Chapter 28
Chapter 28
In late June, the Halifax Public Gardens were in full bloom. Giant rhododendrons flowered colorfully, fragrant rosebushes abounded, and crowds gathered for live music around the Victorian bandstand. While couples danced on the freshly mowed grass, swans and ducks swam in the murky ponds, in the shade of ancient oaks and gigantic maples.
Early one Saturday afternoon, Emma pushed the pram around the winding paths and marveled at how the onset of summer could inspire new hope. She’d finally received a reply from Dalhousie University with an offer to attend classes in September. Emma had accepted the offer, paid the deposit, and selected her courses with an excitement she hadn’t felt in years—not since she’d first applied, before her father had been attacked by the seal.
She’d been young and innocent then. Ambitious and optimistic. She’d lost that spirit for a while, but it was slowly coming back to her. She loved her children and wanted to give them a good life. She had no husband, but by God, she had a good head for academics, and she wanted to understand the human psyche. Now was the time. She had support from Ruth, who was ecstatic to have children back in her empty house. Ruth and Emma may not have been related by blood, but Ruth was as good as any devoted grandmother could be.
Isn’t it remarkable? Emma thought as she pushed the pram through the wrought iron gate and exited the park onto Spring Garden Road—how life could pitch and roll like a ship on a stormy sea, then suddenly, the sun would come out? Perhaps there might be smooth sailing ahead, in Emma’s future. She’d weathered enough storms.
Walking quickly home from Public Gardens, along the flat concrete sidewalks, she delighted in her increased pulse rate and felt rejuvenated by the fresh summer air. She was out of breath and famished. Thankfully, it was almost time for dinner. Ruth had promised a pot of hearty chicken soup with split peas and potatoes.
Before long, the blue house with the red door was in sight, and Rose was stirring in the pram. She would be ready for a diaper change and a bottle as soon as Emma kicked off her shoes. Then Rose would welcome a retreat to her cozy crib. She was a wonderful sleeper. She’d been sleeping through the night since the second week, unlike Matthew, who had cried and woken Emma for a feeding every two hours from dusk until dawn.
Emma wheeled the pram to the bottom of the steps, set the brake, and bent to gather Rose into her arms and carry her up the steps. She’d just settled Rose comfortably over her shoulder when the front door of the house opened.
Emma looked up, and her heart dropped. She stood on the sidewalk, immobile, staring up at Logan.
“Hi, there,” he said, recognizing her shock.
His blond hair was cut short. He was clean shaven and wore a smart-looking blue-checkered shirt tucked into gray trousers, a dark-blue sports jacket with a zipped front, and a fedora. When her gaze lifted to his face, she saw age lines at the outer corners of his eyes and down the center of his forehead. He looked quite a bit older. Thinner also.
But he was supposed to be in prison.
Emma struggled to find her voice. “My goodness.” She felt completely breathless. “Logan. What are you doing here?”
She’d known nothing about his release. She hoped he had been released. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
“I got out on good behavior,” he explained. “I was out on probation for a while and was finally allowed to leave the province. So I thought I’d surprise you and Matthew.”
Emma nodded, but resented the fact that he hadn’t asked if it was all right to come. Perhaps he’d feared she’d say no. “When did you arrive?”
Ruth appeared in the doorway just then. “Emma. You’re back. Look. We have a visitor.”
Seeing the apology in Ruth’s eyes, Emma took a few seconds to gather enough composure to climb the steps with Rose in her arms, over her shoulder. Logan backed into the foyer to allow her space to enter. She wiped her shoes on the mat, and they regarded each other awkwardly until he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. It shocked her, and she recoiled slightly.
“It’s good to see you,” Logan said.
An uncomfortable silence ensued.
He strained to fill it. “This must be Rose?”
“Yes.” Emma shifted Rose into a cradled position and allowed Logan a proper view of her face.
“She’s beautiful,” he said.
Emma’s stomach tightened into a clumsy knot. She didn’t know what to say or do.
“Ruth told me about Rose and what happened to her father ... the explosion at sea,” Logan explained, strangely calm about the fact that his wife had been with another man—not to mention a man they’d once argued about heatedly in the street. He couldn’t have forgotten, could he?
“I had no idea about any of that,” he added. “Why didn’t you mention it in a letter?”
Emma found it odd that there was no accusation in his voice, only curiosity.
“I didn’t know how to,” she replied. “Everything was always so uncertain with Oliver, and then ... when I found out what happened to him ... I didn’t really want to talk about it. Or write about it.”
Rose began to squirm and fuss, and Emma was grateful for the timely reprieve because this was not a conversation she was prepared for.
