Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
The following morning at five to nine, there was a knock at the door and Sarah opened the door to Sally, who wore shorts, a T-shirt, and a huge smile.
“Good morning,” said Sarah. “We’re almost ready to go.”
“Dad told me to tell Riley to bring a hat too,” she said, pointing to the fishing hat on her head. “And to say he’s got sunscreen in the car if you need it.”
“Come in for a moment,” said Sarah, ushering the girl inside. “Riley! Sally’s here.”
She heard Riley run across floor above and then turned to see her rushing down the stairs. “Hi,” said Riley.
“Do you have your things?” asked Sarah. “Sally reminded me you should take a hat.”
“A hat?”
“Take the old baseball cap of your father’s from the closet.”
“Oh, the Canucks hat?”
“Yes, that one. It will keep the sun off your face.”
“Come on,” Riley said to Sally, dropping her backpack on the floor beside Sarah. “You can help me find it.”
“I’ll put our stuff in the car and be back in a minute,” said Sarah, hoisting Riley’s backpack and her own filled with water, a towel, and sunscreen.
“Good morning,” said Simon, getting out of the car and coming to greet her. “Let me put these in the back.”
He took her bags and stored them in the trunk, leaving Sarah to reflect that it would be nice to have this kind of help sometimes.
Graham had never been particularly helpful with day-to-day tasks—he was always working late hours, planning for the future.
She had loved that about him, how he would plan for what their life could look like.
He had encouraged her to continue on to a legal career and helped her see them owning a house together, building a future.
But the trouble with always planning for the future is that you forget to live in the present. And with children, you had to live in the present too.
Maybe now that he was expecting a second child, Graham would change his ways. Or maybe he wouldn’t. What he did was no longer her concern, except when it came to Riley.
“Are the girls coming?”
“Yes. They’re looking for her hat. Thanks for this. It cheered her up after the disappointment of not seeing Graham this weekend.”
“She told me she’d never been crabbing, so I thought she might like to come.”
“I wish I had more time to plan these things,” said Sarah. “It seems I’m always working and delegating the fun to others.”
“Delegating the fun?”
“She has fun with my mom, at the summer camps, with Graham when she visits. But with me? I’m the one who’s always working, keeping things in line.”
“Well, today you are part of the fun crew.” His eyes held compassion, not pity, and she could tell he understood what she was going through. He was a kindred spirit.
She swallowed hard, realizing that this was the first time she’d talked to someone who really heard her, and understood the challenges of raising a child alone. Someone who had also shared their dreams with someone, only to see those dreams dashed.
“I should go and see what’s keeping them,” she said, turning away from his all-seeing gaze. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
When she opened the door, she found Riley and Sally rooting through the cupboard in the hall, the contents of which were now scattered on the floor.
“Riley, what on earth are you doing?”
Her daughter froze just as she was climbing up on a step stool to reach the top shelf. “I can’t find it. Simon says we need to bring a hat, and I can’t find it,” Riley yelled, her expression full of frustration.
Sally turned toward her, eyes wide, looking as though she wanted to bolt.
“I see you’re frustrated,” said Sarah, keeping her voice calm, “and you don’t want to disappoint Simon.”
“What if he says I can’t go?”
“Step down from the stool and let me look for it. It might be on the very top shelf.”
As she said this, she remembered exactly where that hat was. It was where she had chucked it when Graham decided he wasn’t returning to their marriage after the separation. When he had, instead, run to the arms of a younger woman.
A woman Graham was now very concerned about because she had been forced to take bed rest. He was there with her today.
Sitting in the hospital. He never would have spent his weekend in hospital with Sarah.
She would have been left alone to deal with things because, as he told her when he left, “you never really needed me.”
Riley stepped down from the footstool, and Sarah climbed up to search the top shelf. There in the far corner lay the cap, next to another one she’d forgotten about. The Toronto Blue Jays.
“Here.” She pulled them both out of the far corner and shook them out.
“Which one would you like?” she asked, showing them both to Riley.
“The Blue Jays,” said Riley, taking the baseball cap from her. “Simon likes the Blue Jays.”
“I’ll wear the Canucks one,” said Sarah, placing the hat on her head and pulling her ponytail through the back. “Now, how about you two hand me those things?” She pointed to the clothes scattered on the ground. “We’ll tidy up in no time.”
“Oh, Mom, can’t it wait?”
“Riley, I think we need to do it now,” said Sally, picking up a coat from the ground and handing it to Sarah.
