My Pandemic Pastime

And, then, Nicholas. “Don’t call me Nick; if my parents wanted me called Nick, they’d have called me ‘Nick’,” arrived into this world that Lena so coveted as one that was insular, and which she had no interest in changing, despite its many difficulties. While she drew comfort and enjoyment from her small family, she viewed the rest of the world with skepticism, hating so many aspects of it that she was loathe to leave its confines.

But Stella wanted her sister to find her own life, make her own family. “Lena, I know there has been so much sadness and rebuke in your life, and you don’t want to leave yourself vulnerable to more heartache,“ Stella said to her sister, regarding her with near motherly concern. “Yes, maybe you’ve had bad experiences with men and even just trying to be social, but there may be something or someone out there for you.”

Lena had already decided she was not relenting, and gave her sister a look that easily conveyed she was annoyed at the topic.

Of course, Stella got her way, and Lena agreed that, yes, MAYBE, there was more to life for her than living with her sister’s family. Maybe there could be happiness if she let down her guard.

Maybe.

Perhaps.

She agreed to meet Nicholas and, unexpectedly, began to imagine that there may be a future in a world she wouldn’t have to hate. Slowly, reluctantly, she let down her defenses and tried to trust, something she had been unable to do since childhood and Cam.

It seemed cautiously promising, in their first months together, and Stella smugly congratulated herself for persevering with getting Lena and Nicholas together. Even Lena was beginning to relax a bit in the relationship. Maybe it would work out.

But, had Lena known what lay ahead, she would have chosen the familiarity of being alone in a fickle world she often hated, over the one she had hoped might hold happiness.

“Why do you let them call you ‘Lena’?” Nicholas had quizzed her on one of their first dates. “Magdalene is a beautiful name. Lena is common.”

Lena didn’t have a witty response, so answered with a definitive, “I don’t know.”

Despite his tendency to pooh-pooh or dissect her life’s decisions, there was a whimsy about this Nicholas that appealed to Lena. She didn’t want to like him, but she found herself doing just that. He seemed well-acquainted with the history and politics so important to her, and his humor did track somewhat along the lines of hers. When she pronounced Garry Shandling self-deprecating, the kind of humor she enjoyed, he’d laughed appropriately. Years later, he told her he’d just pretended to know what ‘self-deprecating’ meant because he was trying to get into her pants.

But, that was years away from the good times the pair of them had when, finally, she’d done as Stella wanted, and taken to this new swain, Nicholas. She forgot once, early on, and called him “Nick”. She never did it again, so apoplectic was he about it. He hated that name. Years later she’d yearn to call him just that, because she hated Nicholas every bit as much as he hated ‘Nick’. Quite a bit more likely, she would come to think later.

Lena actually enjoyed her first few dates with Nicholas. He shared with her a love of animals, showed her a photo of his dog that he kept in his wallet, and agreed that he, like her, wanted to set down rural roots sometime in the future, away from the city and the hustle, bustle and people. Though his line of work – and current job - demanded he live in the deepest darkest denizens of the metropolis, he often described how happy he was as a child, living on a farm in the province of Manitoba. He was the middle child of five, the two before and the two after being sets of identical twins. The older pair were Kristina and Kayley; the younger, Kayden and Kyle. Lena deplored the names, thinking of them as The KKKK. And so trendy for the times, the years spanning the late ‘80s into the late ‘90s. She had always been happy that Sylvie had put thought and purpose into naming her girls; learning of this Katastrophe in Nicholas’ family nomenclature gave her more pride in the name her mother had chosen for her.

When she finally asked Nicholas how he managed to escape the ‘Special K’s that ran rampant in the Coleman family, he seemed amused, telling her that he was the outsider, lost between two special sets of children who seemed to sap all the strength from his parents in dealing with them. But, he did clarify that both his parents had names beginning, like his, with ‘N’: Natalie and Norman. So there was some inclusion, at least. Lena was coached and frequently warned that his father hated the “NORM! Norman,” that was a recurring – and always funny – greeting when that character walked into Sam’s bar in the TV show, “Cheers”. Funnily, enough, it had been her very first thought when she heard the name.

Her very second thought was about a Ph.D. student, named Norm, who walked her home after a grad social, despite her protestations and insistence she was fine making her own way. He had used every obvious overture and advance to get more from her than she was willing to offer, not only by way of conversation. He complimented her on every possible thing: her looks; her intelligence; her great sense of humor; her academic prowess; etc., obviously unaware she knew he had a wife, a youngster and another baby on the way; and that the happy family all lived in Married Students’ Residences in the opposite direction from that they were walking. She despised the pettiness and uncouth nature of people like Norm, people who would lie or put on a false front to get whatever it was he or she wanted from a situation. Norm had tried to hold her hand, upon observing snow had started falling, but failed. He wondered aloud as to where she lived and how far of a walk was it. She lied and said she had a car, and walked in the general direction of the Humanities’ building parking lot.

