Stacey dropped her textbooks and looked around the kitchen.
"Who am I kidding? I cannot take courses, work full-time, and raise three kids! I must be out of my mind!"
She rolled up her sleeves and started filling the sink with hot soapy water, mulling the problem over. It had seemed like a good idea at first. The job in the college office provided enough to keep everyone fed, and the free tuition on any course offered seemed too good an opportunity to miss.
But the juggling act was another matter.
"Stephen," she muttered. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to forgive you for dying on me."
She glanced toward the photos on the refrigerator, focusing on the snapshot of her husband taken five years ago—in one hand a fishing rod, in the other a sardine-sized fish—and a huge grin on his face. It had been taken the day before Stephen drowned in a boating accident. Stacey had intended to have it nicely framed, but now it seemed a permanent fixture on the fridge.
"I've come a long way, Babe," she informed the faded photo. "You'd be proud of me. I'm a wiz on the computer and I got a raise last week. It's not what you made, but nobody's going hungry. You'd be proud of the kids, too. Daniel's coach says he really shows a lot of potential. Luke's got his driver's license and Jenny's really brought her marks up this semester.
"But I'm thinking of dropping these courses. I'm exhausted and the house is always a pigpen. I have no time to help the kids with homework because I'm trying to do mine... sometimes I take my textbooks to their games and study instead of watching them play!! Yet it seems foolish to not take advantage of this opportunity to further my education! What should I do?"
The man in the photograph continued to grin.
Stacey sighed, finished the dishes, pulled the trash bag from beneath the sink and headed out the back door. Flushed from the dishwater, she didn't grab a jacket but welcomed the frosty winter air as she added her bag to the trash can. She was greeted with wild tail-wagging by Cindy, the stray mongrel the kids had adopted.
"You seemed like a good idea at the time, too," she told Cindy as she gave her a quick rub and headed in, chilly now.
With one hand on the doorknob and one leg extended to keep Cindy outside, Stacey realized with a groan that she'd locked herself out! She ran around to the front door, praying that she'd find it unlocked.
No such luck.
"Sure hope somebody's home at Murray and Christine's," she muttered, heading next door.
She rang the bell and tried the knob without waiting for an answer. "Thank goodness."
She let herself into her neighbour's kitchen and called out. "Christine? I've locked myself out of the house and I'm freezing! I need your key! Christine? Murray?"
The house was silent and Stacey felt like a criminal, but she had to get back into her house!
Inching her way into the hall, she suddenly found herself nose-to-chest with a man she'd never laid eyes on before. She stood speechless, staring up at him like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Hi." The stranger smiled at Stacey.
Hi? she thought. Who is this intruder? Her mind calculated the number of steps to the door and which direction she'd run once she got out.
"Looking for someone?"
"Who are YOU?" Stacey asked.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" the stranger replied, still grinning.
"I'm, uh....from next door and I'm locked out of my house. Murray and Christine keep a key here...somewhere..." she stammered, realizing she'd revealed way too much. Maybe a little fib would be a wise move.
"My husband works the night shift, so he's sleeping and I didn't want to wake him," she lied, hoping her guilty conscience wasn't written on her face.
"You lock yourself out a lot, do you?" he asked.
The stranger seemed amused, turning Stacey's fear to annoyance. "No—never. I just…uh… well, they have my key—our key—and I have theirs… and we look after each other's stuff when…" Suddenly her defensive posture seemed inappropriate.
"Who are you?" she demanded with false bravado.
"Murray's brother. From Saskatoon."
"You don't look like Murray," she accused.
"I'm adopted. Nobody's home and I wouldn't know where your key is." He was still grinning that stupid grin. "You could likely reach one of them at work."
"I'll do that," Stacey replied, never feeling more stupid as she picked up the phone and started dialing Christine's work number. Murray's-brother-from-Saskatoon watched her. Wrong number. Oh no, oh no, I'm dying a thousand deaths here, Stacey thought as she tried to recall the number. This stranger was rattling her nerves! "Would you...happen to have one of their phone numbers?"
