Granite Giant - Cover

Granite Giant

Copyright© 2014 by Coaster2

Chapter 2: Expect the Unexpected

Business progressed as usual for the next three months. I stayed in touch with Al Goshulak, interested in how well he was able to get his new business established. When I saw the samples and he gave me a rundown on the quality of the granite and the work, I gained some confidence that he had a good product. I'd learned early on that there was granite, and there was granite. Not all the quality was equal.

I passed a couple of inquiries along to him to see what would happen. He was quick to get someone out to measure and estimate what the customer wanted. He was also quick to prepare a comprehensive quote that included removal of the old counters (if it was a renovation job) and the prep work to complete the installation of the counters and backsplash. He also gave the customers a range of sinks to select if they didn't have something specific in mind. In short, he was prepared to do the job from start to finish.

Both the quotes were accepted by the customer, and no wonder. His competition left it up to the builder or homeowner to do the removal and any hardware installations. For all those extras, Granite Giant was still lower than other quotes from a local kitchen outfit and another granite supplier. It looked to me that if Al could make a good profit on his work, he was going to be as successful as he anticipated.

Thomas raised a fuss about my getting a quote from a new supplier without his permission. Since we were only going to collect the finder's fee, I suggested he let us give this a trial, since it might mean more significant business in the future. He reluctantly agreed. When I showed him the finished installations and the customer feedback, I heard no more about it. I was impressed with the work, as were the customers. We had a new opportunity.

Dionne graduated from high school and that was a big event for us. She had decided to attend North Island College, since it was within walking distance of our home and, of course, not that far from Rick Goshulak. The young man had found a small apartment for himself in Comox and I knew our daughter was a constant visitor. I really didn't want to know what they got up to, but I was a realist. She was almost nineteen, legal drinking age, and I imagined that she and Rick were probably having sex. I thought back to those days when I was single and living on my own. I sure as hell wouldn't have passed up an opportunity with a hot looking babe like my daughter.


It was the middle of June that my world was turned upside down. I had been on a construction jobsite in Campbell River when my cell phone buzzed. I picked it out of my shirt pocket and looked at the screen. It was my daughter calling.

"Hi Sweetheart, what's up?"

"Daddy ... oh ... Daddy ... please come home. It's Mom. She's in the hospital. She had a car accident. Please come quick," she pleaded. I could hear the fear and the sobs to back up her fear.

"I'm on my way," I assured her. "I'm in Campbell River, so I'll be about a half hour or so. You calm down. Where's your brother?"

"I don't know. He's out somewhere," she said, still crying.

"Okay, leave a note for him and let him know where we're going. If he gets home before I do, make sure he stays. We'll all go to the hospital together."

"Okay, Daddy. Please hurry."

I signed off, already heading for my car. Luckily, I was on the south end of town and able to get to the highway in a couple of minutes. I broke most of the speed laws as I headed as fast as I dared back to Courtenay. Even so, it was almost forty minutes before I reached our home. Both Dionne and Mike were waiting for me on the front porch.

We didn't stop to discuss anything. They just piled in and I turned the car around and headed for St. Joseph's Hospital. Another ten minutes and I was parked near the Emergency Room entrance. The three of us rushed into the reception area. Luckily no one was ahead of us.

"I understand my wife was injured in a car accident," I said hurriedly. Can you tell me how she is?"

"What is your name, Sir," she asked calmly.

Gerard Saunders. "These are our children," I said, turning to Dionne and Mike.

"Just a moment, Sir," she said, looking at a flat screen monitor.

"Your wife is Helen Saunders?" she asked, looking up at me.

"Yes, that's right. How is she?"

"She's currently in surgery and there's no report on her condition beyond serious. There's also a police officer here you can talk to. He was at the scene of the accident."

"Thank you," I said, looking around for any sign of a RCMP constable.

"I'll tell him you're here," the helpful receptionist said. She left her desk and disappeared briefly into the back before returning to her desk. "He'll be right along," she assured me.

A moment later, a uniformed RCMP constable walked to the front of the reception area.

"Are you Mr. Saunders, husband of Helen Saunders?" he asked.

"Yes, I am. What happened, officer?"

"Come with me, please," he said, indicating a room off to one side. "Are these your children?"

"Yes," I confirmed. They followed me into the small room.

"Mr. Saunders, your wife was involved in a serious motor vehicle accident. She was driving north on Highway 19A at Royston at approximately one pm this afternoon. A fully loaded logging truck was turning south onto the highway off the Comox Logging Road. It's difficult to tell what exactly happened, but he began to lose his load just before your wife's car passed the intersection. Several logs fell onto her car, causing major damage.

Witnesses estimate she was going well within the speed limit, but at seventy or eighty klicks, the impact would be enormous. The car was destroyed and it took rescue crews several minutes to extract her from the car. I won't attempt to detail her injuries. The doctors will do that. I can tell you, it was serious. I'm sorry, Sir. She was an innocent victim of a terrible accident. We can only hope she pulls through.

I nodded, dumbstruck. Dionne was now crying openly and Mike had rivers of tears running down his cheeks. I was no different. I couldn't come to terms with just what had happened. I huddled with the children and led them to some chairs along the wall. We would wait here, holding hands, until the doctor came to see us. I thanked the officer for his information and sat numbly, waiting to hear the fate of my wife of twenty years. Would she live? If so, what after effects would there be? I tried to imagine the various scenarios that would face our family, but I couldn't concentrate on anything at that moment.

I realized I had to make some phone calls. Her parents lived in Burnaby on the mainland and I needed to call them. Undoubtedly they would want to know more than I was able to tell them. But they did need to know right away. My parents, of course, living in Delta, would also want to know. And the office. They would wonder what happened to me soon enough.

