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Previous Chapter: What Trailer Park Did You Fall Out Of?
Edited 4:06 pm 3/7/2025
<<Want to come by for some pie tonight?>> Kim texted.
<<Maybe, depending on how the day goes.>> Isla closed her phone and went back to peeling potatoes in her spot next to the woodstove. The turkey was in the electric oven, the first of a long line of pies had appeared on the counter, and the parade was on in the living room. Mum was tossing a salad.
“What time is everyone coming?” Isla asked. The extended family always gathered at the big farmhouse for holidays as it was by far the most spacious.
“They could start coming anytime. I told them we’d eat around one.”
Isla couldn’t wait for the house to start filling. The bustle brought so much energy. Uncle Mike and Aunt Pam were the first to arrive, bringing the frosty morning air behind them into the kitchen. Austin was carrying Lilly, his brother Robbie’s five-year-old daughter that lived with them most of the time. Lilly couldn’t remember her dad.
“Lilly brought you something,” Austin smiled and leaned down over Isla so the little girl could gently place a stink bug on her hand. Isla jumped a little, reflexively.
“His name is Bob.”
“Oh . . . thank you?”
“He’s a nice bug. He likes you. He wants to live with you.”
“He does? How do you know?”
“He told me.”
“He talks?”
“Of course!” Lilly’s little face was full of disdain. Grown-ups could be so ignorant.
“Go play with Auntie Linda’s toy people,” Austin said, putting her down. She ran off to pull a large box from its well-known spot under a side table. He settled into a kitchen chair with a sigh.
“Want some coffee, Austin?” Mum asked.
“You know it!”
“He can get it for himself,” Auntie Pam said as she unpacked a custard pie, but Mum set a mug down in front of him, anyway, with cream and sugar.
“Thanks, Auntie.” The phone rang.
“If it’s the landline, it’s Aunt Dot,” Isla muttered to Austin, snickering.
Mum shook her head at them as she answered, “Hi, Auntie. Really? Still! Uh huh. Uh huh. Haha, yes. Ok, I’ll send Austin right over.” Austin sighed and started putting his shoes back on. “Her porch is still iced over from Tuesday! I’d have thought one of you boys would be over there.”
“Why didn’t she call?” Austin said.
“She shouldn’t need to call,” Pam said, hand on her hip. “She needs to be shoveled out every time it snows. She can’t be doing that at her age.”
“Well why the hell did she wait until Thanksgiving morning to mention it?” he said. “Anyway, it’s only November, that storm wasn’t nothing.” Isla turned more intently towards her potatoes. She hated to hear a more-or-less grown man whine. Or anyone, for that matter.
“Language, young man. A storm that’s nothing to you is a broken hip to Aunt Dot if she goes down. She was probably hoping she wouldn’t have to ask. She likes to be independent.”
“Yeah, so do I.” Austin wasn’t actually pouting but the pout in his voice was loud and clear.
Lilly sidled up beside him. “Where are you going?”
“Aunt Dot’s to shovel,” he said, somewhat less grumpily.
“Can I come?”
Austin looked at her skeptically, but then, softening, said, “Sure. You can build Aunt Dot a snowman. She’d like that. It’s not often we have enough snow for that at Thanksgiving.”
“Can I build a snow turkey?”
He smiled. “Sure.”
Aunt Pam shook her head. “He’s soft on that one. But really,” she went on, taking plates out of the cupboard and interrupting herself to say, “how many people, Lin?” before picking her thread back up, “but really, I hope the Marine Corps straightens that boy out.”
“Only so much they can do,” Dad said, passing through to put his coffee cup in the sink. “The Army tried it on me, and look what happened.”
“He’d be lucky to turn out like you,” Mum said. Isla smiled; she liked her parents’ gentle flirting.
Austin had Dot and Lilly back in time to see Santa end the parade. By then, aunts and uncles and cousins and family friends had filled up the nooks and crannies of the big old house. There were games and puzzles being played. Every so often Isla was sent off to investigate odd thumps in the bathroom or balls bouncing down the stairs. The oven was full of food being kept warm, with the overflow on the woodstove; the fridge was full of food being kept cold, with the overflow on the porch. Mum and Dad’s bed was piled high with coats. It was a joyful cacophony.
After a great deal of marshaling at dinner time, everyone was settled around the tables that filled every bit of space. Mothers stopped little ones from pulling dangerously at the corners of tablecloths. Everyone was shushed as Pete Campbell offered thanks for the meal and the people, ending with a prayer for those who couldn’t be with them.
