Way to Go (14 page)

“Montreal?” Mom asked as Dad quietly flipped through the brochure.

“JP told me that they accept only twenty new students every year, and it's hard to get admitted straight from high school, but he thinks I can do it. He says I'm good enough, and if I fly up for the audition—”

“There's an audition?” my dad asked incredulously.

“Yeah, well, kind of. You have to go to the school and run through some exercises, and then they do an interview with you. They make you demonstrate techniques and stuff like that. JP told me I can stay with him if I get an interview. In Montreal.”

“Okay, hang on. First of all, I haven't even met this JP guy, and now you're telling me you want to fly up to Montreal and stay with this—this cook, and apply to go to
cooking
school?”

I hadn't expected a quick approval. I'd figured I'd have to warm them up to it, but I hadn't expected this either. I could tell by his tone of voice that my dad didn't like the idea one bit. I was grateful when my mom cut in.

“Joe, hang on a minute. Let's at least find out a bit more about this. Danny, we're just a little bit surprised. This has never come up before.”

“That's because I've never wanted to do anything this much before! I've never wanted to do
anything
before! But I'm good at it. I could be great at it.”

“I'm not busting my ass in the middle of goddamned northern Alberta for eight months a year so you can cook filet mignon for rich assholes in some city in Quebec.” Dad's face was flushed, and one of his hands was gripping the edge of the table.

“I thought you liked the filet mignon!”

“I did like it, it was great! Best steak I've ever eaten, and hopefully you'll cook us more of them someday. But I'll be damned if you're going to take my money and spend it on some fruity-tootie school in Montreal!”

Alma snorted. “Fruity-tootie? Really?” she asked.

“Okay, what do
you
want me to do?” I asked.

“I want you to become a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher. Something that takes brains—something I wasn't smart enough to do!”

“Yeah, because it's all about you. Don't blame me because you lost your stupid job out west!”

“ ‘Gentlemen,' ” said Alma, “ ‘you can't fight in here. This is the war room!' ”

Mom glared at her and said, “Now is not the time, Alma.”

My dad took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, he was obviously trying to control his anger. “Danny, do you think I like those jobs? Do you have any idea why I have to take those contracts in Alberta?”

“Because the bottling plant shut down.”

“That's part of it, but the main thing is that I didn't have anything else to fall back on. I barely finished high school. But your mother and I have sacrificed a lot to raise you guys here.”

“You didn't have to raise us here! This is what
you
guys wanted! Do you think I
like
it here in this shithole?”

I was standing now, and yelling. He didn't know the first thing about my life, but he was trying to tell me how to live. It was total bullshit.

“Trust me, Danny,” he said, “you might think the rest of the world is a lot better than Deep Cove, but it's not. At least here you know where you come from.”

“Yeah, it's pretty shocking that a work camp in northern Alberta doesn't live up to your standards. Thanks for the advice.”

“Hey!” Mom said. “You are both completely overreacting here!”

Dad didn't say anything for a moment. Then he stood up and looked down at all three of us. “You don't think I feel like a failure already?” he said quietly. “You don't think I wish I could go back and do everything all over again? I don't need you to tell me how unqualified I am to give you advice. Do what you want. I could care less.”

He turned and walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him. After a moment, my mom got up and followed him.

“Good thing I didn't tell them I want to be an actress,” said Alma, helping herself to another slice of strawberry tart.

NINETEEN

After the fight, Dad spent most of his waking hours in the garage, puttering around. When we were in the same room, we basically ignored each other.

“So much for family night,” Alma said to me after a couple of awkward days. “It's like
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
around here. Why don't you and Big Daddy just make up already?”

“I've got nothing to say to him,” I told her.

“Suit yourself. For the record though, me and Big Mama think you're both actin' like a bunch of ornery houn' dogs.”

