been under a bit of stress lately with all this funding bullshit. I hit the scotch too early. Nancy warned me to go easy, but of course I never listen to her. I should, I know I should. She’s my guiding star. I just don’t appreciate her enough.”
He reached for her, nuzzling his head against her waist. I could swear she stiffened at first then took a deep breath and ruffled his hair. Peace was restored for now as Guy and I went to clean up the spill.
Supper went without a hitch. Gord sobered up, then slipped back into professional mode, outlining the data gathering techniques and focus groups I’d be involved with once I joined the project. Everyone was relaxed and loose until the coffee arrived. The cocktails and wine had loosened my tongue enough for me to blurt out, without too much warning, that Guy really wanted to opt back into the homeless kids’ education project. Then all the goodwill fled, as if I’d wiped a whiteboard clean. Gord’s face was tight with anger.
“So you’ve been whining about me behind my back instead of facing me like a man, son?” said Gord, his face contorted into an injured expression.
I gulped, feeling suddenly stone cold sober. “Actually I brought it up, Gord. I know how passionate Guy is about the program.”
Guy was already glaring at me and Nancy’s hand hovered in the air, holding the cream jug.
“I should get a refill,” she blurted, but Gord’s hand clamped down on her wrist and she sank back into her chair.
“Anna, my darling daughter-in-law. You must learn very quickly if you want to get along with this family that charity and passion don’t pay the rent. Guy’s condo, his import car and your designer wardrobe are out of reach on a professor’s pittance. He knows and Nancy knows that you don’t get all that from doing goddamn charitable deeds for deprived street kids. All this good stuff comes courtesy of my goddamn business savvy.” He spat the words out as he jabbed at the side of his temple with his forefinger. “Capiche.”
My mouth was dry. I nodded. He wanted to own all of us. Guy and me included. Suddenly he reminded me of Loni who’d sunk her talons into Birdie and never let go until she’d dragged her away from me. I dug my fingernails into my thighs just to let the sharp stab of pain bring me back to the present.
“I put a lot of work into setting up that project, Dad,” said Guy. “I just wanted to keep in touch with Brian – get some updates, that’s all.”
Gord glared at me, then reached for the Drambuie and poured a glass. As he sipped, the anger seemed to drain away. We all held our breath.
“Okay, I guess that can’t hurt. But keep it at arm’s length, son. Karrass advised us not to get in too deep with those kids. Too many problems. All kinds of liabilities and too many other do-gooders with fingers in the pie.”
“Karrass?” I blurted, unable to stop myself. Gord glanced over at me, squinting as if to measure up what I knew.
“You know him?”
I shrugged. “Not really. But some of my students may be on his caseload. Down-on-their-luck teens looking to make money from unsavory characters down by the riverbanks.”
Nancy’s face almost went purple and Guy choked on his coffee. Gord’s eyes flicked back and forth between them. He fixed a forced smile on his face.
“Please keep that to yourself, dear. Peter is a respected social worker. I’m sure he wouldn’t choose to be referred to as the old guy working the underage hookers.”
He winked at me and my stomach lurched. But I forced a fake smile and busied myself stacking dirty plates. Gord stood up, beckoning for Guy to join him in his study for a private word. Nancy silently cleared off the supper dishes, her bandaged fingers waving away my offer of help. I sat there wondering exactly what I’d stirred up with my impulsive comments.
Before swishing off into the kitchen she’d passed me the TV remote and curtly ordered me to put my feet up since I’d been at work all day. I guessed she was still embarrassed about Gord’s ass-grabbing exploits and the kitchen incident, so I flipped through the channels unable to settle on anything but the Shopping Channel where someone was trying to push today’s showstopper product – a ninety-four-dollar, nine-piece, skin hydration set.
I was just considering the idea of pulling out my credit card and ordering a set when Nancy bustled back in to collect the dirty serving dishes. She mouthed everything okay at me and I nodded. Leaning my head back against the couch I put the sound on mute and closed my eyes. Let my mind wander to thoughts about Colby and Birdie. Always Birdie.
