Chapter 20 – Scotland
"Ma? You're home?" Beckett yells after pushing open the front door that is unlocked. Louise can't help giggling. He looks like a kid coming home from school.
"Course I am, son," Mrs Beckett replies as she enters the hall, rubbing flour off her hands on her apron, a huge grin on her wrinkled features. Louise has seen a photo of her in Beckett's office but it's got nothing on the person who's facing her. She has all her wrinkles in the right places, Louise reflects. Very much like my grandmother. She looks gorgeous when she smiles. I wish I could be like her when I get older. She sighs inwardly and waits for mother and son to reconnect, her hands folding in front of her. Mrs Beckett gives one last kiss to her son and turns to her. "So, this is the young lady I was so looking forward to meeting!" She extends her hand and Louise shakes it. Her skin is warm and the handshake firm. Louise has always disliked people with weak handshakes.
"Good evening, Mrs Beckett, I'm sure glad to finally meet you. Your son has told me quite a lot about you," she says with a smile.
"Well, dear, I'm afraid my son is much too good to his mother. I don't deserve his praise."
"Ma!" Beckett protests. "You know it's not true. Besides, Louise is going to spend a few days here with us and make her own opinion."
"And I'm sure glad she is. We're going to have plenty of time together, my dear," she tells Louise.
"I'm looking forward to it, Mrs Beckett."
"No, no, you shouldn't call me that. That was my mother-in-law's name. Everyone in the village calls me Ma, like my own son." She pats her arm affectionately.
Louise nods. "Ma it is then."
Mrs Beckett turns to her son. "I'll let you help Louise settle. When you're finished, get downstairs. Dinner will be ready shortly. I made your favorite stew and sticky toffee pudding." Louise sees Carson's eyes light up. Mrs Beckett turns to her. "I'm sorry if it's a little bit too much for a dinner but I wanted to treat him to something I know he's really missed. The pudding as you can gather is quite rich, I'm afraid. It's filled with dates and a toffee sauce."
"Really decadent," Beckett elaborates, waggling his eyebrows enticingly, his eyes filled with mirth.
"I'll taste some, then," she answers with a smile.
"Do you not eat dessert, child?" Ma asks her, worriedly.
Louise lifts her hands. "No, no, don't worry, Mrs Beckett. It's just... Carson might not have told you but I'm diabetic so... How can I put it? I try to avoid eating high carb desserts when I can, except when they're really worth it, which it is, so bring it on!" she banters with a smile.
"I'm sorry, dear. I think Carson had mentioned it in passing in one of his latest messages. I just forgot about it. I'm so very sorry, dear. I can whisk away something else. It won't take me a minute..." she offers, looking embarrassed.
Louise smiles at her again. "It's OK, really! I intend to taste everything you prepare for us while we're here and learn all the recipes Carson likes so I can make them for him. A taste won't hurt me as long as I don't indulge too much," she adds, winking.
"Your friend is a really sweet lady, Carson," his mother says as they're sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table, having each a glass of the whisky she keeps for special occasions.
He nods in agreement. "She is, Ma. And she deserves to be happy, even though, right now, I believe she's quite miserable. I hope her stay here will do her good."
"Anyone down there somewhere?" they hear Louise call from the bottom of the stairs.
"Right here, deary," Carson calls her. She's changed into close fitting jeans and the pullover he's offered her when he came back the last time.
Mrs Beckett smiles at her fondly. "I see you're trying to fit in, my dear. It looks good on you." Louise nods her thanks. "Come and join us. The stew is almost ready and we were having some whisky while waiting for you," Mrs Beckett says, pouring another glass and sliding it towards Louise.
Louise blanches. "Oh, right. It's a tradition, I guess..."
Mrs Beckett sees her unease and stands. "Carson, be a dear and make sure I've closed the gate and shutters. Ms Léger and I will finish preparing dinner." He nods and leaves with an encouraging smile towards Louise. Ma turns to her and folds her hands in front of her on the table. "Sit down, Ms Léger and tell me what's bothering you."
"Is that so obvious?" Louise looks at her sheepishly, the color slowly returning to her cheeks.
"Yes, it is and as I gather, it's got to do with the whisky I offered you. I sent my boy away so you feel free to talk about it should you wish to, of course," she says as she pours the whisky back into the bottle. She walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of diet soda, offering it to Louise who thanks her with an embarrassed smile.
"I... I don't know you, Mrs Beckett, and I wouldn't want you to think badly of me..." Louise looks at her hands wrapped around the untouched bottle of soda.
"Is it something my boy knows?" Louise looks horrified. "You know, my dear, I don't pass judgment on people easily. I sure know we all have reasons – good and bad alike – to do what we do. I tend to listen and be compassionate. If you want to talk about it, I'll guard your secret better than my own. If you don't, that's fine by me as well..."
