Family Secrets (2 page)

           
There was a sudden vibration of hollow, uneven footsteps on the dock. Slowly, I turned to see my grandfather leaning heavily on his cane as he paused and caught his breath… fixing me with his basilisk glare. He was all on his own. It was a mystery how he’d made it down the steep lawn from the cottage without help, but there he was. I suppose if he put his mind to it and had a pressing enough purpose, he could still summon up some of his past farmer’s strength in his wasted limbs. I was trapped. The dock was narrow, and there was no way I could get past him if he’d wanted to stop me. I couldn’t move.

           
Grandpa shuffled toward me and lowered himself into a lawn chair just behind my back. He was less than an easy cane-length’s reach away from me. I could smell his stale denture breath as he grumbled something incoherent to himself, his dead eye glazed and watery…
 
and his good eye blazing with unmasked hatred. Coughing, he cleared phlegm from his throat and spat. His mouth twitched as he formed his next words--taking extra care with his accent so I’d understand.

           
“We need to have a wee chat, lass.”

My gaze froze on his hand clutching the cane: his bulging arthritic knuckles were whitened with his tight grip and his wiry arm was tensed--ready to lash out. I didn’t wait to be shoved. Leaping to my feet, I half-dove, half-fell into the water and started to swim away from Grandpa as fast as I could. In hindsight, I know that I should’ve simply made my way close along the shoreline and then walked back up to the cottage through the trees, but I was far too frightened for rational thought. I headed straight out toward the middle of the deep lake in a fast but awkward front crawl.

           
I grew weak. The water was getting colder the further out I went. Struggling to stay afloat, I spun back around to see how far I’d swum. Grandpa stood on the very edge of the dock. Raising his cane, he slowly waved it at me--was he waving for me to come back, or just waving goodbye as I drowned? I was shocked at how small and distant he looked. I’d never been out so far before, even with a paddleboard or an inflatable rubber tube--and never all alone. As the remaining strength drained from my chilled limbs, I lost my grip on the surface of the lake and went under. The water was a dark murky-green beneath me, fading down and away into a depthless black. I started to panic and splutter, gulping water instead of air as I thrashed to regain control.

           
"Hang on, Jill!"

           
Robert was suddenly there like a miraculous vision, tossing me a life ring from the rowboat. I hugged it to my chest and rested my chin on it to keep from going back under. He threw me a rope then he and Tom towed me back toward the small sandy beach beside the dock. Tom stayed with the boat as Robert helped me walk to shore through the last few feet of water. My parents ran down the hill carrying towels and blankets, with Benny leading the charge, barking all the way. I was shaking and coughing so hard that I could barely stand upright. My teeth wouldn’t stop chattering as Mom draped a towel over my back and Benny jumped up and licked my face.

           
“Oh honey--are you okay? What on earth happened, Robert?”

           
“I don’t know. I didn’t see. Tom and I found her ‘way out in the middle of the lake.” Robert was pale and shaking quite a bit himself. Dad squeezed his shoulder.

           
“Well, thanks kiddo--sure am glad you guys spotted her when you did.”

           
As Mom rubbed me down with the towel, I managed to find my voice.

           
“I wanna go home.”

           
“Aw, sweetie. You’ve had a shock--it’s okay. It’s a long drive to start now. We’ll go first thing tomorrow morning.”

           
My eyes burned and welled up, overflowing hot tears onto my cheeks.

           
“No. I wanna go home
now
.”

           
Mom cast a look at Dad. “What do you think, Dan?”

           
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. If we get going in the next hour, we can be back by ten or so. I think Jilly just wants to be in her own bed tonight, right hon?”

           
I nodded. No way did I want to be sleeping next door to Grandpa again.

“Poor Jilly,” said Dad. “Put your arms around my neck, honey. I’ll carry you back up to the cottage.”

Benny stood stiff-legged on the log steps leading down to the dock, growling deep in his chest. As Dad lifted me, I shot a look back over his shoulder. Grandpa was slumped over snoring in the lawn chair… pretending that he hadn’t just caused me to nearly drown.

