It's Just a Game

Nine: Bernadette

Jessie Jessop sat in her car for a couple of minutes, pretending she was listening to the radio. She was in front of Bernadette King's house on Paradise Drive, just off Lawnsberry. Not for the first time, she wondered why Bernadette King chose to live in such a suburban area with so many little kids around. Was she trying to remind herself how lucky she was to be single or did she think she would find a single dad who would be smitten with her grace and charm and make a life with her? Bernadette would like to have a pre-trained husband and children without having to cope with stretch marks.

Not nice, Jessie, she reminded herself. She knew she was in a pissy mood because she had to do the right thing and she knew it was going to be difficult. She had grown up on the same street as Bernadette and Pauline, not far from Paradise Drive but it was a lot less populated then and there were not many children their age. She and Bernadette made do with each other as best friends. Pauline was the bane of their existence, just young enough to add nothing to their conversations and just old enough to intrude on their plans for the day.

Now Pauline was dead, and the least Jessie could do was express her condolences in person to her oldest, if not her best, friend. They had kept in contact over the years, but they had nothing in common. Jessie got married right after high school and now she was a grandmother. In the early years, she had envied Bernie going to Carleton University and having a career.

Funny how it evened out over time. When her third and last child left home, she and Steve sold their house and moved into a condo in Stittsville. His goal had been to retire at fifty-five and he did. Jessie was younger and having never had a career, she was happy enough to have a change of surroundings. The condo had three bedrooms and she took the smallest one for her art studio and she reveled in having a place that was hers and hers alone for her art journaling. She did not miss lugging a vacuum up and down stairs in their big old house.

She adored having her own studio, where she could relive her best memories in the artfully and carefully designed pages of her precious journals. Pauline's wake and funeral had been private and had taken place more than a month ago. She and Steve had sent flowers to the funeral home, but she had to do the right thing and see Bernadette in person.

Jessie sighed and got out of her car.

Bernadette saw the car parked on the street in front of her bungalow. September always felt like the beginning of a new season and she knew that that had to do with going to school. Back to school, back to university, new books, new gear, new hopes, new dreams. She knew that her restless feeling had as much to do with relinquishing the last details of her sister's apartment to a complete stranger as it did with the September sense of impending change. She did not want to think about relegating the task to Eleanor's niece but there's no way she could deal with going through the death clearing.

She stood in her living room, back far enough so whoever was in the car could not see her. Maybe it was Millie, coming with some personal stuff of Pauline's even though she had made it crystal clear that she wanted anything she needed to see left at Pauline's. She would set her own time to deal with it.

She saw Jessie get out of the car and was immediately relieved. She could relax with Jessie. Jessie was the kind of person who spoke her mind. She would want details, and she would have no hesitation in asking for them.

Bernadette opened the front door before Jessie got to it and greeted her friend with as much excitement as she could muster. They hugged and Bernadette guided Jessie into the living room.

She offered coffee and Jesse said, "Sure. That would be great."

When Bernadette went to the kitchen to make coffee, she was not surprised that Jessie followed her in and perched upon one of the tall stools at the breakfast counter.

Bernadette said, "I don't have one of those fancy pod machines so it's just a regular old dark roast coffee in a regular old coffee pot."

"That's just dandy," Jessie said. "And I take it black."

"That's new." Bernadette the words but realized that it had been months since she had seen Jessie, maybe more than a year. Maybe not since she had moves out of the city.

"Yes. I gave up dairy last year and I feel so much better."

Bernadette took two coffee cups from the cupboard and sat on the stool next to Jessie, and the two women looked at each other, both with semi smiles. They let their eyes do the talking, looking soft at each other, and Jessie broke the silence, "I know I should have come to see you sooner than this."

"It doesn't matter," Bernadette said, "you're here now."

Jessie said, "I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry. I had no idea."

"Neither did I. It wasn't like her at all."

"I thought she was involved with someone. Not that being involved is always the answer...."

Bernadette heard the coffee pot make the noise it made that indicated that it was done with making the coffee and she got up and brought the pot over and filled both cups. As she replaced the pot in the machine, she hesitated. Was there something in what Jessie said that she should respond to?

"How did she do with?" Jessie said and then held up her hand and looked away and scrunched her face up, her eyes closed tightly. "I'm sorry but I just had to ask. I've heard a lot of different stories, but I figured you're the only person who would know the actual facts."

Returning to her perch on the tall stool, Bernadette said, "It was an overdose. She had pills and she had a bottle of gin and she took the pills and washed it down with gin and tonic."