"Christine's is on the bulletin board right in front of you," he said, obviously with no intention of moving. Stacey finally contacted her friend, located her own house key under a small flower pot, and silently headed home.
"Guess they'll have to kill me or find a new hiding spot now," Murray's-brother-from-Saskatoon called as she let the door bang shut behind her.
"Smart aleck," Stacey muttered, letting herself in and heading for the bathroom. As the water warmed her hands, she caught her reflection in the mirror.
"Oh no." A black streak—whether from the garbage or the dog, Stacey couldn't tell—ran across one cheek and over her nose. She grabbed a wash cloth and started scrubbing. No wonder that creep had looked so amused! Stacey felt like a twelve year old; her humiliation relieved only by the thought she'd never see this guy again. When the kids arrived home with all their noise and activity, Stacey quickly forgot the incident.
"How are you finding your latest computer course?" Becky asked Stacey the next morning at work.
"Good...but I find it tough keeping up at home," Stacey said, convinced the newly wed Becky could not possibly understand.
"I'm going to tackle Accounting 2 again now that we have a new instructor. That last one was impossible!" Becky chattered on. Stacey liked the younger woman, but wished she wouldn't make small talk when there was work to do. She kept her eyes on her computer screen, hoping Becky would take the hint. She was glad when the college director walked in.
"Becky, Stacey, I'd like you to meet Graham Douglas. He'll be teaching our Accounting courses." Stacey looked up to welcome the new instructor. Her heart sank to her toes. Graham Douglas was none other than Murray's brother from Saskatoon!
Stacey watched Graham Douglas shake hands with Becky and then turn his attention toward her, the amused expression returning to his face. The boss noticed. "I take it you two have met?"
"Not officially," he extended his hand. "You are....?"
Stacey sat speechless until Becky couldn't stand it. "This is Stacey Simonson. You'll be seeing her in the morning shift." Stacey managed to rise and shake the man's hand.
"Nice to meet you, Stacey." Was that deliberate mockery or a subconscious swiping of fingers lightly across his nose and cheek as he turned back to the boss? Stacey's phone rang and, glad for the diversion, she picked it up and tried to sit down. Unaware that her chair had wheeled away, she hit the floor with a most unladylike thud, banging the telephone receiver on the desk on her way down. Now three pairs of eyes were on Stacey as she tried to regain her dignity, apologizing to the caller. She waved Becky away and ignored the other two people in the room, fully aware that her face and neck were bright red. She didn't see Graham Douglas again for the rest of the day.
"Chill out, Mom," advised 15-year old Jenny that evening when Stacey launched into one of her tirades about the clutter. "It's not that bad! Besides, we can live with a little mess while you finish your classes. You can't have everything, you know."
Stacey rubbed her bruises, still aching from the clumsy fall at the office. Her daughter's little lecture angered, amused, and shamed her all at once. Angered because the kids didn't care about the condition of the house. Amused that Jenny was taking this stance. And shamed because she knew Jenny was right. The house was clean enough to be healthy even if it wasn't up to Stacey's usual standards. The kids did pitch in, and these courses would come to an end. In fact, she had only two more to go before completing the certificate! It was then that she realized one of her remaining courses would be taught by the new accounting instructor, Graham Douglas. She tried to shake the thought from her mind. I'll cross that awkward bridge when I get to it, she thought.
"Thanks, Jenny. I guess this isn't killing anyone or anything, except my pride." She smiled at her daughter and dug into her homework assignment with new determination.
"Mom, Mrs. Douglas is here," Daniel announced from the next room. Stacey looked up to see her neighbour standing in the doorway, a red dress draped over her arm.
"Hi Christine!" Stacey welcomed her friend.
"Hi, Stacey! Just returning this...thanks for the loan. I guess you found your key?"