After the amen, Lilly, sitting between Isla and Austin, looked up wide-eyed and said, “Are there people who aren’t here?”
Isla chuckled; surely it seemed to the child like everyone in the world was crammed between those four walls.
“Really,” Lilly urged, “who isn’t here?”
“Well,” Isla began tentatively, a bit recklessly, “your. . .one of my cousins isn’t here.” Pam shot Isla a sharp look, but Isla ignored it. She was tired of pretending that Robbie didn’t exist.
“You mean my daddy,” Lilly said, then shook her head dismissively. “I don’t know him.”
“I know,” said Isla, “but I do.”
“What is he like?”
“Funny. Really funny.”
“Robbie was a sweet-haht,” Dottie said from across the table. Isla had hoped the sensitive conversation was just between her and Lilly, but Aunt Dot had a nose for big feelings. “If anyone was going to come over and give me a big hug, or check on me, or bring me a gift, it was Robbie.”
“Where is he?”
Glances went around the table. Finally, Isla said, “We don’t know.” They knew some of the places he’d been—jail, rehab, Florida—but they didn’t know where he was now.
“Why not?”
“Because he didn’t tell us.” Isla tried to keep her voice steady.
“Doesn’t he like you?” Lilly’s innocence cut to the quick.
“I think so. I hope so.”
“Don’t you like him? Why don’t you find him?”
“I love him. He was my best friend. But I don’t think he wants to be found.” Isla was biting her lip hard now.
“Do you think I’ll ever meet him?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. I hope so.” Really, Isla didn’t know if that was true. She didn’t know who Robbie was now, or if meeting him would only end up hurting Lilly. But she leaned on the memory of who he’d been that Robbie would come back to them.
An old movie was playing in the living room in late afternoon while a dozen people dozed in from of it. One toddler was experimenting with stairs. The aunts were cleaning up when Isla’s phone buzzed. <<You coming?>>
<<Yeah, I think so. I’ll be over in a few.>> She stuck her phone back in her pocket and turned to Mum.
“I’m going over to Kim’s for some pie, if that’s ok.”
“You didn’t have enough pie?” Mum said incredulously.
Isla laughed, “I’m going over to Kim’s for a Thanksgiving visit.”
“Give her our love.” Isla kissed Mum’s cheek and got her coat. “We can finish up here.” Aunt Dot was wiping a table and Auntie Pam was drying the last few dishes.
“I hate to cut out early.”
“It’s fine, sweetie!”
“Ok.”
There was a truck in Kim’s driveway that looked vaguely familiar. She went in through the kitchen door without knocking and helped herself to a slice of pumpkin from the array in the kitchen before following the sound of voices from the living room.
“Isla!” Kim welcomed her as she came through the doorway.
“Auntie!” Clara and Miles swarmed her, almost knocking the pie out of her hand.
“Hey guys, Happy Thanksgiving. Had a good one?” Besides Kim and Phil and the kids, Dave was there and Danny Fisher, leaning his arms on his knees from his perch on the green velvet couch. Goodnight Moon was in Dave’s hand, and Isla wondered if he’d been reading a small Bilodeau a bedtime story.
“We had an all-bachelor guest list this year,” Phil said, “Isla, have you met Danny Fisher?”
Isla laughed. “People keep introducing us.”
“Danny owns that garage up your way.”
“I know, I know.” She turned to Phil. “Consorting with the competition?”
“Isla, we are medics in a war zone. As long as there is salt on the roads in winter, there will be more than enough work for all of us,” Phil said with mock seriousness. “But Danny’s garage is a going concern. Not just a few heaps in the driveway from time to time like mine.”
“I’ve seen it,” Isla said, “Aunt Dot had her jalopy in there a while ago.”
“Oh,” Danny said, “what did she bring in?” He seemed a bit shy and ill at ease, as usual.
“A small green car. It was three or four months ago now.”
“What was the make and model?”
“Ah, I don’t know. I don’t pay attention to that stuff. But she’s a little old lady with bad knees.”
“Ah, I know her, I think. Bad timing chain.”
“She liked you. She’ll probably be back.”
Danny smiled a small smile and looked at his feet. “Sooner than later, I’m afraid, with the state of that car.”
Isla sighed, “We should get her into something more reliable.” Danny just nodded and Isla turned her attention from him. “So Dave, did you sign Phil up for a class yet?” It was a running gag, yoga being the last thing Phil would ever consider doing.
“You’re not going to get me in tights,” Phil said emphatically.
“You don’t have to wear tights,” Dave chimed in. “In fact please, please don’t.”
