#chapter fifty-nine

Marion MacTavish opened the door to her son, and smiled seeing him there. He wore a grey suit and a wine-coloured button-down shirt, and a navy vest, and he held out the flowers to her with a dimpled smile, and Marion was filled with love and pride for him.

“Don’t you look handsome,” Marion said, bringing him inside the apartment and taking the flowers and the wine from him. He stopped to take off his shoes, putting the warm paper bag of food on the floor beside him.

“Leave your shoes, Honey, they’re fine.”

Mattie already had one off, and was untying the other. “No, I’m taking them off.” He took the other off and placed them next to the door, at the wall, and stood, picking the paper bag up. He knew his way around his mother’s apartment, and like Amber, she didn’t move furniture without letting him know and showing him. He followed her to the little kitchen, and she took the bag from him.

“How are you, Ma?” he asked, leaning forward until he felt her cheek next to his and he kissed it, feeling her put her arms around him.

“I’m doing okay, Love. How are you doing?” She looked at him as he took off his suit jacket and walked back to the main living area and put it over the back of the overstuffed sofa before he returned to her.

“I’m okay, too,” he said with a smile directed where he thought she was standing. “You want me to open that wine?”

“That would be great, just let me grab the opener. It has a big handle, geriatric-style.”

He shrugged with a grin. “It’s okay, I have geriatric-style stuff, too, you know.” He took the bottle opener from her and explored it under his fingers. His mother’s fingers touched his, showing him how to work it, and he moved to the counter where she’d placed the wine. She slid it directly in front of him and moved to get utensils and wine glasses.

Once seated together in the living room, comfortably, informally, they caught up on their weeks.

Marion had had three shots of cortisone in her hip, and it had done wonders. The other hip felt better because of it, and she’d celebrated by going to Harps Gardens with her friends.

“I got lots of beautiful pictures of flowers, so much colour, Mattie. I wish I could show them to you.”

He smiled. “It’s okay, Mum. I guess I don’t miss looking at flower photo albums anyway.”

“True,” she said, a chuckle in her word.

“I’m glad you went, though. I heard they have a tactile garden.”

“Yes, I wanted to tell you that. They have a square of raised beds filled with plants and flowers that either have interesting leaves or blossoms to touch, like Lamb’s Ear, or have strong scents, and they have everything labelled in front of each plant with Braille plaques. I thought of you, I thought how wonderful it is to have information and inclusion at places like that. And I may have taken photos of the plaques, because for one second I thought I could show you how they made these things you could read. Isn’t that dumb? I remembered and forgot all in the same moment.”

“No, I do that, too. So does Amber, and Pete. I think that’s probably a good thing. I means we all know but forget about it except subconsciously, right?”

“So very true. And it is good, Mattie. It’s good.”

Mattie smiled at her. “Sometimes it feels like seeing was a dream. I forget that I could see for so many years. It’s been so long now. And sometimes it feels like yesterday. You know, I wake up in the morning sometimes, and I remember my dreams, the colours, the images... and it feels so close. And I can remember them all morning, and I feel like I got to see for a moment just to remind me, but then, by around two o’clock, it all fades again and I have a hard time conjuring them up. I think my brain is too exhausted with the other sensory input and trying to sort all that out that it can’t keep those images in there long. I mean, no-one can, right? I know that memory doesn’t really do well with visual-imagery without refreshing. And since I can’t refresh my visual memories, they just fade out fast, and it all goes back to dark in here.”

“I wish you could keep the colours,” his mother said.

“It’s okay. I can still remember colours; I can picture them when I try. I think.” He stopped. “Wouldn’t it be weird if what I thought were still the same colours had changed so much in my head that if you saw what I imagine as a certain colour to be you’d know I was way off after four years?”

His mother thought on that. “Well,” she said objectionably. “That could be true. But if it works in your reality, then who cares?”

Mattie chuckled, reaching for his wine from the table in front of him. “Touché, Ma-ma.”

“So, how is work?” Marion opened the paper bag and brought out the Styrofoam packages, sorting them and putting Mattie’s in front of him on the coffee table. She handed him napkins and a fork.

“It’s good. It always takes a bit to connect to the students... especially now. But I think once I do, it’s actually a better connection. I really didn’t know if any of the ways I use to teach would work when I started this all over again. I was making it all up as I went. But they seem to get more out of it, somehow.”

“That’s why you’re the one with the tenure, Matt. You’re always teaching and always learning and nothing gets stale. It’s different. You interact more. It gives them something new and different, and that gets their attention.”

“I dunno, but it’s working,” Mattie said, finding the two containers in front of him and getting himself situated.

“Have you had any more trouble from that ass-hole professor?” she asked him.

“Mum!” he said, agape. “He’s a distinguished and esteemed member of the college, you know.”

“He’s an idiot.”

Mattie couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face and he laughed. “Well, he hasn’t made any effort to acknowledge me at all this year, and I’m completely fine with that.”

“Good,” she said. “Do you want any of my rice?”

Mattie shook his head. “I have enough here,” he said. “Is there anything of mine you want to try?”

He held the containers while she took a couple of forkfuls of his chow mein to try and he continued. “I’m hoping he just realises that we both teach there, and we both have our own niche, and we don’t have to have any issues because there’s no reason for it.”

“Unless you both have a chance for the dean’s chair,” his mother stated.

Mattie’s fork stopped mid-air. “Dean’s chair? No, Mum, I’m not going to be up for that. I’m too young and too... there’s too much against me for that.”

“Maybe not tomorrow,” his mother told him. “But the dean will retire one day. And you are already tenured. And this professor must think that you have a chance, too, or he wouldn’t be bothered. He’s seniority. You’ve won the favour of the dean. He thinks you’ll get a pity vote, but you’ve already proved that wrong, it’s a vote for your competence at your job. He’s worried, Mattie, that his future isn’t so set in stone as he thought it was.”

“Well. I’m not looking to take his job away,” Mattie said. “I’m happy where I am. I like teaching. And I have more time to write and read at this job.”