“I’m sorry,” Emma said, frazzled. “I need to change and feed her. Will you excuse me?”
“I’ll bring you a bottle,” Ruth offered, and made for the kitchen.
Emma started up the stairs. “I’ll be back down shortly. Um ... please, have a seat in the living room.”
“Take your time,” Logan easily replied as he watched Emma dash up the steps to the second floor.
Ruth walked into Emma’s bedroom and closed the door behind her. In a quiet voice, she said, “I swear I had no idea he was coming. He just showed up at the door, out of the blue.”
Emma finished pinning Rose’s diaper. “Where’s Matthew?”
“Off somewhere on his bicycle. I told him to be home in time for dinner.”
Emma began to dress Rose in a clean flannel sleeper. “What are we going to tell him when he comes home? ‘Hi, Matthew. Say hello to your father. Now go wash your hands for supper.’”
Ruth sat down on the edge of the bed. “Should we ask him to leave and come back tomorrow?”
“Where’s he staying?” Emma asked.
“At a hotel in Dartmouth. He took the ferry across and walked here.”
“How long has he been in town?”
“Since yesterday, he claims.”
Emma fastened the last snap on Rose’s sleeper, carried her to the rocking chair, and sat down. Ruth handed her the bottle.
“Thank you.” She placed the rubber nipple into Rose’s mouth and watched her suck hungrily. It was a welcome moment for Emma to collect her thoughts and think about what was best for her son.
She looked up at Ruth. “I need time to prepare Matthew for this. Will you go downstairs and tell Logan that? Ask him to leave and come back tomorrow morning. And find out what hotel he’s staying at, in case we need to call. Hopefully, he’ll understand.”
Ruth nodded and left Emma alone with Rose, rocking her to sleep in the chair.
Twenty minutes later, Rose was down for her afternoon nap, and Logan had left. Emma went downstairs and found Ruth in the kitchen, stirring a pot of cabbage soup. “Thanks for sending him away. I was so caught off guard, I didn’t know what to say to him, and I don’t want that to happen to Matthew. I want to arrange a proper meeting between them so that he can be prepared.”
“It was a good decision,” Ruth said. “Definitely talk to Matthew first.”
A short while later, as Emma was setting the table, the front door opened and Matthew walked in.
“Welcome home!” she called out from the kitchen.
He kicked off his shoes. “What’s for supper?”
“What, no hello?”
“Hi,” he said, as he entered the kitchen.
Emma laid a cloth napkin beside each plate. “How was your day? Where did you go?”
“We rode our bikes all around the park.”
“You must be tired.”
“Kinda.” He took a seat in his usual spot at the table.
Emma rubbed the top of his head, which only added to the chaos of his windblown hair. Then she turned to Ruth. “When will supper be ready?”
Ruth bent over the pot, inhaled, and gave the soup a gentle stir. “I’d say it needs another five or ten minutes.”
Taking that as a cue to start a conversation, Emma sat down across from Matthew. “Well, since we have some time ... before we eat ...” She nervously cleared her throat. “I have something important to tell you.”
He stared at her with sleepy eyes.
“We had a visitor today. It was unexpected and ...” Emma swallowed uneasily. “I have to admit, I was caught off guard because I hadn’t seen him in a long time and ...”
Matthew propped his elbow on the table, rested his chin on a hand. “I’m hungry.”
Emma reached for the bread basket. “Help yourself to a slice. There’s some butter right there.” She pointed at the butter dish.
While Matthew buttered a slice of bread, Emma waited patiently for him to take a bite, chew, and swallow.
“I might as well come right out with it,” she finally said. “The visitor today was ... it was your father.”
Matthew stopped chewing and spoke with his mouth full. “What? My dad was here?”
Emma nodded.
“When?”
“This afternoon,” she replied. “He left about a half hour ago.”
Matthew stared at her with wide eyes, then threw his bread onto the plate, shoved his chair back, and stood. “Why didn’t you get him to stay?”
Emma’s heart began to beat with a ruckus. She’d hadn’t expected this from Matthew. “Because I didn’t want you to be shocked when you got home. I wanted to prepare you first.”
“Where is he?” Matthew asked, with rising panic. “Can you get him back?”
“Uh . . .”
Ruth approached the table. “Don’t worry, Matthew. We asked him to come back tomorrow.”
“No!” Matthew cried. “What if he changes his mind and leaves? I want to see him! I need to see him now!”
Emma stood up. “He won’t change his mind. I promise.”
“How do you know? You don’t know everything!”
“Matthew . . .”