Colby actually came through with a rescue plan in the end. Reid, one of his gamer buddies, had his own house with a spare room that he was willing to let Birdie and me stay in until we got ourselves sorted. All we had to do was find the right time to sneak out with our few belongings. Birdie said she was working on her own escape plan and didn’t need my help, but I convinced her Colby and his buddy would come through with their promise. We just had to wait until Patti and Lester were both out of the house, which was virtually never, since Patti was a permanent fixture on that grungy couch.
She sometimes ventured out for medical appointments or when the two of them made a trip to the Treasure Island Casino just outside of the city. But the last time they’d gone, they must’ve lost a bundle because they came back yelling at each other, then slammed the front door so hard the walls shook. We ate instant noodles for days after that.
That entire week after Colby came up with the escape plan, I stuck close by Patti and Lester, listening in to their conversations by pretending to do homework at the kitchen table. I checked out the calendar on the fridge to see if Patti had scrawled down any appointment times.
By that time Patti had slipped into her usual lethargy and had lost interest in forcing medication down Birdie’s throat. Instead she shoved the pill cup into my hand and told me to give her the damned shit instead. So I switched Birdie’s pills for junior aspirins and vitamin capsules that I jacked from the drugstore. I wanted her alert when the time came. There’s no way I could drag her drugged body from that apartment. So after a few days Birdie’s head cleared, but it seemed like our plan was on hold until I could get Birdie to school with me and Patti and Lester wouldn’t allow that.
I went to find Colby at the mall to tell him I still didn’t have any idea when we could leave. But really I just wanted to see him and touch him. Since the incident under the bridge we’d acted like there was an electric force field between us. At school when our fingertips touched, jolts crackled across our skin. Our desire for each other was almost palpable, a shimmering wall of sweaty teenage hormones.
On the way to the gamers’ store I spotted Lester who was working a lot of overtime – probably to fund their escalating drug habit. I caught him with his sweaty face pressed against the window of Toonz, his breath fogging a small circle on the window. Not wanting him to spot me, I hid around a corner. He checked to see both directions were clear before he slid into the store and made his way to the counter where Earl Rafferty was perched, chatting like a madman into his cell phone. Lester loomed over him, his shoulders hunched. Earl broke off the conversation and nodded his head towards the back room. Lester plunged through the curtain into the darkness of the cubicles. I was so focused on him I almost jumped out of my skin when two cool hands clamped across my eyes.
“Doing some secret surveillance?” said a familiar voice. I whirled round to find Colby grinning at me. My heart did a somersault. I was burning for those hands to be all over me, but all I could do was swallow and make lame excuses.
“Just checking Lester out. I think he’s jerking off to porn at Earl’s place.”
“Perv. People like him should be banned from fostering kids,” he said, digging his hands into his pockets.
“I haven’t found a good time for the escape plan. Patti never goes out. But it needs to be soon so let’s make it Wednesday.”
Colby reached a hand out to twirl a long, ragged tendril of my hair. I’d just started letting it go wild. He leaned close and whispered in my ear. “I’ve been thinking that when you’re at Reid’s I can spend some nights with you. I sometimes stay there at weekends. Especially when my dad has people over. Imagine what it would be like to hold each other all night and wake up together.”
Back then I thought this was true love. The warm, slow burn in my lower body that made me squirm with an urge to run round in ever-decreasing circles until all that excess energy was used up. Then the seedy mall became a magic place, its graffiti-covered hallways and grimy corners filled with the hiss of whispered promises and the memory of breathless groping.
I clung to Colby’s hand. “I can’t wait till Wednesday.”
He glanced around. The mall was filling up with last-minute shoppers. Office workers dropping in before starting the long commute home.
He bent his head downwards and kissed me on the mouth. Our teeth thunked together and we pulled back laughing. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly, slipping my tongue into his mouth. The taste of gum and sweet saliva made my skin tremble.
