Snug Harbour
In which Lorne takes Ella out west and Sharanne makes plans for the future…
Every November, after the apple harvest in the Valley, Lorne does a massive clean-up of the shop. His mother-in-law Lois and his daughter Ella are there to make sure he purges, since his natural inclination is to simply “artfully re-arrange.” He’s searching for a tin trough to display overstock gloves when from the shelf above, a silk bouquet tumbles down and hits him in the head. The petals are covered in dust, but tiny silk beads still hold the stems together.
“Look what I found!” he hollers down from the ladder.
Ella peers up from below. “I built a fort up there once. I guess I left my centrepiece behind. Oh well, keep going, Dad. We’ve got two more aisles to finish before closing.”
“Okay,” Lorne says, but he takes the tiny bouquet to the back room and sits for a moment at his desk. There’s a photograph of Ella at four years old, standing in front of a ferry with the mountains in the background. He’s wearing sunglasses so you can’t tell he’d been crying, but if you look closely, you can see that he’s holding Ella tightly, like he almost lost her.
1986
Lorne always loved the ocean. As a kid, his parents packed him and his sister up and drove west for three weeks, hauling a tent-trailer behind their station wagon. His sister got carsick so she sat in the back seat while Lorne stretched out in the very back, surrounded by Farley Mowat and Jack London and an ever changing view. He thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful that Lake Louise until they crossed into British Colombia and drove south from Whistler to Vancouver. His first glimpse of the Pacific was something he’d never forgotten. He’d wanted to return many times over the years, but life got in the way. So when his old friend Wil called to say he was getting married in Langley, Lorne heard the mountains calling again.
“There’s one more thing,” Wil said, before ringing off. “Do you think Ella would like to be our flower girl?”
Lorne couldn’t imagine anything better than a trip out west with his daughter. He only had to convince Sharanne it was a good idea. Up until now, Ella had only ever travelled between the hair salon and Valley Hardware. What was a few thousands extra miles?
Lorne and Sharanne in the salon, where all things Ella are discussed.
“Absolutely not.” Sharanne refused to make eye-contact in the mirror and it felt to Lorne as though her snips were getting faster. He tensed a little, hoping she didn’t nick his ears. The hairdresser’s chair was where they negotiated everything from daycare to alimony, custody to Christmas morning. The strength of their settlement was the honesty and frequency of their deliberations. And the fact that Sharanne always had sharp objects in hand.
“It’s only a long weekend. I’ll take her to the Aquarium to see whales and sea otters. She’ll love it.”
Sharanne bit her lip, a sure sign he was getting closer to convincing her. But she looked sad. Besides one trip to Orlando in grade ten, Sharanne hadn’t travelled outside of Ontario. She still had the Mickey Mouse ears somewhere.
“Vancouver has these amazing bridges… everywhere you look, there’s water.”
“She doesn’t know how to swim,” Sharanne said.
“We won’t go in the water.”
“Mmm. Does Wil have a boat?”
Lorne shook his head.
Sharanne dusted the hair off Lorne’s neck, but didn’t remove the sheet.
“Wil asked if she’d be the flower girl.”
“Oh.” Sharanne picked up the broom and swept the floor with more intensity than usual.
“If you’re not comfortable, it’s alright. She’s still little, it’s a long flight – ”
“I want her to be my flower girl.”
Lorne coughed. The sheet around his neck began to choke him. He ripped it off. “You’re getting married?”
Sharanne hoisted up the beehive dryer and sat on the vinyl seat opposite him. “Chuck asked me at Thanksgiving. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now.”
“Congratulations.”
“This is awkward,” she mumbled.
Lorne agreed. They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“We have a rhythm, the two of us. I’m scared things will get weird,” she said.
“We’ll work it out.” A headache threatened behind his temples. How would adding a parent change things? He didn’t know, but Sharanne deserved to be happy and Chuck wasn’t a bad guy.
Sharanne cleared her throat. “Please don’t let her out of your sight.”
“You know I won’t.”
Sharanne sighed. “She’s going to be over the moon.”
“It’ll be the practice for your wedding.”
“We haven’t told her yet, but Chuck’s renting the arena for the reception.”
“You do love dancing.”
“And you love the mountains. Go on, have a great time.”
Lorne’s first mistake were the plane snacks. He should have known that if Ella ate four bags of bits n’ bites, she would need water. If Sharanne were there she would have told him to cool it on the salt. She might have predicted that Ella would accidentally lock herself in the airplane bathroom and need a stewardess to help her out. When they finally landed in Vancouver, she was too tired to look out the windows at Grouse Mountain. She needed both a nap and a bath. Lorne dragged her through the airport to the rent-a-car booth, second guessing the wisdom of bringing her along.