I avoided home as much as possible. Since Lisa was constantly preoccupied with her mother, and Kierce was still out of town, Jay and I had begun hanging out pretty regularly with Maisie and Diana. They didn't have cool stories to tell about trips and concerts, but they were fun and easy to be around.

After the night at the lake, I'd worried that things would be awkward between me and Maisie, but it wasn't like that at all. “Just because you don't want to be my boyfriend doesn't mean we can't be friends, does it?” she asked me, laughing, when I brought it up.

Usually Jay ignored people when they gave him a hard time about smoking, but I noticed that when Maisie listed all the reasons he should quit, he actually seemed to pay attention. She also had some really good advice about how Jay could still finish high school with the rest of us. It turned out that Maisie was full of surprises.

Just when I was beginning to think I'd never spend any more time with Lisa, she invited me, out of the blue, to a party at her aunt's house.

“It's going to be really fun,” she told me at work one afternoon. “My aunt is awesome, and she has lots of cool friends. Best of all, my brother's going to be there. He flew in for a few days. I totally want you to meet him; I've told him all about you.”

Lisa's aunt lived on a stretch of coastal road a few miles outside of Deep Cove. My mom dropped me off at the bottom of a long gravel driveway that was packed with cars. I walked up the hill toward a large wooden house and past a verandah filled with small groups of laughing people.

I found Lisa in the backyard underneath a huge oak tree hung with white lights, talking to a bunch of people my parents' age. She excused herself from the group and came over to greet me.

“Thank god you're here. If I had to answer one more question about my ‘plans for the future,' I would have killed someone. Here, come meet my aunt.” I followed her across the lawn to a tall, graceful-looking woman with an unruly mass of curly gray hair. She was wearing a flowing dress covered with bright multicolored flowers and holding a gigantic wineglass.

“Now who have we here?” she asked.

Lisa introduced me, and we made small talk for a minute before her aunt moved on to greet some new guests. “Lisa,” she said, “please find your mother and tell her to stop hiding inside.”

“Come on,” Lisa told me, “I'll find my mom and then we'll head down to the beach.” I followed her as she worked her way through the crowd toward the house. The back door led into a warm, well-used kitchen. Open shelves lined the walls, stacked high with bright pottery dishes and dozens of wineglasses in all shapes and sizes. Against one wall was a large, rustic-looking wooden table with mismatched chairs pulled up around it, and above it hung a massive abstract painting, the paint brushed and scraped on it so thick that it seemed to jump off the canvas. This was the kind of house I wanted to live in someday.

Lisa led me down a narrow hallway into a dimly lit living room, where scratchy old jazz floated out the open windows. I didn't notice the woman hidden in the shadows until Lisa spoke to her.

“There you are, Mom. Aunt Cheryl is asking for you.”

Lisa's mother was very slight, smaller than either her daughter or her sister, and her face looked tired. She was holding a glass of some sort of dark-brown booze.

“I'm sure she is. Christ, that woman has too much energy.” She laughed grimly and glanced over at me.

“You two are so lucky,” she said to me. “It's such a blessing to be young, with your whole lives ahead of you.” She stood up and walked over to us, reaching up to brush her hand through Lisa's hair. “Take advantage of it while you can.” She gave me a tired but sincere smile.

“That's great, Mom. I always enjoy your life lessons. Now why don't you go out and get yourself some food? People are wondering where the guest of honor is hiding.”

Her mother sighed, “I will.” She turned back to me, her voice noticeably softer. “I'm sorry. It's been a rough year. Lisa, give me one of those cigarettes, will you?” I watched, amazed, as Lisa rummaged in her bag and produced her pack of French cigarettes. My mother would have locked me in the cellar if she'd ever caught me smoking.

“Jesus H. Christ,” said Lisa as she led me toward the front door and down the steps of the verandah. “I'd have introduced you to her, but she wouldn't remember your name.”

Lisa had described her mom as unhinged and bitchy, but to me she just seemed a bit sad but totally pleasant. It made me think about my dad. Was it possible that he wasn't as bad as I thought he was? Was my impression of him as out of whack as Lisa's was of her mom? Or was the truth somewhere in the middle?