Marion smiled at her son. “I know,” she said. “And if that’s where you’re happy, then you enjoy it, Sweetie. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Mattie blushed, and he let the compliment sit without making light with a joke.

“You know, Matthew, I used to wonder, after the accident, how your life would have been if it hadn’t happened. I thought about it too much. It made me feel so sad for all the losses. But I’ve stopped thinking that way, because... that life was never yours to have. I see that now, looking back. I don’t think you would have ever been content.”

Mattie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You thought were going to be married to Karen. That wouldn’t have made you happy in the end. She and you weren’t that much alike. It just never seemed right to me, but I knew it wasn’t my place to say anything to you. I didn’t see any sparks there that should have been obvious to me. You always needed more, you needed challenges. That’s why we moved you ahead in school. If you had sat in that class, bored, you wouldn’t have worked as hard. But putting you with people who were a bit further gave you the challenge to work harder. You didn’t get bored and give up. The more challenges in your way, the better you did, and the more success you had. And you were excited about those things, you know. You used to come home from school with all these new things you were learning, and they let you read the books from the older kids’ novels, and the more words and the more ideas you could take in, the more you wanted. I always thought that if you were settled down that quickly with Karen... you’d lose your inquisitive nature. You might have just settled and lived a quiet life with work and home and had no challenges or adventure. Take the kids to Disney when they’re seven. The usual... and it wasn’t ever for you, Matthew. You’d have become stagnant. I bet if you were in that life, there would have been no wall climbing, would there?” Mattie shook his head and his mother continued. “Or kayaking, or... what do you call that other thing that you and Amber did? Zip-lining, that’s it. Do you think that would have been done, you and Karen would do that?”

Again, Mattie shook his head.

“And you’re in a band, Matt, how cool is that? Would you be doing that now if you were in that old life, with Karen and a kid or two?”

Mattie shrugged and shook his head. “No, probably not. I kind of had let the piano practising go by the wayside before.”

“You’ve found a whole set of new challenges,” Marion said. “You’re not going to sit contentedly until you meet them. And while I would never ever say that your accident was a good thing, or that you losing your sight was the best thing to happen... it’s not, Hun. But it’s given your life something much more than you ever would have had before. It didn’t just take away things.”

Mattie nodded. “I know, Mum.”

“I’m so glad you’re living your life so well, I’m so glad you’ve become comfortable with yourself and content with your life.”

Mattie smiled, but it wasn’t as broad. “I am, Mum, but... it gets lonely. I mean, everyone around me is partnered up and I’m alone. I don’t think it’s going to happen for me, but I hate being left behind when everyone else is moving into that life.”

Marion looked at her son, his hand sneaking into the container of Chinese vegetables to feel if there was anything left, and then he scraped the last of the chow mein up with his fork.

“We’ve talked about this before. And I think you are mistaken that you will end up alone. I think it’s going to surprise you when it happens, but don’t close yourself off to it, Matt. Be open to the notion of love again. I know you’ve been hurt too many times, but don’t scar up that heart. It needs to be open for that special person when she comes.”

He sighed. “I’ll try,” he said.

“As long as you’re alive, Mattie, there is all the possibility in the world. You’ve already accomplished things others would give up on. So don’t you give up on that.”

He nodded. “Okay. I promise.”

“Good. I love you, Mattie. You listen to your mother.”

Mattie’s smile grew. He put one empty container on the table and leaned over to find his mother’s shoulder. She reached up as he leaned in and they embraced.

“This day could be a bad anniversary,” she told him, “but for me, it’s a gift, because you were given back to me instead of taken. I told people that, when the shock of everything had calmed down. People heard about you, and they told me how sorry they were, and it felt like...” His mother stopped. It had felt like they were sorry he had lived to be blind. “I wasn’t sorry. I told them they didn’t have to say they were sorry. That you are the best gift I ever received, and you were given to me twice. How lucky must I be?”

She put her hand to her son’s cheek, her eyes full of love for him.

Her words touched him. He reached up and put his hand over hers. “They say the same things to me. I feel sometimes like they think it would have been better for me if I’d not made it.”

“You don’t think that, though, do you?”

Mattie shook his head immediately. He didn’t need a moment to ponder it.

“Good,” Marion said, her hand still on his cheek, pressed under his palm. “Don’t you ever believe you would have been better off not coming back from that.”

Mattie pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, nodding to her. “I have moments where it creeps up on me. But I don’t feel like that much these days. Not like I used to.”

“Good,” Marion said again. “And everyone has those days, Sweetie. For different reasons.”

Mattie nearly met her gaze. “I know, Mum,” he said, knowing she had her own days to bear.

She patted his hand. “Now. We still have plenty of time before Amber and Riley stop in. What would you like to do?”

“I should have brought a deck of cards, we could have played.”

“I have cards,” she replied quickly, and then stopped. “No, wait, I don’t. They won’t do.”

“Just printed?” Mattie said with a little smile.

“Yup, just printed. Sorry, Hun.”

“It’s okay. I’ll get you a pack that we can both use for next time.”

“Yes, please do.”

“Can I get you anything? More wine? Tea?”

“I’m perfect right now,” she said. “Just perfect.”

Mattie switched topics, leaning back against the thick cushion of the sofa. “What do you think of Amber’s beau?”

His mother nodded, a smile fresh on her face. “I like him. I really like him. I don’t want to jinx it, but... he seriously could be the one. What do you think?”

Mattie nodded as well, agreeing with her. “Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t want to like him as much as I do. I don’t know why. Maybe because I still like Craig. I still talk to him now. Or maybe it was because I didn’t want everyone around me to be in relationships. But I can’t help it. He’s a really nice guy, and he genuinely likes her. And she’s a mess for him, too. He’s successful and likes what he does. I guess I’m happy for her.” He grinned after he said that and he heard his mother laugh.

“Be happy for your sister,” she admonished him. “She deserves to be happy, she’s been through enough.”