“Get him back!” he sobbed. “ Please, Mommy! ”
Emma turned to Ruth, who checked her watch. “He was walking to the ferry terminal. If I take the car now, he’ll probably still be there.”
“Yes. Please do that,” Emma implored. “I’ll set out an extra plate for dinner.”
Ruth hurried to the door. “I’ll try my best to catch him.”
Matthew refused to speak. He was perched on his knees on the sofa, his chin resting on his arms on the back cushions, looking out the front window.
Emma joined him and peered up and down the street. “Ruth should be back soon. Unless she drove to Dartmouth to meet him on the other side.”
“You shouldn’t have let him go,” Matthew grumbled, still cross with her.
“I’m sorry, but I was surprised to see him. I needed time to consider how to handle the situation.”
“You think too much,” he replied.
Just then, Ruth’s car appeared from around the corner and pulled up in front of the house. Matthew’s eyes grew wide as saucers.
The passenger-side door opened, and Logan stepped out. Emma sat up straighter on her knees, instantly alert. She was reminded of the day he’d jumped out of the surfboat and landed, for the first time, on the beach on Sable Island. She’d been quite curious that day.
“Is that him?” Matthew asked.
“Yes.”
Within seconds, her heart settled, and she sat back on her heels.
Emma and Matthew watched in silence as Ruth walked with Logan up the steps, and they entered through the front door. Matthew leaped off the sofa and ran to the foyer, where he stood up straight, staring. Logan stared back at him. Emma felt frozen in space and time.
“Are you Matthew?” Logan finally asked.
Matthew nodded.
Logan held out his hand and stepped forward. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you know who I am?”
Matthew nodded again.
“Good. But I need to say it anyway. I’m your dad, which is probably a lot to sort out in your mind.”
“I’ve been sorting it out for years,” Matthew replied. “Ever since Mom told me about you. She read me all your letters.”
Logan met Emma’s gaze. “I’m happy to hear that.” Then he returned his attention to Matthew. “But why didn’t you ever write back?”
“I didn’t know I could.” Matthew shot Emma a heated glare, filled with accusation.
Feeling instantly guilty and defensive, she quickly explained. “I wrote letters on your behalf.”
Logan watched their exchange, then squatted to speak to Matthew at eye level. “Your mom sent me pictures of you, and I kept every single one. But now I’m here in person, so I want to know all about you. Do you miss living on Sable Island?”
Matthew’s face lit up. “No! I never had a bike there, and you can’t play ball hockey.”
“But you must miss the horses and the beach.”
“A little.” Matthew thought about it. “I miss Georgie.”
“Who’s that?”
Emma slowly approached. “Willow’s offspring. Matthew was two years old when Georgie was born.”
“Is Georgie a boy or a girl?” Logan asked Matthew.
“A girl,” Matthew replied with a chuckle. “But we don’t call her a girl. She’s a mare.”
Logan rose to his full height. “It’s good to use the correct terminology. Do you ride her?”
“I used to,” Matthew replied. “Until we left. I hope she’s okay. Grandad promised to take good care of her.”
“I’m sure he will,” Logan said. “You must miss your grandad as well.”
“I do. We want him to come here and live with us.”
Logan turned to Emma. “You don’t plan to return to Sable?”
Before she had a chance to respond, Matthew answered the question for her. “We’re not going back because I’m going to school here in the fall. So is Mom.”
Logan’s head tilted to the side as he regarded her. “You are?”
She waved it off dismissively. “Only part time. Ruth will help take care of Matthew and Rose.”
Logan slowly nodded. “I always knew you’d become an academic one day. I would have put money on it.”
Emma was flattered by the compliment, but that was the extent of it. Her husband’s looks and charm no longer had any effect on her. She certainly had no interest in any romantic entanglements, with him or anyone else.
She supposed she wasn’t the same impressionable young woman she’d been when they’d first met. After everything that had gone wrong in their marriage, and since the news of Oliver’s death, Emma felt as if some of her emotions had gone numb. Or perhaps they’d died with Oliver.
Ruth gestured toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry, Logan? I have a pot of soup on the stove.”
“If that’s a dinner invitation, I accept.”
They all made their way to the kitchen, where conversation around the table was, on the surface, light and full of laughter. Matthew giggled constantly at Logan’s funny faces and his amusing tales of veterinary medicine on the farms of Saskatchewan. The easiness of it all came as a relief to Emma because she hadn’t known what to expect from their first meeting. She was pleased to see Matthew so happy and engaged.
After dessert, when it was long past Matthew’s bedtime, Emma gave him a look. “I think it’s time to go upstairs, young man.”