"Yeah." Stacey retrieved the key. "Here, you better take it back. Never know when I might do something dumb like that again. But this time, please tell me where you hide it. Murray's brother gave me quite a start."
Christine looked shocked.
"Murray's brother? What do you mean?"
Stacey tried to explain the embarrassing encounter of the previous day, but Christine interrupted.
"Stacey, I don't know what you're talking about. Murray has a brother, but his name is Mark. He lives in Vancouver and we haven't heard from him in six years!"
Stacey sat in front of her computer in the college office, biting her nails and trying to prepare contracts for next term's line-up of instructors. All she could think about were the events of the night before. Once again, she had turned to the fishing photo of her late husband, grinning as he held up his tiny catch.
"Stephen, I just don't know what to think. If Graham Douglas isn't Murray's brother, who is he? Why do they have the same last name? What was he doing in Murray and Christine's house, alone, in the middle of a work day, without their knowledge? Most of all, why was Christine so evasive when I suggested we go straight to the police to report him? Instead, she told me to say or do nothing until she had a chance to discuss it with Murray. What's that all about?" She sighed. "If you were here, I suppose you'd tell me to mind my own business."
It was now the following day and Stacey still had not heard from her neighbours. She'd spent the night in restless tossing, wondering about the stranger and dreading seeing him at work the next day. What were her responsibilities to her employer? If Graham Douglas was an imposter—and guilty of trespassing in her neighbours' home—didn't she have some obligation to tell the director what she knew? The problem was, what did she really know? Nothing!
She felt helpless to do anything, yet somehow caught in the middle of something sinister. With a sigh, she reached for the next sheet in her inbox, detailing information she needed to complete Graham Douglas' teaching contract. His address and phone number were missing and it occurred to Stacey that she might now have a legitimate reason to do a little snooping.
"Becky," she asked her co-worker. "Do you have an address and phone number for this new Accounting instructor, Graham Douglas?
"No. But when you find it, let me know. I think he's adorable."
"Becky, you're married. Besides, he's too old for you." Why did Stacey feel a pang of possessiveness at Becky's remark?
"I know," was all she'd say. "I'm going for lunch."
With that, she walked out into the bright winter sunshine and Stacey was left alone in the office. Behind her was the door to the director's office, and just on the other side of that, a file folder that just might provide some answers.
Just as she approached her boss's office door, a student walked in to register for his next class. Stacey went to the counter instead, assisted him through the process and rang his tuition through the cash register. When he left, she was alone again.
She approached her boss's office, went inside, and opened the drawer marked "Instructors: A – G". The file was easy to find. Stacey pulled it out and began skimming the information on the job application inside. Concentrating on the paper in front of her, she didn't hear her boss come around the corner with Graham Douglas at her side. The two were deep in conversation about the course schedule and didn't notice Stacey at first. It gave her just enough time to return the file and close the drawer.
And to establish the identity of Graham Douglas.
The college director looked up from the papers she held with surprise.
"Stacey!"
Stacey decided to go with bravado and a big smile.
"Hi, Boss!" she beamed. "Graham Douglas, just the man I need to see!"
She brushed right past them both and marched over to her own desk. "I need your address in order to complete your contract."
Graham gave her the address of a local apartment and asked whether she was looking forward to starting his Accounting class that afternoon.
"I haven't had time to give it much thought," Stacey said.
That much was true. She'd thought of little all day except the identity of the man in front of her, whom she now knew was indeed Murray's brother, Mark. Under "full name of applicant" his application form had clearly said "Mark Graham Douglas." Stacey had read enough of his resume to see he'd been a teacher in Sasktoon, so that part was also true. Why he was now going by Graham was still a mystery, as was the strange behaviour of Murray and Christine.
Stacey learned something in her first accounting class in spite of the distracting puzzle surrounding the instructor. She found herself caught up in the world of debits and credits until class was dismissed. Graham was a good teacher, and perhaps proving herself a competent student would diminish the awful embarrassment of their first two meetings. It would not, however, explain the relationship with his brother and sister-in-law!