“I know,” Mattie said. “I am.”

His mother couldn’t help but reach up and touch a curl of hair that stood up on the top of his head. “Your time’s coming, too,” she told him.

“Leaves are all turned now,” Amber told Mattie as they walked behind their house along the old road. They’d been both feeling housebound because it had gotten cold quickly, but the sun was out and Amber suggested they get some fresh air before the rain came. “They’ll probably come down with the rain.”

“I’ll miss them again this year, then,” Mattie said, and Amber rolled her eyes, but didn’t answer. He liked to be a bit absurd.

“Your maple tree looks pretty spectacular,” Amber informed him.

“The one out front? Yeah, it always puts on a show, doesn’t it?”

Amber scanned the trees along the edge of the wood line, wishing for the millionth time she could let him see them just for a moment.

“Ry has to go to Halifax this week so he’s taking me to Montréal next weekend, did I tell you that?” Amber asked him.

“No. You mentioned something about Halifax but not about going away. Good for you.”

“It’s just for a weekend.”

“What, are you asking my permission? You’re a grown-up. Have fun.”

“I know. I wasn’t. Did you get your fireplace and wood furnace cleaned?” Amber deflected. She worried about him when she went away, and she knew that he wouldn’t like that one bit.

“Yup, had the fire department do it a couple of weeks ago. All safe and sound. Can you see the smoke?”

Amber nodded, seeing a trail of smoke coming from the chimney of the house ahead. “I can smell it, too. You’re not the only one with super-smell.”

“Well, it’s not that far away,” Mattie said. “But, still good. You’re paying attention.”

“Are you getting a pumpkin for Hallowe’en this year? That was fun last year.”

Mattie nodded, remembering the feel of the pumpkin guts, the smell that reminded him of childhood Hallowe’ens, the time together with his sister. “Yeah, it was fun. But you’ll be doing yours with Riley, won’t you?”

“Well, I can do both,” she replied. “Or maybe we could have a big pumpkin party.”

“Any excuse for a party,” Mattie said.

“Well, I don’t mean party when I say party. You know I just like my gang together.”

“I thought it was my gang,” Mattie said.

“I bet Peter thinks it’s his gang,” Amber said, and Mattie laughed.

They reached the house and Mattie invited his sister in, but she had chores to finish up. Her man would be over later and she didn’t want the house to look like a complete tip.

“You think he’d live there?” Mattie asked her before she left.

Amber shrugged. “He seems to like the house. He seems to like the country. I don’t know how he feels about the commute to work, though. I don’t know. I haven’t been brave enough to ask him.”

“But you want a future with him,” Mattie stated.

“Yes. I... I think so.”

“You should probably find out,” Mattie told her.

She sighed. “I know.”

He smiled at her. “How could he not love it here?” he said. “You might be surprised.”

Amber reached out and touched his arm before turning to go.

“That’s getting nasty out,” Amber said, letting Fiánne through her doorway before pushing the door shut against the wind and rain. She shook her hair and undid the buttons on her coat. Fiánne did the same, and they kicked off their shoes.

She had gone to town in the afternoon for groceries, and she’d arranged to pick Fiánne up after her workday. She’d driven Fiánne to her little apartment close by, and went in to wait for her new friend to get her stuff to come out for the weekend.

The weather forecast had them making plans to drink wine and watch funny movies all night, and both were cheerful, though the drive out had been miserable, to say the least.

“Are you damp? Do you want to change into something else?”

“I’m okay,” Fiánne replied.

“Well, I’m starving, and I can’t wait to eat. I made lasagne and I just have to heat it up. Sticks to the ribs. It’s spinach, not meat, I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s my favourite,” Fiánne answered with a smile.

“Well, get your bib on, it’s gonna be worth it,” Amber teased her. She turned on the television in the living room before they headed to the kitchen to put the lasagne in the oven. “You can just chill, it’s not gonna take much, we just have to wait. We can have some wine and get our movies ready.”

They had finished their glass of wine when the lasagne was ready, and Amber poured them each another and served up their plates, and they headed back to the living room. Amber had blankets they could pull around them, and they were warm from the wine and the lasagne. Amber had turned up the heat; unlike Mattie’s, her place had been fitted with electric baseboards, and so the woodstove was only used in the winter months to counteract the draughts.

Fiánne took another sip of wine. “I feel stupid not realising that that was your brother that was blind,” she admitted. “I’m really sorry.”

Amber grinned at her. “He was quite pleased,” she told the younger woman.

“Really?” she said. “I just totally assumed he was your other brother. I should never assume anything, I end up embarrassing everyone.”

“Well, it’s not like either one of us gave you many clues. He doesn’t come across as blind in his own home, for sure.”

Fiánne nodded, but said nothing.

“I should have said, though. I really didn’t even think about it going that way. Anyway, he was complimented, don’t worry.”

Fiánne returned Amber’s smile, feeling a little better. She’d been feeling stupid about the whole thing since it had happened, but she knew it was probably being blown up in her own mind and the actual conversation hadn’t been so bad after all.

“He’s very nice,” Fiánne said. “You’re both nice.” She grinned at Amber and Amber smiled back. “Thanks for inviting me out here again,” she added.

“Hey, anytime. It’s fun.”

Amber had learned that Fiánne was a full nine years younger than she, and though the girl’s appearance was youthful enough, her soul and her eyes seemed so much older. Her sombre character added to the notion that she was much older. She seemed to be comfortable and capable of talking about any subject, and while she hadn’t been to university or college, she had read enough on all sorts of topics that she had an understanding of anything Amber mentioned. She liked to learn things on her own, she told Amber, who nodded, understanding. Amber knew all about people like that, having been the older sister to one in particular. They weren’t content to just sit and let things wash over them. They needed to learn why and how and where it all started.

