“I'll go with you down to the cars,” Will put in hastily. “I have to leave for awhile and the sooner I go, the sooner I'll be back.”
“Where are you going?” Bonnie asked.
“To see my parents. Their cottage is about an hour's drive north of here and they're expecting me today. I'm just going to visit with them awhile. I'll see you later.”
“If you tell anyone we're here⦔ Bonnie looked more pathetic than threatening.
“It's your business, Bonnie. I think you're making a big mistake, but you know what's best for your kids.”
“Like going home,” Ryan interjected.
Bonnie ignored him. “Thanks, Will. Now come on, Megan, let's get some clothes on you.”
“You'll be all right?” Will said softly to me.
“Sure, no problem. Drive carefully, will you?”
“I'll see you this afternoon.”
We hugged and kissed. Ryan sighed loudly.
After they left, I puttered around the kitchen, making more coffee and considering the food we had on hand. There was
enough chili for supper, if the friend Marilyn was apparently with didn't stay.
Bonnie shooed Megan out the door. Her shoulders slumped as if, with the kids gone, she could relax and let herself go.
“Coffee?” I asked her.
She took the cup I handed her and sank down in a chair at the table. I sat opposite. We both sipped and stared out the window at the play of light through the leaves. Far out on the lake, a motor boat cut a swath through the water. The hum of its engine rose and fell, scarcely louder than the buzz of mosquitoes which hovered in a cloud outside the screen porch.
“You agree with Will that I'm making a dreadful mistake, don't you?” Bonnie finally broke the silence.
I shrugged. What was the use of talking? I didn't think she would listen to what I had to say and I didn't want to lose my temper and alienate her. Mostly, I didn't want her to run away. Not just yet. Not until she'd had a chance to think things through.
“Robin thinks I'm wrong too,” Bonnie continued. “He's had to apprehend kids and return them to the custodial parent. It's not pleasant.”
I couldn't help myself. “Why didn't you think about that before you took off?”
“I did.” She turned the cup around and around in her hand, staring into it as if reading a fortune in the dregs of black liquid. “All I've done is think about it. This is not a spur of the moment decision, no matter what you may think. I've been planning it for awhile, ever since ⦠well, I found out I could make enough money to get away. Robin agreed to help. I thought if we could go somewhere, not have to work for awhile, not have to worry about money, we could be happy again. Like we were in the beginning.”
“With the kids?” I asked. “You're suggesting some kind of second honeymoon, and I can't see how Ryan and Megan fit into that.”
“We weren't going to take them at first,” Bonnie admitted. “You see how difficult Ryan can be. I thought Harold deserved him. But then, when Harold told me he was going to re-marry⦔
“That seems to me the solution to all your problems,” I
objected. “Harold will have someone to help him look after the kids; they'll have a more stable home environment; and you'll be free to work out your problems with Robin.”
“Leaving my children to some other woman? What kind of person do you suppose would want to marry my ex-husband? Just because she runs her own business, doesn't mean he can't walk all over her. I've told you what a control freak he is.”
“What kind of business?”
She waved her hand in the air. “I don't know. Consulting or accounting or something like that.”
“So maybe he's changed since you left and he's had to take care of the kids by himself. People do change. And this Lynne must be a pretty strong person in her own right if she can keep a business going in these times.”
“She's probably desperate to get married. I mean, anyone who's thirty-five and still single has to be worried about missing the boat. And he's quite a catch, you know, owning his house and a steady job, early retirement coming up. He's in good shape for a man his age.”
“Bonnie! I can't believe you're saying such things. You can't seriously believe all that. How do you know what she's like or what her life has been like? Have you even met her?”
She shook her head no.
“Then you can't know how she is with Harold or the kids. They seem to like her. Did Harold say anything about wanting to restrict visiting rights even more after he's married?”
“No. In fact⦔ Bonnie put her head in her hands, her hair curtaining her face.
“Well?” I prompted her.
She mumbled into her hands so that I had to strain to hear her. “He suggested that the kids might come to live with me while he's on his honeymoon. And that we might divide the summer holidays so that I have them for a whole month in the city.”
