Chapter One, Episode 126 - A Dream in Passing - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
There was more revision than I expected for this short episode. Almost an aside, these two youngest characters in Situationally Theirs were paired, if only for a brief moment in this story. Revision involved adjusting sentence structure and adding detail the scenes.

 A Dream in Passing

Before the schools closed, they could see each other almost every day. They would brush by each other in the hall at recess or glance secretly at each other in the cafeteria. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, auburn hair and green eyes. From behind his locker door outside his classroom, Joey would look for her in the noisy maze of students filling the hall.

One year later, they were to pass by each other again in the bright sunshine. Joey Tucker, coming home from his cleaning job at the Beaufort mansion, recognized her from a distance. She rode her red bicycle with the basket on front, yellow daisies decorating the rim. Slowing, he stopped as she passed. turning to watch her ride. Straight back, beautiful auburn hair shining and drifting in the sun, she sang as she rode. Curiously, Joey saw her take the fork in the road that went to the Richardson’s home. He resumed his ride home into Hartley, quaverings in his midsection at seeing this girl whose name he didn’t know.

~~~~~

Her interest in the boys in her class had waned. She had dated one or two of them, but only once or twice and had been very disappointed. All good looks and not a thought in their heads, except…….well, she would only tell her journal - the one she kept hidden from her mother. 

This year of the Covid19 virus was a relief for Tanya Meadows. She didn’t have to deal with such immaturity. She could stay home with her books or visit over video chat with her girlfriends. Excited to be out and away for the day, Tanya was her way to the Richardsons to babysit. On that day, on her way out to look after Ben and Abby, she saw him riding towards her. In a blushing warmth of recognition, she recognized him from school. A boy in a different grade at their high school. She had watched him, but because he was younger than her by at least two years, had refused any opportunity to talk to him. Shoulder's squared and head held high, she began to sing as they passed by each other. A butterfly flutter went through her. She didn’t even know his name.

“Among my stillness was a pounding heart.”

~ Shannon A. Thompson, Seconds Before Sunrise

Chapter One - Episode 125 - Out From Under - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Lots of revision in this episode. Keeping the intent of this episode, I had added quite a bit of detail throughout the episode. Improvements in character description and scene setting,

Out from Under

It is a common maxim that we should leave our home life at home when we enter our places of employment. While that does sound like it should be easy - just shut a mental door and leave it closed until quitting time - it is not quite that simple. This does take years of practice, and is not necessarily very successful, especially with the technology that is so ubiquitous today. 

~~~~~

An email pinged through on Brigitte Smithson’s cell phone, distracting her from what was being said. She frowned at what she read.“Hello Brigitte. I have an issue I’d like to discuss with you. It’s really a small matter, but pretty important.” Quickly skimming the email from her neighbour with increasing curiosity and some anxiety, she began to worry. What have I done wrong? Reviewing the last couple of days in her mind, there was only the normal chaos of moving in and setting up her few pieces of furniture. Was I too noisy? I set up my speakers so they faced away from the other side of the duplex. She hadn’t heard anything from her neighbour, until now. Brigitte was letting her worries interfere with her attention to the business meeting she and Miss Em were attending with Gerald Winston, the Beaufort Estate accountant. 

Mr. Winston, a very ordinary man, had a scruffy ring of graying hair that needed a trim and wore gold rimmed glasses. Everything about him seemed round, from his shiny pate, rounded shoulders and thick fingers to his rolling gait as he greeted his client and her assistant. Dressed in an open necked shirt, he had his shirt sleeves loosely rolled up to his elbows. His desk was tidy, but stacked with file folders, pencils, pens, and two staplers. A few business cards, tucked in a little plastic card holder, almost seemed an afterthought. Pandemic restrictions eased, he was glad to be open again, even if he kept his hours limited. His office, closed for quite sometime, except for telephone interviews or video chat consultations, was finally open for the face-to-face consultations he preferred. 

