Happenstance

Happenstance

Debra Loughead

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 9780228632641

Kindle 9780228632658

B&N Nook 9780228632665

PDF 9780228632672

Print ISBNs

Amazon Print 9780228632696

Ingram Spark 9780228632702

BWL Print 9780228632719

B&N Print 9780228632726

Copyright 2025 by Debra Loughead

Editor Nancy M Bell

Cover artist Pandora Designs

All rights reserved . Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

Dedication

For my family.

You all know who you are.

Be where you are, otherwise you will miss your life. Buddha

EMILY: Does anyone ever realize life while they live it...every, every minute?

STAGE MANAGER: No. Saints and poets maybe...they do some.

―Thornton Wilder, Our Town

Eight Years Ago — Tara

Mommy, where are we going? Can you tell me again?

I just told you Tara honey, we’re going on a little holiday. Only for a while.

And why can’t Daddy come with us?

I already told you that, too. Like three times already. He’s very busy. He has to work. He can’t come on this holiday. And besides, it’s a special getaway only for mothers and their children.

Will we be going on another holiday with my dad sometime soon? Like that time we went camping last summer and he pushed you down and you hurt your wrist. And it was an accident. Remember Mom?

Yes, I remember that very well Tara Bear. The one and only time we ever tried camping. I’m not sure we’ll ever be doing that again. It didn’t work out very well at all, did it?

So anyway, what’s it like there, where we’re going. And why do we have to take the bus. I’m hot. And my backpack is making me even sweatier. And the lady beside me has bad breath.

Shhh. Tara not so loud. We’re taking the bus because Daddy doesn’t know we’re going. It’ll be a big surprise for him. Sometimes daddies need to have a holiday from their families. And guess what? There’s lots of moms like me and kids like you where were going. It’s called Helena’s Haven. We might have to share a room with some other people. They’ll have toys and books for you to play with. And food and snacks. You’ll like it there, you’ll see.

And will you miss Daddy while we’re staying there? Will you?

Um...I’m not sure what to say about...

I won’t miss him, Mom. I plug my ears whenever he yells at us, and you yell back. And I don’t like it when he pushes you against the wall and says mean things. I always close my eyes.

I know, honey. I know. That’s why we need a little break right now. Here. Play with my phone for a bit. We’ll be there soon.

Eight years ago—Sophie

What’s wrong with Mom, Dhanu? Why won’t she stop crying?

She’s sad, Sophie, she’s oh so very sad, poor thing. Come, sit here beside me.

But why is she so sad? Why is she always staying in bed and crying? And never eating the food that you take up to the bedroom for her?

Because she’s a bit sick too, my dear. It’s called ‘depression’, the way she’s feeling now. She’s stuck in a place that she can’t get out of.

I think Jonah is stuck there too, and he’s scared. Every time he looks at Mom he starts crying. And he comes into my room at night and asks me what’s happening. But I don’t know. He hears Mom and Dad arguing in their room at night, like I do.

I’m sure he’s scared, Sophie. Your parents are going through something right now. But it will all turn out okay. Just wait and see. And try to be patient. She will feel better soon, I’m sure.

Is that why Daddy’s taking her to the hospital right now? Because she can’t stop crying and she won’t try to eat all her favourite food? Even macaroni and cheese and chocolate cake?

That’s right, my dear. It’s been going on for too long now. She needs help from doctors.

But when will she come back? I’ll miss her. At least you’ll be here though. I love that you came to live with us last year. I hope you stay forever. I love that you’re always here when Mom and Dad aren’t. It’s like you’re another mother for us, right?

I like to think of myself as your sister friend, Sophie. You can only really ever have one true mother who loves you more than anything else in the world.

I like that, Dhanu. We can be sister friends forever. I really hope Mom feels better soon though.

Me too, sister friend. Me too. That’s why I gave her my special moonstone ring to wear until she starts to feel better. For good luck and strength. It’s my most prized possession, you know.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

​

Chapter One

Tara

Pretending to be someone else for a while has its benefits. When you’re in an acting role, you get to live in a completely different world, in someone else’s skin. You can forget about your own issues and focus on your character’s problems. But I’ve had so much on my mind lately, that I just can’t get excited about my friend Priya’s newfound happiness over trying it for the first time.

I am so pumped for this, Tara. I didn’t think I’d ever be in a play! Priya says.

I promised you’d love it, I tell her. Now do you finally believe me?

On Thursday as we’re heading home from a rehearsal after school, I fake listening as Priya rambles on about being a cast member in the upcoming school production of Our Town. This is her very first play ever, and she’s totally caught up in the thrill of being on stage. Since I’ve been in a couple of school play productions in the past, I know that feeling all too well.