“But isn't that just what you wanted? What does he say about Robin?”
“He said that finding himself in love with Lynne changed everything. He could see why I did what I did.”
“You see? He's willing to bend a little, at last. You can have Robin and the kids and a career: everything. I don't understand
why you have to run away. It'll just make Harold angry with you again, so that he'll become even more inflexible than he's been before.”
“It's like all the rest of the things he's said don't count. The things he said in court about me being unfit. Now that he wants time to himself, it's all different. He acts like I should be grateful to him. Grateful that I'm going to be able to see my own kids more than once a month.”
I sighed. “So who cares what his motives are? What counts is that you'll be with them more often. And that they get along with Harold's new wife.”
“That's all Megan talks about. It's
Lynne says this
and
Lynne does that
. It's driving me crazy.”
“Isn't it better than if this Lynne resented her new husband's children?”
“If she did, maybe he'd give them back to me.”
“But half the time you say you don't want them.”
“That's not true,” she said. “You don't understand. Kids can drive you crazy, but when you're a mother, you forgive them, you can't live without them. I can give them just as good a home as Harold can. Better, even.”
I shook my head. “I just don't see how you're going to live. Where is this money coming from?”
“Never mind that,” she said. “That's my business.” She clutched the dish towel to her face, as if to hide tears. “But what am I going to do now? Ryan's barely speaking to me. He hates me.”
“He's frightened. He wants to go home. Why don't you take them back after the weekend? From what you say, Harold's willing to loosen up a bit⦔
She drew back. “I'm not giving my kids up.”
“I'm not suggesting that. If you take them away and get caught, you'll lose it all: the kids, your freedom, respect. This way, it's as if you just kept them for the weekend as Harold asked. Since you'll be seeing more of them, Ryan will stop resenting you and Megan will see you as a friend. Maybe you and Robin could move back to Ottawa and work out some sort of joint custody⦔
“You don't know Harold. He'd never agree to that.”
“He's already suggesting a more open arrangement,” I
pointed out. I circled the table and knelt beside her chair, my arm around her. “Ryan's and Megan's needs have to come first,” I insisted. “You and Robin have your own troubles to sort out. Do you think that will be easy with the kids along?”
She turned and clung to me. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lay all this on you.”
“What else are friends for?” I hugged her. And why else did you come here, I wanted to ask, but didn't. “All you have to do is take them back to Ottawa and talk the situation over with Harold. I'm sure he'll listen to reason⦔
“That's easy for you to say,” Bonnie retorted. “What am I supposed to do? Call Harold and say,
Sorry, I took the kids, but I'll bring them home tomorrow?
You think he'll let it go at that? You think he won't punish me by not ever letting me have them again?”
“He's not totally unreasonable,” I pleaded. “If you explain ⦔
“You're so naive, Rosie,” she said. “You have no idea what he's like.”
“What who's like?” Ryan came in. He stopped short when he saw the tears on his mother's face. “Never mind.” He turned to leave.
“It's all right,” Bonnie straightened up, pushing her hair back behind her ears. “What do you want?”
“We want to go to the beach,” Ryan mumbled. He wouldn't look at either of us.
The roar of a boat motor grew suddenly much louder, then faded before beginning again. We all looked out the window but could see nothing. A fisherman must have trolled in too close to shore and caught his propeller on the weeds.
“How about,” I suggested, “I take Ryan and Megan to the beach in the canoe and you go up to the store to phone.”
“Who are you calling?” Ryan demanded. “Dad? Or Robin?”
“I don't know,” Bonnie replied.
“So when are we going home to Ottawa?”
“Do you really want to go back⦔ Bonnie's voice trailed off. “What about the trip we planned? You know I promised we'd go to Disneyland.”
“That's for babies.” Ryan fidgeted. “I don't want to drive all that way in that dump of a car. With Megan throwing up every time we hit a bump.”
“That's not fair, Ryan. Megan's getting over being car sick.”
“That's what you say 'cause you don't have to sit in back with her.”
