request. A man with pockmarked skin slid out and crossed the floor to ask the caller if he would oblige. He reported the caller would start once he’d downed his drink. “Don’t imagine he’s drinking water,” he said, snickering.
Once on the dance floor, the group arranged themselves into four couples with Ed claiming Lily as his partner. The fiddle started playing, and they joined other foursomes as they began stomping their feet and clapping to the music. People on the side whooped at their friends. The girls wove in and out under the arms of the boys, skipped forward and back to “do-si-do,” and then linked arms for the promenade. Lily slipped her arm through Ed’s and they began skipping forward in a circle. As they passed the sidelined hooters, a young man made a suggestive comment about Lily’s ample breasts. Ed swirled around so quickly that Lily didn’t see what happened. But the man had blood on his lips.
“She’s sweet on a boxer named Barnaby!” the bloody-mouthed man goaded. Lily recalled now he was the “creep” at teachers’ college who hadn’t made it. She had been relieved to think he would never be in a classroom. Dancing stopped as the partiers egged the men on from the sidelines.
“You’re asking for it,” Ed said as he delivered another punch.
Lily and the other girls scurried out of the inn and along the path as quickly as possible in order to stand at a safe distance. They could hear taunts, insults, and blows as they rushed away.
“Now they’ve all joined in,” a girl said, giggling nervously. “Last year there was a ruckus that ended with a fiddle being slammed over the caller’s head, I don’t think my parents are going to let me come here anymore.”
“I wonder if we could forbid alcohol for the first part of the evening so the gals can dance before a fight gets started?” Lily said.
The girls, traipsing behind her let out a skeptical laugh. “Why do you think the boys go to Dew Drop?” the girl who had recounted the fiddle bashing piped up. “Moonshine!”
When Ed caught up with Lily later, he grabbed her arm to stop her.
“You should have told me you had a boyfriend,” he said. “I don’t like being made a fool in front of my friends.”
“Are you jealous, Ed?” Lily regretted her teasing as soon as she saw the hurt in Ed’s eyes. “Look, if you promise not to fight, I’ll come with you next Saturday. But one punch and I’ll find other amusements in Glace Bay.” Lily felt she was back at school lecturing Ed. Her heart was filled with tender and frustrated emotions.
Ed gave her a prolonged kiss while the other girls stood gawking. Lily looked at the audience and blushed. She had been slow to resist Ed’s advances.
Sunday family dinner seemed the right occasion to introduce Lily to the Parsons family. She and Ed had been dating now for almost four months. His invitation to meet his parents came with a rider: “Don’t be surprised if my mother treats me like a five-year-old.” Ed’s older brothers, Tim and Andrew, had left home to train at Val Cartier before being shipped overseas, but three married brothers with their families came for the noontime meal to meet Lily.
“How would you keep boys who want to be miners in school?” Mr. Parsons asked, lamenting his grade-eight education. They were all gathered in the living room, the children playing with a train set that was brought out whenever they visited.
“We can’t force them to stay in school, but we can lay the foundation,” Lily said. “I just concentrate on the three R’s; reading, writing, and arithmetic. Girls already love to read. It’s the boys who hate books. Except to throw them.” The family joined Lily in laughter. “I do try to give the boys books that will interest them, but it’s not easy.”
Mr. Parsons brought up Ed’s misdemeanor in the washroom, but Ed protested. Lily adroitly turned the conversation to the Christmas play.
Before the meal, Lily stood up and offered to help Mrs. Parsons serve the food, following her into the kitchen.
“No need to help,” Mrs. Parsons said as Lily stepped out of her way.
Despite her plump figure, Mrs. Parsons spun around the kitchen like a top. Lily wondered what Mrs. Parsons would have done with a daughter. The bustling about her kitchen, however, resulted in a delicious pot roast in a rich tomato-and-onion sauce. Mr. Parsons said grace, and the family members crossed themselves, a reminder to Lily that Ed had been raised Catholic. Mrs. Parsons ladled the meat onto the plates along with a large scoop of buttered mashed potatoes.
“My mother isn’t a good cook,” Lily confessed, relishing the tender beef and gravy. “Dinner in our house consists of high-level conversation and low-level food.”
“Well, if that’s the case, Lily,” Mr. Parsons said, “why don’t ya stay with us for Christmas and enjoy a right big meal with all the trimmings made by Mrs. Parsons? Then ya’d meet Tim and Andrew.” Mrs. Parsons’s eyes welled up with tears, and she crossed herself again.
“I would like to meet Tim and Andrew, but I would miss spending Christmas with my aunt Marjorie. She’s my father’s sister and always comes to our house for Christmas.”
“Help me clear the plates, dear, and you can tell me more about your aunt,” Mrs. Parsons said kindly as she bustled about clearing dishes.
“I don’t know how much longer she’ll be with us,” Lily said, her voice quivering as she brought the first load of dirty dishes to the kitchen sink. “She would be appalled that I’m so emotional with strangers.”
“We’re not strangers, Lily. Ed talks about you constantly. Especially how you helped him at school.”
“Well, until he peeked into that washroom.” Lily laughed. “It was a unique way of getting expelled.”
“Are the two of you going to the Christmas dance at the Dew Drop?”
“I’m not,” Lily said. “The man who runs the place is serving free punch. It will be mayhem.”
Mrs. Parsons turned from the sink and looked at Lily. “I’ve spent my life sticking up for Ed. According to him, every antic was someone else’s fault.”
“I think moms always have a favourite,” Lily said thoughtfully. She recalled Beth’s hard fall from grace as the special daughter. Lily wanted to tell Mrs. Parsons about her sister’s baby, but realized she couldn’t discuss this with such a devout Catholic. Beth was adamant that she would not keep it, so Amelia had gone hat-in-hand to the Anglican Parish to see who might adopt the child once it arrived. Beatrice, a cousin of the vicar whose husband had a fishing boat, offered. Lily joined her mother and Beth when they’d gone to Peggy’s Cove to make the arrangements. They were greeted with homemade bread and deep-fried cod. Beatrice’s four children, ranging from eight to fifteen years of age, were excited about having a baby in the house. “We all have to share a room,” the fifteen-year-old said. She looked at Beatrice. “Could I share the room with the baby?” she asked. Beatrice nodded, eliciting a broad grin.
When everything was settled regarding Beth’s confinement, Amelia turned to Beatrice and asked if she would like to visit Sydney. “We own a pharmacy,” Amelia said.
“Do you sell candy?” the youngest child asked.
“For a penny, but perhaps you can have some for free,” Amelia said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “There’re lots of things to do in Sydney.”
