DISCLAIMER: I don't own Degrassi or anything else. If I did, Seasons 13 and 14 would have looked a WHOLE lot different. (Hopefully, more on that later.)
Almost nine years ago, I started writing this story, and almost four years ago, I uploaded the final chapter. Here is the epilogue, which I have been planning since my original outline. I know the VAST majority of you have moved on from Degrassi fandom, and I am so grateful to every single one of you who takes the time to read this.
Special thanks to Sara, my beta reader for the past decade+, whose encouragement and thoughtful criticism has been invaluable in every story, but especially this one. Lots of love to Cortney, Mallory and Kary - the Degrassians who I will travel far and wide to see (once it's safe!) Thanks to Chelsea and Alex whose stories still inspire me, even though they haven't written fic in a long time. There are SO many others who deserve to be called out by name, but I don't want to leave anyone out, so just know that if we are twitter mutuals or if I've ever been lucky enough to meet you, I appreciate you so much!
Everybody get vaccinated so we can throw a Degrassi fandom reunion one of these days.
I hope this isn't my last Degrassi fic. I have SO MANY in my head. So you should subscribe to author alerts just in case, because you never know when I will pop in again.
Chapter 25 - Epilogue
"I'm 26 and I still love you. But as far as the world goes, I still don't have a clue what it's for or what it's about. But until I find out, I'll just call it home." Home by K's Choice
"Looks like we're almost there," I said to Eli, glancing at the time remaining on Google Maps. We'd been driving for about 45 minutes into the suburbs and Eli hadn't said one word. I could see he was gripping the steering wheel more tightly than usual, and seemed to be sitting on the edge of his seat.
Although Eli being anxious had been a common sight in our past, for the last few months since we'd gotten back together, he'd been remarkably calm, relaxed and often joyful. I'd anticipated some growing pains with the stress of cohabitating for the first time while raising a baby, especially given the lack of sleep, but in truth, we'd been getting along great. We'd kept up our teasing banter without it ever going too far and we'd done a better job than ever of communicating our needs to each other. Eli had gone back to work in September, and I had started back on a part-time basis in October with plans to return to full-time status in March, and even the added stress of our jobs and daycare routines didn't throw us off our equilibrium. I knew that in some ways we were still basking in the honeymoon phase, but it made me feel positive about our ability to get through problems in the future.
We drove for another few minutes, when Eli abruptly pulled to the side of the backroad we were traveling on, despite the fact that the GPS hadn't announced we'd arrived at our destination. I glanced over my shoulder at Grace but as far as I could tell from the mirror we'd hooked onto the backseat, she was still napping soundly. She was still small enough to fit in her carrier car seat, although I was starting to have trouble carrying her out to the car on days I hadn't found a spot close to the condo.
"What's wrong?" I asked gently. I knew Eli didn't like it when I pushed him to talk about his feelings before he was ready, but something was clearly bothering him.
Eli rested his head against his hands still gripping the top of the steering wheel. "I don't think I can do this," Eli said.
"Eli!" I said, resisting the urge to chuckle. "We're going to see our best friend for the first time in years. You should be excited."
Eli shook his head. I stared at him, but his eyes were closed as if he were deliberately avoiding my gaze. "What's going on?"
Eli knew that I had texted Adam a few weeks ago. I'd tried the number he had in high school that was still programmed into my gmail account, but I had gotten a response from someone else that it was no longer Adam's number. Then I tried Audra, but the number had been disconnected so she must have gotten rid of her landline. As a last resort, I'd messaged Bianca on Facerange; we were still connected as "friends" though I hadn't talked to her since she went away for university. I'd almost given up hope when she hadn't responded after a day but finally, she sent along a phone number and told me that Adam was looking forward to hearing from me.
I had texted rather than calling since I knew Adam hated talking on the phone and I couldn't imagine that had changed. He had seemed happy to hear from me and we caught up on the major details. I told him that Eli and I were back together and that we'd had Grace a few months ago. He let me know he was living out in Schomberg with his girlfriend, Alicia, but he was commuting into Toronto to work as a social worker for Central Toronto Youth Services. And even though it probably would have been easier for us to meet up for dinner one night after work, he enthusiastically invited us out to their house.
I hadn't noticed that Eli was much less enthusiastic. But looking back, he had just confirmed that his schedule was clear today and that he didn't mind driving out there. Clearly, I was missing something.
"Eli?" I prompted again, when he still hadn't responded. "What's wrong?"
"What was the last thing you said to Adam?"
"We'll be there in 20 minutes?" I asked, realizing that he was probably expecting us any moment.
"No. Before…"
He didn't clarify but it wasn't too hard to figure out what he was asking. "I don't remember. 'Goodbye,' probably. It was a long time ago." The last time I had seen him was the summer after our first year of university. He and Drew threw a party when their mom was out of town. I didn't really end up talking to him much though. He was super drunk and Imogen and I were there with Fiona, who was visiting from New York, so we were steering clear of the kids who were drinking to oblivion.
Eli sighed. "The last thing I said to him was, 'Have a nice life.'"
"That was a long time ago," I insisted. He shrugged. "Adam wouldn't have invited us to his house if he didn't want to see us."
"I'm sure he wants to see you."
I bit my lip to try to keep my temper from rising. "Eli, if you're implying what I think you're implying…"
"I'm not," he insisted, meeting my eyes for the first time. "I just don't think I would forgive me...if I were him...if the roles were reversed."