Brigitte leaned over to her employer, Emelina Beaufort. “I’m sorry Miss Em. Did I miss anything? My mind wandered to a personal worry.” Patting her hand, Emelina replied in a stage whisper, “I hope everything is all right? No, you didn’t miss anything. Mr. Winston has just gone to get some other paperwork.” Sounding less than confident, Brigitte said “Everything is just fine, I think.”

Mr. Winston returned. “Let me begin by saying, Mrs. Beaufort, I am so sorry for your loss. I am pleased to meet you and understand that you have questions for me. In the past, I frequently spoke with your husband and occasionally with Mr. Digby.” The accountant opened a file, shuffled through the papers and pulled out a single page. He handed the letter, dated four years previously, to Emelina to review. From the Estate lawyer, it was information that, since Mr. Beaufort's passing the previous year, all correspondence was now to go through James Digby at the Estate until further notice. It made mention that Mrs. Beaufort was presently indisposed...” Emelina, tears pooling in her eyes, stopped reading and returned the letter to the accountant. 

The accountant put the letter back in the file. He appeared not to notice his client's discomfort only said “Since Mr. Beaufort’s passing, Mr. Digby seems to have been in charge. Quite a change from butlering to managing all the accounts.” Leaning forward, elbows on his very busy desk, he looked kindly at Emelina. 

She nodded in agreement. “Yes, Digby has been a rock for me these last several years." She turned to Brigitte and introduced her to Mr. Winston. “This is Brigitte Smithson, my Personal Assistant. She has been just as solid for me these last four years. But now, I wish to know about the Estate business. Your relationship with Digby will not be altered, unless either of you wish it. The three of us can discuss it at anytime to formalize any changes. As Michael - Mr. Beaufort - left full responsibility for the Estate to me, my goal is to learn what constitutes my role in this whole business.” Emelina had looked away briefly, an all too familiar feeling of shame washing over her. Sitting up straight, she continued. “Is there a resource, or resources, that you would recommend for me? Is the Estate considered a Small Business or is there some other designation for Estate management?”