“Daddy? When are we going to see the ocean?” she whined.
The line ahead of them was fifteen passengers deep.
“Soon, sweetie. We just need to pick up our car.”
The queue moved at a snail’s pace. Lorne spotted another kiosk a few metres away. A bored looking agent sat behind a poster that read: “Convertible Special!” Chuck drove a corvette around town on the weekends. Why not splurge this one time?
Ten minutes later, they tossed their bags into the trunk of a red 1984 Dodge 600 Turbo.
“We’re race-car drivers, right Dad?”
“You bet. Press the button on the dash and we’ll kick it into sport mode.”
Lorne smiled widely at Ella and they made their way onto the expressway towards the suburbs. Moments later, it began to rain and the mountains disappeared from sight. Lorne rolled up the roof and their spiffy race car became dark and noisy. The patter of the downpour lulled Ella to sleep, and an hour later, they pulled into Wil’s driveway. It was dark but the lights were all on inside. Wil heard the car and ran out wearing a t-shirt that read “This Groom is Doomed.” The old friends hugged one another tightly and Ella woke up.
Wil went to the passenger door and opened it with dramatic flourish.
“Miss Ella, welcome.” He produced a long white feather from his pocket. “A gift.”
Ella opened her mouth, but said nothing, holding the feather against her face.
Will stood up and whispered to Lorne. “She’s adorable.”
“She’s exhausted.”
“Come on, little bird,” Wil said. “I have a special nest made up for you.”
Lorne and Wil stayed up late into the night, until the time change made it impossible for Lorne to keep his eyes open. The following morning he came down to breakfast to see Ella deep in conversation with his friend.
“Guess what?” Wil said to Lorne.
Lorne rubbed his eyes and checked to see if there was any fresh coffee.
“Ella thinks we should have ice cream today, so we must get dressed and find some.”
“Okay,” Lorne smiled at Ella. She had blueberry yogurt in her hair.
“Also,” Wil produced a list. “We have to pick up our tuxes, the rehearsal party hors d’oeuvres and something else that I can’t quite read…”
Lorne squinted at the handwriting. “Could be anything.”
“Yeah, no worries. It’s only spitting a little. Let’s go walk the sea wall.”
They arrived in White Rock and parked the convertible facing the ocean. It was as dark as the sky. Wil chased Ella down the seawall with his arms spread wide.
“I’m an eagle and I’m gonna swoop ya!” he yelled, not caring that the power walkers were giving him side eye for zigzagging all over.
Ella giggled and ran from him, and they took turns being the mouse and the eagle. After a while, she opted to climb along the rocks, collecting shells and feathers along the shore.
“What are you finding there, Hawk Eye?” Wil asked, crouching in the sand beside her.
She pointed to a piece of driftwood shaped like a snake.
“Way to go! Add it to your collection. I’m sure your Dad won’t mind bringing home a few rocks.” Wil winked. There was no room in their carry-on for pebbles, bird’s nests or wooden snakes. But Wil did not care about things like aviation weight restrictions.
“Have another look at this list. I think this last item is “Beer Quay.””
Lorne laughed. “Is that a place?”
“More like a nickname.”
“That you’re just making up right now?”
“I like to obey orders. If it’s on the list, we must do it.”
They found a pub that would pull pilsners for them and a hot fudge sundae for Ella and sat for the afternoon staring out at the sea. Wil and his fiancée Bonnie were moving to South Korea the following week to teach English and planned to travel around Asia for a year or two before settling down. Lorne was happy for him, and only a tiny bit jealous of his freedom.
“We should get back so we’re not late for rehearsal,” Lorne said.
“Yeah, Bonnie would not be happy about that. She told me not to forget the food, the tuxes and the flowers–”
“Wait. We didn’t get flowers.”
“Was it on the list?”
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Beer Quay.”
“Bou-quet.”
“I’m in trouble.”
“Ella, tell Uncle Wil not to worry. What secret button does our car have?”
“Sport Mode!”
“Hop in everyone. We have a bouquet to pick up.”
Lorne made ridiculous race car sounds (which thankfully did not lead to any speeding tickets) until they reached the florist. When Wil handed the silk floral arrangement to Ella, she had to let go of her feathers and rocks to examine it. It made Lorne weirdly proud to see disappointment cross her face.
“Bonnie thought silk would be better for a kid,” Wil said, noting she’d shown more enthusiasm for beach glass.
Lorne promised himself that the next time Ella held a bouquet, the roses would smell like roses, and crumble when they dried out. He made a mental note to tell Sharanne when he got home.
The morning of the wedding, Wil crept into the den and woke Lorne and Ella up early.