As she gathered her books and papers, she was tempted to just confront the man. But what could she possibly say? She watched him for a second, his head bent over another student's book as he skillfully answered a question. In spite of everything, she was beginning to see Becky's point about this man—although "adorable" might be taking it a little far.
Stacey pulled into her driveway and walked over to her neighbours' house without stopping at her own. She knocked on Murray and Christine's door and was invited inside.
"Murray, I know Graham is your brother Mark," she stated firmly. "Please tell me what's going on. This man is now both my fellow employee and my teacher and I'd really like to know if he's done something horrible! Why was he in your house the other day without your knowledge?"
"Sorry we haven't got back to you, Stacey," Murray muttered, pouring her a cup of coffee. "You can relax about Mark. He hasn't done anything wrong and I knew he was here. He needed a place to hang out until he could move into his own apartment."
Stacey looked back and forth between Murray and Christine. "I don't understand. Why didn't you know, Christine? And why did you say you hadn't heard from him in six years?"
"I wasn't lying to you, Stacey. I didn't know he was here, and I really hadn't seen or heard from him in six years. It's very complicated. Please just let it go."
Stacey finished her coffee in awkward silence, wishing her friends would trust her more. Family secrets aside, the curiosity surrounding her new colleague might just do her in!
She arrived home to discover her kitchen looking like a war zone. Luke, Daniel, and Jennifer had each made themselves something different to eat and taken off for their various activities and after-school jobs, leaving Stacey with the mess.
No point in cooking supper for everyone," Stacey sighed. She ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and cleaned up the kitchen. Putting things away in the refrigerator, she frowned. Where the photo of her late husband had hung for five years was now just an empty spot on the fridge door. She looked around the kitchen, but no photo of Stephen was in sight.
Graham Douglas entered the college office with a stack of photocopying. Stacey kept her eyes on her computer, while Becky was more than happy to pepper the man with questions.
"How do you like it here? Ever live in a small town before? What do you think of our weather?"
Graham laughed. "I like it fine. Got myself a decent apartment, no trouble with the neighbours. Well, except for one day at my brother's house."
Stacey started an intense search through her roladex for an excuse to turn her back on the pair.
"Can you recommend a good church?" Graham asked.
"Not me," answered Becky. "Ask Stacey, she goes to church all the time, don't ya, Stace?"
"Huh? Uh—oh, yeah. I usually go." Stacey shrugged. She would NOT invite this man to her church! Wasn't it enough she saw him five days a week?
"No, I don't think I'd like her kind of church," Graham said.
At this, Stacey couldn't help but look the man in the eye. How dare he?
"Apparently, they encourage single women to invent husbands and tell lies," he told Becky with a grin. "That just can't be right."
Stacey thought back to the day at Murray and Christine's house when she'd felt so trapped. "That was in self defense," she explained. "For all I knew, you were an axe-murderer!"
Graham was laughing. "I know. Well, how about it? Does your church open its doors to the likes of me?"
Stacey wrote the name and address of her church on a slip of paper and handed it to Graham while Becky grinned from ear to ear.
Sunday morning Stacey tried on three outfits before church.
"Good grief, what is wrong with me? He likely won't even show up and so what if he does?" She convinced herself that her only concern was to convey some self-dignity. Once she established that she was not a bumbling idiot, she'd relax and forget about him. Ashamed of herself, she determined to worship God instead of scanning the premises for Graham Douglas.
"Lord," she prayed silently from her pew. "The mystery between Graham and his family is none of my business. But it seems like every encounter we've had has been clouded with some kind of embarrassment and shame. Please give me wisdom to relate to him in a mature fashion and if there's any way I can help the situation, show me. And PLEASE help me find my picture of Stephen!"
After the service, Stacey visited with friends in the parking lot. She was about to get into her car when she heard "Hi, Stacey! Care to introduce the new stranger in town?"