I made the phone calls from the empty reception area, hoping no one would be able to hear my conversations. I called Brenda Naismith and had a halting, tearful talk with her, telling her of the accident, but unable to tell her the condition of her daughter. Victor, her father, was still at work and Brenda would inform him. I promised I would call them back the minute we had more information on her condition.

I phoned my parents. It wasn't any easier telling them than it was with Helen's mother. They were deeply shocked and distressed at the accident and again I promised to call them as soon as we knew more about her condition. Finally, I called the office and told them as well. I had no intention of talking to Thomas. I let Liz on the sales counter know what had happened and that I'd be off until I knew what Helen's situation was. She would take care of letting the other staff know.

Now, all we could do was wait. I glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing four o'clock. I wondered how long it would be before we saw a doctor and learned what Helen's condition was. I returned to the little room and sat once again with Dionne and Mike. I was numbed. Never in my wildest imagination had I thought something like this could happen to us. What cruel twist of fate put her car in the path of that logging truck? And what caused it to lose its load? I couldn't get my head around what had happened.

It was nearing five o'clock when the door to the interview room opened and a weary-looking doctor wearing green scrubs entered.

"Mr. Saunders?"

I nodded, still numb.

"And these are your son and daughter?"

"Yes," I managed to croak.

"We did everything we could, Mr. Saunders, but ... the damage to your wife was too great. I'm sorry, Sir, but she didn't make it."

"OH NO!" Dionne wailed immediately, standing and clutching at me. "NO! NO! She can't be dead. She's our Mom. She can't be dead!"

I wrapped my arm around her and looked over at Mike. He was sobbing uncontrollably, sitting in the chair, his head bowed to his lap, as the doctor delivered the news. I was lost. I had no idea what to do or say. Helen Maria Naismith Saunders was dead. She had left us ... all of us. I just stood looking at the forlorn doctor as he turned to leave us, still holding Dionne tightly to me. What now? What do I do next?

Somehow, the three of us made it back to the car and I drove home in utter silence. I turned the radio off. I didn't want to hear the latest pop hit, or the news, or ... anything. I had a very unhappy duty to perform. I didn't know quite how I was going to do it, but I knew that it had to be done.

It took me half an hour to collect myself after we got home. Dionne went directly to her room and closed the door. Mike sat in the living room, staring at the television. It wasn't turned on. Finally, I gathered myself and made the call to the Naismiths.

I lasted about five seconds after Vic answered the phone.

"I'm sorry, Vic. I'm so sorry. She's gone," I managed before I broke down and cried like a little boy. I didn't really hear what Victor said after that. I was a mess, incoherent I'm sure. Thank God Brenda didn't come on the phone, but I knew from the wail I heard in the background that she knew. I gave Victor the sketchy details the Mountie had passed along, but didn't dwell on the accident. I begged off, telling her father that I had to look after Dionne and Mike. I would talk to them later when I felt I was in better control of my emotions. Vic said he understood and we ended the call.

My call to my parents wasn't quite as traumatic, but no easier for me. They loved Helen, accepting her as a daughter. They were deeply affected by the news and again, I told them we would talk later when I had been able to collect my thoughts. My last call was to Thomas Thompson's home to inform him that my wife had passed away as a result of an accident and I wouldn't be at work for the foreseeable future. Fortunately, I got no argument from him. I wouldn't want to think about what I might have said to him if he had protested my absence.

Somehow, we got through that first night. I made some soup and a sandwich for each of us. None of us had much of an appetite, but we did need to eat. I had a couple of beers after dinner, but no more. I went to bed just before nine-thirty. Mike and Dionne had already shut down for the night. Now I prayed that I would sleep. My mind was a jumble of grief and thoughts and worries and confusion, all mixed in an incomprehensible stew.

It took a while, but I did sleep. Perhaps it was the mental exhaustion and the release of tension after the chaos of the afternoon. I really didn't care. I just knew I wanted sleep to take me away from the pain and sorrow. I had lost the only woman I had ever loved. I couldn't imagine my life without Helen. It was an empty void. Nothing there to look forward to. Only my children as an anchor.


"What happens now?" Dionne asked as I hung up the phone.

"That was the hospital. They want to know what to do with your mother. We never talked about this, so now's the time," I said, resigned to another unpleasant task.

"I think we should have her buried in the cemetery," Mike said.

Dionne was nodding. "Yes. I don't want her cremated. That sounds horrible," she said with some passion.

"Okay then, we all agree," I said with relief. "I'm sure her mother and father won't object. I'll find a funeral home and we'll make the arrangements."

I got a solemn nod from both as we sat around the breakfast table the next morning. I planned to go to the bank and go through our papers that we kept in the safe deposit box. I would have to cancel her credit cards and post a notice in the paper as well. I'm sure there were a handful of other things that needed to be done, but I wasn't thinking clearly yet and I would have to do what was necessary as soon as I was aware of it.

Then there were the personal things. Her clothes and jewelry. I didn't think Dionne was ready to deal with that, but I wanted her to have the jewelry at least. Helen had a will, I remembered, so it should be in the safe deposit box. And now, I would have to remember to change my beneficiaries on my will and insurance policies. I had a lot to do already. I began to make some notes so that I wouldn't forget anything.

"Do we need to do any grocery shopping?" I asked.

"Probably," Dionne answered. "Mom usually went shopping on Thursdays. Do you want me to see what we need? I usually know what she buys."

"Yes, please and thank you. I'm clueless, as your mother would have been the first to tell you."

"The story about the accident was on TV this morning," Mike said quietly. "I saw the car ... or what was left of it. I had to turn it off. I couldn't look at it."

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