Warm April sunshine beats down on my head as I kick a random stone along in front of me. As usual, I’m not in a hurry to get home. I can never be sure which version of my mom will be waiting to greet me. The hopeful mom, chirping as she clatters around the kitchen fixing dinner? Or the one with sadness in her eyes, sitting at the table scratching lottery tickets, or the chipped polish off her fingernails.

Lost in negative thoughts, I watch the stone tumble along in front of me. It sort of feels like my life right now, just bumping along and not getting anywhere worthwhile. But when it rolls to a stop, my sparkle radar is on high alert. A shard of sunshine reflects off something glittery at just the right angle. A sudden flash and my eyes are instantly drawn to that gleam. I bend down to pick it up, and suck in my breath.

Wow, I whisper. Check this out, Priya. It’s amazing!

Beside me Priya lets out a soft whistle of surprise.

We both lean in for a closer look at the ring nestled in my palm. The stone shimmers like a pale oval moon in its silver setting. And on each shoulder, what looks to be a tiny diamond twinkles like starlight. To me it looks super expensive, but then again, I don’t know much about expensive things. But seriously, how can anyone possibly be so careless.

Oh my God, is that for real? It looks too nice to be fake, Priya says.

Come on, it can’t possibly be real. What clueless fool would ever lose something as lovely as this, whether it’s for real or not, though, right?

I inspect it closely, turn it over and over in my hand, instantly transfixed by the pearly opalescence of the stone. So gorgeous, so irresistible. Then I do it. Slip the ring on my finger and hold it up in the sunshine. It fits me perfectly. I can’t even imagine the possibility of ever owning something so lovely. This shiny thing already makes me feel like a completely different person.

Then for some reason I look over my shoulder, to see if anyone’s watching. The street is mostly deserted, except for a bus that just made a drop-off, and someone in the distance, running away fast. When I look back at Priya, she’s staring at me with her head tilted, as if she might be thinking things that I don’t want to hear. It almost feels like she’s judging me for something I haven’t even done.

What are you looking for, Tara? she says.

What am I looking for? What am I even thinking? Things that I’m not very proud of but can’t ignore. Mainly that I want to keep the ring and wonder if anybody else saw me pick it up.

Well duh, I tell her. Whoever dropped it, of course. What else would I be thinking?

Maybe it was her. Priya points to the figure too far off now to even see distinctly. That person in the school blazer who just got off the bus. Come on. Let’s try and catch up to ask them.

Catch up? Hmm. Lately my life is such a colossal disappointment, so un-sparkly. I’m not sure I’m ready to give up the ring just yet. Even the look of it on my finger makes my life seem just a little more glittery. Oh, too bad. Looks like it’s too late already.

Sure enough, the figure is fading into the distance. And then it’s hard to tell whether they turned a corner or disappeared into one of the identical brick bungalows that skirt the street. Or vanished into thin air. Someone magical, leaving me a gift to find? Hah. How I wish.

Guess I’ll just have to keep it now, huh? I offer a wobbly grin.

Hah, yeah right, Priya says. So, will you be taking it to the police station? Or maybe you could stick a sign on a lamppost like people do when they lose their pets?

Priya expects me to do the right thing. Because I always do the right thing. All my life, for my mom’s sake, since she has enough to deal with as it is. But maybe today can be different for a change. Maybe today, there are more possibilities, and maybe I can make a different choice, instead of being so predictable and always making the right one. Why does every single thing always have to be so hard to figure out? Why can’t I ever make a split second decision? Why?

Seriously, I bet it came out of a Cracker Jack box or a claw machine, I say, avoiding an answer about the sign. But when I hold it up to the sunlight again, I know I’m wrong. The way the sun sparkles on the facets of the stones makes it obvious. Clearly this ring isn’t a fake.

Let’s see it, Priya says. My mom inherited lots of expensive old family jewelry.

Reluctantly I slip it off and drop it into her hand. And I watch almost protectively as she turns it over and over to examine it up close. Because I already feel as if it belongs to me and I don’t want to part with it.

Look, it’s 18 karat gold. She points out an etching on the inside of the band. It says so on the hallmark.

Except that it’s silver, Pri, I remind her.

White gold looks silver. I can tell this is expensive. And for sure that’s a moonstone. Which comes from the same place that my family originates, in Sri Lanka. Those are diamonds, on the shoulders. Nothing twinkles the way diamonds do.

Wow I wish I owned a ring like this. But clearly that will never happen.

Well, I’ve heard that if you turn something in at the police station and nobody claims it, then eventually you get it back. That’s what I’d do, if I were you. Priya smiles as she drops the ring into my hand.

Hmm, that’s a good plan, I say, then wrinkle my nose. Maybe I’ll just wear it for tonight, then turn it in to the police tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll put up some signs. Not sure yet. Gosh I seriously can’t stop looking at it. I hold it up to the sunlight again, still transfixed.

Priya is frowning a bit. I’m not sure I like the way she’s looking at me, all judgy or something. You’re not thinking ‘finders keepers’, right?

