Foraged

FORAGED

“Foraged?” I asked.

“Ya,” said Bridget, “foraged. Like picked in a forest. Food out of the woods."

“And you want Leon and I to come over for dinner tomorrow to eat these foraged mushrooms?”

“Exactly!” she said.

I was confused. Bridget was a friend of my partner Leon–well, not exactly Leon’s friend, per se, but more of a friend of his sister Hallie. Bridget and I were more like peripheral acquaintances. While Leon has known her for years, they’d never really socialized. Hallie was three years younger than Leon. Even after all those years, he still referred to her as “Hallie’s-friend-Bridget” as if it were one word. So, not that close. Or so I thought.

I checked my calendar. We were (unfortunately) free.

“Sure,” I said. “We’d love to.”

“Fantastic!” she said. “Seven o’clock. Leon knows the address.”

He does?

When I’d met Leon we were both in university. That was five years ago. We’d married after graduation, declined procreation in favour of dogs, and had a great place in the city.

It was a couple of years into our relationship before I actually met Bridget. It had not gone well. She ignored me when we’d been introduced, and literally threw herself at Leon.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she wailed, hugging him for way too long and way too tight.

Leon pried himself out of her grasp. “I saw you last month,” he’d said to her, a bit embarrassed at her display.

“A whole month! How could you leave me for that long!”

He rolled his eyes at me. “I didn’t leave you, I went home.” He held her out at arms’ length, turning her to look at me. “And this is Caroline.” He paused. “My fiancee."

I literally saw her stiffen. “Finacee?” she whispered.

“Yes. We’re getting married next month.” He looked at Hallie. “I’m surprised no one told you.”

Hallie just shrugged as if to say not my monkey, not my circus.

Bridget looked at me, said nothing, turned on her heel, left the room, left the house, and I guess, went home. That was three years ago, and to be honest, things have never been great between us since. She’d be okay if we meet in a group, but if it was only me, Leon, Bridget and Hallie, I might as well not be in the room.

Later that night when I met Bridget, Leon told me that she had a thing for him–ever since he was in high school.

Well, duh, Captain Obvious! A blind man galloping by on a horse could see that!

He was a senior when Bridget got to high school. She followed him everywhere. She left love notes in his locker. She showed up to all his basketball games. She’d wait for him at his car and beg him to drive her home. She’d come over to the house under the pretense of visiting Hallie, but would hang out with Leon and his buddies.

Leon assured me that not only had he not been interested in Bridget, he was completely embarrassed by her behaviour. It got to the point that he had changed his timetable so that he had last period off, so he could leave before she could camp out at his car. She was only fourteen years old! He assured me he wasn’t a creep.

And, apparently the ardore had not waned. She’d continued to insinuate herself into his life, and blatantly ignore me.

That’s why today’s invitation took me by surprise.

When I told Leon, he looked a bit surprised, then shrugged. “Maybe she wants to make amends.”

I furrowed my brow, but said nothing. If Leon wasn’t worried, I guess I shouldn’t be either. Right?

The next night, Leon drove us to Bridget’s apartment. We had brought a nice bottle of red wine. Red went great with mushrooms.

Bridget opened the door before we’d had a chance to knock.

“Welcome, welcome,” she gushed, staring intently at Leon. She stood aside and ushered us into her tiny bachelor apartment. It was crowded, and moderately tidy--at least there were no clothes lying around. I scanned the room. Mementos of Bridget’s life were scattered over shelves and on the wall. A few gave me pause. But, I smiled and soldiered on.

“Thanks for having us over,” I said, smiling.

“My pleasure!” she said, beaming, pulling out an office chair that had been part of the dining room table setup. “Have a seat.” She turned to Leon. “I’m afraid I don’t have much room. Why don’t you sit on the bed?” As he did, she plopped herself beside him.

Subtle, I thought.

I shook it off and turned to Bridget. “So, foraging?”

“That’s right!” she said. “It’s so interesting the things that you can eat from the forest! And it’s all free!”

I nodded. “How did you start foraging?”

She beamed again. “I took a course! It was amazing!” She turned to Leon. “You love the outdoors, Leon! You’d really enjoy the course. We should do one together!"