It was all well and good, Amber thought, but this girl needed to laugh. She needed to be away from that deep mind of hers, and out from whatever fear or mistrust she was holding onto. And Amber, being the kind of person who liked to look after people whether they needed it or not, could not let this girl sit in her apartment, alone, afraid, and with no-one to share her thoughts on all the things she had read.

The wine loosened Fiánne a little, and Amber discovered the girl had a very quick and sarcastic wit, and an infectious laugh. Amber liked her more and more. She had thought Fiánne was quiet, maybe a bit intimidated or a follower, but she realised that assessment had also been wrong. She could tell just by the way the younger woman dressed, that she had a mind of her own, and it was creative, original, and unique. Fiánne liked layers, she liked ruffles, wool, plaids, and stripes. She liked chiffon skirts with knee-high lace-up boots. She had her own style, and Amber loved it, wishing she were more adventurous in her own dress. She felt envious of Fiánne’s lean, languid body, and her long, honey brown waves that fell to her waist, and she felt frumpy and dumpy beside her.

The first movie done, they loaded in a second, and Amber went to get another wine bottle. The wind was rattling at the windows in gusts and she could see the tree near the kitchen window waving and trembling. She saw leaves blowing across the deck from the porch light, and she imagined what the wind had done to the trees and their show of colours.

She returned to the living room after opening the wine. “Need anything?” Amber asked.

“I’m just going to use your bathroom,” Fiánne said, getting up, letting the blanket drop back to the chesterfield. “Don’t hit play yet.”

“I won’t. No worries.” She put the wine on the table and went back to the kitchen for the package of gummi bears she’d brought home. The lights flickered and held. She looked at them, as if to warn them not to go out, and continued back to the living room, where Fiánne had just returned.

“Okay,” said Amber. “We have candy, wine, and blankets. I’d say we are ready for the next show.”

She hit play on the remote, and the house went dark.

“Shit,” said Amber. “I think I turned the power off the whole place.”

“Uh oh,” said Fiánne. “Now what?”

“I guess a tree blew onto a power line or something. It flickered when you were in the bathroom and I worried that it might... Well, crap, now how can we watch our movie?” She sat for a minute in the dark, waiting to see if the power came back on, but nothing happened.

“Well... the electric heat isn’t going to work. My lights aren’t going to work. My TV isn’t going to work. The wine works, but sitting here in the cold isn’t fun. Crap. I’m sorry, Fee.”

“It’s not your fault,” Fiánne said. “Besides, if I was at home, I’d be sitting alone the same way. This way, I have company.”

“And wine.”

“Yes, and wine,” Fiánne giggled.

Amber stood up. “Well, I guess I should find us a flashlight and some candles.” She glanced out the dark window.

“I have a better idea,” she said, turning back to Fiánne. “I’m going to get a couple of flashlights. Come with me, and then get the blankets and your stuff and the wine.”

“What are we doing?” Fiánne asked.

Amber pulled two flashlights out of a drawer in the hallway, and gave one to Fiánne. She went to the kitchen and picked up the phone, hitting the speed-dial for her brother.

It didn’t take him long to answer. Unlike her, he didn’t have to figure out how to get to the phone in the dark.

“Hey, Xav, power out?”

“Yup. You?”

“Yup.”

“So you’re in the dark, huh?” Mattie said, and Amber could hear the grin in his words.

“Yep. And it’s cold and creaky and noisy and dark and we have gummi bears.”

“So... I take it you want to come over.”

“Can we?”

“We?”

“Fiánne’s here.”

“Oh. Uh, well, yeah, of course. Can’t have you guys freezing over there in the dark. Told’ja you should have cleaned that chimney before now.”

“Yeah, well, all well and good now, isn’t it,” Amber said.

“Why aren’t you here yet?” Mattie asked. “Stop talking and get walking.”

Amber snorted. “Good bye,” she said, hanging up, and heading back to the living room.

“Sorted,” she said.

“What’s up?” Fiánne asked, getting the blankets.

“Xav will look after us. He’s much better in the dark than we are, and he has wood fire. We can have heat and tea and he can read to us in the dark. Or we can play a game, he has Braille games. I’ll take some candles, but I think there are some over there. That way, at least we can see the game, since I don’t know Braille without a guide, and I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

“Nope. I don’t,” Fiánne said.

“Is it okay? You don’t mind going over there, do you?”

Fiánne shook her head. She didn’t mind at all. As long as she didn’t say anything else that would make the MacTavishes think she was stupid.

“I think he wants company, too. It’ll be far too quiet to him. I think I’ll take my pjs, too. Who knows when the power will be back on, it could be hours. It’ll be way warmer over there. We can hunker down in the house you like so much.”

Fiánne was glad it was dark and Amber couldn’t see her blush. It wasn’t the house that was giving her butterflies in her stomach.

They pulled their coats and hoods up and tied them snugly against the weather. They threw the bags over their shoulders and each of them took a blanket, which Amber put in garbage bags to keep dry. Amber grabbed the wine bottle and they readied themselves at the door. Amber opened it and Fiánne pushed past her into the wind. Amber pulled the door securely behind them and headed down the steps, feeling the push and pull of the wind. They were hit with sheets of cold rain as they headed across the field towards the dark shape of Mattie’s house.

Fiánne followed Amber to the back porch, and Amber knocked twice and opened the door. Mattie was there, greeting them, taking their coats.

“You didn’t need to bring blankets,” Mattie said. “I have plenty.”

“Well, we were snuggled in these ones watching movies. And we brought wine.”

Mattie grinned. “Well, I guess we don’t want to let that go to waste. It’s really raining out there, you guys are soaked.”

“I think I’ll change now,” Amber said. “We brought our jammies, I knew we’d get wet crossing the field. You want to change, too, Fee?”

Fiánne nodded, and followed Amber with her bag and her flashlight, and Mattie got down wine glasses and took the blankets into the living room. He had brought wood upstairs for the little wood stove in the kitchen. When he had had the wood furnace installed years ago, he’d had the little kitchen stove cleaned and refitted and he used it on the coldest days to heat the kitchen which was mostly separate from the main house. When the power went out, this stove doubled as a place to heat water for tea, soup, washing, or boiling. He’d already lit it when the weather started getting worse, and he turned the damper down, keeping the fire small. Now, Amber could start a fire in the fireplace in the living room if she wanted. It would give light and warmth and the comfortable sound of snapping and crackling.