Graham sauntered over and Stacey introduced him to her children and their friends. "I didn't realize you'd come," she said.
"I was about two rows behind you," he smiled. "Good service. Do Murray and Christine ever come?"
"No. I'll admit I was a little surprised you wanted to come."
"An axe-murdering, trespassing heathen like me?"
"No! That's not what I meant—" Stacey fumbled. She was glad when she was interrupted.
"Mom, can I drive?" piped up Luke. As Stacey handed over her keys, they slipped from her fingers into the snow. Bending to retrieve them, her head collided with Graham's as he, too, bent to pick up the keys in an attempt at chivalry.
"Ouch! Sorry!" they both stood, rubbing their heads. Graham smiled and handed Luke the keys. "I'll see you at work, Stacey." He turned toward his car, still rubbing his head.
"Graham, wait."
If she hadn't heard them for herself, Stacey wouldn't have believed the next words were her own.
"Would you like to have lunch with us? We have a roast in the oven. And aspirin in the cabinet!"
Graham grinned. "Yeah, you bet. Thanks. I guess I know where you live."
"Mom, the house is a mess," Jenny whispered through clenched teeth.
Stacey just smiled. "I know. He'll just have to take us as we are."
"Okay, here's the drill." Stacey went over the plan of action on the way home from church. Luke, you're clearing all the shoes away from the front door. Jenny, you're tidying up the bathroom. Daniel, please set the table for five. No dawdling!"
By this time they'd pulled into their driveway and as Stacey unlocked her front door, Graham Douglas pulled up behind. So much for the drill. They filed inside, hung up coats and welcomed Graham into the mess. Stacey was just pulling the roast from the oven when she heard a commotion at the front door.
"Well, isn't this cosy." It was Christine's voice and she was not happy.
Stacey recruited Jenny to work on lunch preparations and went to the living room where a heated debate was already in progress between Christine and Graham, except she was calling him Mark.
"I don't know what kind of sneaky plan you think this is, Mark, but you cannot use our friends and neighbours to get to Murray and me! Did you think I wouldn't see you over here?" Christine was outright yelling. Stacey had never seen her like this.
"Christine, what's going on?"
"Maybe you're the one who ought to be answering that question, Stacey! What did this guy do to weasel his way in here?"
"Nothing. He's new in town, he was at church this morning, I thought I'd invite him for lunch."
"Church! That's a laugh!" Christine turned back to Graham. "You'll stoop to anything, won't you? What a conniver. I want you to go home right now and stay away from this neighbourhood. And Stacey, do NOT make friends with him. He's just manipulating you, your church, whatever he thinks he can use to get to us."
Graham took a deep breath. "Christine, I had no intention of bothering you. I simply accepted a generous lunch invitation and I intend to stay—unless Stacey asks me to leave."
Stacey studied her neighbour's red face. They'd been friends for years and it felt horrible to be taking sides, but Christine's behaviour just didn't seem justified. Obviously, there was a lot more going on than Stacey knew.
"Stay for lunch, Graham," she said firmly. "Christine, I'm sorry if I've offended you but I think I can invite whomever I choose into my home. And until you decide to explain what this is all about, I have no reason not to share a simple meal with Graham."
With that, Christine glared one last time at Graham and left the house in silence, giving the door a healthy slam behind her.
"Everything's ready!" Jenny called from the kitchen.
"I'll explain everything over lunch," Graham said as he and Stacey turned toward the kitchen.
Luke said grace for the meal, and as the potatoes were passed around, Graham wasted no time.
"I'm Murray's brother by adoption," he began. "I always knew I was adopted but it wasn't until seven years ago I began a search for my birth-mother. It didn't take long to find her, but the shock of it was we had already met—at Murray and Christine's wedding, where I was the best man and she was mother of the bride."
"Wait a minute," Stacey looked up from her plate. "Your birth mother is Christine's mother? Christine is your sister?"