“Uh, Caroline likes nature, too,” said Leon, looking at me.

“Do you?” she said. “Who knew?” Again with that fake smile. I fake smiled back at her.

“Yes. I do. In fact, I’m a licensed wilderness guide.”

Bridget looked a bit shocked. “So … so you know foraging?”

I looked at her. Weird question, I thought. “No, but I can guide you anywhere there are no roads.”

“Ah,” she said, looking relieved.

Relieved?

“How do you know which mushrooms are good--you know, not poisonous?" I asked.

“Oh! There’s a book.” She smiled. “I always check with the book. A good forager always checks and double checks the book.”

“What else to you forage,” asked Leon, looking intently at Bridget.

“Oh, there’s so much …” She rambled on for the next five minutes. Just as she was starting in on how delicious stinging nettle could be, there was a ding from the kitchen. Bridget sprang to her feet and walked the three steps into her kitchen. As she walked through the door, she called over her shoulder, “Caroline, pull up to the table, and Leon, you’re going to have to sit beside me again!” She giggled as she disappeared into the kitchen.

I looked over at Leon and found him looking towards the kitchen.

“Well?” I asked.

He shook his head slightly. “Weird, but she is trying.”

She’s trying, all right!

Bridget came back into the room, carrying three bowls of salad. “Here we go! I foraged most of the ingredients! I hope you like it!”

I looked at the salad. I recognized the mushrooms, of course, dandelion, burok, wild mint, wild ginger, and a whole bunch of stuff I couldn’t identify. I deemed the salad safe-ish, drowned it in dressing, and only ate what I knew, and ignoring the mushrooms.

“You don’t like the salad,” said Bridget, a small pout on her face.

I smiled, pushing around the mystery ingredients. “I do! I just want to make sure that I have room for the main course.” Leon, I noticed, had cleaned his plate.

“Be right back, then, she said, grabbing our bowls, and heading to the kitchen.

A couple of minutes later, after a lot of banging and clanging, she came back carrying three plates. “Here we go! Mushroom stroganoff!!”

Leon and I ew-ed and ah-ed. Bridget smiled, her eyes bright.

“Oh! The wine!” she said. She turned to Leon. “Can you help me pour?”

He looked at me, and I nodded. “Sure,” he said, following her into the kitchen. I noticed that he opened a drawer without hesitation, and pulled out a corkscrew. I heard them whispering

Hmmm.

On the way home that night, Leon turned to me. “That wasn’t too painful,” he said.

“Yeah. Who knew she could be that nice to me.” I said.

At six a.m. Leon woke me up, his face pasty, covered in sweat.

“I’m sick,” he said as he dashed into the washroom. I could hear him vomiting. Then came the diarrhea.

“Oh God!” he said. “I’m so sick.”

I sat with him until the symptoms eased. When he was able to talk, I asked him if he thought it could be something he had eaten the previous night.

He looked at me suspiciously. “If it was, why aren’t you sick?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I didn’t eat as much as you, I guess.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t be sick.”

I quirked my eyebrow at him. “You shouldn’t be sick?”

He shook his head. “I’m not supposed to be sick.”

“Then who is, Leon? Was I supposed to get sick?”

He didn’t say anything. He just looked away, pain etching his face.

Three days later he was in a coma when I came to visit him in the hospital. It didn’t look good for poor old Leon–his organs were shutting down, and there wasn’t a thing anyone could do to help him. The doctor advised that we take him off of life support. I had agreed. This was my final good-bye.

I leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.

I spoke quietly. “I switched bowls with you at Bridget’s house. When you went in to help with the wine. By then I knew about the two of you–you knew her address, your stuff was all over her apartment. You even knew where the corkscrew was. I figured I was a marked woman. So, I switched bowls with you. If I was wrong, no harm, no foul. But if I was right …” I smoothed his hair on his forehead. “And I was right.” I could feel the tears in my eyes. “Your girlfriend’s in jail, charged with attempted murdher, soon to be upgraded to murder.” I looked at the medical staff waiting at the door. Another kiss to the forehead. “You screwed with the wrong woman, Leon.”

I got up and left the room.