FIFTEEN

July 2, 2012

4:41 p.m.

The house Mathieu had lived in growing up, his grandparents’ house, was in Orleans, on the east side of Ottawa. He remembered coming here after the death of his parents and feeling uncomfortable at first, not really knowing his grandparents except for the short visits a few times a year. He hadn’t wanted to be there. But his grandmother had been so good and loving, helping him through those horrible first few months, and what he remembered most now was that his childhood had been filled with warmth, love, and plenty of fun times. He could almost hear his grandmother puttering in the kitchen, humming while she baked pies and made wonderful meals, or calling out to him to come and get the garbage bag and take it to the garage. He could hear her throaty laugh filling the house when she was watching one of her TV shows. The small bungalow had always felt just a bit too small, but today it felt big and empty without her.

Mathieu went to the kitchen and took an apple from the crisper and devoured it. Then he cracked open a can of Coke and downed half of it. He heard his grandfather, who had fallen asleep on the sofa chair a while back, stir.

“Mathieu? You still here?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen,” he said and walked back to the living room at the front of the house. “I thought I’d let you catch a few winks. You probably didn’t sleep much last night.”

“I did have a hard time settling down without your grandmother here. That’ll take getting used to.”

Mathieu drank his Coke. “Will you be all right?”

Grandpa stood and stretched. “I’ll miss her. I’m sure some nights will be harder than others. But I’ll be fine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I don’t have a choice, now do I? Your grandmother, God rest her soul, is with the good Lord now and not much I can do about it.”

“Aren’t you angry, even a bit?”

“I’m angry that I won’t see her every day, sure, but angry at God? No. He gave her, us, a good long life.”

“He took so much from you though.”

Grandpa looked at his grandson. “I know where you’re trying to get to, but you won’t get there with me. For every test that He put in front of us, we did our best, we kept our faith. In the end, that’s what He’s testing us on. Our love and our faith.”

Mathieu frowned. “I don’t see it that way.”

“I know you don’t, son. Can’t make you believe something you’ve closed your mind to.”

“He took my parents and my little girl. Not sure what sort of faith I’m supposed to show Him. Not a big fan of His methods.”

“Maybe you should come to church with me on Sunday.”

Mathieu shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“It might help you let go of your anger.”

“Maybe my anger is what keeps me going.”

“And maybe it’s holding you back.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Sometimes, we just have to accept what is and go on. Your grandmother is gone but I’ll always have sixty years of memories to keep me company.”

“You can’t hold memories, tell them you love them, have them tell you they love you too.”

“No, you can’t. But torturing yourself isn’t going to bring your daughter back. Her memories can guide you forward but they shouldn’t keep you hostage. And you shouldn’t keep Lori-Anne hostage either.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Nothing that I can’t figure out for myself. Your marriage is in trouble, anyone can see that. It’s time to let Nadia rest in peace, like I’ll be doing with your grandmother, and pick up your life. You lost your daughter and if you don’t smarten up, you’ll lose your wife too.”

Mathieu put his empty Coke can on the coffee table. “Sorry, Grandpa, I don’t want to pick a fight with you. Certainly not after Grandma just died, but maybe that’s my business.”

“You’re my only grandchild, and I love you but I see a man who needs help, in the worst way. I see a wife who keeps trying but is looking rather beaten. You need to talk to her. If you can’t talk to her, then the two of you need to see someone who can help.”

“So now you’re ganging up on me too about the stupid counselling?”

“I’m just trying to make you see what you can’t see. Son, I don’t like where you’re headed. I think it’s time to get help.”

* * *

Mathieu kept to the speed limit and took the long way home, stopping for gas even though he had half a tank left. He was trying to digest his grandfather’s words before he got home and faced Lori-Anne, words that wouldn’t leave him alone because he knew there was a lot of truth to them. The one thing his grandfather couldn’t know though was how hard it had become to forgive Lori-Anne.

They wouldn’t be in this predicament if it wasn’t for her careless driving. It’s not like he was looking for just any reason to blame her. He really didn’t want to blame her. But no matter how he looked at what had happened, it was hard not to blame her.

But he wasn’t without blame either. Maybe if he’d paid attention that day he would have noticed the snow beginning to fall and told her to take the Pathfinder instead of his car. Things like that he was usually right on top of, but he’d been so into his work that he hadn’t noticed the weather. He’d just been thankful Lori-Anne had come home early to take Nadia so that he could get another couple of hours work done. So, he was partially to blame, but he hadn’t been the one behind the wheel.

Mathieu pulled into the driveway and saw that Lori-Anne’s car was gone. Relief made him exhale the breath he’d been holding. He still wasn’t sure what he would say to her but for now he needn’t worry. Maybe by the time she came home things would be clearer.

