Lily 1

(The blog could be inactive for several months as this story is prepared; here is Chapter One.)

I've just walked out of the public library when I run into Eva, a friend of my older sister from her university days. I just vaguely nod, keep on going. Big shot doctor's wife, they say, nose in the air, does not talk with the peasantry.
She surprises me by stopping me, suggests the coffee house attached to the library. We settle in, me with vanilla hazelnut, her with decaf skim latte (why do they bother?)
She regales me with stories of doctor's wifedom. Seems every minute he's not doctoring, he's reading medical journals or drinking. Grin, "so, you see, I need a hobby. Going to write a book."
I could mention that unsolicited manuscripts sit for a donkey's age in the slush pile, but I refrain. Maybe she'll be able to prevail upon her cousin Nathan, the editor.
Vaguely I say, "nice to have a hobby. Got ideas on setting and characters?"
"Yukon and Vancouver."
I feel my neck muscles go tense. This is starting to hit close to home.
She gushes, "see the only thing people like better than historical fiction, is setting it in the here and now. Anachronism, throwback, retro. Two college lads are burnt out from study. The summer between graduating and grad school, they hop in an old car. Drive to the Yukon, pan for gold, using old maps from circa 1899."
It's now all I can do not to cry.
"But of course, I'll keep it good clean adventure, at the start. So I won't have either leaving someone behind."
Thank heavens for small mercies.
"But you see, the gold bug bites. They decide to never return."
I nod vaguely.
"What complicates matters is both are closet gay. So it's summers panning and winters playing barrista in Vancouver and making the gay bathhouse scene."
Acidly I think her own brother could help with background info on that. Maybe he already has.
"But life does not stand still. They marry legally, adopt a boy through Jewish Social Services. Then, before he's thirteen, the big showdown. Guess what that is over?"
By now it's comical, moved along into fiction. I grin wickedly, "one wants to spend the money on a bar mitzvah; the other on a gay cruise."
She looks crestfallen, "that predictable?"
I nod.
"Oh well, gotta rework that part of the idea. Tell me, that rat of a fiance who ran out on you, ever hear anything about him?"
I sigh, "I try to look at the bright side. Better it happened before marriage than after."
"Still, ever hear about him?"
"Both dead. Drinking in a bar in the Yukon. Some First Nations people can be homophobic. I'd understand how you didn't hear. It never made the Jewish weekly."
"But you don't mind if I write the story? I'd give it a more cheerful ending."
"As I understand libel laws, long as I'm never mentioned, I'd have no "
"Don't get me wrong. I didn't mean legal, I mean if this hurt you, your sister would kill me. So, how do you feel?"
"Leave me outa the story, you can say anything you like. It does seem almost comical."
She leans forward, "I've got it, the big breakup comes when one decides to make Aliyah (emigrate to Israel)."
By now I'm laughing, it's been cathartic, "sure, do the story."

After dinner, Dad goes to sit outside. Mum and I don't mind if he smokes the odd cigarette in the house; however a cigar clings like fury to drapes and furniture.
As I load the dishwasher, Mum says, "Lily, you haven't said a word in days, beyond what is absolutely necessary."
I nod.
"See there you go again. Now be honest, are you angry with us?"
"Not at all Mum."
"Whew that's a relief. Not thinking of converting out of Judaism or becoming a lesbian?"
"Not even close Mum."
"So, time to talk of the big taboo. This concerns the death up north, doesn't it?"
I groan inwardly, Jewish mothers, what can you do?
"Please Lily honey, talk to me. Anything is better than not talking."
"Mum, it's horrible, beyond all belief, everybody is gossiping. Oh yes, some are sympathetic, it's all his fault. Others, blame me, I should have been more whatever and he wouldn't have switched to gay. Some know the whole story; others haven't heard of the death."
"Give it time, honey, people will move along, find someone else to slang."
"Mum, it's ridiculous. Nobody judges me by my education, job, hobbies or anything else. I'm simply the one incident, it defines my whole life."
"So I guess that's why you've avoided the synagogue and JCC (Jewish Community Center) of late."
"If they don't smarten up Mum, I'll leave town." (Round here that means choosing Toronto or Israel.)
"Please make it Toronto honey, not Israel, too dangerous."
"Mum, the same number of people die. In Toronto they call it crime; in Israel, terrorism. What difference does it really make?"
"At least if you were in Toronto, we'd see you more often."
"Oh come on, you gonna say you can't afford the odd airfare?"
She laughs, "sounds great to me. I've been trying to convince him of a trip to Israel for years."