I reached over and squeezed his hand. "I think we should just go talk to him and catch up and I'm sure everything will be civil. If it's too awkward, we don't have to stay forever."
Eli put the car back in drive and I could hear Grace stirring in the backseat. "We're almost there, baby girl," I cooed, feeling relieved when she babbled back to me rather than screaming. We'd tried to arrange the drive around her nap schedule and although this was a slightly shorter nap than she often took, it seemed to have worked out.
Eli still liked to tease me about my somewhat rigid sleep schedules, but he had to admit they were mostly working. Grade took after her night owl dad and usually protested at bedtime, crying to be able to stay awake for one more book or one more snuggle, so it could be challenging to get her to stay in the crib, but once she fell asleep, she slept around ten hours a night, though she often woke up around midnight for a feeding. Eli would get up to give her a bottle, and I would wake up early to get her ready for daycare and let Eli get a few extra minutes of sleep before he had to get to the school. Aside from bedtime, she was really an easy-going, good natured baby. I had heard so many horror stories of babies with colic or babies who never slept more than three hours at a time, and I knew we were very lucky.
When we pulled up in front of the house, we both marveled at the large, suburban house with a driveway big enough for six cars, although only two were parked in the driveway.
"Adam's doing well for himself," Eli said.
"I think it's his girlfriend's house." We'd kept our text communication brief, figuring that it would be faster to chat in person, so I didn't know all the details of his life out here. I unbuckled Grace from her car seat, figuring that she would be awake for a while and grabbed the bulging diaper bag from the floor under her seat.
Eli gestured for me to lead the way to the door, and I shifted Grace to my shoulder to ring the doorbell. She was giggling and I knew Eli was probably making faces at her behind me. I hoped that meant he was feeling a little more comfortable.
When Adam opened the door, I almost didn't recognize him. He hadn't grown in height, but his face and body had filled out considerably. He'd always had such a baby face in high school, but he looked more mature, even sporting a little bit of stubble on his chin. In high school, his hair had shifted in length from shaggy to short and back. Now it was short on the sides and the back but the front was longer and kind of spiked off to the side with gel. He looked fantastic and I couldn't help but grin.
"Hi Clare," he said warmly, leaning in to squeeze me into a long hug. As soon as we parted, he immediately reached out to tickle Grace's belly. "Hello, little one," he said with a smile. "God, I can't believe you guys have a baby."
"Neither can we, most of the time," Eli joked from behind me. I stepped out of the way and Eli and Adam locked gazes. "Hey, Adam," Eli said softly.
"Hey, Eli," Adam replied.
I wasn't sure why I had expected the two of them reuniting to be some kind of epic moment, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed as Adam half-shrugged and gave me a lopsided grin before gesturing for us to follow him into the house.
If we had been impressed with the house from the outside, it was nothing compared to how we felt once we stood in the imposing, two-story foyer that led to a grand staircase. Adam seemed to recognize the look of shock on our faces and clarified in a low voice. "The house belonged to Alicia's Dad. She grew up here. It's a very long story, but he's not in the picture anymore and her feelings toward this place are complicated. So please don't make a big deal of the house."
"Sure," said Eli, raising an eyebrow. He and I exchanged looks as we continued down a hallway, trailing Adam. Obviously, Adam's life in the past few years we'd missed out on had been just as complicated as our own situations.
We entered the living room to see a beautiful woman around our age whose face was framed with braids, setting a tray of veggies, dip, cheese and crackers down on the cocktail table in the living room. "Eli and Clare, this is Alicia."
She greeted each of us with a hug. "I've heard so much about you," she said kindly. "Can I get you something to drink? Water? Iced tea?"
"Iced tea would be great, thanks," I said. I took a seat on the couch and plopped Grace down on my lap. She was gazing around the room, drooling all over the bib that was a permanent fixture around her neck for the last month or so. She still hadn't cut any teeth but we were convinced that any day now it would happen.
"I'll take a beer if you have one," Eli offered.
Alicia gave Adam a pointed look. "Sorry, we don't but I think there's a bottle of Coke I can open," she said.
"Sure, Coke's great. Thanks," Eli said.
As Alicia left the room, I looked to Adam for an explanation. He sighed. "Didn't think I'd have to tell you I'm in recovery within the first ten minutes of seeing you, but I guess that's how this is going to go."
Eli and I exchanged surprised glances and I cringed when I recalled the bottle of wine we had stashed in the diaper bag as a gift. Adam hadn't been much of a drinker back when we were at Degrassi but I recalled seeing numerous party photos during university before he deleted his Hastygram account. "I'm sorry. I didn't know," Eli said.
"Yeah...I was in my Counseling Master's program and started to realize that some of the behaviors we were learning about were ones that were just a little too familiar." He paused as if he was wrestling with whether to continue, then added, "It was rough at first but I've been completely sober for more than a year, so that's a good sign."
"That's a great sign," I said diplomatically, as Alicia returned with our drinks. Grace looked up as I took a sip of my drink. "None for you yet," I teased, nuzzling her with my nose.
"Enough about my problems...I need to know the full story of how all of this happened," Adam gestured at the baby.
Eli laughed. "You really need an explanation? You see when a man and woman…"
"You can save your cisnormative jokes for someone else," Adam said, in a clearly friendly tone. "I want all the other details. When did you get back together? How did you end up pregnant? I don't see a ring on Clare's finger."
"I mean, I stopped wearing the purity ring back in high school," I laughed.
"That is not what I meant and you know it," Adam said.