Gerald was very impressed with Mr. Beaufort’s wife. The rumours he heard from other accountant’s about her complete lack of concern may have been true at one time, however something had changed for her. Whatever had happened, he was pleased that Mr. Digby would have some pressure taken off his shoulders. Gerald hoped that Mrs. Beaufort knew what a gem she had in that man. If Miss Smithson, the Personal Assistant with her, was as stalwart as she had said, the Estate just may have a real leader at the helm. One with strong supports that she relied on for their proven wisdom.

~~~~~

Home at last. Brigitte had one easy chair in her living room. She flopped down in it, and closed her eyes. Then sat straight up, grabbed her shoulder bag and began searching for her phone. Her tablet met her hand first. It would be much better. Pulling up the email from Joanie Richardson, Martha Havestock's daughter, she reread it: “Hello Brigitte. I have an issue I’d like to discuss with you. It’s really a small matter, but pretty important.” Her stomach churned. Quietly aloud she said “I finally have a nice place of my own and I can walk to work. I like my new neighbours but now after only being here for a day, I get this email!” She heard her mother’s voice. “Slow down. Breathe.” Not realizing she was holding her breath, she let out a slow whoosh of the trapped air, took a new deep breath and got her breathing back to a normal, steady rhythm. She took off her light jacket and hung it up, poured a glass of cold water and sat at her quasi antique-store table with her tablet.

She began to reply to the email. “Hi Joanie, I’ve read your email. I’m home from……..” No, I think I’ll call her. Joanie picked up on the first ring. “Hi Joanie, this is Brigitte. I read your email. What can I do for you?”

The phone call ended when Brigitte, relieved and amused said “I’ll meet you in the backyard.” She was still laughing when she walked onto her back porch. A very young man, and Martha's nine year old grandson Ben, was standing on the other side of the gate separating the two backyards. Quickly serious, Brigitte called out to him “Ben! I hear you have something you want to ask me. Let me take the lock off the gate so you can come in and we can talk. You can call me Brigitte, remember?” His mother stood on her back porch, arms folded. She smiled. “Go ahead Ben. It’s ok. Ask Brigitte about the sign on the gate.”

Young Ben was very nervous. He held up the yellowed and faded sign that dangled from hooks on the gate. “See, Brigitte, the sign is wrong now.” Talking to grownups made him shy, but he had to talk. He was nine years old, practically grown up and this woman with pretty red hair and a really sweet motorcycle just made him act like a baby. “If you want the gate to stay locked, then that’s ok. I’ll just take the Grandma’s Busy sign off so you can be”……he searched for the word his grandma used………”you can be private.”

Brigitte had brought the key for the gate's padlock “Ben, thank you for noticing that. I have been so busy, I didn’t even think about the sign. Let’s you and I take that lock off.” She turned the key in the lock til it popped open and let her new friend take it off the gate.“You give that to your mother with this key. I do need you to do something else for me, if you can.” Ben, still nervous, was really quite excited. “Sure. What do you want me to do?”

She looked at the sign he was still holding. “I think we need a new sign, Ben. Would you make a new one for our gate? Do you need any help with it?” Brigitte was enchanted by this young man, so polite and thoughtful…..and nervous. Her concerns about the children coming over willy-nilly had been allayed.

“Children are likely to live up to what you believe of them.”

~ Lady Bird Johnson, Former First Lady of the United States

Chapter One, Episode 124 - Grandma's Sign - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
As I read through this Episode, there were places through out almost every paragraph that seemed very disjointed. Consequently, there have been many revisions, none that change the direction of the story, but hopefully take the kinks out of it. If the writer can't even understand what's been written, expecting the reader to be able to plow through it all is completely unfair. All in all, I did enjoy the original writing and this revision. There were no typo's to deal with, just a lot of rewriting and rewording to smooth out Ben's story.

Thank you to all my readers for your patience! You are all great at giving me bouquets and I appreciate every one of them. Please feel free to let me know about any difficulties you have with my little stories.

Grandma's Sign

Each side of the little duplex had a lovely backyard separated by tall solid fencing, lattice running its length. While Martha lived there, she replaced the fence with a flowering hedge leaving a small space for a gate between the two yards. Martha and her daughter Joanie wanted easy access to one another. Of course, young Ben, her grandson, was in complete agreement. He thought it was a good idea to be able to go to grandma’s house through the little gate in the hedge.

When the duplex had been purchased, Abby had been very tiny so, although she clapped and gurgled, she really had little to say about whether to keep the fence or put in a fast growing hedge.

On Joanie’s side of the hedge, Martha gifted her precious little family with a small jungle gym set, along with a sand box. On her side, she installed a small gazebo with a hot tub. Occasionally Martha entertained various women’s groups, including a bridge club that met once a month. The children would often burst through the gate interrupting a garden party, a bridge game or just some personal quiet time, still learning what privacy meant. Joanie, the children’s mother wracked her brain for a solution that didn’t involve tears, repeated reminders or keeping the gate locked at all times. She and the young girl that often babysat puzzled it over. “Do you think a sign would help, Mrs. Richardson? I don’t know what kind but maybe I could design one with Ben this afternoon.” Tanya Meadows, the children’s baby sitter often did crafts with Ben and his little sister Abby. Using poster board and crayons, she had helped Ben make a sign for the gate. ‘Grandma’s Busy’ on one side and on the other ‘Grandma’s Home’. Joanie loved the idea and the colourful results.” She took the newly designed sign to work, had it laminated and had two holes punched in the top margin. Two cup hooks taken from a kitchen drawer, she and Ben went out to the gate. Mom screwed the cup hooks into the top of the little gate while her assistant Ben, completed their project. He stood on a little wooden box and looked up at his mom “Which side should it be, mom? The Busy side or the Home side?” Joanie bent down to him. “What do you think? Where is Grandma right now?” Ben screwed up his face, thought long and hard and then his face brightened like a lightbulb. “I know! She’s at work isn’t she? So she’s busy, right?” Proudly and with the confidence of a seven year old, he made sure the 'Grandma’s Busy' side was displayed. “Does Grandma know about the sign, mom?” Joanie took Ben by the hand, leading him into the house. “Come on. We'll send her a message on the computer and tell her we have a surprise for her. We’ll ask her to come to the gate in the hedge to get it. Grandma always checks her messages when she gets home.” 

Grandma did indeed love the sign. She always changed it before she left for work and again when she came home. Sometimes she would send Ben a message and ask him to change it. It became a little game that they both enjoyed. 

