Seré Halverson - The Underside of Joy

Dr Irving Boyle was right. Because of Annie and Zach, I had a lot to live for. I was not only their mother; I was a good mother, a superior mother. We just needed to keep doing our favourite things. A weekend with Paige wasn’t going to threaten what we’d taken three years to establish. Gwen Alterman was right too: It would only help our cause. Imagine Paige with her perfectly manicured nails covered in barfy finger paints. Ha!

Annie and Zach and I sat on the couch in the not-so-great room. Callie went from one to the other of us, pushing her head and her backside into us, thwacking us with her tail, panting. The pink suitcase was packed to the gills, along with Zach’s Thomas the Tank Engine suitcase; they waited by the door. At 10:15 a.m. — precisely when she said she’d arrive — Paige’s rental car turned up our drive. Callie galloped down the hallway with Annie, while Zach, holding his Bubby, stood and watched me. I wiped my palms on my jeans and tried to smooth my hair down.

Zach jumped into my lap. ‘Bella,’ he said, planting a kiss on my cheek, ‘you look gorgeous. ’

I laughed and planted my own kisses all over his face. I knew he’d taken that line from Joe. My insecurity must have been bouncing off the walls for a three-year-old boy to be prompted to flatter me. He wriggled free, and I stood up, remembered to breathe a few abdominal breaths, then walked into the kitchen and picked up a dish towel so it looked like I was busy doing something. I’d been cleaning all morning, but the house still looked cluttered. She probably wouldn’t even come in.

But she was already walking down the hallway and into the kitchen.

‘Annie let me in.’ She looked across to the great room. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you, I like how you tore down that wall. It looks much better. I knew it would. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?’

I had started to clean the bathroom but got distracted and then forgot about it entirely. I considered telling her no, she could use the bathroom at Ernie’s Gas, but knew I couldn’t get away with that. ‘Oh? Oh, okay. It’s through — Well, you know where it is.’

‘I do,’ she said. While she was in there, I was kicking myself for not cleaning the bathroom. Of course she’d have to use it. She’d driven all the way from the airport. I thought of my new prescription in the medicine cabinet and the hard-water ring around the toilet. Joe’s aftershave that I kept on the counter for quick fixes. Would she open it, inhale it like I did, press some on her wrists? Or would she dump it down the toilet? Had I left my underwear on the floor? The old ones with the two rips around the elastic?

When she glided out, Zach ran over to me and grabbed my leg. I rubbed his back and handed her the kids’ health insurance cards, their pediatrician’s phone number, and some instructions including Annie’s allergy to Ceclor and Zach’s attachment to his Bubby. She didn’t smell like Joe’s aftershave, just her own jasmine citrus perfume, her signature scent that kept permeating my house. She took the insurance cards but handed me back Dr Magenelli’s number and the instructions. ‘Thanks. But I know Doc Magic and his number. Along with Annie’s allergy. And as far as instructions, Annie’s such a smart girl. I think she can help me with any questions that arise. But thanks, really. It was thoughtful.’ She tucked the insurance cards in her streamlined wallet, snapped it shut, slipped it back into her streamlined shoulder bag. She wore white pants and a peach silky shirt that looked perfect against her skin. She must have never covered herself with baby oil and baked in the sun on one of those foil-coated space blankets when she was a teenager. She looked slightly different from the last time I’d seen her. She’d cut her fringe, wispy, framing her eyes, making them look even bigger.

‘Let me get you their car seats,’ I said.

‘No need. The rental car has them built in. We’re staying at the Hilton in Santa Rosa.’ She turned to the kids. ‘Did you two pack your suits?’ They nodded.

Annie said, ‘And quite a few dresses.’

‘Excellent.’ Paige looked at her watch.

I said, ‘What a long day for you…’

‘Oh, I don’t mind. I’m thrilled to be able to see them. Okay, Annie, Zach, say good-bye to Ella.’

Ella? Nice try. And she didn’t need to tell my kids to say good-bye to me.

Zach said, ‘I wanna stay here.’

I bent down and smoothed his hair back. ‘You can call me anytime. And Annie will be with you. And Bubby. And you’ll be back tomorrow.’ He started hitting the ground with Bubby. ‘Okay, honey?’

He looked at Paige and slowly nodded. Annie took his other hand, and the three of us followed Paige down the porch steps. I knelt down and hugged them both maybe a little too long, and willed the tears to wait.

‘Bye, Mommy!’ they shouted from the car, waving as she drove them away. I watched until they disappeared around the bend, then watched the dust from the gravel dissipate in the morning air.

I slipped on Joe’s jacket, and Callie and I went down to the chicken coop, Callie zigzagging in front of me. We had four hens, Bernice, Gilda, Harriet and Mildred. When I reached under them, they’d each left me an egg, except for Mildred. She hadn’t been laying as much. I wondered if she was in mourning too. I slipped the three warm eggs in the pockets of Joe’s jacket and followed Callie back to the house.

I had a plan to keep occupied, to look for the documents Paige had requested. Gwen had said, ‘You’ll need to be able to tell the court that you’ve conducted a diligent search and you did not find the letters.’ I would go through the boxes and files in Joe’s office so I could sign off on that and be done with it.

I sat in his old office at Life’s a Picnic and went through the files, flipped through the books, and pulled up tax records I’d once blindly signed without even reviewing. The signs of financial doom flashed from documents I’d never bothered to look at. Like some kind of fifties housewife, I’d stayed out of the finances and spent my days tending to the children. It naturally happened that way; it hadn’t been a decision. It seemed to work for us then, but now I could see that it really wasn’t working at all. Joe hadn’t told me the truth, but some part of me clearly preferred it that way.

The door behind the file cabinet led to a storage area. The cabinet was too heavy to move, but I didn’t want to ask David for help, so I emptied out the drawers and then pushed and shimmied the shell until I could open the door. I pulled the string to turn on the bare lightbulb that hung from the rafter. The air smelled of mould — and memories. Stacked boxes, a few pieces of old dusty furniture; a mirrored dresser and a secretary’s desk that probably belonged to Joe’s grandparents. If there were any letters, I’d find them there.

I started going through boxes. Not the marked ones that said things like Joey’s Baseball Trophies or Davy’s Schoolwork. But the unmarked boxes in the corner. In the first one I opened, I found the paisley robe.

I recognized it immediately, the swirls of teal, of honey and periwinkle, and now I could see how it would highlight Paige’s eyes and complexion — even if she did wear it every day, all day, she still had looked amazing. Joe had saved it that evening after we met. He’d taken it from the hook on the back of the bathroom door, but he hadn’t thrown it out or given it away or even sent it to Paige. He’d kept it. Because he missed her? Because he hoped for her return? Had he locked his office door as I had just done, and moved the file cabinet and opened the box to take out the robe and inhale her perfume the way I’d inhaled every one of his shirts?