"Hey, we're getting there," Eli insisted. "But it all started with a phone call from Cece…"
He launched into the story in typical, animated Eli fashion. Adam and Alicia's faces alternated between sympathy and hysterics as he recounted our reunion and subsequent hook up. I blushed as Eli glossed over the details of Grace's conception to his level of comfort but perhaps not quite to mine. Adam's groans brought me back to the three of us sitting outside Degrassi, eating lunch together, with him complaining about being a third wheel. But with Alicia sitting next to him on the arm of his chair, her arm draped over his shoulder, it didn't feel like he was left out. Whenever Adam paused to clarify some long lost detail of our high school experience, her eyes lit up as she watched him. It was clear whatever struggles Adam had gone through or was continuing to experience, that he had finally found someone who loved him the way he'd always wanted.
But my mind kept rewinding back to Eli's words that had started his long meandering story…"We're getting there." Although we'd been living in his condo and raising Grace together for nearly four months now, we hadn't really broached the subject of marriage. We were extraordinarily happy together; there was every bit of romance that two very tired people could want and the sex was frankly mind-blowing. Most importantly, I finally believed that he wasn't going anywhere. But I hadn't realized that he was even in the very beginning stages of considering proposing. A few months ago that idea would have sent me running for the hills.
Now...the very thought warmed my heart.
"Enough about us, what have you been up to all these years?" Eli asked. "How did you two meet?"
Adam and Alicia smiled at each other. "Man...so much has happened. Let's see. I graduated from uOttawa and realized that there are basically no jobs for people with a Bachelor's in Psychology. Moved back in with Audra and Omar which I would definitely not recommend. Especially since Drew got this hotshot sales job right after graduation where he charms the pants off people and they give him all their money. So I wasn't looking too good in comparison. Fortunately, I managed to get into a Counseling master's program at U of T and got a job as a Trans Youth Support Group Leader for Central Toronto Youth Services."
"Wow, that's amazing," I said, impressed.
He grinned. "I went into it with the noble goal of creating a safe and welcoming space for trans teenagers and it ended up getting me laid."
Alicia whacked his shoulder, while Eli asked dryly, "I hope not by the teenagers."
"Of course not," Alicia insisted. "But I signed up my sister for his support group. She was at the very beginning of transitioning and we're not exactly in a progressive, supportive community out here, so I wanted to find her a place where she would feel comfortable. And every time she came home, she would go on and on about how amazing her group leader Adam is and how great his advice is and how funny he is. And after hearing her talk about him, I set up a family member support appointment just so I could go in and thank him."
"And then we discovered I too have the Torres pants-charming ability," Adam joked.
Alicia rolled her eyes at him. "And then I asked him out, and he said no."
"You said no...to her?" Eli asked incredulously. I gave him the slightest glare out of the corner of my eye. I wasn't surprised he had noticed how beautiful Alicia was but he didn't have to confirm that to all of us.
"I was her sister's counselor. I have ethics, you know."
"Luckily, Tatiana went into his office and yelled at him for turning down her sister after all the hard work she had put into trying to get us together."
Adam laughed. "I agreed to one date. By the end of the night I was texting my supervisor to ask them for a meeting because I knew she was the one." Alicia leaned down and kissed him, and Eli and I shared a smile. "Luckily, they were on board with us dating and with Tatiana remaining in my group as long as her solo appointments were with my supervisor."
Grace let out a loud wail. Adam looked taken aback. "It's okay, baby. We're all very happy even if we're stuck living out in the suburbs."
I laughed, as I heaved Grace up to my shoulder and rubbed her back to attempt to calm her down. "I think she's hungry. Is there a good place for me to feed her?" I had gotten a little more comfortable breastfeeding in front of my mom or Meghan but I figured it might be a little awkward to whip out a boob in front of Adam after 8 year apart.
Alicia jumped up. "My office has a comfortable chair in it. Let me show you." She led me down a hall as I heard Adam explain to Eli that they were planning to sell the house in two more years once Tatiana had graduated from high school.
She gestured to an armchair and I expected that she would return to the living room, but she plopped down in her desk chair and turned to her computer. "I hope it's okay if I stay. I wanted to give the boys a few minutes to talk by themselves."
"Sure, it's no problem," I said. She scrolled through her email silently as I got Grace into position and she latched on. I wasn't sure if Alicia wanted to make conversation with a total stranger, but I felt like there were some things I needed clarification on that I wasn't sure I could ask Adam directly.
"Sooo…," I began, and I could see the corner of her mouth turn up in a small smile, as if she knew I was going to use this time to grill her. "How is Adam really?"
I could see her shoulders rise and fall as she sighed. "He's good now. He really is. He's sober and he loves his job and he's the best almost-step-parent a teenage trans girl could ask for."
"He said he's been sober for a year? How long have you been together?"
"Two years," Alicia said. "He was in the process of getting sober when I met him, and he's had a few setbacks but he's in a much better place now. He hasn't had a drink since he moved out here, mostly for himself and I know he wants to set a good example for Tatiana. As for the drugs, he'd already gotten clean before I met him and he hasn't slipped up once. So I'm hopeful this will last, but you know...one day at a time."
"Oh," I said softly. I knew I was naive but I hadn't even thought that Adam having a drug problem was even a possibility.
She turned and met my gaze. "I think he got in a little over his head in university. Between the drinking and the hormones and being out from under Audra Torres's thumb...it was a lot. And from what he's told me, he never really found that group of friends that he had in high school. Instead of having a small group of really close friends, he had a large group of very superficial friends. And they weren't necessarily the best kind of friends."