He had candles somewhere. He remembered he and Amber finding them and putting them away for emergencies. Mattie had said the only emergency he’d need them for would be if he needed something to burn the house down for some reason. She told him there might be a romantic emergency some day, and put the candles into a box. Maybe it was in the kitchen, Mattie thought, trying to remember.

When the girls came back from changing, which Mattie teased them about, saying he wasn’t going to watch anyway, he had the living room ready for them, blankets, wine, glasses, and he’d found his lighter, which would light the candles Amber would have to find. He welcomed the voices that filled the air around him. The house had gone so suddenly quiet, and the outside had come in to him. Now, the wind and the trees and the rain were all back outside the walls, which weren’t so audibly sighing anymore, at least not to Mattie.

He set Amber to finding the candles, which she seemed to think were indeed in the kitchen, in a cupboard above the refrigerator or maybe in the corner one.

He turned back to Fiánne. “Come in, sit, make yourself at home.”

“Thanks for having us crash over here,” Fiánne said, following the beam from her flashlight to his chesterfield.

“No problem, I’m glad you guys came over. Amber would have shown up anyway, and if I hadn’t answered the phone, she would have just come.” He chuckled, putting her at ease.

“It’s nice and warm and dry in here,” she said. “This house is so nice. I like how it has the kitchen on the back. You’re lucky to have the wood stove and fireplace.”

“It’s pretty old, but it’s so comfortable,” Mattie said. “Yeah, you can tell this house was built in parts. That kitchen keeps the house from getting hot in the summer, or at least it did in the old days, and in the winter, for extra heat, I light that stove and keep that door open and the heat just flows in here, because the ceiling is higher and it’s a step up. They were practical in so many ways.”

“I love a place with history,” Fiánne said, still peering around the room with her flashlight.

“This place was sort of added onto over time, but not as much as one down the road,” Mattie said. “I remember going into that as a kid. You’d go into a room, and then further through another doorway into another room, and then off to the far right there was another doorway, and then you could go right up stairs, or left to another room, maybe a sun room. And if you went up the stairs, then you followed this narrow walk around the open staircase and through this door that took you back into the main house, and you could totally tell when you went through that it was a different house you were going into. It was a step and everything. And then in another part, you walked through what seemed like a long closet and came out in another section.”

“Is it still there?” Fiánne asked.

“Yeah, some of the family came back, grandkids, and one got married and they moved in and fixed it up a lot and now they have their family there. They may have redone some of the interior, I’m not sure,” Mattie said.

“Wow, that sounds so very neat,” Fiánne said.

“Found them!” called Amber, and they heard her slide a chair across the floor and then her footsteps returning from the kitchen.

“Oh, good,” Mattie said, smiling. “At least now you’ll be able to see.”

“Yup,” Amber said. “Got four pillar candles and three big votive jar candles. Got a lighter?”

“Yeah, here,” Mattie held out the lighter he’d brought in earlier, and she took it and he heard the flick of the flint each time she lit a candle. She spread them around the room, and turned off the flashlight. Fiánne turned hers off, too.

“So, if you want to build a fire, Am, I brought wood up for the stove. I’ve just been keeping it small, because of the draught, but it’s so damp, and the flue’s clean, so there’s really not much risk. Just turn the damper down. You want me to bring in the wood? Here, I’ll bring you some and a bit of kindling. Is there any paper? I’ll see if I can find a chunk of peeled birch.”

Amber looked over at Fiánne in the gentle, flickering light of the candles. With the fireplace, the room would be pleasantly lit and cosy.

“I’ll find some paper. It’ll be a lovely little fire,” Amber said, and they both set to work on building the lovely little fire.

When they were done, they washed their hands and returned to the living room. The girls took the chesterfield and Mattie sat in the stuffed armchair closest to Amber, listening to them get themselves under blankets and comfortable. Fiánne remembered the gummi bears and passed the packet to Amber.

Amber leaned forward to the coffee table and poured the wine. She slid Fiánne’s glass over to her, and directed Mattie to his on the end of the coffee table. She leaned back, sipping from her own, watching the flames snapping over the wood in the fireplace.

“This is almost perfect,” she said. “Well, except Riley should be here. But we have food and wine and heat, and even light. Too bad we don’t have any music.” She looked around, and turned around to see the piano. “Oh, Xa-av!” she sang. “Xaa-av!”

“No, Amber.” He knew exactly what she was aiming at.

“We could have music,” she said sweetly.

“Nope.”

Fiánne turned around to see what had given Amber fuel to tease her brother and spotted the upright piano.

“You play the piano?” she asked, looking back at Mattie.

“He’s in a band,” Amber boasted, a smile on her lips.

“You’re in a band? That’s so fantastic!” said Fiánne, obviously impressed. “What kind of music do you usually perform?”

“Well, I used to only play classical, but lately, it’s a lot of alternative rock,” Mattie said. “With undertones of jazz, blues, folk, and stomping feet.”

“They’re really awesome,” Amber said. “They do charity concerts for the university and local organisations.”

Fiánne looked at Mattie with interest. “And you’re their piano man?”

“I am their piano man,” he concurred, smiling shyly, leaning forward to find his wine glass.

“I love music,” Fiánne told them. “I like classical, too. I wanted to be a dancer. When I was little, I mean.”

“A dancer?” Amber asked. “Like, Fly Girl? Or ballerina?”

Fiánne laughed. “Well, I like to dance to any style, but I wanted to be a ballerina. I wanted to be like the famous Russian ballerinas in my dreams.”

“Did you ever take lessons?” Amber asked.