He stepped out of the truck and glanced at the overgrown shrubs. The lawn could also use a cut. Chores he’d tended to like clockwork in the past had slipped his mind lately. The day wasn’t too far along, maybe he’d go change into his work clothes and spend a couple of hours doing yard work. Didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Mathieu wiggled his key in the front door lock, the humidity making it stick. He’d have to put a little WD40 in it. He put his key ring on one of the hooks by the front door, beside the key that used to be Nadia’s. He forced himself to look away then headed for the kitchen. A growl in his stomach was supported by the clock on the stove which indicated it was 5:44. He’d have a quick bite to eat before getting to his chores.

The kitchen was spotless. There was a bit of coffee in the carafe but otherwise the granite counters were bare and there were no dirty dishes in the sink. Mathieu cracked the fridge door open and peeked inside. Nothing appealed to him so he settled for scrambled eggs and toast. He took his dinner to the kitchen table and sat down to eat. There was a note tucked under the glass vase sitting in the middle of the table: I’m so sorry about everything.

His fork was halfway to his mouth but he stopped and put it down. He pushed his plate away, his appetite suddenly gone. He took the piece of paper in his hand and read each word. The note made him feel uneasy, like a cold hand around his throat.

He was pretty sure Lori-Anne had gone to her parents. But now he wondered if it was just to clear the air or if she was gone for good?

I’m so sorry about everything.

There was something definitive about those words, almost goodbye-like. He didn’t like it. He had to talk to her, find out what was going on. He knew he’d been difficult, more like impossible, to live with over the last few months, but it had never occurred to him that Lori-Anne would leave.

I’m so sorry about everything.

Mathieu pulled his cell phone out and dialed Lori-Anne’s number. He hesitated before pressing the send button. Maybe he should go over there. No, he couldn’t bear to see his father-in-law, especially after the old man’s visit.

Just then the grandfather clock bonged six times, reminding him of Samuel. Mathieu got off his chair so fast that it toppled over. He grabbed the clock in a bear hug and carried it out to the garage, not noticing the two garbage bags by the door, and dropped it onto the cement floor, shattering the glass.

“Here’s to you, Sammy boy.”

Mathieu went back in the house and picked up the kitchen chair. He grabbed his phone and texted Lori-Anne.

What do you mean by your note?

It took a couple of minutes before he got a text back, long enough that he started to worry about how mad she’d be when she saw the grandfather clock.

About what I did.

The accident could have happened to anyone.

True. But that’s not it.

I don’t understand.

You will. Just know that I thought it would help.

You don’t make sense.

I know.

Are you coming home?

Ask me later.

What does that mean?

You’ll see.

I guess you’re at your parents’?

Yes. How’s Grandpa?

Better than me.

It’s a different loss.

Maybe, but I’m sure it still hurts.

Of course. But I think he might have been expecting it, especially since Grandma’s first stroke.

I guess.

No other text came back right away. He stared at his cold eggs. His stomach grumbled but he was too wound up to eat.

Aren’t you coming home?

Ask me later.

You keep saying that.

I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can right now. I’ve done things I’m not sure you can forgive me for. Bye.

The conversation was over. He stared at his phone but no other text came. She couldn’t come home and kept apologizing, but why?

He got up, threw the eggs in the compost bin and put his glass of milk in the fridge for later. He stared out the kitchen window into the backyard. The play structure had outlived Nadia. It didn’t seem right. He remembered how he and Grandpa had built it over an April weekend when his daughter was just a couple of months old. Lori-Anne and Grandma had made burgers for lunch. He could see Nadia’s smiling face when she was about fifteen months and he’d pushed her on the swing for the first time.

The mood to do yard work was gone. Maybe he’d go up to his office and look at pictures of Nadia for a while. It would be nice to see her beautiful smiling face.

Mathieu laboured up the stairs. When he reached the top, he looked back down. He could partially see into the living room where the grandfather clock had been. He had no idea how he was going to explain that to Lori-Anne. The moment had seized him and before he realized it, the grandfather clock was trashed. She’d be pissed with him for a while. Not much he could do about it now.

He turned and saw that Nadia’s bedroom door was wide open. He was sure he’d left it closed. He always left it closed and Lori-Anne never went in.

I’m so sorry about everything.

He took a couple of steps on liquid legs.

Just know that I thought it would help.

Mathieu stood in the doorway. His jaw muscles twitched and he felt his anger slam hard against his rib cage. “Lori-Anne,” he said between clenched teeth. “Lori-Anne, what have you done?”

He stepped into Nadia’s room and felt nothing. He surveyed her room and there was a sick feeling down in his lower stomach, like someone had kicked him in the balls. Everything that had defined his little girl was gone. There was nothing left. Nadia was completely gone.

Lori-Anne had taken his daughter away a second time.

How could she do that?

Why would she do that?

He could never forgive Lori-Anne now.

Mathieu left the room, closed the door gently, and walked down to his office. He sank into his high-backed leather chair, grabbed the mouse, and started looking at pictures of his daughter. There were thousands on his computer.

That was fine, he had all night.