The Endless Knot

“She said she needed to make a quick trip to Regina. She took off about five o’clock this afternoon.”

“Are you sure she was coming to my house?”

Greg sounded distracted, as if he was reconstructing the scene. “I guess I just assumed that’s where she was going. After we heard the bulletin on the radio about Parker’s death, Mieka got a phone call. She said something like, ‘Don’t do anything, I’ll be right there.’ Then she told me the girls’ Halloween costumes were laid out on their beds and asked if I’d mind taking them around. I filled in the blanks and assumed you were the person on the other end of the line.”

“And you didn’t ask Mieka why she was coming to Regina?”

“No, she said she’d be back tomorrow morning.” He paused. “Jo, the truth is, Mieka and I are walking on eggshells these days. I didn’t want to start anything.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Why? You weren’t the one who called. My guess is it was Charlie, the bottomless pit of unmet needs. Do you happen to have his number?”

I gave my son-in-law the number, hung up, and began to fret. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I was surprised when I heard Taylor come in. I looked at my watch. By my reckoning, she still had half an hour to howl. I called out hello and waited for her to do what she did every Halloween: dump her candy on the kitchen table and give me a blow-by-blow of the evening’s events while she sorted her treats into piles on the basis of their desirability. But tonight, my younger daughter just said hi and headed for her room.

“Hey wait,” I said. I followed her upstairs to the landing. “How was your evening?”

She sat on the top step and flopped her pompoms listlessly back and forth. “It was good until Ethan caught up with us.”

“What happened?”

She sighed. “Nothing happened, Ethan was just way too intense. He made everybody so uncomfortable they just went home.”

“Leaving you alone with Ethan.”

Taylor nodded numbly. “And then things got really weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Ethan was just different than he usually is. For one thing, he’s stopped wearing his pentangle, and that was, like, the most important thing in his life.”

“Did he say why he’d stopped wearing it?”

“Just that he didn’t believe in it any more. He said the pentangle was just a piece of junk.”

“Something must have happened,” I said.

“Ethan wants to run away, and he wants me to go with him.” Taylor’s voice broke. “All I ever wanted to do was be his friend.”

“I know.” I put my arm around her and was struck again at the delicacy of her bones. She was still a little girl. “Why don’t you give me those pompoms and go up and have a shower. I’ll make us some tea.”

Beneath their turquoise eyeshadow, my daughter’s eyes were troubled. “Maybe you should talk to Ethan’s mum.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow,” I said. “Now, jump in the shower. When you get out, I’ll have your bed turned down, and the tea will be ready.”

I’d just finished warming the pot when Mieka phoned. “Mum, I just got off the phone with Greg. I know I should have called before, but to be honest I was hoping I could get in and out of town without bothering you. I figured you had enough on your plate.”

“Thanks for the consideration,” I said. “But since I know you’re here, you might as well fill me in.”

“Charlie had a crisis,” Mieka said. “Peter called me this afternoon. Apparently, when he heard that Sam Parker died, Charlie went a little nuts.”

“As Zack says, the hits just keep on coming. So what happened with Charlie?”

“He thought Kathryn Morrissey was responsible for Sam’s death, and he wanted to punish her.”

“You mean physically?”

Mieka’s voice was tight. “We’re handling it, Mum. Pete and I’ve always been able to bring Charlie down. It’s going to be fine. Anyway, I love you. And for once in your life, don’t worry.”

“Easier said than done,” I said. “But I’m glad you and Pete are there, Mieka. Charlie’s always better when you’re around.”

Mieka laughed softly. “Believe it or not, it goes both ways. I’ll call you when I get home.”

The morning of All Saints’ Day was grey and misty. Taylor came down to breakfast wearing her favourite outfit: a pink shirt, jeans with pink appliqued hearts on the pockets, and a matching jeans jacket.

“Looking swish,” I said.

She poured herself a glass of juice. “I don’t feel swish, but I thought I could at least look good.”

I smiled at her. “One of the great lessons of life: fake it until you make it.”

“I have an early rehearsal for our Remembrance Day program,” she said. “Any chance I could get a ride to school?”

“Sure, what time do you have to be there?”