"Half sister," Graham corrected. "I was born and given up for adoption when our mother was just a teenager. Later, she married and had Christine. She never told her family about me, never searched for me, and never suspected how our families had became linked."
"So, you're Murray's brother AND you're Christine's brother?" Daniel asked. "That's weird!"
"Yes, it's weird all right," Graham agreed. "It was too much for Christine to handle. She begged me not to tell anyone, especially Murray. I think it was her mother she was most upset with, for keeping this secret so long, but it was easier to take it all out on me. I was the one who had rocked the boat."
"What happened?" Stacey asked.
"The truth eventually all came out, but by that time I'd moved to Vancouver and started going by my middle name."
"But why? You didn't do anything wrong," Jenny observed.
"I didn't see it that way," Graham said softly. "Shame is a complicated thing. I felt confused and rejected, like I no longer fit in my own family. I decided it was best to just flee and try to 'find myself,' as they say."
"And did you?" Stacey asked.
"Yes, I think so. But I found something even better along the way."
"Congratulations to YOU-U-U…"
The final strains of the noisy discord hung in the air as Stacey looked around the room at the familiar faces helping her celebrate her achievement. Her boys, urging her to cut the cake, and Jenny, urging her to open gifts. Friends from church. Co-workers Becky and Graham. And her next door neighbours, Murray and Christine.
Six weeks had passed since the day Graham shared his story with Stacey. The journey back to his family had been a long one, but well worth it. After leaving Vancouver and moving to Saskatoon, Graham had sought relief for his loneliness in a church where he was introduced to God.
"God," he'd explained, "was my Father and my Counselor. Not only that, he called me 'friend.' I desperately needed all three. I learned that he loved me and would never abandon me, no matter what. He gave me courage and put me on the road back to my family."
Through it all, Graham had also respected Christine's wishes and kept their secret for six years. Once Stacey was able to help her appreciate that fact, Christine's heart gradually softened toward her brother and she hesitantly agreed to attend this graduation party, knowing Graham would be there.
"Open it, Mom." Jenny was pushing a gift into Stacey's hands.
Stacey tore off the wrappings and sucked in her breath. Inside was a beautiful picture frame, matted and ready for hanging. The photo in the centre was of her husband, Stephen, holding up a tiny fish—the same photo that had mysteriously disappeared from the fridge door after hanging there for so long.
"You kept talking about getting that thing framed," Jenny said. "But I gave up on you. Sorry I fibbed when you asked us if we knew where it was."
"Oh, thank you!" Stacey was touched. While she'd missed the presence of the photo in recent weeks, she'd also noticed she was doing more talking to God and less to Stephen. And that, she knew, was a good thing. She passed the picture around and began dishing up cake.
"I'd like to propose a toast," Murray was saying as he held up his glass. "To Stacey. She's worked really hard, finished her course load, and earned her certificate. May they give you a big fat raise."
Everyone laughed and drank to Stacey, and then Christine spoke.
"I'd like to say something, too. Stacey's not the only one getting an education recently." She was holding the photo of Stephen. "I remember the day Stephen caught this. It was his only catch of the day, and by far the smallest of anyone's. But he didn't let that embarrass him. He couldn't have been prouder. I've learned some things lately, with Stacey's help, and yours too, Graham. I'm learning that shame and secrets only make matters worse and bring more hurt to people. There's a better way to live. Here's to you, Stacey."
Stacey wiped a tear from her cheek and watched as Graham studied the photo of Stephen.
"Life is meant to be celebrated," he said. "Little fish, big fish. Family. New friends. Achievements. And spring!"
With that, he reached behind the couch and pulled out the biggest bouquet of tulips Stacey had ever seen. "Congratulations, Stacey!"
Stacey accepted the flowers and a hug, looking over Graham's shoulder and out through the window. The last of the snow had melted and the promise of spring had indeed come to her home and to her heart.