           
Knowing no one would believe me, I didn’t tell my parents what I really thought had happened. I’d jumped. I hadn’t been pushed. How could I explain how I felt when I didn’t have any real proof or a witness? Luckily, I didn’t have to see Grandpa again that summer: I missed the August family visit to the cottage while I was away at camp. Thanksgiving was never a big deal for us as an extended clan. We’d all just have a turkey dinner with our immediate family and alternate hosting Grandpa so he wouldn’t end up on his own for the weekend. That year, turkey duty fell on Uncle Chuck… and that meant it was our turn to have everyone over for a big family Christmas dinner, and then Grandpa would stay for the holiday break. He’d be under our roof for at least a week and I didn’t see how I could manage to avoid him in such tight quarters. My lucky streak had run out. It would be the longest week of my life… if not possibly the last.

 
It was five days before Christmas. Mom, Dad and I spent the afternoon fighting crowds at the mall. I was not in my usual holiday spirit: I didn’t line up to sit on the fake Santa’s lap for a photo, and barely touched my hot chocolate in the food court. I leaned my chin in my hand and slumped over the Styrofoam cup, poking at the skin forming on the cooling surface with a plastic spoon. Mom peered at me over her coffee.

“You okay, Jilly? It’s not like you to turn your nose up at anything chocolate.”

“Just don’t feel like it.”

The mall was noisy; full of shouting kids and toddlers pitching fits. The piped-in carol music was grating my nerves. Mom put a hand on my forehead.

“You don’t have a fever.”

“Are we done yet? All this noise is killing me.”

“Well, ‘bah humbug’ to you, too! C’mon, Jill. Christmas is supposed to be fun,” said Dad with a grin. My eyes threatened to well up. Mom noticed and took Dad’s hand.

“Well, I’m done my shopping, and it’s already dark out. Why don’t we go take a drive around town and look at all the Christmas lights?”

Soon, I was in the backseat, halfheartedly staring out the window as Dad drove us around the downtown light exhibitions and looped the winding streets of the more wealthy outlying neighbourhoods. My parents seemed in high spirits, gazing at the garish displays on all the big houses. I didn’t care, but at least I wasn’t stuck in the mall anymore. I shut my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat.

“You’re sure quiet back, there. How ya doin’, kiddo?”

Actually, I wasn’t doing well at all. How could I even begin to explain? Before I could answer, Mom piped in. “I think she’s asleep, Dan. The mall must have worn her out.”

“You wanna go home?”

“No. Just let her rest a bit longer. This is nice. Besides, I need a breather before we head back. I have a lot of baking to do yet, and I haven’t even started cleaning the guest room.”

“How long is your Dad staying this year?”

Mom didn’t answer right away.

“Yes, well… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

 
“Sounds serious, babe. What’s up?”

“Dad looked so frail in the summer.”

“That’s not a surprise, hon. He’s had two strokes over the past year, remember?”

Still feigning sleep, I strained to hear their voices over the car radio. Robert had been right: this seemed the perfect way to find out about stuff the grown-ups didn’t want us kids to know. As if reading my mind, Mom suddenly turned down the music.

“Exactly. I don’t like the thought of him all alone up at the farm over the winter. I’ve been thinking we should ask him to stay on with us until spring.”

I bit into my scarf to keep from crying out.

“You really want to do that, Cheryl? Chuck is just over on the next concession from your Dad. He checks in on him a few times a week.”

“That’s not the same as having someone around all the time. What are you saying? That I should just leave him to cope on his own?”

“He’s always managed before.”

“Yeah. Before he started having strokes.”

Mom paused for dramatic effect. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure they’d hear me. Dad heaved a sigh.

“Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just that he’s a bit… set in his ways. It might not be easy having him under the same roof for that long.”

“I know he’s not the most cuddly old man in the world, but he is my Dad. And Chuck and Bill would never think to take him in. They don’t seem to see just how weak he’s been getting.”

