Chapter 33

“Last night, a fire burned out of control at the Edelburg Residential School. Arson is suspected,” the newscaster read over the radio. I still flicked it on by habit as soon as I came downstairs in the morning. I liked the company. The house felt too big and empty with just me. I put the cereal box on the counter and turned up the volume.

“The building, vacant at the time, was shut down in 1983 after operating as a residential school for First Nations children since 1921. ‘At this time, we are asking anyone with information to come forward,’ says RCMP Constable Miller. This is the fifth case of arson in the Deep River Valley since March.”

The newscaster moved on to a farming report, and I turned the knob so the voice became a low hum. A hard knot formed in my chest. Had Jess set the fire?

The moccasins sat on the counter, on top of the attendance ledger, photographs and letter. I’d planned on returning them to him today. Like the letters Gam had kept from me, all of it needed to go back to where it belonged. I’d never know why Grandpa hadn’t sent the letter and had kept the moccasins. Guilt? Fear? He could have tracked Gus down; they’d only lived a few miles from each other.

My stomach churned. It was time for things to be made right again. No more secrets boxed up and hidden.

But if Jess did have a part in the fire, what then? He was still on probation for the last time he got caught. No judge would let him walk away with community service hours. He’d get jail time.

No longer hungry, I left the bowl on the counter and wandered to the kitchen window. The car was parked on the grass, washed and ready for a drive into the city. Last night, I’d gone to sleep excited about buying my university books, but the feeling was slowly leaking away.

The phone rang and I grabbed it, forgetting that a ringing phone wouldn’t wake anyone else. It was just me. “Hello?”

“Is Sara Jean there, please?” The voice sounded breathy and the words came out quickly.

“Speaking.”

“Oh.” She faltered and her voice cracked. “Sara Jean, it’s Robyn…your mother.” She sobbed the last words, overcome with emotion. I gripped the table and let the words sink in. I had to sit down.

Sniffling, she started speaking again. “Aunt Mim sent me a letter. She told me everything. I had to call to let you know I’m here and how much I want to see you. When you’re ready.”

I sat mute at the kitchen table. My ears strained for the sound of her breath in the receiver. All the things I’d imagined saying to her vanished. “I – I.” I stammered. “There’s so much…”

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s overwhelming.”

“Yeah,” I whispered and clutched the receiver to my ear, desperate to hang on to her. “Gam told me some things just before she…when she was in the hospital.”

“I can’t imagine what it was like, losing her. I am so, so sorry, Sara Jean.”

“She told me you had other kids and that you lived in Winnipeg. All this time, you were so close.” I was surprised at the accusatory tone of my voice.

There was a pause. I’d been a car ride away. In a few hours, she could have been at the front door. What had held her back? Was it really Gam, or was it the simplicity of the life she’d made for herself in Winnipeg? One that would be complicated by her teenage daughter in Edelburg? A flush of anger rose up my neck, and tears prickled behind my eyes.

“I didn’t know if you’d see me. I wrote letters for so long and then…I just couldn’t any more. It was too hard. Never hearing anything back.” She took a breath and calmed herself. “You have a sister and brother. Taylor is eight and Dylan is ten. I hope you can meet them one day.”

“Do they know about me?”

She cleared her throat, “No, I – I,” she stammered an explanation. “They’re too young. They wouldn’t understand why I left you.”

I closed my eyes against her words. That makes three of us.

“I wanted to have this conversation in person, not over the phone.” Her voice was gentle. I wondered if she was a good mother to her children. “Do you think you’d meet me somewhere, for coffee maybe? I want to get to know you. Mim says you’re an amazing, kind, beautiful girl.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. I could hear the pain in her voice. How many times had I wished for my mom to say those words? “I’ll think about it,” I said. “You know, I’m the same age as you were when you had me.”

“I know.”

“I know how Gam could be. And what it’s like in Edelburg. But you had a choice. You should have fought harder for me.”

“I know,” she whispered.

There was nothing more to say, not right now. “I’ll think about it, meeting you. But –”

“Okay,” she interrupted, quick to agree. “Anytime. Or another time on the phone, we could talk. Get to know each other.” There was hope in her voice. “Can I give you my number?”

A lump rose in my throat as I wrote it down.

“Good-bye, Sara Jean,” she said.

“Bye” My breath stalled in my throat. What should I call her? Mom? Robyn? The quiet dangled between us until the dial tone sounded in my ear. My breath came in shaky spurts after we hung up. I stared at the paper with her number on it, letting the sound of her voice echo in my head.

Mim arrived a few minutes later, punctual as always for her nine a.m. check-up on me. “Morning,” she said when she walked in. “Sara Jean?” she asked, taking a second look at me.

No point in hiding the truth from her. She’d probably pull out a forensics kit, looking for answers anyway. “My mom just called me.”

Mim pulled out a chair and sat across from me. Her bare legs squelched against the vinyl seat. “That’s great!”

“You wrote to her?” I said, my voice heavy with accusation.

She met my eyes. “I had to. I never should have let her leave.”

“It wasn’t up to you.”

“But she’s your mother!” She stared at me incredulously.

“It’s my decision! All my life I’ve done what Gam wanted, living here, in this town. I’ve been trapped in this house for eighteen years, looking after her! Let me have a taste of what it’s like to make my own decisions.”

Mim puckered her mouth and raised her eyebrows at me. I had never raised my voice before, but it felt good, as if the chains that bound me were being loosened.

“I was trying to do what was best for you –”

“Like Gam?” I interrupted. Mim bit back whatever else she was going to say and stared across the table at me. “I don’t need you to take over for her.”

“Fine,” Mim said. She started to fidget. “I have to get to the grocery store. Tomatoes are on for ninety-nine cents a pound. I’ll pick some up for –” She broke off. “Never mind” She looked bothered. “I guess I can be a bit overbearing.”

“I’m going to the city to buy my books today,” I told her as she opened the screen door.

“Oh?” She turned back, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “You didn’t say. When did you decide that?”

I sighed. “Does it matter?”

“No. I guess not.” She came back to the table, grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. Her pointy, painted nails grazed my wrist. “So that means…” She let her voice trail off, drawing her own conclusions.

I nodded. “School starts in a week.”

Mim raised her eyebrows, giving her head a little shake. She didn’t look upset, just surprised. I caught myself before I apologized. It didn’t matter if I disappointed her. I was finally making choices for myself.

“Call me when you’re home. I want to hear all about it.”

“I will,” I agreed and glanced at the clock. “I should get going. Long drive.”

The screen door clapped shut after her. In front of me was the phone number. I picked up the pencil and wrote Mom above it and stuck it to the fridge with a magnet. My chest swelled with emotion as I stood in the kitchen, staring at it.

You are alone.

Not any more.