~~~~~

Several years later, when the sign was bleached and worn, Grandma Martha got married and moved all the way to the far side of the Estate. Everyone was happy for them. Everyone except Ben. He was shy to meet their new neighbour, but she worked with his grandma and she'd be living in his grandma’s house and she drove a motorcycle, so he thought she must be ok. 

~~~~~

One day, when their mother was at work and Tanya was watching the children a problem arose. Busy with Abby and her new colouring books, the very conscientious sitter glanced across the living room to see what Ben was up to. Relieved, she saw him reading the motorcycle book he had been given by the new tenant next door. Sketches of all kinds of motorcycles with short informative paragraphs beneath each picture had him entranced. He read every word and studied the sketches. Every now and then, Tanya heard a "Wow" or "Sweet". Some glossy pages of classic motorcycles with the owner astride the bike weren't studied as intently as the sketches. He thought they were great, - "I'd really like to ride that one!" - but he was more interested in all the parts of a motorcycles. Ignoring his video games, he had pored over the book. But now, it lay open on his lap. Staring blankly at the trees outside, he wore a sad, sad look on his face. Tanya had looked up again: it had become too quiet. “Ben! What’s wrong? You look so sad.” 

Ben turned his big sad brown eyes to her. Tanya had come over to him, sat on the couch and lifted his nine year old weight onto her lap as though he were a much smaller child. “You miss your grandma already, don't you, Ben? She must miss you too.” Without even looking at her, he said in a hushed voice, his lower lip quivering “Sure I miss Grandma, but what about the sign?”. 

Tanya leaned back and looked at Ben quizzically. “What sign?” “You know. The sign. The Grandma’s Busy sign. The one you and I made. Don’t you remember?” Ben was quite frustrated with his favourite babysitter. “You don’t remember, do you?” He slid down from her lap and took her hand, pulling her forcefully to the back door. “Slow down. Let me get Abby, Ben, and I’ll come with you. Where are you going?……….Abby, come with us for a minute. Ben wants to show us something.” Abby jumped off her chair, bringing her crayon and colouring book with her. “It's ok. He’s just going outside to the sign.”

Tanya thought What is with a sign? What’s so important that it makes Ben almost cry? Out the back door, across the back porch and down the steps, something gnawed at the back of her mind. Of course. The Grandma sign! Ben saw Tanya’s face light up. "Now you know don’t you? The sign on the gate isn’t right anymore. We have to take it down."

“A child needs a grandparent, anybody’s grandparent, to grow 

a little more securely into an unfamiliar world”

~ Charles and Ann Morse

Chapter One - Episode 123 - Turning Corners - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
When I write my first drafts, sometimes pen and paper, sometimes tap-tapping on my laptop, they can be filled with corny descriptions or as flat as a Grade 7 essay.

Today's review indicated to this writer a lot of flatness. With little effort, I abruptly shifted all the way over to corny. My challenge was to find the middle ground between the two. With a lot more effort and after many re-reads, I believe I have reached a balance between the two.

Turning Corners

“Miss Em, you look wonderful! Your vacation must have been great.” Brigitte greeted her boss with enthusiasm. Emelina did look wonderful. Tanned, relaxed and ready to be home. 

“Brigitte, it was…..how can I put this……illuminating.” Smiling gently, she thought about all that had happened. Not just in the past week, but in the past three weeks. “Do you know I’ve learned more about myself and what I’m capable of in the past three months than in my entire life. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but………” Emelina stopped herself and abruptly changed the subject. “But now we do need to get down to work.” Although she was a bit miffed about not getting anything more, Brigitte did understand that she would have been out of line to insist on any details. 

Emelina did, indeed, have a very illuminating vacation. Excitement about just getting away, but more than that, her budding romance with Jeremy. To her great surprise, tears of frustration and walking on the  rocks of the past, had dashed the excitement. Finding new strength and risking it all. She knew that her personal secretary was not the one to share these precious and scary things with - it was her sister. Dez had helped her out of the isolated, but comfortable, pit she had dug for herself before the pandemic changed her life. They would be meeting that afternoon for a late lunch. Emelina didn’t know that Dez had her own stories to tell, not only about the workshop she attended, but the two weeks following the workshop.

