When it comes time to make decisions, there are options. Robert’s mother passes away in a hospital in Brantford. With the money she left him, they can buy a bigger house in St. John’s, buy it outright. Imogene won’t need roommates; there’s an apartment in the basement they can rent out to help pay the bills. And Nan, still too nervous to drive. And Trudy, busy with grandchildren and the business. So Nan can go to town with Imogene. Closer to Uncle Kenneth, close to major medical centers. Easier for Maggie to fly in and out.
“No way,” Nan says. “I’m fine here. I have my house, I have Eli and Trudy.”
“But Trudy and Eli have so much on the go with Rita in school. She doesn’t qualify for student aid,” Maggie says. “And Steve just got engaged. And the club is always high or low. Eli says the building needs a new roof and he might go out to Alberta for a bit.”
“Never mind any of that, I’m staying.”
And then in June the doctor says Nan has gout and type-two diabetes.
“Now your eyesight is in even bigger danger,” Maggie says.
“Half of St. Felix’s got the diabetes,” Nan says. “It’s like it’s in the water.”
Maggie and Robert buy the house and Nan keeps refusing until July when the fishery closes. The TV is footage of fishermen with defeated faces and symbolic empty boats. She’s gone, b’ys, she’s gone, the new catchphrase of the economically betrayed. It all makes Imogene want to be gone even more and it’s just a matter of time now. Trudy and Eli talk about working in Alberta. The Sampsons might have to give up the store. The Coishes have family in Ontario who can help them get set up. Liam and Randy Lundrigan’s mother boards up the house and takes the bus to somewhere, all at once, without telling anyone.
Trudy and Eli have Nan and Imogene over for supper. “It won’t be so bad, Agnes,” Trudy says. “You’ll have Kenneth and Imogene to help you in St. John’s.”
“What do you mean?” Rita says. “You’re going to St. John’s?”
“Sure, that was decided ages ago,” Nan says. Rita gets up from the table and goes into her room.
“You could excuse yourself,” Uncle Eli says. “This isn’t a cafeteria.”
The next day, Rita shows up at Imogene’s, stomping full force up the driveway with the wind at her back. Imogene is making piles: stuff for St. John’s, stuff for the dump. Rita’s bottom lip points at Imogene like an indignant slug. “So. When were you going to tell me?”
“I thought you knew.”
“You said you were going to Grenfell.”
“I never said that.” Imogene selects sheets of newspaper for wrapping up glasses. “We’re getting rid of some of the dishes,” she says. “Take the ones in this box if you want.”
“We’ve been talking about it since before Christmas.”
“All you said was that you wanted to move out of residence and get a place where Nick could come over.”
“Yeah, for the three of us.”
“But I like the school in St. John’s.”
“Since when?”
“I’ve mentioned it before. And Maggie and Robert have gone to a lot of trouble. Why don’t you just live with Nick?”
“Mom and Dad’d have a hernia.”
“So, find another roommate who doesn’t care if your boyfriend is over all the time.”
“Who am I going to find? It’s August now.”
“Can you get someone off a bulletin board or something?”
“Immy, this is real fuckery.”
“Why did you think this was going to happen? With Nan sick? Maggie got us a house in St. John’s.”
“So? You don’t have to do the same as them.”
“I want to. Honestly, I don’t like Corner Brook anyway. I’d rather get farther away.”
“What’s the point if you’re still living with your grandmother?”
“What’s the point if you and Nick are just going to go home every weekend?”
“You’re fucked in the head. You act like you’re miserable and then you make sure your living situation doesn’t change. You’re going to be in St. John’s surrounded by snot-nosed townies who think they’re better than you.”
“Right. Much better to stay as close as possible to this hole.”
“Oh, because you’re better than us? God, Nick was right about you.”
“Right how?”
“The way you never go out. Or talk to anyone. You and your clothes and your trips. You think you’re better than everyone, even though Maggie gets you all that shit out of guilt.”
“That’s what Nick says, does he? Well, guess you better believe him.”
“Well, I didn’t, but now I’m thinking he’s right.”
“And I guess it’s never occurred to you that some people have more ambition than to stay in their mommy and daddy’s village and suck Nick Cleary’s dick at every opportunity.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
The rage is high in Imogene’s temples now. She feels like she could levitate on her own steam, high above Rita’s blow-dried head. “Like I would want to be around you two tools any longer than I already have.”
“Whatever. Good luck with Nan’s shitty diapers.” Rita grabs her jacket from the chair and thrusts her arm into it. There is a high ripping sound. “And now you made me tear my new Nike coat.”
“You’re welcome. It’s ugly anyway.”
“Liam was right. You got a real mean streak in you.”
When Rita stomps out, the wind catches the door. It slams extra hard.