“I watched ballets on Sunday afternoon television. Those arts programmes. I tried to learn some steps and I had a really good book with pictures of classic poses. When I was at my foster home, they got me into a local studio that didn’t cost too much. It wasn’t really prestigious, for sure, but it was once a week and it at least gave me the routines and stuff. Plus, I got to have ballet shoes. Not toe-shoes, but still... they looked pretty.”

Amber smiled at her. “That’s so nice that they were able to let you take some classes,” she said. She turned to her brother. “She looks like a ballerina, Xav, long and lean. Definitely can picture her as a dancer.”

“They were good people. All of them.” Fiánne said, knowing that Amber’s description wasn’t meant to be anything but a visual for Mattie.

“That’s wonderful. I’m glad you had them.”

“Yeah,” Fiánne said. “One of the other foster kids, she was there for longer than me, she is really like my sister. She was a year older than me, and she’s really strong and bold, so she stuck up for me, looked out for me. We’re still close, though she lives in Moncton now.”

“What’s her name?” Amber asked.

“Krista.”

“Do you have any blood siblings?” Amber didn’t want to make Fiánne uncomfortable, but the other woman didn’t give off the feeling she wanted to hide right now.

She shook her head. “No, I’m an only child. Thank goodness.”

“Thank goodness? Why? You wouldn’t want a brother or sister?”

“Oh, yeah, I would. But they wouldn’t have had a good time of it, either. This spared them from it.”

“It was bad, huh?” Amber said.

“Yeah,” said Fiánne. “Not a time I’d recommend for anyone.”

“Did you have both parents at home?” Amber asked.

“No. I had my mother. For a while I had my grandmother. She was a good person. She tried to help me out but then she got sick and died and so I was stuck with just my mother. She drank a lot. She was, is, an angry woman. She was angry at my father, who dumped her when she got pregnant, she was jealous of her friends who went on to university, and she was angry and jealous and resentful of me. She wanted me to be ugly, she wanted me to be stupid, she didn’t want me to do better than she ever could. And all she did was drink and insult me.”

“Oh, Fee,” said Amber, leaning forward to put her hand on Fiánne’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Fiánne said, shrugging, giving Amber a weak smile. “I try to keep myself separate from her now. Nothing I could ever do would be right. She was too happy to have me looked after by my ex, kept in check by him. She wanted nothing more to do with looking out for me, so she thought he was doing her a favour. She pretty much called me a write-off when she found out I’d left him. She’d rather he abused me then to have me back around. She said he made good money and that if I wasn’t so contrary, I’d live an easy life with him.”

“And he abused you?” Amber asked.

“He just picked up where she left off, once he knew I was under his control. Which I never had intended, but he came in like such a hero, telling me wonderful things, buying me stuff, making it sound like a great escape from the witch... and it wasn’t at all. It might have even been worse, because I knew it wouldn’t have an end. So I made one.”

“When did you leave him?”

“Six months ago. I was with him for nine years. Nine years of him making me feel like I was a horrible person and then winning me back with gifts and soft words and kindness. Before the cruelty came back. I was so dumb, going back.”

“No,” Amber said. “It’s not dumb. It’s hope and it’s a gentle and forgiving soul. Lots of people fall into that place and can’t get out. And you did get out, so good for you!”

“I left a note saying I was done. That was it. I never told him where I was living. And where I’m working. And we don’t have similar friends or go to the same places, so I never ran into him. I’ve done all my correspondence by email and text. It’s at least documented this way. I don’t know what he’d do if he knew where I live. But it’s better now.”

“But you’re always looking over your shoulder,” Amber said. “That’s not a good way to be all the time, either.”

“I know,” Fiánne said. “But it’s better than it was.” She smiled a little at Amber again. “It’s okay now. I’m on my own and making my own way. And I have new friends.”

“Yes, you do,” Amber said, glancing at Mattie, who sat listening, his expression filled with compassion and concern. He smiled, hearing Amber say that. He wanted Fiánne to have support from good people, because her life until now had known so few. He had grown up with so many good people, that even in the hard times, he still had love and support around him always. He couldn’t imagine feeling as alone as Fiánne had been.

“You’re not alone now, Kiddo,” Amber said to Fiánne. “You’ve got us on your side, whenever you need us. Okay?”

Fiánne nodded. “You guys are awesome,” she said. “And I’m sorry for going on and on about unhappy things. We don’t have to talk about me.”

“I asked,” Amber reminded her. “I want to know you, and I’m glad when you tell me about yourself, even if it’s hard stuff.”

“Thanks,” Fiánne said, picking up the packet of gummi bears.

“More wine?” Amber asked her. “Xav?”

“I’m okay for now,” Fiánne said.

“Me, too,” Mattie said. “You go ahead, A.”

“Hmm,” Amber said, looking at the contents of the bottle. “Maybe you can roll us a puff, Xav,” she said, looking at Fiánne. “That would be nice right now.”

“How do you know I have any?” Mattie said.

“I’m raising my eyebrow at you with a disbelieving expression,” Amber said, and Fiánne laughed.

Mattie turned to Fiánne at the far end of the chesterfield. “Is she?” he asked with a slight grin.

Fiánne leaned out and Amber turned, keeping the expression on her face so Fiánne could see her.

“Yes, she is,” she told Mattie.

“All right, you got me.” He pulled himself upright in the chair, having been slumped down in it comfortably, slightly sideways, with his legs stretched out and crossed in front of him. He took a breath and cleared his throat and stood. “Do you even know if your new friend smokes the stuff?”

“I have,” said Fiánne. “I used to with Krista. But if my ex knew, he’d have had something to say about it. He thought it was for lowlifes and stupid people. He said no-one with a future would smoke it.”

“Did he hear about Paul McCartney or Bob Dylan? Or Bill Clinton or Seth Rogan?” Mattie shook his head. “It’s nothing more than a glass of wine, and probably much less. Not that I’m pressuring anyone, Fiánne. If you don’t, that’s fine, too.”

“I’d like to smoke one for my ex,” Fiánne said, with a wicked smile on her lips.