“Hey. The sun will come out today and I was thinking you hadn’t really seen the mountains yet because of all the rain…”
“What time is it?”
Wil waved his hand in the air. “We’ve got five hours until we have to be back. What do you say we take off to Horseshoe Bay?”
Lorne looked at Ella. She’d been living on gummy worms and ice-cream for two days and the jet lag showed under her eyes. It was at least an hour to the North Shore.
“It might be a bit tight…”
Ella sat up. “I want to see the mountains.”
They made it across the Port Mann Bridge and the Second Narrows Bridge in record time, travelling with the top down and a mix tape of terrible English pub songs blaring from the stereo. When they arrived in Horseshoe Bay, the view of the water and the mountains brought Lorne right back to being a kid in his parents’ station wagon. It was stunning.
They bought three round-trip passenger tickets to Bowen Island, a quick sail across the harbour. The island had been a refuge for Vietnam dissenters and now housed a vibrant arts community. When they disembarked, Wil “the eagle” chased Ella down the boardwalk and they wandered around the still-sleeping hamlet looking for a coffee shop. They ended up ordering smoked salmon eggs benedict at Doc’s. At a tourist shop that sold dream-catchers, Wil bought Ella another eagle feather ‘so she could fly with two wings’ and before long, they were once again on the ferry heading back to shore.
The last time they saw Ella, she was sitting in the window well behind them, watching the island recede from view while Lorne and Wil talked about how to secure a cummerbund when they got home. When the foghorn sounded their arrival, Lorne reached for his daughter, but she was gone.
“Ella?” A cold sweat broke out under his leather jacket.
Wil stood up and paced the rows of seats, ducking down to see if she was hiding. “Hawk Eye?”
Lorne’s voice grew louder. He hated yelling in public. He always wanted to hug kids when their parents yelled at them at the grocery store. But he wasn’t thinking about any of that now. He didn’t even feel like he was in his own body.
“Ella! Where are you? It’s time to get off the ferry!”
“I’ll check the washrooms,” Wil said, his voice sounding lower and calmer than usual.
Lorne nodded, but his mind was blank. What would Sharanne do? Sharanne wouldn’t have let her out of sight.
Wil reappeared. “Let’s split up. You go out to the deck, I’ll search the crowds.”
They called out for her, louder and louder. The ferry docked and the crowd’s footsteps echoed down the steel gangplank into the passenger waiting area on shore. Lorne ran along the deck, panic rising in his throat as he looked down at the dark swirling waters below. He’d promised Sharanne they wouldn’t go on a boat, and now he’d lost Ella.
“Can I help you, sir?” A BC Ferries employee approached him, concern gathering across her face.
“I’ve lost my daughter, she’s four,” Lorne sputtered. “We didn’t put her swimming lessons!”
The woman took a walkie-talkie and radioed her colleagues. “We’re looking on all levels, sir. Why don’t you disembark and see if she is in the passenger waiting room?”
Ella would never get off the boat without him. He was shaking his head. What if she’d been kidnapped and was in the trunk of one the cars disappearing from the ferry right now?
“Lorne. I’ll stay on the ferry, you go ahead.” Wil appeared, looking as pale as his “doomed groom” t-shirt.
Lorne joined the last of the passengers walking off the ferry, calling out Ella’s name, while the crowd parted in front of him like the Red Sea. He ran up three flights, his breathing getting faster, when a familiar voice called out.
“Hey Dad! I’m gonna swoop ya!”
Ella held out her feathers, jumped down from the bench where she’d been waiting, and ran to hug him.
When Wil caught up to them, Lorne was weeping.
Half an hour later, Ella, exhausted from the very serious chat her father had given her, and shocked by his tears, fell fast asleep and didn’t wake until they were back in the suburbs.
Sunday night, Lorne dropped Ella off at Sharanne’s apartment. She hugged Ella close, and before she could stop herself, started to cry.
“Look at Mommy, being silly . I’ve been so emotional. I’ve missed you.”
Ella put her mop of curls on Sharanne’s shoulder and sighed.
“How was the wedding?”
“Perfect,” Lorne said, a touch too quickly.
Sharanne looked up sharply. She had an uncanny knack for knowing when people were telling half a story.
“Sweetheart, go put your pyjamas on and I’ll make you a hot chocolate. I want to hear all about your adventures.”
When they were alone, she sat up on the couch and stared at him. “The wedding was perfect?”
Lorne grimaced. He closed his eyes and thought of Ella, poised like a bird of prey with an eagle feather in hand. He and Sharanne had a rhythm, and it wasn’t Chuck who was going to break their stride. There was nothing to do but tell her everything.
“Well, you’re not the only one who cried this weekend…”
The End