“You’re so hot, Anna. I can’t wait until you’re at Reid’s house. In the meantime I got something for you.”
He reached into his pocket. “Here. Read this,” he said, taking out a dog-eared paperback. “It’ll turn you on.”
I checked out the cover. Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller.
“It was banned everywhere when it came out. You’ll soon find out why. Just don’t show any teachers you have it.”
Stashing the book in my backpack, I glanced through the window of Toonz to see if Lester had surfaced. “Must be watching a double feature,” I said, pushing my hair away from my eyes.
“Maybe he couldn’t get it up for the first one,” said Colby, trailing a finger down my arm. “See you at school?”
I nodded. How could I tell him that wildfires, tornadoes, even alien invasions wouldn’t stop me from getting there to see him?
That night I could barely concentrate on my homework. Just the idea of hatching a real plan to get away from Lester and Patti had me perched on the edge of my seat in a permanent state of readiness. As if I could spring up and run five miles without stopping. But I couldn’t forget about Birdie. Somehow I had to be able to get her up and out of that house before Lester took those few steps across the bedroom threshold while I was away at school and took everything from her.
And I knew it was only a matter of time before he did.
“Do you take sugar in your coffee?” said Nancy. I blinked my eyes and snapped back to the present. Tuning into the past was becoming a habit. Images slid in and out of my consciousness until I barely knew what was real. And I had no idea how I appeared to other people around me when it was happening. Was I just sitting there staring into space? Was I was even talking to myself like a crazy person?
“No – thanks, Nancy,” I said, taking a long sip. I could feel a jolt from the caffeine filtering into my brain.
Nancy sat on the edge of her chair occasionally glancing at the door. I recognized the posture. I’d sat opposite Lester and Patti that way, carefully monitoring their voices, gestures, tiny movements. Always watching, testing the mood, training myself to spot the first sign of trouble. My body was exhausted by the time they stuck a joint under my nose, forced me to take a couple of hits then said get lost and go to bed and check on your sister.
Correction. They didn’t have to strong-arm me to smoke weed.
I was craving it by the time it got round to me.
The skunky sweet smoke was the only thing that took the edge off my constant state of tension.
“Don’t let Gord get to you,” said Nancy. “Most of the time he’s pretty accommodating. He just has this need to feel like he’s in control. Make him believe he’s running things and he’s like putty in your hands. Then you can basically get on and do your own thing.”
“Is that what you do?”
She tilted her head. “Do what?”
“Let him think he owns you?”
She opened her mouth to respond but the office door burst open and the two guys strode out.
“Time to go, babe,” said Guy. I tried to read his face but he wasn’t giving me anything. What plan had been hatched in that office between father and son? And when would Guy fill me in on it? I wondered then where his loyalties really lay. If it came to some vital life or death business decision would he choose Gord over me? That familiar sense of precariousness caused me to stumble against the chair when I stood up. Guy’s eyes flew over to me.
“You okay?” he mouthed.
I nodded just as Nancy stood up to immediate attention and Gord wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She didn’t lean in towards him until he squeezed her close. It was like watching an intense war of wills that Gord inevitably won.
“So don’t forget Thursday night,” he said to Guy.
“What’s happening Thursday?” I said.
Gord shook his head and grinned. “Just a guy thing, Anna. One of our programmers is getting married and we’re having a bachelor party.”
“I’m an unwilling guest,” said Guy. “I’m not a fan of all that beer and male bonding garbage.”
“What did I tell you, Anna? My son is a wuss. He’s afraid of letting loose and enjoying himself. But you’ll change all that. Help him man up. I have high hopes.”
We drove home with Guy barely saying a word and later, when we tried to make love, he stopped halfway through and said, I’m sorry, I can’t, leaving my frenzied body screaming for release.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the night sounds and wondering exactly what Gord was up to and how it involved Guy.