Page 3 of Comeback
I’d fallen in love with Bayfield in the two months since our move. It was a calm, quiet, charming little cottage town—population just over 1,100—located right off the sandy shores of Lake Huron. The downtown strip, Main Street, was dotted with boutique shops, art and craft studios, and restaurants, including Perry’s, the French restaurant where I was hired three weeks ago.
The pace of life here was leisurely, soothing,safe. It was just what I needed after feeling so trapped, suffocated and unsafe in Toronto.
And I had my cousin to thank for giving me the fresh start.
Nicole was basically like a sister to me—maybe evencloserthan a sister because only three months separated us in age. We grew up and experienced everything together: from the play-dates our moms arranged before we could even walk to being in the same kindergarten class, from sharing secrets about our very first crushes to our wild, boy-crazed high school days.
Growing up, Nicole’s household was alwaysopen to me. Her parents were the complete opposite of mine—they were free spirits with alaissez-faireapproach to parenting. Nicole didn’t even have to ask her parents for permission to have me over for dinner or stay the night. I was always welcome at their house, no questions asked, and I was only a five-minute bike ride away.
My parents? Well … my dad was a nasty alcoholic. With a short temper and lots of rules. Rules that he never announced, rules that he changed without telling you, rules that he made up on the fly to justify his latest drunken rage. My mom was a good person, but she didn’t possess the strength to stand up for herself, or her daughter. That was why I spent so much time at Nicole’s—Dad was a mean drunk, and it felt like Mom didn’t even care.
Nicole and I were as close as could be … before we fell out of touch for years. Part of that was because of Trevor.
I met my ex when I was seventeen. He was twenty-three and had a good job in the Army. He only waited a month before he asked me to move in with him. Desperate to get out of my house, I jumped at the opportunity. Nicole thought I was insane—but she didn’t have a household like mine. She wouldn’t understand, she couldn’t understand, and we fought about it.
In the end, it didn’t matter, because it wasmydecision and I thought Trevor and I were in love.
Trevor seemed sweet and shy at first, but he had a funny habit of finding something wrong with all my friends and family. He strongly disapproved of Nicole, to put it lightly. And I guess I found it easier to let loved ones fizzle out of my life rather than risk pissing Trevor off by keeping “bad influences” around.
Soon, I found myself totally isolated. Before I knew it, I was a mother to a little girl, had no friends, and years had passed since Nicole and I last talked.
Alas, here we were, both twenty-three years old and living under the same roof, and it was like nothing ever changed. What could I really say, besides life works in mysterious ways?
***
Iunlocked the front door and the sweet, woodsy scent of Nag Champa incense filled my nostrils.
“I’m home!”
I heard Mackenzie’s excited footsteps stamping through the living room. She rounded the corner, an anxious smile on her sweet face.
“Hi, pumpkin!” I said. She jumped into my outstretched arms and I scooped her up. “Oof,you’re getting heavy.”
She laid her head on my shoulder without a word. I kissed the top of her head. Her blonde curls were still baby-soft.
“How was your day?” I asked.
Her answer came in the form of a breathy exhale. Her tiny hands clutched at my shoulder, gripping me so tightly it almost hurt.
“Did you have fun with Aunt Nicole?”
Still no answer—but I wasn’t going to stop trying to get her to talk, no matter what.
I squeezed Mack’s bare little foot. “Can you tell me where Aunt Nicole is?”
She gave a nod and silently pointed towards the living room.
“Let’s go say hi, then.”
I carried her into the living room. An episode ofPeppa Pigplayed silently on the TV. Nicole, wearing a drapey ankle-length skirt and a tight tank topsansbra, sat on the floor with her legs folded butterfly-style. Her laptop glowed atop the coffee table. The living room floor was a mess of disassembled cardboard boxes, packing materials, and neatly stacked boxes that were ready to be mailed.
“Hey, Nicky,” I said.
“Sup, Ems,” she answered as she continued to fill orders.
“Any trouble with Mack?” I asked.
“Well, she cried for a few hours after you left. I tried to cheer her up, but …” Nicole trailed off. “She just misses her mommy, I think. Anyway, once she finally calmed down, she was as quiet as a mouse, like always.”