Losers weepers. I frown back at her. What kind of person do you think I am anyway? I ask, forcing a grin as I slip the ring back on. Anyway, right now my finger really is the safest place for this awesome ring, right? Seeya tomorrow.

I head in one direction and Priya heads in the other. And I stare at that ring, watch it glimmer in the sunshine all the way home. I so wish it could be mine instead of someone else’s. So I could have it just to stare at whenever I want to cheer myself up. Because the sad fact is, I’m in desperate need of a sparkly makeover. If not a physical one, then for sure a mental one.

Over the past year, my mom has been trying hard to make our lives better after difficult times. She actually found the courage to kick my lame dad out of our lives forever. We were so sick and tired of his cruel yelling and bullying. I begged her to stay strong and make a move.

So, I was thrilled when she finally told him to leave so that the two of us could get on with a new chapter of our lives, and not have to worry anymore about what he might say or do next. He was always so unpredictable, it felt like we were constantly living on the edge. We hardly ever hear from him now, thankfully. But somehow it feels as if our lives still lack sparkle. One dreary day just seems to melt into the next. Nothing ever changes. Mom seems to be stuck in a brand new rut now too, and not trying hard enough to climb out and to actually get herself a life.

Most days, living with my mom, Marie Kowalchuk, who ditched her married last name, feels a bit like riding an upside down rollercoaster. Constantly bounced and jolted and jiggled, never knowing what sort of rush is around the next corner, depending on how her day went. She’s always had high hopes of becoming a certified esthetician and someday opening her own in-home salon. But that never took off, so she started applying for salon jobs instead.

The problem is, whenever she lands a job at a new salon, she leaves within a few days or weeks. She has all sorts of good excuses. Usually though, it’s because she disapproves of the lack of quality, the poor sanitary conditions. I admire her for her ethical stand but have a feeling she might be settling back into her gloomy blue funk, now that she’s adjusted to Dad being gone. The truth is, I’m sick of living on social assistance and always rolling coins to take to the bank. Sometimes I feel guilty for thinking she doesn’t try hard enough. But what could our lives be like if Mom worked even harder to make things better for us? I have my doubts that will ever happen though. She doesn’t seem to have the confidence she’d need to pull it off.

Just before stepping inside, I slip the ring off and hold it tight inside my fist. Nope, I’m not quite ready to part with it, because I’m not finished looking at it yet. I plan on holding it under my bedroom desk lamp to examine it even more closely. And to search online to find out everything I can about moonstones, and exactly how much a ring like this could be worth. Not that it matters much, since I’m turning it in. Eventually, anyway.

Silence greets me as I step through the front door of our townhouse. Mom promised she was going to the employment office to check out the job listings today. But she should have been home long ago. My heart lifts. Maybe she got herself a job straight off. Maybe she’s actually employed again and won’t be moping around the house feeling sorry for herself. Maybe I can stop worrying about her so much and focus more on myself for a change.

In the kitchen, I spot the note on the table. When I sit down to read it, my heart goes into a tailspin. Gone to the coffee shop. Back in a while. xoxo

I know exactly what that means. She’s meeting up with another guy. Somehow my mom believes that she needs a man in her life to feel fulfilled. I can’t figure out why. We’ve barely recovered from being mistreated by my dad. I still shudder at the thought of how we needed help from a shelter once. An unforgettable nightmare you’d never dream could happen to you. But the counselors there were kind to us. At least there was that.

So how can my mom possibly begin to trust someone else when she hasn’t even healed completely yet, and might never? Every single time she goes out to meet with someone she found on an online dating site, she leaves the house put together and smiling. And she inevitably comes home in a glum mood, with tear-streaked mascara.

Why does she keep on doing this to herself? And to me?

I slip the ring back on and throw a ham and cheese sandwich together for dinner. Then I sit at the table looking over my lines for the Our Town script, a prize-winning American play by Thornton Wilder. Personally, I think it’s the most depressing play ever, since in Act III pretty much everyone is dead. I didn’t get the main role that I wanted, ‘Emily Webb’, which an older student named Iris nailed, of course.

There was no point in Priya and me auditioning for the plum main roles anyway. The best parts went to the more experienced cast members. But the coolest surprise came when I was chosen as understudy for Emily because I’d been in plays before. What a thrill! It means learning a ton of lines and showing up at every rehearsal, but I’m okay with that. Memorizing lines gives me something to focus on, lets me turn into someone else for a while and forget about my drag of a life that’s weighing me down. And even though the possibility of having to step in for Iris gives me the jitters, it’s an honour to even be chosen.

The ring keeps catching my eye as I run over the ‘Emily Webb’ lines. I already know the part so well, that during rehearsals I whisper the lines along with Iris. Iris gets to act opposite Silas Symonds,