I felt my eyes stinging with tears. "I wish I had done a better job of staying in touch." If I were being honest, I might have only talked to him four times in our first year at university. I don't think I ever reached out beyond a Happy Birthday post on Facerange after that.
"You know, up until a few weeks ago, I had only had this vague idea of who you and Eli were. Every now and then, he would share a funny anecdote or he'd mention that he had seen a movie we were watching with one of you. But after you texted, Adam told me a lot more about all three of you and what had happened between you. I can promise you that it wasn't all your fault that you lost touch. He went to university looking to reinvent himself and he pulled away from everyone he cared about - even his mom...even Drew. It was a shit show of his own making and a few texts from back in Toronto would not have changed anything."
"But I could have…" I started but Alicia shook her head gently.
"The best thing you can do is get to know him now and be his friend now. Because he wasn't ready for that then, but he is now. And I know that would really mean a lot to him. He was so happy when you reached out to him."
"Are you a therapist too?" I asked, realizing that in our anxiousness to get caught up on each others' lives, we hadn't learned nearly enough about Alicia.
She laughed. "I'm a CPA. I'd rather deal with numbers over feeling any day." She glanced toward the door wistfully. "But I love that man more than anything."
"I can tell," I said. "And I'm so happy for both of you."
Alicia beamed and excused herself to go pick up her sister from her Drama Club rehearsal. When Grace finished, I picked her up and walked back to the living room. Adam and Eli were sitting on the couch next to each other, and both of them had tears running down their faces. They both leaned in for the longest, tightest hug, and I hung back to watch them, hoping that I'd be able to keep myself from crying along with them. Grace let out a happy shriek and the boys separated, wiping at their eyes and laughing a little.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
Adam grinned. "Everything is finally okay." My heart panged with relief.
Wanting to break up the heavy moment, I deposited Grace on Eli's lap. "Time for a diaper change, Daddy." Eli made a face, but reached for the diaper bag and rolled out the changing pad on the floor in front of him.
Adam laughed. "I think that's my cue to exit. Clare, would you like more iced tea?"
"Sure." I picked up my glass and followed him into the kitchen. He stuck his head into the refrigerator to grab the bottle while I glanced around at the still impressive house. "Alicia said you've been kind of a stepparent to her sister."
Adam reached for my glass and started to pour. "I don't know that I'd go that far. Alicia got custody of Tatiana after her father died. It was like three months after we started dating and it was rough on both of them." He gave me a significant look to tell me there was a lot more to this story than the paraphrase I was getting now, but I didn't want to pry. "She's younger than us, only 24 now so becoming a parent to a teenager wasn't exactly in her plans either. I just do my best to help them out."
"Well, Alicia made it seem like a lot more than that. I can tell she's head over heels for you." He shrugged, almost as if it were hard for him to believe that a girl as amazing as Alicia would want to be with a guy like him, even after two years together.
Adam poured himself a glass of water and I could see him moving back toward the kitchen door. But there was one thing I wanted to bring up with him and I wasn't sure I had the guts to do it in front of Eli. "Adam," I said softly. He turned back to look at me. "About prom…" I began.
"We don't have to…"
"I didn't know…" I trailed off. I didn't want to put words in his mouth. He might have told Eli he was in love with me but he had never even hinted that he had feelings for me.
His eyes met mine. "Yeah I kind of figured that out when I came over the next day to ask you on a date and you asked me if I thought Eli was coming home for our graduation."
Oof. I hadn't remembered saying that to him. "I'm really sorry."
He laughed. "It's ancient history, Clare."
"I just wish..."
He walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "There's nothing we can do to change what happened. I'm just happy to have my best friends back."
"Oh, Adam," I said, and threw my arms around him in another hug.
"Yep, can't wait to be the third wheel again," he joked. "And with a baby this time around!"
"Well, hopefully Alicia will enjoy our particular brand of weirdness so you won't be the third wheel."
"I dunno," he said. "She might be too cool to be a misfit like the rest of us."
I grinned. "Do you mean Grace? Yeah, she's a regular pink-wearing cheerleader, I can tell already."
"You rang?" Eli said as he joined us, with a freshly diapered Grace on his hip.
Adam reached over and took Grace from Eli, sitting her on the counter while he held onto her waist. "Gracie baby, do you have any idea how many embarrassing stories I have to tell you about your parents?" He grinned at us. "I know you told me she's named after Darcy, and I swear I'm not offended, but you know you're going to have to name the next one Adam to make this up to me, right?"
"The next one?!" Eli poked at my stomach and I slapped his fingers away.
"No babies in here," I warned.
"Adam probably has a guest room, right? We could always try."
Adam groaned and I grimaced. "I see that basically nothing has changed since high school." He leaned down toward Grace again and grinned. "Your daddy's still a horndog. Can you say horndog?"
Eli wrapped his arm around me as Adam continued to tease us. Grace's eyes lit up as she giggled at every word he said.
When my phone rang and I saw it was my mother, I panicked a little. It wasn't like her to call me on a Wednesday at 3 PM when she knew I'd be at work. She preferred to save her calls for weekends or evenings when we could video chat over Facetime and she would oooh and awww over Grace while she invited us over for dinner or asked us about pediatrician's appointments.
When I picked up, and she sounded breathless and frantic, the fear only intensified. "Clare," she gasped. "I need to come home right now."