Logan slid his chair back. “Your mother’s right. I’ve kept you up too late. I assume you brush your teeth before bed?”
“Yes,” Matthew replied.
“Then off you go.”
“Now you sound like my mom!” he chortled.
Logan saluted him. “I’ll take that as a compliment, sir.”
Emma watched their exchange like a mother hawk, protective and on her guard.
“Will you come back tomorrow?” Matthew asked.
“I’ll talk to your mother about that,” Logan replied.
Matthew rose from his chair, hugged Emma tightly, and looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Can you let him come? Please?”
She kissed the top of his head and—for his sake—forced herself to remain friendly and open. “He’s welcome to visit if he wants to.”
Matthew smiled again. “Okay. Good night.” He left the kitchen and ran up the stairs.
Emma and Logan stood for a few seconds in silence, gazing at each other from opposite sides of the table. She found herself observing the fact that even though he was older and thinner, his eyes were still the same.
“Could we take a walk?” Logan asked, catching Emma by surprise.
His request hit the wall she’d recently erected around her heart, which only filled her with regret. So many of her feelings, good and bad, were out of reach. She wished suddenly that she could go back to that day in the rose garden with Oliver, after they’d made love, when they’d walked to his boat and her heart had felt fully open and vulnerable—and joyfully so. She’d never felt more passionate and alive.
Thank God she hadn’t known what the future would bring. Otherwise, she might have put walls up that day as well, like she was doing now, and she wouldn’t have that beautiful memory to remind her that she’d once truly lived and loved.
Ruth stood up and began to clear the table. “Go ahead, Emma. I’ll take care of this and make sure Matthew gets to bed.”
With caution still in her heart, Emma went to fetch her sweater from the front hall closet.
“Thanks for not saying no to a visit tomorrow,” Logan said as he stopped on the bottom step to light a cigarette. He took a deep drag and savored it as he slowly exhaled.
“I couldn’t say no to Matthew,” Emma replied. “He’s been curious about you for a long time.”
“And I’ve been curious about him.”
They began walking down the dark street, past other houses that cast light from their windows onto the sidewalk.
“When did you start smoking?” she asked.
“First week in prison. Not much else to look forward to, except for your letters, of course. I can’t tell you how much I appreciated them, and the pictures you sent of Matthew. It’s obvious that he had a good upbringing on Sable, and I’m sure he’ll look back on it someday with amazement. I feel that way too, when I think about the year I spent there. With you.”
Emma wanted to be positive and agreeable, but she couldn’t keep her cynicism at bay. “You weren’t so happy at the end of it,” she reminded him. “You didn’t enjoy the winter.”
“Only because I knew I had to leave, and I was afraid you were going to find out what I’d done. Which you did.” He took another drag of his cigarette. “That was the worst hell for me, you know—fearing the truth coming out and seeing your disappointment.”
“Worse than going to prison?” she asked with skepticism.
“Ten times worse.”
Though he spoke decisively, she found it hard to believe him.
“What about the research paper we wrote?” he asked, changing the subject. “You never mentioned that you did anything with it.”
“It’s in a box at my father’s house,” she replied. “After what happened, I couldn’t look at it. It felt like a sham.”
Logan grew quiet. “I’m sorry. I spoiled a lot of things, didn’t I?” He tapped his cigarette ashes onto the sidewalk. “But I wonder what you’d think of our paper if you looked at it now. We certainly worked hard on it.”
Emma chuckled. “Who knows? I might think it the worst piece of drivel ever written. What did I know about the world back then? I was a girl with her head in the clouds.”
“That’s not true,” he said, gazing up at the sky. “I’d bet you’d be pleasantly surprised by what you wrote. Now that you’re going to school in the fall, you might meet the kind of people who could help you do something with it.”
Emma considered it. “Sometimes I do wonder ... maybe I just need a bit of a nudge to force me to dig it out of the box.”
Logan nudged her with his elbow, and Emma chuckled.
“Point taken. I’ll write to Papa and ask him to send it on the next boat. Then I’ll read it with a critical eye.”
“But not too critical,” Logan said with a sidelong grin.
They rounded a corner and emerged onto Young Avenue, where grand stone mansions were lit up in the night. Point Pleasant Park, with miles of winding walking paths, lay ahead in the darkness.
“Matthew mentioned he wanted his grandfather to come and live with you,” Logan said. “Is that a possibility?”
“I’m not sure,” Emma replied. “Papa’s been superintendent for so long. It’s in his blood now. Even the loss of his leg couldn’t keep him from doing his job.”