"Actually, Ma'am, it's a long story..." Louise had never thought she'd talk to anybody about this. She's always avoided being cornered into it – until now. Actually, she doesn't feel cornered at all. She trusts Ms Beckett. And sometimes, talking to a stranger is much easier than spilling it to your closest friends.
Mrs Beckett stands. "Well, dear, if you still want to talk about it tomorrow, join me for a walk. Time is all I have and I'll happily grant it to you. Now, come, you must be famished."
"So, now, you see why I did what I did though it was stupid and I'll regret it for the rest of my life," she says, turning away from her host to watch the sunrise over the cliff.
She's gotten up as early as she does on the City, tiptoeing to the kitchen to see if she could fix herself some coffee only to find Carson's mother already up. "You're very early, child."
"Good morning, Ma'am. Yes, I always am. Force of habit, I guess."
"And too many worries to stay in bed, right?" Mrs Beckett points out with a gentle smile. "Something like that, yeah." She smiles back. There is something in that woman that makes her feel at ease and for the first time in years, she doesn't feel the need to retreat into her shell and pretend everything is fine.
"Would you like to have breakfast, my dear? I know it's awfully early but in your trade I guess you're used to it."
"Indeed, I am. And yes, please. I'd love to have breakfast." Ma fixes her a hearty meal, showing her how to make tattie scones and black pudding. She decides to leave the grilled kipper and buttered mushrooms for the next day, not knowing if the younger woman would be ready for such an exotic breakfast. Little does she know that Louise is quite disappointed by the lack of it.
When they have finished their second cup of coffee for Louise and weak tea for her host, Ma offers her to take a walk to see the sights at sunrise. "It's still a little bit chilly at this time of day and Carson mentioned you're sensitive to the cold but if you bundle up, you might even like it."
"Actually, Ma'am, I need the walk after such a huge breakfast!" she chuckles. "I think I couldn't have eaten one more bite!"
They talk about this and that – mostly unimportant things. Carson has cautioned his mother against cornering Louise into talking about her past so she avoids all subjects that could border on that. Louise sees her discomfort as they walk to the other end of the village, towards the cliff. "You told me last night that if I wanted to confide in you, you would be willing to listen..." she finally finds the nerve to say. Mrs Beckett nods quietly. It's not going to be easy, she knows, but she's realized she needs to talk about it before it eats at her. In the City, she doesn't want people to know. God knows she's wanted this second chance so much, she doesn't want to screw it up by telling anyone. General O'Neill knows – at least, broadly speaking. But she's never talked to anyone else about it for no reason but to let it out and maybe have a chance at grace.
"I... I was cautioned against ever drinking alcohol again," she starts saying uneasily.
Mrs Beckett looks at her with an encouraging smile. "You have to understand I won't tell a word to anyone, my dear, not even my own son. No matter what you tell me will remain between us unless you tell me otherwise." Louise nods in understanding "You're a recovering alcoholic, aren't you?" She nods again, tears of shame brimming in her eyes. "There's no shame in that, love. We all make mistakes. What I see is a young woman who had the courage to finally say no," she points out, peering at her.
Louise brushes off her tears. "I'm not young anymore, Ma'am. And I certainly don't feel courageous, just stupid." Mrs Beckett doesn't interrupt her as she pours out her former life to her, from the time things got awfully wrong to the point she felt she had no choice at the time but to drown her pain into alcohol.
She sighs as she witnesses the sun peak over the tree line on the opposite hill.
"I know now it was stupid and I'm paying dearly for it but at the time, I felt I had no other choice. It dulled the pain and as paradoxical as it seems, it kept me alive. What I did not realize was it also dulled my judgment. All I thought of was how I longed for it. I would wake up in the morning and that would be the only thing that would keep me going throughout the day – the thought I would come home at night, kick off my shoes and fix me a drink. Then a second one as I prepared my dinner and another in front of the TV. I would never drink during the day if I went to work. I'd only do it on off-days, starting before noon, taking very small quantities throughout the day. I had that code that I had decided on that I wouldn't drink if I went to work or if I had to drive. I was quite proud of myself, actually, thinking I was responsible and all. How dumb I was! Fact is, within a month, I was a boozer, pure and simple."
Mrs Beckett tilts her head and gives her a gentle smile. "You did what you thought you had to do. You said it yourself. It kept you alive. I won't tell you you were right but I won't judge you either, my dear. God knows, hopefully I'll never have to live what you've been through. And if I had, I cannot honestly say I wouldn't have done worse than you."
Louise steps closer and kisses her cheek gently. "Thank you for being so understanding," she says, keeping the tears at bay. She's cried way too much recently and always hates herself for doing so.
"If I may, dearie. What finally made you come to your senses?" Louise looks healthy and strong. A far cry from the person she imagines had given in to such an addiction.