"What's wrong?" I asked, already grabbing for my purse and fumbling with my laptop charger in case I wouldn't be able to come into work tomorrow. "Are you okay? Is it Glenn?"
"There's a box on the front porch," she said. "It's pretty large and very heavy."
I let out a sigh of relief. "Do we need to call the bomb squad?" I asked, already feeling calm enough to joke about my mother's never-ending drama.
"It's from Kenya."
My heart stopped. "Wait, what?"
"It's from Kenya and it doesn't look like it was sent through the mail. There's no postage on it. But the return address is for Kitui, Kenya. That's where Darcy was."
"Did you open it?" I shoved my laptop into my messenger bag and started walking out to tell Angela I was leaving. I didn't have any more meetings today and the editing I had left for this afternoon could wait until the morning.
"It's addressed to Miss Clare Edwards." I could almost hear my mother's fuming expression at having to wait to open this mysterious box so as not to commit mail fraud.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," I said and hung up the phone. After a brief conversation with Angela, who I found considerably less annoying once I'd had a baby and didn't want to work 80 hour weeks to get all of my tasks done, I sprinted toward the elevator. I had taken public transit to work that morning so I ordered an Uber and called Eli while I waited. Even though I typically picked her up on Thursdays, he agreed to get Grace from daycare and that he'd bring her back to the condo instead of joining us so Mom and I wouldn't be interrupted. I could tell he was just as intrigued as I was about the box, but I was glad he had offered to give us space. It was hard for me to think of Darcy and Eli at the same time; there were from such different worlds and times of my life.
I couldn't believe that it had been almost a year since Darcy's death. I knew my mother had received a box of her belongings at the time her body was shipped back to Toronto for burial. It contained clothes and a few photos and jewelry, but not much else. I had no idea what to expect from this.
When I arrived at my mom's house, she had moved the box inside to the coffee table and was sitting on the couch staring at it as if she could see through the brown cardboard if she tried hard enough. The box was larger than I had expected and though I saw it had no postage, it had definitely gotten a little beat up in transit.
Mom handed me a pair of scissors to cut through the tape, but I pulled out my phone first to take a picture of the return address, in case we needed to get in touch with someone.
I carefully cut the package open to reveal a pile of notebooks. There was one fancy journal that I vaguely remembered Darcy receiving as a birthday present during the last birthday celebration we had before her trip. A few of them were the black and white marble notebooks that we used for spelling homework back in elementary school. Most of them were small blue notebooks that said school exercise on the cover that were similar to the ones we used for in class exams in university. They only had about sixty pages in them and I could see there were probably hundreds of them in this box. Each one was dated in Darcy's bubbly handwriting.
I pulled the top one off the pile and opened it with a gasp. "They're diaries." I ran my finger over my sister's words, tears welling up in my eyes.
The one I picked up was dated from three years ago and the one below it was the previous month. I gently lifted the pile and saw a few from the first year Darcy had gone to Kenya. "She must have kept diaries from the past few years."
My mom was hanging back a little, clearly in shock. "There's an envelope," she said, pointing to the corner of the box.
I gently set the pile of journals back in the box and slid the envelope out of the box. The outside of the envelope had my name written on it in capital letters.
Dear Clare,
I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to send these notebooks to you. When Darcy got sick, she insisted that I needed to send them to you, so you could understand what she had gone through. I assured her that there would be no need for that, as she would get better and could travel to Canada to tell you for herself. But after she died, this felt like all I had left of her. I sent her clothes and her personal possessions to the terrible mission group she had started out with since they were willing and financially able to handle the transport of her casket. But I couldn't bear to give them her words. I read every journal, sometimes several times, just so I could hear her voice again.
But it has been a year since her death and though these words are still a comfort to me, I need to honor her last wish and send these on to you. I do not trust our postal system with such an important treasure. Fortunately, my sister is moving to Toronto to matriculate in a master's program in Public Health and she has agreed to make this delivery. I will include her email address and phone number in case you have questions; Subiya knew Darcy well.
Robert Karanja
PS. Darcy asked that you not allow your mother or father to read her notebooks. She asked you to summarize on her behalf.
"Who's Robert Karanja?" I asked and my mother shook her head.
"I'm not sure."
We stared at the large box, a little overwhelmed. "Should we call Dad?" I asked.
Mom bristled. "You can call him later to catch him up. I don't want to wait any longer."
So I started reading. My instinct that her story started in the fancy journal seemed to pay off as her first entry was written on the plane over to Kenya. Mom started sorting through the other journals to organize them based on the dates scrawled on the front covers and I read about Darcy's culture shock, about the mission work she embarked on and the rare glimpse into her mental state as she worked through the events of the previous year. A lot of what I read was familiar, as it was from early on in her travels, when we still received regular letters and emails keeping us apprised of her experience. I kept my mother informed as I went, occasionally reading a paragraph out loud verbatim but usually summarizing Darcy's sometimes rambling prose. I started skimming a little, knowing I would go back and reread every volume in greater detail.
It wasn't until about a year into her mission work, after my parents had announced they were getting divorced that I started to see a difference in her writing. Instead of simply recounting places she'd visited and building projects, her journals started to get a lot more introspective. It was clear that she had been gone long enough that she was starting to have trouble relating to what life was back at home especially since so much had changed here. She was upset about the divorce and wondered if she were to blame. I wished I could go back in time to reassure her that our parents' issues were solely their own - my father's infidelity, my mother's coldness - and that her absence hadn't caused or exacerbated any of their problems.