“But it’ll be different for him now, living there without you. And Ruth told me he hasn’t met Rose yet.”
“That’s right. He hasn’t.”
They walked awhile, saying nothing while crickets chirped on the tidy, clipped lawns. An occasional car drove past, headlights beaming.
“Ruth also told me about what happened to Rose’s father, the captain,” Logan said. “You haven’t said much about him.”
“No, I haven’t.”
When she offered nothing more, Logan pressed on. “It must have been devastating.”
“It was.”
They walked to the next intersection, crossed the street, and continued toward the park. Logan finished his cigarette and flicked it onto the street.
“I’m not surprised you were with him again,” he said. “You had feelings for him before, and I suppose I was as good as dead to you.”
“That’s not true,” Emma replied. “You’re Matthew’s father, and it’s clear that he wants you to be a part of his life. I’d never deny him that.”
They continued in silence, taking in the fresh evening air scented with lilacs, until Logan stopped. “Can I ask you something?”
Emma stopped as well and faced him.
“I’m curious,” he said. “Did you always love Oliver, even when you married me?”
Emma glanced toward the darkness in the park ahead. She couldn’t seem to form a response, because Oliver continued to live in a place in her heart where Logan had never been permitted to enter.
“I can’t pretend I’m not jealous,” he added. “But I have to remind myself that you were alone for a long time, and I can’t blame you for giving up on us.”
“I wasn’t alone,” she told him. “I had Matthew and my father.”
Logan nodded, but he seemed unable to let go of the subject. “But you still haven’t answered my question. I want to know about your relationship with Harris. You had his child. Were you going to ask me for a divorce?”
Emma stopped and stood under the glare of a streetlamp. To her surprise, she felt no reluctance about delivering the cold, hard truth to Logan, which was not like her at all. In the past, she’d always tried to be gentle with her words and protect people’s feelings, which sometimes required white lies. But tonight, all she wanted was candor. She wanted to spit everything out, onto the street.
“Yes,” she confessed. “I wanted to marry him. He promised that he’d come back with a ring at Christmas, and if he had, I would have accepted his proposal and asked you for a divorce.”
Logan grunted, as if she’d punched him in the stomach. She felt a small twinge of regret but knew it was nothing that wouldn’t soon recede, and she weathered it with defiance. Perhaps this was a settling of scores for Logan’s betrayal and the pain he’d caused her. He was, after all, the one who’d abandoned her and left her to raise their son on her own. For seven years she did that. Until Oliver came ashore.
“I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear,” she said bluntly, “but it’s the truth. And now that he’s dead, I suppose he’s become martyred, in a way, and I’m always going to consider him the great love of my life.”
It was a cruel addition to everything she’d already said to him. Emma was beginning to worry about herself. Had she lost all sense of compassion? Was she dead inside? Or worse, vindictive? Like Abigail? Was this how it had started for her?
Logan kicked at the moss between the cracks in the sidewalk, then started walking slowly. “Well, then. I appreciate your honesty.”
They reached the entrance to Point Pleasant Park, but it was too dark to enter, so they turned back. Emma tried to resume conversation by changing the subject. She asked Logan about his life in prison. Then they shifted to postwar politics.
When they rounded the corner at the end of Ruth’s street, Logan touched Emma’s arm. “Please. Before we go back ...”
She stopped and looked up at him.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” he said. “I’d even understand if you hated me forever for what happened. But I’d like to be part of Matthew’s life. That’s what kept me going in prison, especially on the bad days, and there were plenty of those.” He paused. “But I wanted to make it to the end of my sentence so that I could meet him and be some sort of father figure to him—and somehow make up for lost time. And for all my mistakes.”
With parted lips, Emma pondered his words and the tone of his voice and her own private resentments. She’d spent the past seven years distancing herself from thoughts of her husband’s suffering. She hadn’t wanted to think about him in prison, so she didn’t think about him at all. It was easier that way—to simply detach.
But now that he stood before her, she felt a light tug.
He was Matthew’s father. He’d once loved her passionately, and she’d loved him equally in return—though it was years ago. Today, nothing was the same. Emma was not the optimistic young woman she’d once been, and Logan was not the man she first fell in love with. But still ... their shared past could never be erased.
“Matthew wants to get to know you,” she said. “And I can’t deny him that.”
Logan squeezed his eyes shut, in obvious relief.
Emma cupped his elbow in her hand. “Come back tomorrow. We can all take a walk around Public Gardens, feed the ducks, and get some ice cream.”
“Thank you, Emma.”
She simply nodded and walked on.