Louise laughs humorlessly. "I needed a push in the right direction. I did try to stop drinking countless times – to no avail. I would stay strong for a couple of days, elated I had seemingly succeeded through sheer willpower. It was just lies I told myself. See, the booze might cease to have any effect on your body after a few days but the memory of the pleasure it gives you will last within your mind for the rest of your life. I relapsed every single time until my body finally collapsed under the strain."
Mrs Beckett immediately grasps the meaning of it. "You ended up in the ER." It's not a question. Of course, she did. Ma's seen enough lives turned upside down by alcohol right here in her village and family. Most people are not as lucky as Louise and end up dead after a few years.
Louise nods. "I was saved by my condition, ironically enough. Booze and diabetes, they don't really get on well. There was so much my body could take. Besides, alcohol intoxicates your brain as well as your body. It impairs your judgment. Soon enough, I forgot to eat regularly and when I did, I lost count of the carbs I took. Only liquor felt fulfilling. One day, I got distracted and forgot to eat altogether though I had had my shots of insulin. You can imagine the rest." Mrs Beckett squeezes her hand gently. The memory is pure torture for Louise, she sees. "It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life – waking up in a hospital bed with an IV hooked to my arm and the glare of the doctor on call that day trained on me. She could have been the gentle, understanding type. Instead, she chose to be a bitch and gave me a talking to right away." Louise pouts then laughs. "It saved my life. She saved my life."
"You were lucky to even make it to the ER, dear," Mrs Beckett remarks, stunned by all she's just heard but mostly by Louise's sincerity.
"I was, yes. I was lucky I collapsed while taking out the trash. Had I stayed home alone that night, I might not have made it. I was on the verge of a coma when they rushed me to hospital. My temperature was dangerously low. The doctor told me it took them all night to raise it back to normal. Believe me, as much as I had wished I were dead those last few months, it was my wake up call."
"What happened then?"
"They fixed my blood sugar level and dehydration. With my consent, they enrolled me into rehab. I completed most of the steps and haven't drunk ever since though I must be honest with you – temptation will always lurk around the corner." She sighs. There. She's said it all. She hopes she hasn't plagued Mrs Beckett with all those negative thoughts. She tells her.
Ma laughs at the notion. "It would take much more to unsettle my good nature. I have seen worse in my lifetime, my dear, than a determined young woman like yourself changing her destiny for the better."
"I don't know about that, Ma'am. I'm pretty screwed up and I will stay that way." Louise looks wistfully towards the horizon. The sun is now high in the sky, the pinks and purples fading to give way to a clear, cloudless day.
"You mentioned you had not completed all the steps..." Mrs Beckett points out.
Louise bites her lower lip. "They wanted me to forgive myself. I could not. This was something I never allowed for. Guilt is part of me, as is my sense of compassion and my unwillingness to make concessions. This is who I am and how I was raised. It would have been a fat lie to say I did when I didn't. The program was what it was and in the end, they couldn't bend the rules to adjust them to my own quirky released me and wished me the best. They did give me some sound advice though. They said it was proven that people often relapsed when they found themselves back where they had started – in the same mentally unhealthy environment or simply when they returned to the routine of their lives and the same places where it had all begun. I took the advice and made the decision it was high time I had a change of scenery."
"Thus applying to be part of the expedition," Mrs Beckett adds logically.
Louise shakes her head and laughs. "No, thus applying for a Canadian visa. The expedition is yet another story."
"We should go back," Mrs Beckett says after a minute of comfortable silence. "Carson is going to get worried if we don't."
"Yeah. He's pretty protective and a worry wart," Louise banters.
His mother nods and smiles. "Always has, from the time he was a wee one. Not that I complain though. He's a good man."
Louise beams at her. "That he is! I do not know what we'd do without him."
Mrs Beckett hesitates then asks: "Do you consider my son as a friend, Ms Léger?"
"I do, yes," Louise replies without a trace of hesitancy. It's the first time she allows herself to say it out loud and she feels relieved she finally has.
"Well, then, dear... Aren't you ever going to tell him or your other friends on the expedition about all this?" She sees Louise blush, knowing of course it would only be fair. "You know, my dear, I'm not saying do it all at once or right now. I'm just saying start thinking hard about it. Friendship is earned with trust, not with half-truths or the concealment of it thereof. I know you want a second chance and I think you deserve it but your past is a part of you, whether you like it or not. You might be screwed up as you say but we all are. What we do with our mistakes and shortcomings is what makes us who we are in the end."
Louise nods her understanding and remains silent for the rest of the walk. She's always known that there's a fine line between what is right and what is easy. In the days that follow, they never talk about it again and when they leave to return to Cheyenne Mountain, their arms full of enough boxes of shortbread to feed all their friends, Mrs Beckett wraps her in her arms. "Godspeed, love, and be happy," she only whispers in her ear.
TBC