Bonnie sighed. “I'll think about it, okay?”
“And there's school,” the boy continued. “I don't think Dad would be happy about me missing so much school if we leave now. There's over a month before summer holidays. I'll fail.”
“Since when did you care so much about missing school?” She stood up, glancing out the door as she did so. “Where's Megan, by the way? She's not by the water by herself, is she?” Her voice sharpened.
“She said she'd stay on the dock.”
“Oh, God.” Bonnie jumped up.
Ryan and I followed her at a run down the hill to the river. Megan was nowhere in sight.
“Megan!” Bonnie screamed. “Megan!”
She leaned far over the edge of the dock, searching the water for a sign of the orange life jacket. Nothing. Upstream we could see a glint of white water: the rapids whose rushing murmur underscored the chattering birds and rustle of wind through reeds. The water â or someone diligent with a shovel â had carved a wide pool in front of the dock, deep enough for a swimming hole. The river narrowed again as it rounded a bend towards the open water, invisible to us behind a barrier of willows and wild rice.
“Megan! Megan!” We all shouted, then held our breaths, willing her to call. Only the shrieks of the gulls, angry at being disturbed, answered us.
Bonnie tried to forge her way along the riverbank, pushing the reeds aside and ignoring the wet mud that sopped up to her ankles. Ryan went the other way, upriver against the current, battling his way through the tangle of alders that crowded the shore. I ran back up to the cottage to check the outhouse. It was empty. I opened the shed. No one was inside, but there was a canoe paddle leaning against one wall and an old cork life float hanging from a hook above it. The paddle was a bit long for my taste and had a wide flat blade; the white jacket was water stained and missing one of its ties. I took it anyway. I hadn't been in a canoe for years, but hoped it was a skill like riding a bicycle.
I ran back to the river, praying that the canoe wasn't padlocked to a chain. For once luck was with me: it had been left untied, a long rope merely looped through an iron ring on the dock. Evidently, my cousin didn't fear unwelcome visitors on the river. I tipped the canoe over the edge of the dock into the water. It landed with a splash that got Bonnie's attention. She stopped fighting the muck and stood looking down river.
“Megan,” she cried. “Baby, where are you?”
Ryan came back to the dock. “I can't get through the bush. I don't think she'd be able to either.”
I put the paddle and float into the boat and sat down to take off my shoes. “She couldn't have gone very far on her own,” I said. “She's got the life jacket on, doesn't she, Ryan?”
He nodded, swallowing hard to keep back the sobs that threatened him.
“Then, if she fell in, the current's carrying her out to the lake. I'll go look for her. If she's on land, she's probably not far away. Bonnie, why don't you drive up to the highway and call the cops. Maybe they've got dogs that can track her, if she's gone in the woods. Ryan, you wait at the cottage in case she gets back on her own.”
Bonnie slogged back to firmer ground. She caught hold of her son as he turned towards the cottage.
“You stay in the house, you hear?” She shook him for emphasis. “Don't go looking around outside. I couldn't bear it if you got lost too.”
“I'm sorry, Mom,” Ryan began to cry in earnest. “I'm really sorry. I told her to stay right here. She promised.” His voice rose in a wail of desperation.
“We're wasting time,” I said. The canoe rocked as I lowered myself into it. I settled myself in the mid-section, kneeling on the metal ribs, the small of my back propped against a narrow cross bar.
Bonnie hugged Ryan fiercely and kissed the top of his head. “It'll be okay, boyo. She's probably back at the cottage now, wondering where we are.”
“You call me if you find her,” I shouted. I pushed off from the shore.
For a few seconds, I thought I'd be going nowhere. The canoe drifted broadside as I struggled to bring its bow around.
I'd never paddled such a big boat and never by myself. I'd seen it done, though. I paddled on each side to get the canoe headed in the right direction, then experimented with deep strokes followed by a slight trailing of the wide blade in the water. The bow dove into the weeds on the far shore. Cursing, I dug the paddle into the bottom and used it as a pole to push the boat back into deeper water.