~~~~~

Dez Eliot and Matt Hamilton spent the week following the workshop getting to know each other. Why marriage came up over coffee in the park neither remembers. They were in very clear agreement: “I do not want to get married again.” After that, it was a strange, but comfortable, two weeks. There were days when they did not see or talk with each other at all. Always up early, if Matt came into town for supplies for the apiary or orchard, he would call Dez for breakfast or lunch in the park. They preferred one of the many food trucks that had popped up with the Covid19 restrictions. Restaurants were open again, but only allowed half capacity, so lunch was often a burger or fish taco in the open summer air. Ocean breezes cooled the warm sunshine, while they talked of bees, apples and life in general, carefully skirting the issue of deepening their relationship.

Studying from the recent Fruit Trees workshop, when Dez got stuck on a particular part, she went to Matt at his orchard for help. In between, she got lost in her art, delving into stylized realism of the landscapes she loved. The budding relationship between Dez Eliot and Matt Hamilton had become an easy one with no strings or demands on time or heart.

“We don’t see people as they are. We see people as we are.”

~ Anaïs Nin, Little Birds

Chapter One, Episode 122 - The Caretaker - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
As I review these various Episodes, I am struck by two things. The first is that my vocabulary is limited. The limits are to my life experience, which leads me to the next issue. My writing is often to literal and does take me back to clinical writing rather than story telling. Revisions are throughout this Episode, most heavily towards the end. I do enjoy this study.

The Caretaker

A young girl swung off her bike. A red bicycle with a basket, flowers woven around the rim. She had secured it to the handle bars, and filled it with books. “Hello. Are you visiting the Richardsons?” It was just before nine in the morning. Brigitte, on her way to work at the Estate, came down the few steps and greeted the young girl. When Brigitte approached her, she realized that she was about 17 or 18 years of age, 

“Hello. I’m Tanya Meadows. I’m here to take care of Ben and Abby while Mrs. Richardson is at the library for the morning.” Tanya lifted her bike onto the small porch, wrapped a chain around the back wheel and locked it securely. Pulling out a brightly coloured mask, hooking it over her ears, she smiled with her eyes at Brigitte, then reached an elbow out for an elbow bump.

Brigitte began to ask her the litany of questions posed at restaurants, clinics and some stores. “Have you travelled outside of the country in the last two weeks? Have you had a fever…..? I don’t really remember all the questions, but you must be okay or Joanie - I mean, Mrs. Richardson - wouldn’t have asked you to come today.”

The Richardson’s front door opened. After her children came through the door, their mother followed them and pulled the door closed. “Tanya. Thank you for coming. When the Library contacted me about requiring onsite work, I called your mother to make certain that resuming babysitting for me was appropriate given the restrictions  -  and I see you’ve met my new neighbour, Brigitte Smithson.”

“Tanya! Tanya!” Abby was jumping up and down, clapping her hands. “You came back.” Tanya Meadows had been babysitting for the Richardson’s for the last three years. Since the pandemic restrictions clamped down on life and for quite some time, she had been no longer able to come to the Richardsons. 

