Chapter 9: What next?

The shock was enormous. I was speechless and stood there, bewildered by what she had said. My mother? Was that even possible?

I was frozen in place for the moment and it wasn't until I felt Ardele come up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders that I regained some kind of balance.

"Please come in," Ardele said softly to the woman.

I managed to step aside and make room for her to pass by me. Ardele led her to the sofa and indicated for her to sit. I turned to look at her, trying mightily to dredge some memory of my mother from the past. I couldn't find anything at that moment. My mind was in turmoil and I was still speechless.

I walked robotically to my easy chair and sat, gaping at the woman, trying desperately to think of something to say. The only thing I could determine was that she was very nervous and unsure of herself. I wasn't any better off.

"It's been a long time," I finally mumbled.

"Almost eighteen years," she said, finding it difficult to look me in the eye.

"Why?" It was the only question that seemed to matter to me.

"I'm ashamed to tell you, Patrick. I'm ashamed of myself and what I did to you and your father. I did a horrible thing and then I ran away. It was the only thing I could think of to do."

"Dad told me you had an affair." I was beginning to gather my wits about me.

She was shaking her head. "No, not an affair. Something worse. A tawdry, sleazy one-night-stand with a stranger. I still get sick to my stomach when I think about it."

"How?"

She sighed deeply. "I don't have an excuse, Patrick. I can tell you what I did, but it isn't an excuse."

"Go ahead."

"Your father had been working hard to get the business up and running. He was working long hours and not at home very much. I was getting frustrated with it and with him. I knew it was important, but I was selfish and wanted him to spend more time with me ... and you."

"I remember that much," I said. "You were arguing about it quite a lot."

She nodded. "One night, I got a babysitter for you and went out just to have a break. I thought I was entitled to it. I went to a bar and had a few drinks. More than I should have. I let myself get picked up by a man I had only met a few minutes earlier. I went to his motel with him and ... I had sex with him.

"I knew it was wrong and the next morning I felt horrible. I had cheated on your father and he didn't deserve that. I could barely stand to look at myself in the mirror. I felt that way for days before it began to wear off and I put the incident in the past as a bad memory. Something I would never do again.

"Six weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant. I knew it was that man's and not your father's baby. I knew I couldn't deceive your father and have him raise another man's child. I did the only thing I could think of. I ran. I left a note telling your father that I had cheated on him with another man and I couldn't live with myself any longer and took off."

"So ... I have a half-brother or sister somewhere?" I asked.

Again, she was shaking her head slowly. "I lost the child in the second trimester. A miscarriage. I was almost grateful it happened except that it had ended a new life. I was staying with an old school friend in Calgary who had taken me in. She was a life-saver. I was borderline suicidal for a while. Eventually, I got a job at a women's clothing store in a mall and that led to getting an apartment for myself."

"I threw myself into the job and that helped fill the days. After a while, I was promoted to assistant manager, then I was made manager at a new store in a new mall. Eventually, I was noticed and offered a position at head office in Toronto. That's where I've been for the last ten years."

"Have you remarried?" I wondered. I didn't see any rings on her fingers.

"No. I haven't even had a date since I left your father."

"Who do you work for?" I asked.

"Estelle Cartier. It's an upscale women's wear chain with stores across the country in the best malls."

"What do you do there? In Toronto, I mean."

"I became the head buyer after serving with the previous buyer for four years. But I'm retired now?"

"Retired? But you're only ... fifty, aren't you?"

"Fifty-two last month. Our company was bought by an American firm a few months ago. They decided that their buyers in New York were capable of looking after the Canadian stores and I was given a golden handshake. I had stock options and I hadn't spent very much money at all over the years. I'm very secure, financially."

"I should introduce myself," Ardele finally spoke.

"I'm sorry, Del, I wasn't thinking. I apologize. Mother, this is Ardele Quinton, my fiancée. Ardele, my mother, Sarah ... uhhm."

"Sarah Seaton, Ardele. Seaton is my maiden name. And I'm delighted to meet you. Patrick has chosen very well. You are a very beautiful woman."

"Thank you," Ardele answered shyly.

"And what do you do for a living, Patrick?" Mother asked.

"I ... we ... have a charter boat business. We take people on cruises and fishing trips and nature explorations, mostly during the summer months."

"How in the world did you get into that?" she asked, clearly surprised.

"Do you remember Father's boat?"

"Of course. We spent many a happy day on that boat before ... before I left."

"Did you know Father had died?" I asked, unsure just what she did know.

"Yes, I was at his funeral."

My head snapped up. "You were? Why didn't you see me? Why didn't you talk to me?" I was beginning to get angry now.

"I couldn't make things any worse, Patrick. You were grieving and my showing up would just make you more miserable. You had gotten along without me for thirteen years. I couldn't do that to you."

"How do you know that?" I spat. "How could you know how I would react? I had no father. I had no one. No mother, no father, no grandparents, no uncles or aunts. I had no one!" I almost shouted, tears now flowing freely.