I followed Lisa across the lawn in front of the house. It sloped down toward the water and became a field thick with goldenrod, Queen Anne's lace and massive tangles of wild roses. Lisa stopped, reached down into a clump of grass and pulled out a couple of bottles of wine.

“I stole them this afternoon when the party preparations were in full swing.”

She led the way through the field and down a path to the rocky beach, where a whole different party seemed to be happening. A couple of girls were jumping around in the water, and a few other people sat around a pile of driftwood that looked as if it had been prepared for a bonfire. Someone was strumming a guitar, and a bottle of wine was being passed around.

We walked up to the group by the bonfire, and my heart skipped a beat as a tall shirtless guy walked across the beach to us. He was possibly the hottest guy I'd ever seen, tanned and muscular with shaggy red hair, a big toothy smile, and Lisa's perfect green eyes.

“So this must be the famous Danny?” He extended his hand, and we shook. “I'm Will, Lisa's brother.”

He was holding a joint. He puffed on it, then held it out to us. Lisa took a hit and then passed it to me. I hesitated for a moment, then reached out and pinched it between my thumb and index finger, the way they'd done. I'd never smoked pot before, but there was no way I was going to look like a narc in front of Lisa's hot brother. I took a drag and coughed, but managed to pull myself together. I passed it back to Will and felt a charge run down my spine when his fingers grazed against mine.

Lisa dragged me over to introduce me to the rest of the group. Everyone was really friendly, but it was clear from the way they talked that they came from a different world than I did. They spoke about the Ivy League universities they went to and the trips they'd recently taken and the Broadway shows they'd been to. Deep Cove was obviously just a quick side trip in their sparkly lives.

More joints were passed around, along with wine and a bottle of sweet dark rum. Before long, I was pretty messed up. Luckily it was getting dark, and I was able to sit quietly with my back up against a big piece of driftwood.

Lisa was laughing with a couple of girls on the other side of the circle. My eyes drifted toward her brother where he stood around the fire with some of the other guys.

He turned and saw me looking and came over to sit down next to me.

“Man, what a night, hey?” he said.

“You can say that again.”

“So Lisa tells me you're an up-and-coming chef.”

I laughed. “Not exactly. She's got an active imagination.”

“Yeah, well she's got a way of making things sound great, that's for sure.”

I didn't know what he meant. Had Lisa talked to him about me? Had she made me sound like a guy she could be interested in? I didn't care. I was more interested in him after five minutes than I'd ever be in his sister.

“So have you met our mom?” Will asked.

“Yeah, just tonight, up in the house.”

“She's a piece of work. She and Lisa don't get along most of the time, but they're more alike than either of them would ever admit.”

It was none of my business, so all I said was, “How long are you staying?”

“Couple of days. Hopefully I'll get to see a bit of Lisa before I leave. She's a pretty popular girl.”

What was he talking about? Lisa had told me she'd been spending all of her free time at Cheryl's house. If that wasn't true, where
had
she been?

“So you grew up around here, huh?” asked Will.

“Yeah, pretty much. Born and raised.”

“Lucky guy.”

I figured he was joking, but when I looked at him, his expression was sincere.

“That's something coming from somebody who grew up in, like, the coolest city on the planet,” I said.

“Well, I guess the grass is always greener on the other side, right? Big city like that, there's not much time to stop and think. Sometimes it's hard to figure out what's really going on in your head, what you should be doing with your life.”

“Hey, I don't have a clue, and I've got lots of time to think about it.”

“Well, shit,” he said, “there goes my plan to move to Deep Cove and figure out the secret of life.” We both laughed.

Lisa came over and plunked down between us. “Will, are you flirting with my friend?” I blushed at the question, but he laughed at her.

“Lisa, you think I'm flirting with your friends every time I talk to them.”