As long as Mrs. Richardson was working from home, it had not been a great problem. Without Tanya, and with her children's help, she set them games and tasks allowing her to maintain some semblance of a schedule. Her husband, Andrew worked in another province; most days he was able to spend up to two hours on a video chat with the children. After speaking with Tanya's mother, the children's favourite babysitter was back. Mrs. Meadows chatted about the family bubble they had maintained for several weeks and how it had been difficult for Tanya to not be with her school mates, but had enjoyed the extra reading time. The Richardson children loved and missed her. She loved them and missed them equally. For Tanya, this would be the first face to face contact she had had with anyone outside of her parents, brothers and sisters for many weeks.

~~~~~

I’ve been saved! When Brigitte realized that she wouldn’t have to explain to the children that she wouldn't be spending time with them; that Mrs. Beaufort at the estate had called her in to work, she was ready to cheer. When she met Tanya and the situation had been explained to her, she relaxed. “Tanya, would you do me a favour? The children and I had plans for this afternoon, but I’ve had to cancel them. I have some butterfly stickers, markers, new crayons and colouring books for Abby.” Brigitte ran back in the house for a book bag. “Everything's in here. There's also a book about motorcycles, as well as a sketchbook and pencils for Ben. He might want to draw some sketches from what he reads. His book is for ages 10 - 13, so I hope it won’t be too much for him. That doesn’t seem like very much for Ben, but I ran out of time when I was shopping for their gifts.” Brigitte set them on the porch, still maintaining the correct distance from her young saviour.

“I definitely will! Abby and I will have fun with the new colouring books. I’ll be sure to help Ben with his motorcycle book. He used to be interested in sketching absolutely everything. Maybe it'll get him drawing again.” Tanya was certainly sure of herself. Both the children’s mother and Brigitte were grateful to this lovely young girl. Joanie got in her car and drove off to the Library. Brigitte set off walking to the Estate to meet with Miss Emelina, who was back from her vacation.

“Come on, kids. Let’s go in the house. Your neighbour gave me some things for you, but we’ll look at them inside.” Tanya picked up the book bag, sharp corners of the contents suggesting a treasure hunt was on the way.  “Ben, open the door for us. Did you kids have your breakfast? We’ll make popcorn for a snack in a little while.”

“Anyone who does anything to help a child in his life is a hero to me.”

 ~ Fred Rogers (Mr. Rogers)

Chapter One, Episode 121 - Far Away and Close to Home - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

One area of writing that I've had little practice in is writing children's stories. I have, in this episode, had an opportunity to write children's dialogue. Not being around many children over the last 40 or so years, I've had to rely on memory and TV child characters.

My most important revision was in the eighth paragraph. The experience of the children at their grandmother's wedding related to the content, had been left out in the original Episode 121(Far Away and Close to Home). My revision, with young Ben's help, clarified that issue. 

Far Away and Close to Home

“End it, Ben.” Joanie had tried. 

Joanie Richardson and her husband, Andrew Richardson, started their little family later than most. Their careers had come first, children would not necessarily be part of their life plans. However, after one night daring to be without protection, Joanie became pregnant with Ben. Four years later and planned this time, Abigail was born. Two children was enough for them both. Two years later, her husband was offered a transfer on the mainland across the country. Lucrative and a career move upwards, he wanted to take it. Joanie wished to remain in Hartley with her career, a well paying job as Head Librarian at the local library and close to her mother. She wanted her children to know their grandmother. Hours and days of discussion did not bring them to any compromise. Ultimately, Andrew took the job, which his son, Ben labelled ‘the far away job’. He came home often. With the coming of the Covid19 pandemic, and being very far away, he would have no trips home for a while. Maybe a long while. Video chats became regular with his little family. Both parents were working from their separate and distant homes. The time difference between east and west allowed Andrew to entertain the children for two hours each of Joanie’s on-site work days.

Today, was Joanie’s day off. Being away from the computer was always welcomed. When she saw Ben focussed on some game on his computer without stop, she decided that it was time to say something. “End it, Ben. You need to be doing something else….please, go out in the yard to play, read one of the graphic novels I brought home for you from the library.” His mother, exasperated at no response, took a deep breath to calm herself. “What else do you like to do?”

After a few minutes, his eyes still on the screen, thumbs clicking away like mad, shoulders moving up and down with each game play he said “Mom, I miss my friends and I’m bored. This is what I like to do.”

His mother sighed. “Ben, you used to like building things. You and your father built that birdhouse that’s hanging from the eaves. There’s the little doll house the both of you built for Abby’s last birthday. And the little stool you built for your grandmother? She loves it so much she sewed a special cushion to put on it so she would have a foot stool for her reading chair.”

“Yeah, and dad’s gone to his far away job and Grandma got married. My friends are all stuck at home with their parents. You’re alway’s working for the library or taking care of Abby.” Normally shy with strangers, young Ben was not always a nice polite boy with his mother. Especially when it came to calling an end to his games.

Joanie decided to play her ‘for your Grandma’ card. “Well, come outside with Abby and me. Remember your Grandma telling us that she worked with her up at the Beaufort mansion. Well, she's moving into Grandma’s house today. You'll be able to tell her all about meeting this new neighbour.”

Ben suddenly put his game aside on the floor and sat up straight. “She's the one with the motorcycle!? Grandma told me all about it and about her. We saw her at Grandma's wedding, didn't we? Do you think she’ll be bringing her motorcycle here?” Ben absently stepped over his game barely missing the snaking cords threatening to trip him. “Should I go comb my hair?”

“You’re hair looks just fine, Ben. Just tuck in your shirt.” Joanie was almost laughing at her son’s transformation, but she managed to keep a straight face. Calling out to her daughter, Joanie started towards the door. “Abby, are you ready?”

“Yes, mom. Can I bring Molly with me? She doesn’t like to be alone.” Abby clutched her soft doll to her in a child’s firm statement of determination. “Do you think the new lady will like my doll?” 