“Done,” said Mattie, turning and walking behind the chesterfield, following the back with his fingertips. He went out the doorway to the living room and took a right in the hall towards his office. Reaching his desk, he pulled the second drawer and took out a carved wooden box, carrying it back to the living room.

Fiánne watched him come back in, his line straight along the open floor. He slowed near the coffee table and reached down until his fingers graced the edge of it, and then he continued on to his chair. He normally didn’t need to check the table, but the wine had given his bearings a little bit of blur.

He set the box on the coffee table in front of him, and opened it, taking out the contents.

“He’s so organised,” Amber said. “You wanna see a blind guy roll a joint so perfect it could be a manufactured cigarette?”

Fiánne glanced at Mattie, and then looked at Amber, a smile creeping to her lips. “I do,” she said.

“I am pretty gifted at it, if I say so myself,” Mattie joked.

“I definitely need to watch this,” Fiánne said, leaning forward, her comfort level increasing.

Mattie took out the roller and the grinder and all the little bits he needed to roll the perfect joint. Amber and Fiánne watched him as he worked, all his seeing done through his hands. It didn’t take him long, but by the time he was done, he was bent over it as if all his focus was from his eyes, as if he’d forgotten that he wasn’t actually using them.

The girls laughed as he held up the finished joint.

“Even with a filter,” Amber said. “Look at that. I feel weirdly proud of this skill, Bro, but it isn’t really something I can boast about for you.”

Mattie gave a half-shrug, as if he was resigned to his talents going unsung, and then he laughed. “You don’t need to boast,” he told her. “You just need to smoke. Got the lighter?”

Amber reached down, picking the lighter off the table and putting it into his outstretched hand. He effortlessly lit the joint and blew out the flame in one go, taking a drag, and then leaned forward to Amber.

“You haven’t smoked any for a while,” Mattie said to her as she took it from him.

“I know,” Amber said. “I’m not bad like you are.”

“I’m not bad,” Mattie said. “It’s medicinal.”

“Yeah, it’s medicinal all right,” she returned, taking a puff. “He’s lying,” she told Fiánne. “Although at one time, we could have said that, Xav.”

“Yeah.” He laughed when Amber coughed on the smoke. “Can’t handle it?”

“I can handle it,” she said, defensively. “I’m not some rookie.” She coughed again, trying to hold it in, and passed the joint to Fiánne.

Fiánne took a series of small puffs and didn’t choke. A tiny grin appeared on Mattie’s face, but he said nothing.

“Um,” said Fiánne. “Do you...?” She looked at Amber. “You want to...?”

“Xav?” Amber said. “Joint coming.” She took the spliff from Fiánne and turned to Mattie as he leaned forward and held up his hand.

Fiánne watched as Mattie easily reached up, finding Amber’s wrist, following it up to her thumb and fingers. She held the joint upright, lighted end up, and he took it from her fingers in a quick move that Fiánne almost couldn’t see.

“Not as hard as you’d expect,” Amber said, winking at Fiánne.

After the third pass to Fiánne, Amber jumped up. “I’m just gonna go put the kettle on the stove, Xav. I’ll chuck some wood in it while I’m there, okay?”

Mattie nodded. “Yeah. Oh, there’s hot chocolate in the cupboard, too, if you guys want some.”

Fiánne inhaled the smoke and nodded when Amber looked at her questionably.

There was still a good amount of the joint left, and Fiánne looked over at Mattie. She stood up, moving around the table to him.

“You want some more of this joint?” she asked him.

He sat up. “Oh! Yeah, sure.” He held out his fingers. “Just hold it with the cherry up, and bump my hand so I can find it.”

Fiánne didn’t want to burn him, but Amber had made it look simple, so she did as he told her and in three seconds, the joint was back in his hand. She moved back to Amber’s spot, closer to him and the joint, feeling a small tingle on the back of her hand where his fingers had glided over her skin.

“You like this stuff?” he asked. “It’s local. And by local I do not mean I grew it. But it was grown around here.”

“Really? It’s really good.” She eyed him. “Did you really have it medicinally? That’s a score, I’ve heard, not easy to get.”

“I didn’t have it medicinally,” Mattie admitted. “Not legally, anyway. But I had it for medicinal purposes at one time.”

“Were you sick?”

“No, I was in an accident.”

“Oh.”

“A car accident,” Mattie elaborated, not knowing why he’d even brought it up.

“Oh, no. Really?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No. I mean, Amber never said.”

“Oh.” He wondered how Amber had explained his blindness to Fiánne, but then remembered she hadn’t. “Well, I was. I was hurt pretty badly. Peter and Amber got me some weed when I was recovering, to get over the pain without so many meds.”

“That’s... I’m glad they could do that for you. Who was driving?” she asked.

“Who was driving? The other car?”

“No, the car you were in.”

Shit. Amber hadn’t even told her this, either. “The other car was driven by an intoxicated young man. A very intoxicated driver. The car I was in was driven by me.”

“You...? You... drove a car?”

She didn’t sound sorry or uncomfortable, just confused.

So Mattie smiled. “I drove a car. I drove for a long time.”

“So you weren’t always blind, then,” Fiánne said. “I didn’t know that.”

He held the joint back out to her and she leaned forward, taking it from his fingers.

“I wasn’t, no.”

“It must have been a pretty bad accident,” Fiánne said softly.

He nodded. “So I’ve heard,” he said.

“So I’m presuming that the accident is why you... can’t drive anymore.”

“Yeah. That kind of finished my driving career. When I woke up from a coma, I couldn’t see anymore. Everything else healed.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” Fiánne said. “I’m glad you’re okay now, though.”

Sorry that happened. Okay now. It was a horrible thing at the time. But he was okay now. And she saw that. No-one ever saw that at first, it took them a while after getting to know it that it was okay. She saw he was okay, and went backwards to meet the time that he wasn’t.

