Relationships spread over sixty-plus years have twists and turns.
MARNIE 1953
I can’t wait to get out of the car and into my new plaid bathing suit. I’ve been coming here to Grandmother’s Laurentian cottage for two weeks ever since I was a baby. Every year feels better than the one before. I’ve grown up a bit during the winter, I guess. This is summer number eight.
The first thing I noticed is the strong smell of pine needles baking in the July sunshine. Then the smell of thyme growing near the kitchen door. I love the squeak of the screen door’s spring when I pull it open. I feel polite and important holding the door for Mummy and Grandmother to carry in stuff from the car.
When I jump off the dock into the lake, I feel completely relaxed even though the water is over my head. Those wintertime swimming lessons really helped a lot, although I complained at the time.
“I love this lake! I love this lake!” I yelled, kicking as fast as I could while swimming on my back. After lunch at the picnic table, I wandered over to my great aunt’s big stone house next door. In the enormous kitchen I found the maids Hilda and Annette, who greeted me with cries of, “My goodness, Marnie, how much you’ve grown!” My blonde pigtails were still wet. I’ve changed into a pink tee shirt and my new white shorts.
“Where’s David?” I asked.
“In his room playing with the new tape recorder his dad bought him. He’ll be wanting to interview you – he’s already questioned the rest of us. Hearing your own voice come out of the speaker is weird.”
When you are a boy of eleven with a rich family, you get expensive, technical things to keep you entertained over the summer. His Granny owns the biggest property on Sixteen Island Lake. It's like a private compound, so my cousin has zero people to play with. Both of us are good at keeping ourselves occupied because we’re only children. We’ve never had brothers or sisters to play board games with.
David never acts particularly happy to see me when I arrive and won’t tell me what he does when I’m not around. He treats me more like a piece of old furniture – lots of teasing, general ignoring, only bothering with me when I am somehow useful. I wonder what he’s going to interview me about on his tape recorder. I’ve never even seen one. It will be like acting in a play at school, I guess.
DAVID 1968
My cousin Marnie is marrying John on Saturday. He’s a cool guy who’s become a close friend over the four years they’ve been dating. He asked me to be a groomsman at the wedding, and I’m pumped about it. Every man looks handsome in a morning coat, even someone with a paunch like me. Having never gone to university I don’t have fraternity brothers like John has – so it’s super nice of him to include me. I guess he wanted someone from Marnie’s side. I’m able to make him laugh a lot, especially when we go out for drinks without her.
To be honest, these days I’m a little tired of Marnie. When we were teenagers, we would laugh together at family gatherings. In our early twenties we’d meet for lunch when I was at the bank and she was at college. Now she can be uptight.
She probably thinks I’m spoiled because my family has so much money, but there are lots of things she has that I really envy. Like having two nice parents (my dad drinks too much and is nasty to my mum), a university degree, an attractive appearance, and somebody who loves her enough to propose marriage. John, on the other hand, is a wonderful man. Now, if he asked me to go on a trip with him, I’d jump at the chance. He’s attractive, smart, and a great listener. He gets my quirky ways.
For over forty years, Marnie’s Grandmother (my great aunt Jane) and Aunt Martha stayed in the cottage that Granny built for her sister Jane completely rent-free. Now that all three women have died, I guess we’ll offer it to John and Marnie to use in the summer. I like all their friends that I’ve met so far, and if they’re staying next door, I’ll have a readymade social life. It would reduce the number of houseguests I need to invite to keep weekends lively.
I doubt they realize how lucky they are to be related to me. Marnie is the third generation to enjoy free summertime accommodation from my family. She probably will just expect it and never acknowledge our generosity.
MARNIE 1980
A few years ago, David quit his job at the bank and moved to Sixteen Island Lake for eight months of the year. Their big house is insulated so he and his mum live there all year round, only leaving for Florida from December to March. He’s become something of an art collector and enjoys buying and selling pieces on a whim. He’s so rich that he doesn’t need to work – never has.
Since the little blue cottage became vacant, they’ve let us use it every summer. Every spring I offer to pay rent, electricity, or propane gas but they won’t let me. Two years ago, we repainted the kitchen to show our appreciation.
We invite David and Irene to dinner a lot and make sure our kids know what a lucky family we are. David is still single and is unlikely to ever have kids, and I’ve witnessed the joy my kids bring to his life and vice
versa. We asked David to be Laura’s godfather.
In the spring John accepted a new job in New Zealand. Rather a shock to find that we are moving there for three years. Our kids are so young it won’t affect their schooling: Laura is eight, Jim is six.
When I told David and his mum that we are moving away temporarily, I added, “We’ll be back. What
should we do with our canoe and sailboat while we’re away?"
“Take them off the property,” replied David in an unusually harsh tone. “A lot can happen in three years.” Completely shocked, I hid my dismay. After moving the boats to other friends’ properties, we packed up and flew overseas in April.
Now it’s August and we’re on home leave for four weeks. In advance I wrote to ask if we could spend a week in our pretty little blue cottage, but Irene wrote back, “That’s impossible. We’ve given a long-term lease to an Ottawa doctor.”
Of course, because David and his mother are the owners, they can do whatever they want with it. It just killed me to be shut out of this cottage built for my grandmother by her sister in the 1920s. Being beholden to someone else’s generosity is a double-edged sword. My kids are the fourth generation to stay rent-free on that beautiful property. Because David’s Granny was the one with money, her descendants call the shots.
Even if sometime in the future David invites us to stay in his big stone house, I refuse to go. I resent being eliminated from our family compound and mourn it.
DAVID 2005
I retired thirty years ago, after my alcoholic father died. Then my mother died so now I run the show. I live almost fulltime in the Laurentians. Marnie is still teaching and since John recently retired, he is free to frequently come visit me while she stays in Toronto. It’s fantastic. We eat and drink too much, have lots of laughs, and gossip away.
On the few occasions that Marnie comes too, she is rather a pain. This morning they came down to breakfast well after I’d eaten.
“Good of you to join me! What would you like for breakfast - eggs or cereal?”
“One of your famous omelettes would be a treat, thanks,” said Marnie. “I see you’ve set the table in the dining room. May we sit outside on this lovely sunny day?”
“It’s only 9:20 and already The General is barking out the orders,” I said, expecting a laugh. John smiled and poured a coffee.
She started glumly moving the place settings outside. Does she even have a sense of humour? It’s so much easier when John’s here without her.
MARNIE 2008
Everybody was shocked when David was suddenly killed in a car accident. The trustee settling David’s estate invited John and me to his office to discuss the will. Subconsciously, I let myself hope I would inherit the little blue cottage. I was definitely his closest relative.
“I regret to inform you that neither you nor any member of your family are beneficiaries,” the trustee stated. I cried so hard that I collapsed on the floor of the office – unable to catch my breath.
How could my cousin be so cold-hearted towards John and my kids who adored him? I seriously question whether David ever loved me at all.