“Thank you,” said Sarah, stepping down from the stool and hanging up the coat. Riley shrugged and picked up another. Within minutes the job was done.
“Let’s go,” said Riley, opening the door.
When they went out again, they found Simon chatting to their neighbor, an older woman who had a garden and small orchard Sarah envied. It seemed they were talking about the finer points of growing peaches.
“I’ll tell Sarah when they’re ripe,” said Mrs. Field. “You can come and pick some before the gleaners come.”
“The gleaners?”
“It’s what I call the food co-op group,” chuckled Mrs. Field. “They come and pick my fruit, help me with my pruning, and in turn I give them most of my crop for the food bank and food kitchen.”
“Food kitchen?”
“It’s a place downtown where people on a budget can learn to cook simple meals. The peaches and other fruit”—she waved at the yard behind her—“are canned or frozen for later use.”
“What a great service.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Field, who stepped back when Sarah got closer. “Hello.”
“Hello, Mrs. Field.” The woman looked at her warily, and Sarah blushed, knowing Simon’s conversation with the woman was probably longer than any she and her neighbor had ever engaged in, but she was familiar with Mrs. Field’s life. Her mother kept her up to date.
“How is Eileen?”
“Mom’s doing well. Still on baby watch, though the twins should be here any day now.”
“You must miss her,” said Mrs. Field.
“Yes, we do.”
“Especially Grandma’s cooking,” said Riley, grinning.
“Hey!” said Sarah. “I make a pretty good salad, I’ll have you know.”
Riley just laughed and ran toward the car.
“We should get going,” said Simon, “before the pier gets overcrowded. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Field.”
“Thank you. And I was serious. If you want some peaches when they’re ready, I’ll let Sarah know.” Her gaze flitted from Sarah to Simon, silently assessing them. Great. She hoped Mrs. Field didn’t know anyone Graham knew, but she also knew small towns had few secrets.
“I would appreciate that,” said Simon. “And if there’s anything I can do to help in return, let me know. I love to garden.”
“I may take you up on that,” said Mrs. Field, waving them off.
“You made a new friend,” said Sarah, as she sat in the seat beside Simon.
“She seems nice. Lonely, maybe. Says her husband only passed a couple of years ago.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Sarah remembered her mother telling her about Mrs. Field’s husband. He had been in a care unit for several years, and she’d visited him regularly. “She seems to be doing pretty well.”
“Yes. But it never hurts to reach out,” said Simon. “You never can tell who might need a friendly greeting. And besides, she has peaches.” He grinned at her as he twisted to back up the car. “And a friend with peaches is a friend indeed.”
“Mom makes a good peach cobbler,” said Riley.
Sarah laughed. “I’m glad I have your approval on one thing I cook.”
“I love peach cobbler almost as much as fresh peaches,” said Simon.
“Perhaps I’ll make you one,” Sarah said. Then, realizing his gaze held heat, or longing, as well as mild surprise, she turned her face to the passenger window. “It’s a good day for crabbing.”
“Yes,” said Simon, his voice gruffer than usual. “I think it’s going to be a wonderful day.”
They arrived at the pier a quarter hour later, and, to Simon’s relief, were quick to find a spot to park.
“Looks like everyone else is on holiday hours today,” he said, climbing out of the car to pay for parking. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
When he returned, he found the trio already out of the car. Sally was standing close to Sarah, explaining that they came crabbing every summer and that this was their first trip.
“What do you use for bait?” Sarah asked.
“Fish heads. Dad gets them from his friend at the butcher shop.”
“And is there anything else I should know?” Sarah asked.
Simon smiled as he listened to Sally explain how they baited the trap, threw it in, waited for the crabs to gather around the bait, and then pulled the whole thing up. “We have to measure them and throw back the little ones. We can’t keep them or the population won’t grow,” she said seriously.
“That’s a good rule,” said Sarah. “We wouldn’t want that. Crab meat is too good.”
Simon walked over to the back of the car without interrupting their conversation—not when Sally was opening up to someone other than him. He appreciated the way Sarah spoke to his daughter. With respect. Just as he spoke to her.
Riley gravitated toward him as soon as he opened the hatchback. “Can I help?”
“Well, you can carry the bait bucket if you like,” he said, pulling out a small covered bucket and handing it to her. She grinned, vibrating with excitement. “Have you never been crabbing?”
“No. My dad always said he would take me, but…” Her face fell.