“Is that a fat joke?” Phil roared as Dave shook his head, “I don’t think I’m flexible enough to do yoga.”
“In more ways than one,” Kim added wryly.
“How about you, Danny? Do you go in for yoga?” Isla noticed that when he wasn’t being spoken to, Danny’s eyes darted around the room nervously, resting occasionally on one of the prints that Kim had taken from antique books and framed. Isla was a talker on a mission to draw shy people out of their shell. Sometimes it worked, as with Kim. Sometimes it didn’t.
“No, um, I get enough of a workout just doing my work,” he said, a bit overly serious. “Seems silly to pay someone to use up your energy for you. No offense,” he directed at Dave, who put out his hands to say, “None taken.”
“What about Perry? Signed him up for a session or two?” Isla laughed at her own joke because Perry was the last person she ever imagined in Dave’s classes.
“Ah, no. But he let me scrub out a few of the more crude expletives in the stairwell.”
“Well, that’s progress! Hey, you need to get up some eye-catching signs. I hope there’s something allowing for that in your lease.” Dave looked chagrined. “There isn’t?”
“I, uh . . . I’d better look over the particulars again. I’m sure Perry will let me have a sign, though. I’ll bring him around.”
“You will?” Isla laughed a brief, irrepressible laugh, “Perry can be . . .”
“Stubborn?” Dave suggested.
“Extremely consistent,” Isla said, to put a more positive spin on it.
“You like Perry, don’t you?” Dave smiled.
“Perry’s great,” Isla laughed, “I love a good curmudgeon. Anyway, Dave says you’re not allowed to not like people, right, Dave?” Dave laughed and shrugged.
“Not allowed to?” Danny said abruptly, “Who governs that?”
“Well, I don’t know. Conscience? Kindness? Compassion? Empathy? Karma? God?” Isla threw out options, then laughed and added, “But Dave’s the one who tells me stuff like that.”
Danny hesitated, then, his natural reserve making him awkward, blurted, “Some people are just bad, though. There’s no liking them.”
Isla laughed incredulously. “Which people? Who gets to decide that? People probably think I’m bad, but I wish they’d give me a chance.” Isla’s bantering mood was doused when her eyes met Danny’s serious gaze for a tense moment. Danny didn’t say anything, didn’t rush to assure her how likable she was, just looked at a spot on the brown paisley rug. Isla felt the knot in her stomach but refused to admit to herself that she wanted that assurance.
“Coffee?” Kim offered. She went to retrieve the fixings from the kitchen and Phil started running his mouth to lighten the mood. When she came back, while everyone, Danny included, was still snickering at Phil’s jokes and rolling their eyes, she whispered one word to Dave, whose face became serious as he left for the back door. He was shoving his slender wallet back in the pocket of his joggers as he returned a few minutes later. Isla raised an eyebrow, but Dave didn’t look at her.
“I think I’d better get going,” Danny prepared to make his exit. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”
“Oh no, we were just going to get out some board games,” Kim said.
“Work starts early tomorrow,” he smiled his small smile again, “I’ve had a great time.”
“Thanks so much for coming,” Phil said, rising to his feet.
“It was nice to see you again,” he said to Dave. “You, too,” he said to Isla, looking at the floor as if that’s where the script was located.
“And you,” Isla smiled too broadly to make up for Danny’s reserved manner.
When the door had closed behind him, Isla said, “You guys take the kids up. Dave and I can put stuff away and then we’ll be ready for a game when you get back.”
Dave was distant as they quietly began cleaning up the clutter of the day, odd plates and mugs left lying about. Isla tried to draw him out by playfully splashing soap bubbles on him from the sink where they were doing dishes. He smiled and splashed her back until she shrieked and they both were laughing.
“Where did you go back there?” she asked him when he seemed to be in a good mood.
“Where?” he said, still smiling, but cagey.
“When Kim came and got you.”
“Oh, nowhere. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I want to know.”
“There’s nothing to know.”
Suddenly Phil boomed behind them, “I think I’d like to know, as well. It’s no good for a man’s lodger and his wife to keep secrets from him, now is it?”
Dave dried his hands impatiently. “It’s no big deal. There’s a girl I met, a young woman. She’s . . . having a rough patch and I’ve been trying to help her out. Kim knows. That’s all.”
“Well, that’s a silly thing to keep secret,” said Isla, disappointed and still suspicious.
Dave was preparing to protest, something to the effect that it wasn’t his story to tell. Kim had come in for a plastic kiddie cup of water and was fending off attempts on Phil and Isla’s part to waylay her. Isla was getting ready to playfully give Dave a hard time about this girl, when someone knocked at the door.