“Yeah. You are definitely the soft touch in the family!”

Their voices lost their argumentative edge and my stomach lurched. I didn’t like where this was going at all.

“Are you sure, Dan?”

“I’m sure. Give him a call when we get home. Who knows? He may not even want to, anyway. You know how stubborn he can be.”

“True. But at least I’ll know I tried. Thanks, sweetie.”

The small amount of hot chocolate I’d had at the mall burned like acid in the pit of my stomach and the back of my throat. Somehow, I made it home without throwing up in the car.

Dad ordered Chinese food when we got in, then parked himself on the couch in front of
It’s a Wonderful Life
while Mom got on the phone. I sat on the stairs listening… hoping against the odds that Grandpa would turn down her kind offer.

He didn’t.

“You will, Dad? Oh, that’s great. It’ll be a nice chance for you and Jilly to get to know one other better. You don’t see each other nearly often enough.”

Beside me on the stairs, Benny nudged his head under my arm and whimpered. He knew something was wrong. I sunk my hand into the thick black fur on his neck for comfort.

“Yes, she’s here… sure. Just a sec--Jilly! Come down here!”

Slowly, I entered the kitchen. Mom held the phone out to me with a smile. I kept my hands pinned to my sides.

“Here--take it, silly Jilly. Your Grandpa wants to talk to you.”

“H-hello?”

“Looks like you ‘n’ me are gonna be spendin’ lots of time together.”

“Uh… yeah, I guess.”

“You didn’t say goodbye up at the cottage that day. Fact is, we never proper got ‘round to that little chat I was after havin’--did we, now?”

My mouth dried up.

Grandpa chuckled with a nasty rattle in his throat. I could make out a sneer in his voice.

“You never have much to say, girl. That’s fine. I got plenty to say to ye. And we’ll be sure to find a chance for a quiet conversation. Just you ‘n’ me. Eh, Jilly-Belle?”

“Here’s Mom.”

I thrust the phone back at her and raced upstairs, nearly tripping over Benny. I made it to the bathroom just in time before I threw up.

The final days before Grandpa was due were a nightmarish blur for me. There was no way I could keep away from Grandpa for months at a time--not with his guest room right next to mine. Mom and Dad slept clear down at the other end of the hall. They might not hear in time if he came into my room one night for our ‘little chat’. I was doomed. We never went to church when I was a kid, but I prayed to God at bedtime anyway… just in case He’d listen.

“Please, God. I know I’ve never spoken to You before, but I really need Your help. Uh… or maybe Jesus could save me… ”

It was pointless. Why should They care about me? My parents had me baptized, but that was about it as far as me and religion went. I’m sure Jesus had better things to do for His birthday than worry about some little girl who didn’t believe in Him.

Rising from my knees, I looked up at the wall over my desk at a framed photo of Grandma Annabelle and my Mom when she was about my age. Belle gazed back at me with her sad, dark eyes. Maybe she would hear me.

“Please, Grandma. Don’t let him hurt me like he hurt you. I’m so scared.”

On Christmas Eve, I was still lying awake as the clock in the front hall chimed eleven o’clock. My aunts and uncles, Robert and our older cousin Sheila and her new husband were all due the next day at noon. Uncle Chuck was driving Grandpa down from the farm. Downstairs in the living room, my parents sat by the Christmas tree, wrapping some last minute presents and watching the news. The phone rang in the kitchen downstairs.

           
"Who’s calling at this hour?" I heard Dad say as he went to answer. Moments later, I heard him call out to Mom in an urgent voice, and her footsteps hurried to the kitchen. I sat up in bed and strained to hear what they were saying, but I couldn't make out their words. Suddenly, Mom gave a cry. I jumped out of bed, went downstairs to the kitchen and peered around the doorway. Dad was saying 'goodbye' in a quiet voice. With a grim expression, he hung up the phone and sat with his arm around Mom’s shoulders as she huddled over the table. Her face was hidden in her hands and she was weeping. I subtly cleared my