thought it might be nice to have a chance to chat before the mayhem of the first day of school,” Heather said.
Julie stepped to the side as the two friends hugged. Heather, shorter than Julie, had to stand on her toes. In Russell’s arms she closed her eyes briefly. To Julie, it seemed she deliberately took a deep breath, as if to inhale Russell’s very essence.
Silly thought.
“Let’s have a drink on the deck,” she invited. “It’s a splendid evening.”
“Good idea. I take it you two introduced yourselves?” With a hand on each of their backs, Russell led them down the hall, to the kitchen. Julie set the cookies on the counter. “We’ll have them for lunch tomorrow,” she said.
After taking orders, Russell poured a glass of pinot gris for Julie, a lager for himself and juice for Heather. They sat out on the cedar decking in padded aluminum chairs that Julie hadn’t yet had time to wipe down.
“I’m sorry for the dust.” She brushed off her own seat with her hand before sitting. “We’ve been concentrating on the inside.”
Heather wasn’t perturbed. Of course her denim shorts would wash easily.
“You must have been working hard,” she said. “The inside looks amazing. You have a talent for decorating. But then, that’s what you are, isn’t it? An interior designer?”
“Julie studied interior design in London, before she got her master’s in journalism from UBC.”
“Wow. Maybe I could have you over sometime. Get some pointers. I’d feed you dinner in exchange.”
The woman had a very friendly smile. Her light-blue eyes seemed incapable of hiding even the smallest of uncharitable thoughts.
“I’d be happy to,” Julie said, not entirely honestly. “But tell me how you two know each other.”
Their glances met and they both smiled.
“We went to school together,” Russell said. “Although I was two grades ahead.”
Heather paused to sip from her glass. “Then Russ went to university in Vancouver. We didn’t see much of him after that.”
“Heather earned her education degree in Saskatoon,” Russell told Julie. Turning back to Heather, he said, “Mom passed on the news about your wedding.” His smile faded. “And the accident.”
“That was no accident.”
“No, I guess not.” Again he made an explanation in an aside to Julie. “Heather’s husband was an officer with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. A couple of years ago, he stopped a guy on the highway. The crazy idiot pulled out a gun….”
“Oh, no.” Julie’s stomach lurched at the picture her mind all too vividly provided. Immediately her feelings toward her guest softened. “How tragic. I’m so sorry.”
“Yes, it was terrible.” Heather’s open face made it clear she was still dealing with the loss. “The man responsible turned the gun on himself right after. Somehow that made it worse for me. If he hadn’t wanted to live, anyway, why did he have to take Nick?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know this kind of thinking is pointless.”
“It’s difficult not to focus on how easily a situation could have resulted in a different outcome,” Russell said. “All it takes is a second to change your life forever.”
Julie thought about Ben and the morning of April 30. If the phone had rung two minutes later, they would have been out the door; she wouldn’t even have heard it….
“Life deals some hard blows,” Heather agreed. “I was so sorry to hear about Ben’s accident. How’s he doing?”
“Fine.”
“Okay.”
Russell’s and Julie’s answers collided in the quiet evening air.
“He’s getting stronger every day,” Russell elaborated. “The doctors warned us it might take some time before he fully recovers.”
To Julie, Russell sounded totally confident that one day Ben would be completely well. Yet the doctors hadn’t provided any guarantees.
“I’m so glad to hear it,” Heather said. “I know your parents were terribly worried. I can only imagine how hard it must have been on the two of you.”
Julie stared out at the lake, which lay framed between two spruce trees growing at either end of their spacious backyard. The water had turned navy in the fading light. A new chill in the air sent goose bumps over her arms.
Russell finally responded to Heather’s comment. “It’s been a tough few months.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him—I promise,” Heather said.
Julie blinked, feeling as if she’d missed a couple of steps in this conversation. After a few seconds of silence, she acknowledged the obvious. Heather had already referred to the craziness of the first day of school. Russell had mentioned her education degree.
“You’re a teacher.”
Heather glanced at Russell, then back to Julie. “Grade four.”
“Ben’s in grade four.”
“Yes. He’ll be in my class this year. I’m looking forward to meeting him.” She smiled at Russell. “And to working with you.”
“After all these years,” Russell said. “Who would have thought?”
THE KING-SIZE BED JULIE and Russell had shared in Vancouver dwarfed the small bedroom in this new home of theirs. Julie sat on one corner of the mattress, brushing her hair and listening to the creaks of an unfamiliar house.
Often she’d heard Russell complain about the never-ending noise of traffic and sirens in the city. But she found the quiet of this town much more oppressive. According to Russell, the birds would wake them at dawn. But right now, at just past eleven, she felt as if she and Russell were the only ones in this town still awake.
Ben had fallen asleep hours ago, with clean clothes for tomorrow laid out on the chair in front of his desk and a new backpack, filled with supplies she’d purchased in Vancouver, sitting on the floor next to his shoes.
Julie stopped brushing her hair and closed her eyes. The picture came, as it always did…
A size-three Converse running shoe, flying through the air, laces untied…
To replace the ruined pair, she’d bought Ben Boarders. He’d been so pleased. Apparently they were all the rage at his old school. Would they be here, too? She hoped so. She wanted badly for him to blend in and be happy. What concerned her most, of course, was his performance in the classroom. Just how slow was Ben now? Would he fit into the average of his class? Or somewhere below?
What if he couldn’t even maintain his grade level?
She’d give him a few weeks, she decided, then talk to his teacher. Heather Sweeney was certainly approachable enough. Her friendship with Russell would make her even more eager to help.
Russell came into the room from the washroom, face and neck damp. He pulled his white T-shirt over his head, balled it up and tossed it into the wicker basket just two feet from where Julie sat.
“Nice that Ben had a chance to meet his teacher before the big day tomorrow,” he said.
“Yes. I suppose I’ll get used to people dropping in unannounced around here.”
Russell had his jeans unzipped. He paused and stared at her.
“Sorry. That was churlish. I do appreciate that she took the time to stop in. I guess I just wish I’d had a chance…to tidy up a little first.” That was a lie. The condition of the house hadn’t bothered her. She wished she could have brushed her hair, freshened her makeup, put on a decent