Enter, Night

reeling from the shock of meeting the ghost of her eldest son. The girl’s skin was lighter than Jack’s but more like Adeline’s own, which she knew would please her when she recovered.

“It’s nice to meet you, too… Grandmother.”

For Morgan, there was an edge of a question in the way she said it, as though she were uncertain-not about who Adeline was, but what to call her. Certainly nothing in Adeline’s severe elegance inspired cuddly appellatives like “granny” or “grandma,” nor had stories about Adeline been any significant part of Morgan’s childhood mythology, apart from the odd cryptic reference by one of her parents.

“Yes, you may call me Grandmother,” Adeline said, smiling graciously as though she were bestowing a great favour on Morgan. “I dislike diminutives, especially when addressing one’s elders.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, yes, Grandmother.”

Adeline smiled down at Morgan again, then looked past Christina, whom she still hadn’t greeted, to where Jeremy hung back behind them in the doorway.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Behold the prodigal son returns,” Adeline said. Her expression was neutral. “That’s Luke 15:11-32, son. I trust that, even given your lifestyle, you haven’t entirely forgotten the word of God?”

“Have you been rehearsing that for the last ten years, Mother? Or did it just spring to mind when you saw me?” Adeline’s eyes shifted quickly to Morgan, then back at her son. “I wouldn’t expect you to say something as simple as ‘welcome home,’ but still-The Bible? Luke? My ‘lifestyle’? Before I even cross the threshold?”

“Don’t be insolent, Jeremy. I won’t have it. You’re not back in Toronto.”

She spat out the word Toronto as though it were foulness-the way a religious fanatic might have said Babylon or Sodom. “You’re in my house, in the town founded by your ancestors on a site made holy with the blood of Catholic martyrs. You can behave and show me respect, otherwise you needn’t cross the threshold at all.”

“I’m not seventeen anymore, Mother,” Jeremy said. “I’m almost thirty. It’s been a while since I’ve been susceptible to that tone of voice, or those phrases.” He met his mother’s eyes evenly. “It’s been a very long drive and we’re very tired, especially Morgan. Shall I bring our bags in from the car, or should we drive down to the village and see if the Gold Nugget motel is open at this hour? I’d rather not start the talk in town about us being back by signing my name-the Parr name-in a motel register at this hour, especially not for three of us. But I will if that’s what you’d prefer we do. It’s your call, Mother.”

Thwarted fury passed across Adeline’s face like summer lightning, but too quickly for anyone but Jeremy to have seen it, and he only noticed because he’d seen it before and recognized it for what it was. Jeremy had played the one card he always had at his disposal-Adeline’s particular personal horror of scandal. The threat of exposing their clandestine return-the slut who’d gotten knocked up by Jack Parr, then married him; the faggot; the illegitimate daughter-to public discourse was a powerful one. Adeline’s face was very pale, and two spots of colour had appeared high on the ridge of her cheekbones. But the neutrality of her expression hadn’t changed.

“Quite,” Adeline said, calmly. “Welcome home. You’re most welcome, all of you.”

“Mrs. Parr-” Christina began.

“Morgan?” Adeline said, cutting Christina off in mid-sentence, turning instead to her granddaughter. “Why don’t you help your Uncle Jeremy with the suitcases? I have a nice room prepared for you upstairs. It’s very pretty. I think you’ll like it. And you must be tired. It has a canopy bed. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, Grandmother.” There was an unfamiliar impressed awe in Morgan’s voice that chilled Christina to the core. “I’ve seen pictures of one. They’re beautiful.”

Adeline laughed, a silvery hostess laugh. “Well, hurry up and get your bags out of your car and you can see your bed, darling. Uncle Jeremy can show you the way.” She turned to her son. “Morgan will be in the east wing. In the yellow room, Jeremy. You’ll have your old room, of course.

We’ll put dear Christina next to Morgan. Everything has been prepared.” When Jeremy and Morgan had gone out to the car, Christina turned to Adeline. “Mrs. Parr, thank you so much for taking us in. As you can imagine, it’s been a very difficult time for all of us, especially Morgan.”