"I'm sorry, my son, I'm so sorry. Everything I did was wrong, wasn't it. Right from the start, everything I did was wrong," she wailed, her face in her hands, her head bent.

Ardele put her arm around my mother and held her. I watched as she did that and I felt my anger releasing. There was no point in making her feel any worse than she already did. She wasn't putting on an act. I could see she was remorseful.

I sat in my chair as Ardele comforted my mother, a myriad of thoughts going through my mind. How did I really feel about all this? Should I let bygones be bygones? Should I ask her to leave and never return? That didn't feel right, but I couldn't tell what did. What was I to do about this unexpected surprise?

"When are you going back to Toronto?" I asked.

"I'm going to be here for a couple of weeks, looking for a place to live. I'm not staying in Toronto. I've got my condominium up for sale and I plan to return to the west coast."

"There's something you should know," I said looking at Ardele. "You're going to be a grandmother next year."

"Oh, Patrick, Ardele, that's so wonderful," she said, tears appearing once again. "I never thought I'd see the day. I'm so happy for you both."

"Thank you," Ardele said with a comforting smile.

"There's also going to be a wedding reception in January." It was hard to get out, but I asked, "Will you be able to come?"

"Of course. Thank you so much for allowing me. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"You may see one or two old acquaintances," I suggested. "Both Joel and Kerry said they would be there."

"Are you still partners with Kerry?" she asked.

"No. I made an agreement with him to buy out Dad's share. Joel is still handling my investments."

"It will be good to see them again. I hope they won't be upset with my presence."

"I can probably head that off by calling them and letting them know about your being there."

"You'd do that?" She seemed surprised.

I sighed, running my hands over my face. "I don't hate you, Mother ... not any more. Maybe when it happened and Dad and I were alone, but we made it okay. This is so sudden, so I'm not sure how to express myself. Ardele and I are going to have our own family. Our children are going to want to know why they don't have four grandparents. Ardele's father is dead as well, so there's only her mother and you. I wouldn't deny you your grandchildren."

"Do you think there's a chance we can learn to be mother and son again?"

"I don't know, I really don't know," I said. "I'll try."

That brought about another session of waterworks from her and I could see tears on Ardele's cheeks as well.

My mother got up and came to me, knelt down and put her arms around me.

"Thank you, Patrick. I know I don't deserve it ... but thank you."

It felt strange to be in her arms again. I could vaguely remember her holding me when I was young, but it was only a fleeting memory. I did feel some comfort with the gesture. I wondered if we could find our way back to being a family.

"I can't get over how this city has grown," my mother commented as we toured the west end. "Everywhere I look there's a new high-rise or office building. I'm not sure I want to live in this area. It's just like Toronto. I want some open space and maybe a view."

"Do you have a car, Mom?" I asked.

"Yes, but I seldom drive it. I'll probably sell it before I move back."

"You'll need one here. Our public transportation is primitive compared to what you're used to. You might look in North or West Vancouver. There are some nice townhouses up on the mountainside. Would you like to look there?"

"Yes ... let's do that. My realty person tells me there's a bidding war on for my apartment, so I'm going to be able to afford a nice place here."

"I'm sure you can. The market's soft right now, so it's a good time to buy."

We had been touring around, looking at possible places for my mother to live. At first I thought she wanted an apartment style condominium, but listening to her, I got the impression a townhouse might suit her better.

"Have you found a real estate agent yet?" I asked.

"No. I did talk to a couple, but they suggested I decide on a general location first, then look for an agent."

"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense."

"Where is Ardele this morning?" she asked.

"She's at the doctor's office, getting a check up."

"Smart girl."

"Yes, she is. Very smart," I smiled, more to myself.

I had traded in my somewhat battered old pickup on a new Toyota RAV4. It was much more practical for our business and I had the company name and logo on the front doors. Three interlocking Cs for Captain's Choice Charters. It was too late to change the name now.

I had now come to terms with my mother's unexpected return. Ardele had made it plain that she thought I was doing the right thing and that she was very proud of me for being so forgiving. I wasn't so sure about the forgiveness, but we had started toward reconciliation at least.

"What happened to your father's boat, Patrick?"

"It was stolen last summer. The guys who took it made a bad mistake and a propane explosion destroyed the boat, killing two of the thieves. They were two of five men who had chartered the boat two weeks earlier and to be honest, we thought they were crooks right from the beginning. After they left, I let the RCMP know about them, but the last thing I expected was for them to return and steal the boat. It's still an unsolved crime with no known motive."

"Perhaps one of them hid something on the boat," my mother said idly.

"I thought of that. That might explain why they took it, but why hide it there?"

"Someplace no one would think to look for it. Then, when they stole the boat, they could retrieve it."

"But, they could do that by just breaking into the boat at night and taking what was left behind. Why take the whole boat?"

"What if they didn't know exactly where whatever it was they were looking was hidden?"

"Maybe," I pondered. "So if two of the crooks knew something was hidden and wanted it for themselves but didn't know where to look for it, they steal the boat to give themselves the time to find whatever it is. That would account for why only two of them were on board. The other three guys weren't involved."