It also showed him that Fiánne had not gone home with Amber last time and asked her all sorts of pitying questions. She’d just accepted what was, and let it be. Or maybe she didn’t want to pry. Or maybe she didn’t think about him at all after they had left his house.

“Do you want any more of this?” she asked. “It’s not very big.”

Mattie, who was considering her assessment of him, re-centred his attention on her. “No, you finish it. I can roll another one after. Don’t want to burn my fingers.”

Amber returned then, as Fiánne was putting out the roach in the ash tray Mattie had put out on the table.

“Water’s on, mugs are ready. Xav, you want hot chocolate or tea?”

“No, I’m having hot chocolate with you guys,” Mattie said. “I’m fun.”

“You roll damn good joints,” Amber assured him. “I think I’m baked. You guys must be baked. Are there any gummi bears left?” She searched the package.

“How’s the fire?” Mattie asked her, distracting her from the bag.

“I’ll poke it,” Amber said. “There’s another log there, I’ll throw on. Fiánne? Want anything?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine,” the other woman replied. “This is just... really, really enjoyable.”

“It is fun,” Amber said. “At first I was bummed out that our night was ruined but I’m having fun. It’s cosy fun.”

Mattie felt the weight of a cat on his lap, suddenly, and he smiled, petting its soft fur. He knew instantly it was Seuss, both by touch and by personality.

“Do you like cats, Fiánne?” he asked her. “Oh, wait, yes, Amber has a cat you’re fond of, too. I remember now. This is Seuss.” He petted her, sounding like a proud father. “She’s as different from her sister in personality as she is in looks. Dickens pretends she’s aloof, but she’s the first one on the bed with me.”

“She’s so sweet,” Fiánne said.

“She’s a little needy,” Mattie whispered. “But we love her anyway,” he said in a goofy, higher-pitched voice, kissing the cat’s forehead as punctuation.

Fiánne laughed. “I love their names,” she said. “I love both those authors.”

“Yeah? I couldn’t think of anything else. I thought of them like bookends.”

“Water’s boiling,” Amber said, jumping up. “You have marshmallows, Xav?”

“I have no idea,” Mattie said. “I don’t think so, but you can look.”

Amber returned, having found no marshmallows, she brought potato chips that were supposed to be for Hallowe’en trick or treaters.

“I’ll buy you another box, Xav, but I was going to make popcorn on that stove and I just don’t want to do that much work.”

Mattie could hear the chips being opened, and in a moment, he felt a miniature bag hit him in the chest, and the cat jumped off his leg. He picked it up and opened it, feeling hungrier than he had been all night.

“So much work,” Mattie said sarcastically, but gladly ate the chips. “So, what are you guys doing for the weekend? Are you staying through?”

“Yeah, I’ll take her back in Sunday night. We’re just hanging out. What are your plans?”

“Well, I guess it depends on if they get the power back on or not,” he said. “If it isn’t on, I can’t do much, I guess, that I want to do.” He waited, but the response he expected never came. Fiánne never said what does it matter if the power’s off, you don’t need the lights. He’d heard that comment a lot. Someone once said his power bill must be nothing because he didn’t need lights.

“What’s that face for?” Amber asked. “Xav?”

“I thought you guys might say it didn’t matter if I had power. People say that.”

Fiánne looked perplexed. “But you need power as much as the rest of us,” she said. “You use computers and stereos, and the stove and... your ’fridge. You probably like your food to stay frozen in the freezer just as much as anyone, right? I mean, I know in the country, too, you have water pumps and hot water heaters, so you’re just as screwed as anyone.”

Mattie grinned. She was definitely not in the league of the general public.

“That’s just dumb,” Fiánne said. “I definitely did not think that.”

“This time I am the presumptuous one,” Mattie said, still grinning. “Sorry.”

“I also won’t assume you won’t know the power is back on because you don’t see the lights.”

Amber laughed. “None of us will see any lights if the power comes back on. Xav never has them on in the first place.”

“But we’ll all still know,” Mattie said. “Because we aren’t oblivious and dumb.”

“I don’t think the power will be off that long,” Amber said. “It’s not like it’s freezing rain or anything. I wonder where it blew? I wonder if the store is out.”

Mattie got up this time, heading to the front door. He opened it and stepped out, listening, feeling. The wind still gusted, but the rain seemed less heavy, the raindrops smaller.

“It’s lessening,” he said, coming back in and closing the door against the weather. As he did, they all heard the sound of a diesel truck down on the road, passing slowly.

“Lights flashing,” Amber said, standing to see out the window. “I think that’s the hydro truck, Xav. Must be checking all the lines.”

“Well, we know they’re out there, anyway,” he said. “Won’t be long, I’m sure.” He returned to his hot chocolate, which had cooled enough to drink.

“Wanna play a game?” Amber asked them both. “Xav has Monopoly and Scrabble and cards and... Clue?”

“I don’t have Clue,” Mattie said. “But the others, yes.”

They agreed on Scrabble, and Mattie got the game from the office. Amber set it up and passed out the letters. Mattie rolled another couple of joints for the game, and Fiánne quietly watched him, her dark eyes following his fingers, then raising up to look at the gentle, far-away expression on Mattie’s face. She knew he wasn’t off daydreaming, he was concentrating on his hands, and their conversation, but he looked deep in thought, the light from the fire flickering across his face and eyes.

They’d smoked two more joints and had played three games when the sound of the fridge, the water pump, and several electronic beeps all were heard at once.

“There it is,” Mattie said. “We survived the terrible black-out.”

“Aww,” said Amber. “It was fun.”

“It was fun,” Mattie said, and Fiánne agreed wholeheartedly.

They stayed for one more game, and then Amber and Fiánne helped tidy up, and they gathered their things and thanked Mattie for his hospitality.

When Mattie closed the door behind them, the house was no longer silent, but it seemed quieter than it had before they had come. Mattie went to bed hoping that maybe tomorrow, Amber would want to invite him to hang out with them again. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop wondering about Fiánne all weekend, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that at all.