“Christina, please listen carefully to what I am about to tell you,” Adeline said coldly. “I will only say it once, and then we will never have this conversation again. Let me be perfectly plain: taking you and Morgan into my home is an act of charity, one I’m very happy to extend. She is, after all, my granddaughter-my eldest son’s child, and very likely the end of our family line. What you and Jack did was unforgivable, and I do not-and will never-forgive either of you for it. You took my son away from me, and now he’s dead.” Adeline paused, composing herself.

“That said,” she continued implacably, “as my son is dead, I can only do one thing- the right thing. And that is to take you into my home and extend to you all the privileges of a daughter-in-law, if only for Morgan’s sake. You will live here at Parr House as long as you need to. Morgan has already been enrolled in the town high school, and instructions have been given to the administration that any harassment of her based on any… past questionable history involving her birth, Jack’s death, or Jeremy’s perversion, is to be dealt with immediately and harshly. When she has graduated, I shall see to it that her university tuition is paid for and that she is properly prepared for life in the way that you ensured my son, Jack, would never be when you got pregnant and ruined his life.”

“Mrs. Parr-”

Adeline raised her finger to silence her daughter-in-law. “I’m not finished. In return, you will conduct yourself respectfully and respectably in and out of this house. You will stay out of my sight except for mealtimes, at which time we will all be together. You will defer to my wishes at all times, especially with regard to Morgan’s upbringing while she is under my roof. Unlike you, she is a Parr by blood rather than by convenience.”

“By convenience?” Christina practically shouted the word. “I was pregnant! We were in love! You forced us to leave here! You threatened my family! I never saw my father again because of what you did to us. He died while I was in Toronto, and he’d been dead for six months before I even found out he was gone! And for what? Jack and I loved each other. We have a beautiful daughter-your granddaughter-and we were happy. We had everything before he died. And when he did, I had nowhere else to come except back to the Landing.”

“Don’t raise your voice to me, Christina. You and Jack made your own choices. If you find my conditions too arduous, Mrs. Parr,” Adeline added, putting a vicious accent on the marital title she clearly felt Christina was unworthy to bear, “you may leave my house and fend for yourself. You will be entirely on your own, as will your daughter.”

From outside, Christina heard the Chevelle’s doors slam shut, and the sound of Jeremy and Morgan’s feet on the gravel of the circular driveway in front of Parr House.

“Do we understand each other, Christina? Be quick. I hear Jeremy and Morgan coming back in from the car. I warn you-be very, very careful in case you’re thinking of making a scene in front of your daughter and my son. I can make life even more difficult and painful for you than it is right now. Believe me. You have no idea the scope of my influence.” Oh, but I do, Christina thought, feeling fresh hate and fresh desperation in equal measure. I do. I felt it fifteen years ago, and now I’m feeling it again tonight. Nothing has changed. Nothing. Her vision blurred.

Adeline’s pale, hard face swam. Christina brushed the tears away with the back of her hand, realizing suddenly that this particular die had been cast the moment she’d first heard that Jack had been killed on that highway back in February. The rest of this drama was a matter of everyone playing their assigned parts, particularly Christina, at least until she could figure a way out, back to the city. Any city. Anywhere but here.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Yes what, Christina?”

“Yes, Mrs. Parr. We understand each other.”

“Good. Oh, and Christina…?”

“What?”

“You may call me Adeline. After all,” she added, the mockery in her voice both cruel and unmistakable, “we’re family now.”

When Morgan and Jeremy came through the door, laden with suitcases, the sight of Adeline smiling beatifically with her arm around Christina’s shoulders greeted them.

To Morgan it looked as though her mother had been crying. With the trusting innocence of her inexperience and tender age, she assumed that her mother and grandmother had been discussing her father. It was either that, or the reunion was an emotional one for her mother, given that it was her first time back home since Morgan had been