Norm was quick to realize that he would definitely benefit from a ride if Lena didn’t mind giving him one. It wasn’t far, he added. Despite how uncomfortable he made her feel, Lena drew enough from her reserve courage and amusement at what she was about to launch that she responded to this request for transport, with “I’m not going in your direction, sorry.” He looked confused, slowing his pace. Then, simply, she said, “You live over there, in Married Students, don’t you?” and pointed back in the relative direction they had just walked.

Norm laughed, not even self-consciously or guiltily, “the bastard,” Lena thought. Having his charade shattered, he drew in his breath noisily, sighed some of it back out and said, “Well, can’t blame a first-rate Doctoral candidate for trying.” Yes…yes, she could, but Lena just walked on. When she’d put enough distance between them, and was fairly certain he couldn’t see her, she circled back in the direction of her grad student residence. She was actually surprised Norm didn’t know that’s where she was living, and had bought the story about the car. It would appear, Lena smiled in the way she did when she’d outwitted someone, “that at least some first-rate Doctoral students were rather stupid.

When, at the start of the next semester, Lena learned that the course she really wanted to take on Revolution across Europe in the 1800 – 1900 period was to have as its Tutorial Assistant one Norm Bassest, Lena groaned, knowing how much weight a TA could bring to bear on a student’s mark. She’d heard he was now separated (too many car rides home, perhaps?), but wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse for her. Mostly, though, she felt revulsion at the thought of someone so creepy and slick holding sway over her educational achievements. She found another course that covered basically the same period, though from a more socio-economic viewpoint. In the end it was a mark and that was all. And, funnily, she never saw Norm again that entire term, nor indeed, ever.

Living in the country was a dream Lena had since she was a child, watching TV shows about horses, and dreaming of riding the trails across vast swaths of deserts or through the surf at the ocean’s edge. Someday. Then, during the years spent crammed into the tiny house with Sylvie, Stella and Pete and their three children, the longing became evermore visceral. She loved her family, yes, and living with them gave her the grounding she needed for the times when depression would sweep sneakily under the shadows of her doubts and into her soul. Her days of despair and the pointlessness of life affected everyone in the family, setting the tone for behavior throughout the household. Eventually, she would be prescribed a new medication and, with luck, it would set her to rights…or at least help her to get out of bed during those days when hiding under her covers was all she could manage.

The strong bond they had - Lena, Sylvie and Stella – forged on the fiery anvil of their lives, had always been her salvation, giving her the motivation to move past yet another backslide and try to live out in the world again. That, and the eternal optimism, curiosity and innocence of her niece and nephews, whose cries of delight when Auntie Lena would re-emerge from the darkness of her cave, kept her functioning throughout the worst of times.

She knew she needed them, but she also wanted to escape the confines of society, where every trip outside the house, whether to work, or to shop, or for the odd social commitment meant rearranging herself emotionally, psychologically and externally to manage in society. Had she a super power, she would choose invisibility. Yet, despite her discomfort with, and attempt to avoid, people, she was always pleasant. She smiled widely, a real smile, at everyone, even those she merely passed in the street. It was rare she didn’t receive a smile in return. She was told often about her lovely smile and heard that others thought her such a happy person, never failing to acknowledge another in passing with her signature wide beam, eyes sparkling for extra effect. The fools!

Lena knew that most people with her social anxiety and discomfiture would keep their heads down and avoid communicative intercourse. That, to her, seemed harder than just smiling. She was a good person; she thought herself a very good person and, somehow, she thought that by smiling at people, be they strangers or colleagues, she could establish that impression of herself and, in so doing, scurry away to the warren of her own thoughts and solitude. No offense. No need for defense.

After a year together, Lena was beginning to believe that a life with Nicholas may actually be a road to some sort of happiness. His confidence counterbalanced her self-uncertainty, his comfort and enthusiasm in social situations providing cover for her to repair to the sidelines. Sometimes, at parties or the employee get-togethers his company held regularly, she would brave standing next to him, feeling she could just meld into him, thereby avoiding the need to partake in whatever conversation was ongoing. He began to feel like her protection, her safety net and, very gradually, she felt something like ‘home’. He could be home.

The idea both thrilled and terrified her but, when Nicholas arranged a weekend away in the Muskokas to “take in the fall colors”, something she always thought pretentious and ridiculous, she was quick to agree.

They had been on short vacations together a few times, Lena feeling Sylvie’s disapproval from beyond the grave at the unmarried immorality of it all, and those had been something close to what Lena imagined normal folk would call fun. She felt safe with Nicholas. He could make her laugh and she loved the exhilaration and unconscious release and relief of a truly hearty laugh, something long absent from her life. In her usual solitary world, Lena talked to herself constantly – out loud, often to the amusement or concern of others – and, in so doing, would often make herself laugh out loud. Occasionally she’d wonder if this behavior was some sort of mental disorder, but she had so many diagnoses already and this quirkiness made her happy, often keeping her sane in what were insane conditions, that she left well enough alone. She was her own best company, and audience.

But, after Stella, Nicholas was beginning to make his mark in her hierarchy of those she loved and trusted.