It was maybe a year after that when she finally mentioned a guy named Robert. He lived in the village where Darcy's organization was planning to build a school for girls and he seemed to absolutely antagonize her. He kept telling her that their group had no right to build the school and she thought he was a sexist pig. She described their arguments in great detail, and I couldn't help but feel like I was reading one of the old hate to love Fortnight fanfics I once devoured back in high school. Sure enough, when she finally stopped to listen to him, she had to admit that he was right. The reason girls weren't attending school had less to do with access to a building, and everything to do with local access to fresh water. They were spending hours each day carrying heavy containers of water to their homes. Education was important to the people who lived in his village, but survival had to be their first priority.
I don't know if it was Robert's influence or the fact that she had lived in Kenya for three years at this point, but it was clear Darcy's attitudes toward her missionary work and the Kenyan people were changing. She often criticized the decisions made by the organization she was working for and their lack of connection with the people they claimed to help. Although her earlier journals had contained lists of Swahili words and definitions, she was now including words throughout her journal entries, clearly becoming more fluent. She mentioned Robert tutoring her in Kikamba, the local language, and it was clear that these lessons were bringing them much closer together. A breathless entry describing their first kiss brought tears to my eyes.
Darcy's diary entries became a little more sporadic not long after, and I was struggling to put together exactly what was going on in her life. Frustrated, my mother went to the kitchen to make sandwiches for dinner. When she returned, she picked up the box that had contained the journals and moved it off the end table so she could set down my plate. I saw her peering curiously into the box which had a layer of newspaper lining the bottom. "What are you looking at?"
"It's too heavy to be empty. There's something else in here," she said, lifting up the newspaper. She pulled out a black binder and held it out to me.
"Oh my God," I gasped, recognizing it at once. "It's a story I sent to Darcy back when I was in university. I wasn't even sure if she had ever gotten it." But not only had she received it, she had kept it all these years.
I flipped through the pages, realizing that Darcy had written some notes in the margins. There were lots of exclamation points, so even though I didn't slow down long enough to read every word, it was clear her response was very positive. With a side glance at my mom, who was being uncharacteristically quiet, I flipped to the pages containing the sex scene I had added in just before sending it to Darcy. She had drawn a cartoonish face with its eyes bugging out. It seemed like a friendly, if shocked face, but it was a little hard to interpret what she meant by that. I turned to the end and was disappointed to see that there weren't any summative comments on the last page. But when I moved to drop the binder back into the box, an envelope slid out from the binder's back pocket. It was formally addressed to me at my old apartment's address, but not postmarked, and it looked like it had been crinkled up a few times as if she had debated whether to send it. I delicately slid my finger under the envelope flap so I could read it.
Dear Clare,
It's really easy for me to remember that I'm not the 17 year old girl who left on a plane from Toronto-Pearson Airport all those years ago. But even with your letters and phone calls, I haven't quite updated the image I have of you in my head from the little 14 year old who wore her private school uniform to her first day at Degrassi. Part of me can't believe that you can write something like this, so powerful and beautiful and experienced, because let me tell you...I can tell you've had sex. And good sex too, because otherwise there's no way you could have captured those emotions on a page.
And the reason that I know that is because I've had sex too. Not what happened to me on that ski trip and not that mistake I made with Peter when I was trying to do anything I could to cope. I've had sex with a man who loves me more than anything in the world, my husband Robert.
I stopped reading and looked at my mother with wide eyes. "Darcy was married?!"
Her shocked eyes mirrored mine. "She, what? Give me that." She tried to rip the letter out of my hand but I managed to pull it away.
"This was.." I tried to do the math in my head. "Seven years ago? She was married for six years before she died and we're just hearing about it now?!"
Mom covered her face with her hands. "How is that possible?"
I kept reading the letter, aloud this time, hoping to figure out what had happened.
We've been married for almost a year and I've been struggling with such conflicting emotions. I am so happy, happier than I've ever been at any point in my life. But I feel so immensely guilty that I got married without my parents and without you, Clare. For ages, Robert has been asking me to be honest with you. He's asked me to plan a visit to Toronto so that he can meet you. But every time I sit down to look at the money it would take to fly us there, I think of the children down the street whose feet are growing out of their shoes or the grandmother who lost her job and can't pay for food. And the longer I go without telling you the truth, the worse I feel. I hate lying to you but I can't bring myself to tell you the truth.
I keep using money as an excuse, though I am sure that if I asked to come back to Toronto, Mom or Dad would have plane tickets ordered before I could finish the sentence. And knowing that makes me feel even worse. Because the reason I hesitate to return is that I don't know what it's like in Toronto anymore. I can't imagine coming to a house with a new stepfather and stepbrother. I can't picture Dad with a girlfriend. I remember how proud you all were of me when I went off on my mission trip but I don't know if you'd understand why I quit working with Christian World Charities and have started doing relief work with Robert and his fellow community organizers. I'm scared you won't like the woman I've become, that you'll think I've lost my faith even though it's stronger than ever. I know the Edwards judgment gene is strong - it's taken me years to overcome mine and it can still be a struggle - but I'm afraid to face you and Mom and Dad and find out that you'll never forgive me, for leaving...for lying to you all these years.
There's a part of me that still equates Toronto with pain. And the good parts I do remember just feel completely different now. I'm sure I'll come back someday but for now...this is my home.