~~~~~

Brigitte did, in fact, ride her motorcycle to her new home. When Ben was asked to greet Brigitte, he suddenly got shy, never taking his eyes off of her motorcycle. Abby thrust her Molly at her mother who caught it just as the doll was about to land face down in the dirt. Not a shy bone in her body, she ran over to Brigitte. The children's mother had met Brigitte when her mother and the butler married. Her instinct was that she would be a good neighbour. So far, it seemed, Joanie’s instinct was right. 

“In the little world in which children have their existence, whosoever brings 

them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt as injustice.”

~ Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Chapter One, Episode 120 - Finding Herself - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
This episode is a little side trip into a major move for Brigitte Smithson, Emelina Beaufort Lady's Maid - now Personal Secretary. There were few edits to make: some punctuation and minor wording changes later on in this piece.

Finding Herself

The wonder of being independent was almost overwhelming. Brigitte had been dragging her feet about this decision. At twenty-nine years old, living with her parents, while comfortable felt somehow constrained. They had worked out a relatively easy relationship in the past four years. She had returned to Hartley from the mainland when she was twenty-five, jobless, homeless and tanned from her post high school years of wandering. Like many young adults she had been trying to ‘find herself’. She learned that finding oneself was not like walking into a store and choosing a preferred persona from a shelf. It was the dirt under your fingernails from digging a hole for a tree…..over and over. Brushing black flies away from your sun baked face. Never having a hair style except tied up with a rubber band or string. Finding herself was wearing a cutesy uniform to wait on customers who were either grateful, rude or just people. It was learning how to smile regardless of the patron ordering their food. Finding herself was learning how to pick fruit from a tree laden with apples or pears or peaches, deciding which was ripe enough to pick, gently releasing it from its home and filling the heavy canvas bag strapped across her shoulder and back. Finding herself was being a nanny and not really even liking children, but learning they weren’t as scary as she had thought. Finding herself was being without a home base but learning how to eke out a living where ever she lived. Finding herself was turning her motorcycle west. Her parents had welcomed her home.