“The Tupperware is in the fridge,” Kim said, hastily herding Isla and Phil in confusion back into the dining room.
“WHAT is going on?” Isla demanded. Phil looked at Kim gravely and followed her into the hall. Isla knew she shouldn’t follow and she didn’t want to anyway; she moved back to where she could see surreptitiously into the kitchen.
A girl, a woman, was standing there talking to Dave. She was maybe 21, maybe 32, it was hard to tell. Her thin hair was in a ponytail. She was wearing baggy gray sweatpants rolled down at the waist and a purple hoodie, unzipped. It looked like maybe it belonged to a child, the cuffs falling between the wrists and elbows of her bony forearms. Her arms were covered with red scratches and sores. Her too-big t-shirt was from the Red Cross, thanking her for giving blood. Bet they gave it back, Isla thought before she could check herself, bet they thanked her NOT to give blood.
She felt a twinge of guilt, but then Isla noticed Dave and that knot was back in her stomach. He was standing with his back to Isla, nervously moving his hand in and out of his pockets, pulling on his earlobe, smoothing his own ponytail. He motioned for the girl to sit at the kitchen table. She heard the refrigerator, then the microwave. Dave put the Tupperware of leftovers and a fork in front of the stranger and sat beside her. She ate and occasionally said something, and he would smile a half smile or laugh nervously.
Kim came up behind Isla as she was gesturing and moving her lips, practicing the speech she would give Dave later about how he needed to get away from this situation.
“Oh!” she said to Kim. “What is this? What is going on?”
Kim put her finger to her lips and shut the dining room door.
“He met her one night at the . . .”
“How long ago?” Isla interrupted.
“Oh,” Kim paused to calculate. “Three, four months now?”
“And he met her where?”
“At the . . . well, at the studio.”
“She does yoga?” Isle shot Kim a skeptical look.
“She was at the studio, and he got to know her a little bit,” Kim said evasively.
“Yes, yes, ok, but WHAT is going ON?”
“He’s helping her.”
“She’s wearing his shirt!”
Kim shrugged. “Hers was in rough shape.”
“But he’s, but he’s . . .” Isla shook her head several times, “Kim, I can’t, I won’t even say it, I don’t want to say it, but he’s acting like . . . he’s acting weird. You know, he’s acting like . . . and she’s . . . gah . . .”. Kim was imperturbable. She raised an eyebrow as if she couldn’t comprehend what Isla was hinting at. Isla shook her head again in dismay and cracked open the door, then shut it quickly. “Kim! Kim! They are sharing that triple chocolate cake you made! They are eating from ONE PIECE.”
“Good grief, sharing cake, I hope they’re wearing protection.”
Isla ignored the sarcasm from her sweet-natured friend. “Seriously, I know it isn’t possible. I know Dave is too smart and too . . . healthy . . . but he . . . just tell me . . . is something more going on?”
“You really should ask Dave yourself, I guess, if you think it’s any of your business, but . . . he would not pursue a relationship with her, if that’s what you’re implying. She is vulnerable, and he wouldn’t ever take advantage . . . I don’t believe he would. That’s not Dave.”
“Ha! Take advantage! Take advantage! She’s the one taking advantage!” Isla was apoplectic.
Kim sternly gestured that Isla needed to keep it down, then whispered, “She’s hungry.”
“But for what, though?”
“For food,” Kim said sadly, “Isla . . . be kind. This isn’t your heart talking.”
“But Dave. Does he give her money? I know he does, but please tell me he doesn’t.” Kim didn’t answer. “How stupid can he be?! Have you seen her arms?”
“What do you think he should do?” Kim’s voice was gentle and earnest.
“Get her professional help and step away!”
“She doesn’t want it. In fact, Isla, between you and me . . . she may be involved in . . . some illegal activities and she may not, at this point in time, want to give them up.”
“No kidding. He should . . . he should . . .”
“He should what? Just ditch her? Leave her hungry and cold on the streets? Are you saying that people can’t even try to help each other out anymore if they’re not part of a program? If they’re not certified? Can’t humans just be human together?” There was genuine curiosity in Kim’s honest questions.
Isla sat heavily on a chair. “I’m not trying to be mean, I’m really not. But it’s dangerous, you know? He’s enabling, you know? He’s helping her hurt herself.”
“How would actually helping look different? I mean, maybe he can only offer help. She’s the only one who can decide what to do with the help. Right?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know. This is not the way. It can’t be. Helping people always seemed so much easier and more possible as an abstract idea . . .”
Kim sat next to her. “Isn’t that the truth?”
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