I hope you can forgive me,
Darcy
Tears were streaming down my mother's face. "This is all my fault," she sniffled. "I never should have let her go away. Married for seven years to a man I don't even know."
I just kept thinking of all the times she had sworn she was planning to come home for Christmas or in the summer to get out of the heat, and how not only had those promises never materialized but had all but vanished by the time I was in university. I thought back to all those crackly phone conversations. I knew she enjoyed living in Kenya and doing missionary work but I hadn't known how deeply affected personally she was by the people she lived with and helped.
And I certainly hadn't understood how traumatized she was before she left. I had known the facts about what had happened to her, but I was so young and so naïve, it was easy to believe her sadness was temporary. Once she'd moved away, my parents had never spoken of it again, choosing to reminisce about only our fondest memories. But reading through the diaries, hearing her own words told me how deeply hurt she continued to be by her experience back in Toronto. Even early on, there were entries describing how she could never forgive herself for all of the "sins" she'd committed, singling out her treatment of a girl named Mia, who I gathered was a teen mom, and her false accusation of Mr. Simpson, who had only attempted to help her. In fact, she mentioned receiving a letter from me, inviting her to attend my high school graduation and the very thought of seeing Mr. Simpson there led her to having a panic attack.
It took her a long time to find peace and it seemed like the way she'd managed to do it was to immerse herself in her life in Kenya, pull away from anyone who reminded her of her past and reinvent herself completely. But the very thing that helped her the most had led us to lose her, years before her death.
"It sounds like she was happy there," I said, wiping away tears of my own. "And it wasn't your fault she was unhappy here."
And it wasn't just Darcy's fault that we'd slipped out of touch. As she had pulled away, afraid we would hate her for not including us in her new life, we'd let her do it. I'd been so frustrated by her lack of response that I hadn't reached out either. I know Mom had tried harder, and longer than I had, but I doubted Dad had sent her more than a handful of emails after the divorce. He'd barely done a good job of keeping in touch with me and I lived a few neighborhoods away from him. If we'd been keeping up our end of the relationship, she wouldn't have been able to hide a marriage from us for all those years.
Mom handed me the journal I'd put down once she found the binder. "Keep reading. I'm going to make us a stiff drink."
I stayed up most of the night reading, pausing only to have a Facetime bedtime call with Grace. Eli was immensely curious about the diaries but told me he'd wait until I'd made it through the rest of them to grill me on the details. Mom and I started drawing out a timeline of events, trying to piece together Darcy's story. We managed to wait until 9 am before we called Robert's sister, Subiya, who agreed to come over to the condo for dinner on Saturday night in order to help us learn more about Darcy's relationship with Robert.
Subiya confirmed most of what we'd gathered from the diaries: that Darcy and Robert had married, that they didn't have any children though they'd discussed is as a possibility for the future, that Darcy had quit working for the Christian Charity organization because Robert had over time convinced her that the organization, while theoretically well-intentioned often did more harm than good and didn't work well with local leaders who knew the needs of the communities best.
Subiya was personally grateful to Darcy for helping her enroll in a school where she received an excellent education, although she suspected Darcy partly did it to irritate Robert, since she had been unsuccessful in convincing him to go back and complete his education after he'd dropped out of high school to work. We had known Darcy had gotten her GED through correspondence course, and Subiya said she was interested in attending university but knew Robert wouldn't want to leave his village for the length of time it would take her to complete a degree. She emphasized though that Robert had suggested several times that they travel to Toronto and it was always Darcy who would come up with another excuse. Darcy had passed away before Subiya had applied to U of T but she knew Darcy would be proud of her.
The only thing Subiya wasn't really able to clarify for us was why she had gone to such lengths to keep her marriage a secret from us. She'd been pretty young when Darcy and Robert had started dating and then spent the better part of their marriage away at boarding school and then university. They were close in the sense that they had great affection for each other, but she wasn't privy to Darcy's innermost thoughts. In fact, she'd been surprised to learn that we were unaware of their marriage, as Robert had only told her when he begged her to bring the box on her flight to Toronto and drop it off to us. She wasn't sure how we would react, which is why she left it on the porch on a sunny day, rather than ringing the bell.
Since we had taken the news fairly well, she offered to schedule a video call with Robert at a later date, since it was already nearly three in the morning in Kenya.
My Mom had been quiet through most of the dinner, as Eli and I peppered Subiya with questions and Glenn had contributed the occasional pleasantry, while bouncing Gracie in his lap. So I was pleased and somewhat astonished when she finally said, "Well, Subiya, since you were Darcy's family for all of those years, please know that you're now part of our family over here. I know you're a long way from home, but if there's anything we can do for you, please let us know. And Robert too, if he ever wants to visit. He'll be very welcome in our home. We'd love to meet him."
"Cheers," Eli agreed, holding up his drink.
"He'd like that too," Subiya said, clinking her glass against ours. "He's been a little lost since Darcy died. I think he'll be relieved to finally unite our family and yours."
I think we'd all been a little lost since Darcy's death. But after reading her journals and speaking with Subiya, I finally felt a little bit at peace.
Halfway through the third stanza of the service's third hymn, Pastor Daniels gestured for us to join him at the altar. I cringed, waving to let him know we weren't ready, but he gestured more insistently, so we joined him as we'd practiced. I cast a glance to the doors at the back of the church, but unfortunately, they remained firmly shut.