Brigitte had been working at the Beaufort Estate after she had washed the dust and dirt out of her mind and body; the joys and lessons from her long time away clean and polished. She was often unaware of it, but she really had found that precious thing she called ‘herself’. Even so, when she was sitting in Digby’s office at the Beaufort Estate for her job interview, her heart beat wildly and with each word spoken, she could hear the dryness of her mouth. She was interviewed by the Housekeeper, Martha Haverstock and the butler, James Digby. The job? To be a Lady’s Maid for Mrs. Beaufort and to be the cleaner for the Upstairs. It seemed a very strange household. Mrs. Beaufort was a recent widow and in deep grief. It was a big old house, still run in the manner of an Upstairs/Downstairs situation. Brigitte wasn’t even sure she wanted the job. There was far more staff than one individual would require. She would be the youngest staff member by several decades. There seemed little life in the house on the day of her interview. The grounds were immense. After many resumes and interviews either declined or without a response, she would not even be able to pay for her groceries, let alone the little rent her parents asked for. She needed the job. 

Now? At the beginning, being a Lady’s Maid for the Estate Owner, with no other training than experience serving restaurant patrons, it was just one more challenge. A challenge with a paycheque. It was a challenge she had met and was now Mrs. Beaufort’s Personal Assistant. Now she was standing beside her 'Old Faithful' motorcycle in front of what would now be her own home, one half of a duplex on the Estate. It had been Martha’s home. So many changes had occurred. While the Covid19 pandemic had destroyed many lives in the swath that it had cut around the world, this strange group of people had not only survived but thrived despite the restrictions. Admittedly, it seemed almost like a soap opera many times. Old relationships finally out in the open, one wedding, a story teller and even a ghost. But such good, kind people. 

The rumble of a truck caused Brigitte to turn. Samuel Forrester, the estate gardener and yardman, using his pickup, had volunteered to pick up her belongings and help her move in. She didn’t have much, but her motorcycle, her clothes and a few pots and pans. Her parents had insisted she take her own bed and any furnishings in her bedroom. Joanie, Martha’s daughter lived next door. “Brigitte Smithson? So wonderful to finally meet you. These two little ruffians are mom’s grandchildren. Children this is Miss Smithson.” Joanie ruffled their hair, looking at them fondly. “Ben, say hello to our new neighbour. Abby, say……..” Joanie stopped. Little Abby had already run over to Brigitte and hugged her knees. “Mommy, is this the new lady that’s grandma’s friend?……Ben….mom said to say hello to her, come on.”  Nine year old Ben, shyly walked over to Brigitte. “Hello. Do you ever wear a mask? If you don’t have one, I can give you mine. Abby shouldn’t have hugged you right away like that.” 

Brigitte smiled and knelt down at eye level with the children. “It is lovely to meet you. Your grandmother has told me a lot about you both. I’ve seen the pictures you draw for her and they are really fun.” Glancing briefly at Joanie to catch her eye she said “And if it’s ok with your mother, you can call me Brigitte.”

“Do you have crayons, Bridge?” Abby, taken immediately to Brigitte, had trouble pronouncing her name. It almost sounded like the word bridge, a word Abby knew.

“Well, I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure I can find them. Maybe after I get all moved in you can come and visit me to help me with my colouring books.” Brigitte didn’t have any crayons or colouring books, but a trip to the drugstore would solve that little obstacle.

“Come on, children. Let Brigitte get into her new home. We can visit with her later. Ben, come away from Brigitte’s motorcycle.” Joanie tried to shepherd her children home.

“Ben, why don’t you come over tomorrow afternoon and I’ll show it to you.” Brigitte’s experience as a nanny would come in handy after all. 

“Can I ride it?” Ben looked up at her hopefully.

“Oh no, you’re not quite big enough yet. Isn’t that right, mom?” Brigitte met Joanie’s eyes. “But make sure you come over tomorrow after you have your lunch. I’ll have a surprise for you.”

Joanie took her children by their hands and tried once more to move them in the direction of home. Brigitte would get things set up tonight, but in the morning she’d have a ride into Hartley for crayons, colouring books and a motorcycle for Ben. She knew exactly the toy store to go to. Maybe she’d get him a model motorcycle that they could assemble together.

“People often say that this or that person has not yet found himself. 

But the self is not something one finds, it is something one creates.”

~ Thomas Szasz, known for Critique of Psychiatry

April 1920 - September 2012