The Birthday Lunch Read Free

maples hunch over the driveway as Hal walks beneath them on his way to the garage. Laverne parks her Volkswagen in the driveway. Not Hal. Unwilling to have the Chev Impala sullied by seed pods and bird droppings, he parks his car inside the garage. Lily teases him about the pride he takes in the Chev Impala. Your secret lover, Clarissa Imogene, she says. Lily has always named his cars: the turquoise Nash he drove when they were courting was Natasha; the Dodge Challenger Hal drove when he was on the road selling for Merck Pharmaceuticals, was Delores Christobel. Apart from naming them, Lily has never expressed any interest in the cars or in learning to drive and to be honest, because of the expense of buying and maintaining a second car, Hal has never encouraged her to learn.
    Hal will often do small finishing jobs inside the garage and it is here at the workbench that he sanded and oiled the commode and the rocking chair he is delivering today. He runs a practised hand over the wood, checking for a splinter or a burr he might have missed. Satisfied the surfaces are smooth he wraps the furniture in flannel sheets and lifts them into the trunk, banking them with pillows to prevent scratching during the drive to Waterford.
    Laverne waits ten minutes after Hal has driven away before telephoning upstairs. Her sister may have overheard the nasty argument between Hal and herself last night and she does not want to be seen as taking advantage of the fact that he is out of the way. As usual the telephone rings and rings before Lily decides to answer.
    “Happy Birthday, Sis,” Laverne says. “What time will we have your birthday lunch?”
    “Could we have it tomorrow? Hal and I are having lunch at Adair’s today. He is picking me up at twelve-thirty.”
    “But we agreed you were having lunch with me.”
    “I did not agree, Laverne—you took it for granted that you and I would be having lunch together today. Since it’s my birthday, you might have considered including Hal. In case you’ve forgotten, he
is
my husband.” Strong words for Lily and she might have gone on if she had not reminded herself for the umpteenth time that it was her idea that she and Laverne pool their father’s inheritance in order to buy the Old Steadman House. Tired of living in rented apartments and houses, seven altogether, Lily wanted a place of her own, wanted it badly enough to overlook the fact that her husband and sister barely tolerated one another, a situation Lily had hoped would eventually change.
    Laverne says, “Hal wouldn’t like the food I’ve prepared: asparagus and Stilton soup, Coquille St. Jacques.”
    “You’ve already made lunch?”
    “I have, and it won’t keep in this heat.”
    “You have a fridge.”
    “But the fridge is tiny. I also have a good bottle of wine.”
    Lily concedes. “All right then,” she says, “I’ll be there at eleven-thirty wearing the blue silk pant suit Claudia gave me for my birthday.”
    “Have you heard from Matthew?”
    “It’s six o’clock in the morning in Alberta. Matt won’t call me until later this afternoon.”
    Laverne is well aware of the time difference, but rarely does she miss an opportunity to mention Matthew’s name. She has always preferred her nephew to her niece. Although she is careful to avoid having favourites in the classroom, the fact is Laverne prefers boys. In her opinion, boys are usually honest and direct whereas girls are inclined to be sneaky and underhanded.
    Morning imbues Hal with unbridled optimism, with the conviction that a new day offers unforeseen prospects and ventures. Why would he believe otherwise? What is the point of getting out of bed in the morning if you don’t expect life to meet you partway? While cruising past the Scotiabank and the Dominion grocery store, Northrup’s Garage and the Creamery at twenty miles an hour, Hal entertains the notion that his situation is improving and he will not always be scrambling to keep up with overdue