to hang onto, especially now.
As their relationship had blossomed, Tom had confided how bad he felt about Pauline and their divorce and what it had done to Geraldine and Hunter. The weight of it had become a burden of guilt exacerbated by his failed second marriage and what he knew lay ahead for Charlotte. He’d gone to visit Hunter at her urging and had spent time with Pauline after she told him that making restitution would help to heal Pauline’s wounds — and his own. He’d been mending fences and had been finding a measure of peace before his death. This knowledge gave her solace now.
That last night when he’d come over, he’d told her that he was ready to move out of the house he shared with Laurel to find an apartment in downtown Ottawa. He’d wait for her there to break free of Clinton. He didn’t care if they stayed in Ottawa, but if he fought for joint custody of Charlotte, it would be best if they remained somewhere in Ontario. He didn’t want to do to Charlotte what he’d done to Geraldine and Hunter, but she knew he was worried about how Clinton would react to her departure and would leave this city for her. She hadn’t told Tom how bad it had gotten at home, but she wondered now if he’d guessed and that was why he’d been willing to make a move. She’d been stronger that last night, determined to face Clinton and tell him that their marriage was over. Tom had given her strength. Now … well now she could barely muster the energy to lift this full cup of coffee to her lips.
The sun had risen enough so that Susan could see the dark outline of trees beyond the patio doors. Cloud cover would keep the day a sullen grey but it would be plenty light enough for a tramp along the riverbank in Chapman Mills Conservation Area, a ten minute drive across Prince of Wales Drive south of Winding Way. Normally, she’d walk the distance, but today she’d be too cold by the time she reached their meeting spot.
Susan stirred herself to stand up and get moving. If she hurried, there would be time for a quick bath and a bowl of granola before she set out to meet Pauline. Fresh air and a walk with her oldest friend could be all she needed to get her energy back. It would be two weeks before Clinton returned home from the base. Time enough to pull herself out of this dangerous funk. Time enough to decide the best way to leave him.
37
Sunday, February 26, 9:05 a.m.
The snow crunched underfoot as if she was walking on shattered glass. Susan inhaled the sharp edge of cold air and surveyed the stretch of Rideau River cradled in pine, Douglas fir, scraggly cedar, and snowy banks. The current was strong in places, with eddies of black water visible under the thinning layer of ice that snaked upriver toward the rapids. This sudden cold snap couldn’t hold back the approaching spring. Already, the ice had been weakened by the two weeks of unprecedented warmth.
Susan spotted Pauline standing in the shadow of a giant pine at the beginning of the path. From spring to fall this was a walking trail with heavy traffic morning to night. Not so in the winter on a frigid morning. It was unusually cold, but Susan had dressed warmly in her down coat and lined nylon pants. She’d put her hood up and wrapped a wool scarf around her neck so that the stinging wind only found her cheeks and forehead. Pauline looked to be dressed as warmly as well and completely in white — ski jacket, ski pants, hat, gloves, and boots. Dark, wrap-around sunglasses were the only bit of colour.
“I could hardly see you standing there,” Susan said, puffing as she approached the meeting spot. “You blend right into the snowy day.”
They hugged. Pauline laughed and held up a thermos. “Glad you could make it. I brought sweet tea for our break on the trail.”
“I think we might be alone on our walk. This north wind will keep people inside.”
“I don’t mind if you don’t. We can just walk to the big bend in the river. It’s only twenty minutes in.”
They started into the wood side by side. The path paralleled the river, winding through pine, cedar, tamarack, birch, and stretches of bulrushes. Leafless sumac and honeysuckle bushes lined the river bank in places, their branches poking out from under a coat of snow. The canopy of branches had kept the snow from the path for the most part. Cross country skiers and hikers had flattened down the rest so walking was not difficult. Inside the woods they were protected from the harshest bite of the wind. When the trail wound into openings next to the river, the wind bit into their cheeks, but just as quickly they’d be back amongst the trees. Susan could hear the wind soughing through the pines, a lonely, animal sound, and yet she found it comforting. It reminded her that the wind was powerful energy that nobody could control. When she leaned way back, she saw the tree tops swaying like skirted women dancing a languid samba. She smiled at the image and let the peace of the day replace the unsettled thoughts that were with her now every waking moment. She turned toward Pauline.
“I didn’t see your car in the lot.”
“No, I had an appointment and came directly from there. I parked on a side street off Winding Way because I was early and wanted to stretch my legs. I’ve been sadly neglecting my exercise regime with all the turmoil. I’ll take a lift back to my car if you don’t mind.”
It was the closest Pauline had come to mentioning Tom’s death. Susan linked her arm through Pauline’s. “It’s been a tough time but we’ll get through it together.”
Pauline’s head swivelled so that she was looking at Susan through her dark sunglasses. They completely hid her eyes. Her mouth was a thin, tight line, and for the first time Susan felt a twinge of unease.
“Yes, together. It’s the only way for friends to get through,” said Pauline.
Susan smiled and relaxed. This was the Pauline she’d known since high school. The friend she sometimes didn’t like very much, but the one she always loved. “How are Max and Geraldine coping with the new baby?”
“You haven’t heard? Max moved out.”
Susan stopped walking. “I had no idea. Is Geraldine all right?”
“It was for the best. Max stole money from her and he was unfaithful.” Pauline turned and looked at Susan and then kept walking. Susan hurried to catch up.
“Poor Geraldine. I remember how in love she was when they married.”
Pauline barked a laugh. “If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that you never really know anybody. People act one way but will stab you in the back first chance they get.”
Susan couldn’t think of a response.
They walked single file across a walking bridge and then along a narrow curve in the path that wound through a tangle of prickly bushes. Small birds flitted from limb to limb on the branches overhead. The deeper woods were like a cocoon, sounds from the river muffled, the air still and damp. Susan wondered what was going on in Pauline’s head. They’d all worked hard to protect her after Tom deserted her for Laurel. Even still, Pauline had gone through a manic period of pretending her life was glorious before she’d crashed into a state of not eating and depression. Could she have fallen back into that place? Susan caught up to her when the path broke into a clearing and widened so that they could walk two abreast.
“I’m so sorry Geraldine and Max couldn’t work it out.”
“Yes, but it’s better this way. Geraldine finally saw him for what he is and now he’s out of her life.”
Pauline picked up speed as they entered the wood again. The trees were old growth and towered above them, plumy branches casting shadows on the path. Susan hurried to keep pace. Even with the cold temperature, a trickle of sweat dampened the back of her neck inside the down coat.
“Did you tell anyone we were walking today?” asked Pauline.
“No. I got your note when Clinton was heading back to the base but didn’t mention it. I’m thinking about leaving him.” Susan said the words aloud for the first time. They felt leaden on her tongue but also freeing.
Pauline turned her head and stared at her through her dark sunglasses. Susan wished she could see Pauline’s eyes to know what she was thinking. Probably I