Pastor Daniels looked us over before he removed the shiny gold lid from the baptismal font. Though he had already given his sermon, he started to give a speech that I knew was not from the common liturgy and I was grateful that he was willing to improvise to make sure we were all there and ready. Eli squeezed my hand for a second before needing both of his to wrangle a very squirmy baby.
As the speech continued, I glanced over to the first few pews, which were filled with our family and friends. Mom and Glenn sat along the aisle, with Jake whispering conspiratorially with Devin next to them. Dad and Irene were in the same pew, though they'd squished themselves into the far corner to put as much distance between them and Devin as possible. Irene's kids were away at university, though I assumed they would have come up with some excuse to miss this even if they were in the Greater Toronto Area. Cece and Bullfrog sat behind them with Bullfrog wearing a yarmulke for probably the first time since his Bar Mitzvah. He didn't have much hair left to pin it to and Cece elbowed him as he fidgeted with it for the umpteenth time.
Next to them were Alli and Jenna, who both had astonished me by RSVPing yes to the invitation. It had been about two years since I'd last seen Alli, but she wasn't doing any active lab work this semester since she was on sabbatical so she was able to make the trip. She was spending her days compiling final reports on the cancer drug research she'd been working on for the past three years but figured it was time to stop in to see not only Eli and me, but her parents and Sav and her new nephew as well. She'd brought with her a boyfriend who I'd heard a lot about through our recently instituted weekly phone calls. His name was Mike Dallas and he played hockey for the Boston Bruins; he traveled a lot, but she was so busy that they figured out a schedule that worked for them. Jenna was still happily single though she'd been bugging Eli to set her up with one of his single teacher friends she had met at a game night we had thrown a while ago. We didn't see her often, but it was always nice to catch up when we did.
To their right was Subiya - and Robert! We had finally convinced him to fly out to Toronto for Subiya's graduation which happened to be the week before the christening. He'd been nervous about coming to meet us after all this time, but Subiya had talked him into it. He'd been staying at her apartment for about a month now and I could tell he was itching to return to Kenya, but every time we got together with him we were completely charmed by him. He was funny and kind and lit up the room and I could see how Darcy had fallen in love with him. He was only going to be here for a few more weeks, but Subiya had decided to stay on for a PhD so we knew there was a good chance he'd return. Eli and I had promised that we would visit Robert in Kenya though I was unsure how soon we'd be able to make it over there.
Subiya and I had grown to be very close. She had been super receptive when I would call her to ask for cultural and language clarifications as I reread Darcy's diaries over and over, and she would often return my calls to ask if her professor's behavior would be considered normal in Canadian academic circles - we quickly agreed that he had pushed the bounds of eccentric to something more resembling psychotic. Soon we were meeting up for lunch and coffee where I'd regale her with tales of Grace's latest milestones and she would recount her misadventures on dating apps and recommend adult literary fiction books to me that sounded amazing but I knew I'd never get to. A few months ago, she had suggested that we write a book together based on Darcy's diaries, that would largely work as a biography of Darcy and Robert's love story, but that would also critique the western Christian missionary movement as well as call attention to the mutual aid work being done by African led organizations. We were still at the beginning stages of planning and writing but we were both committed to seeing the project through. Although I still contributed articles at work in addition to my editing, it felt great to be writing in a more creative manner than my book round ups and author interview pieces.
Of course there were a few important people missing. Granny Edwards hadn't been well enough to make the trip since her hip replacement two months ago but we were planning to visit her out in Hamilton in the next month. Fiona was in Milan and couldn't make it back. Christine from work was away on vacation, though I could see Angela and Nicole were both sitting in a back pew. A few of Eli's teacher friends had sent over a nice present, though I understood why they wouldn't want to give up a precious Sunday morning to attend even for a close work friend.
Pastor Daniels exchanged a look with me and I could tell even he was having trouble improvising at this point. I could see some of the people in the church were getting a little restless. Fortunately, the doors at the back of the nave burst open, and I could see a flash of purple taffeta running full speed down the aisle.
"Mommy, Daddy, Mommy, Daddy!" Grace called loudly. "I pooped in the potty!"
The entire congregation burst into laughter as Grace ran up to meet us near the altar. I grabbed her hand to keep her next to me. A winded, very pregnant Meghan mouthed the words, "I'm sorry," to me as walked more slowly down the aisle and squeezed in to sit next to Jake and Devin.
"And with that," Pastor Daniels said with a twinkle in his eye. "We begin this ritual of baptism."
Eli stepped forward and handed Gabe, our two month old baby, over to Adam, who held him as Pastor Daniels recited the long list of calls and responses to the entire congregation, to me, and then to Adam and Alicia as godparents. Eli watched silently, a small smirk on his face, just as he had a little less than three years ago, when we had baptized Grace, with Jake and Meghan serving as her godparents.. We had compromised a year after that and held our wedding in a park rather than a church so it was in a place where we both felt comfortable. Pastor Daniels had attended as our guest and led us in a short prayer at the reception.
"Gabriel Adam, I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen," said Pastor Daniels.
Grace tugged on my hand, possibly a little jealous of the attention her baby brother was getting. I picked her up and planted a kiss on her cheek. She rested her head on my shoulder and squeezed her arms around me.
As the last few words of the ritual were spoken, Eli stepped closer to me. He pulled Adam's arm to get him to move toward us and Alicia, who was holding one of Gabe's tiny hands snuggled in as well. We posed for my tear-streaked mother, who had snuck into the aisle holding up her phone for a picture: four best friends, two adorable children, and a lifetime of happiness ahead of us.