“Sorry. Kara, this is my mother. Mom, this is Kara. From the office.” I couldn’t remember — introduce the older person to the younger person? Family member to non-family member? Whatever the order, my mother’s eyebrows suggested I had screwed it up again.
“Kara! Very pleased to meet you.” Hug, kiss, kiss. I could see Kara was a little startled, but she took it well.
“Nice to meet you. Donnie talks about you all the time.”
Only a pretty lady like Kara could get away with a line like that.
“All lies.”
“He mentioned you were from Chicoutimi. My uncle was based out of CFB Bagotville.”
“Bagotville? Mais oui! I worked in Bagotville when I was-.”
Within three minutes, Kara had developed a better relationship with my mother than I have to this day.
“Hockey pucks.”
“Screw you.”
“I’m telling you. Throw ten in a bucket and I’ll take them to the rink tomorrow.”
“Doesn’t seem to be affecting your appetite.”
Ted waved the burger at me, his third. “I’ll eat anything. You know that.”
True. I had indeed burned a few of the burgers. But overall, things seemed to have gone OK. Hell, I had grilled a few plates of chicken breasts, and no one was on their knees vomiting. That was a personal success.
The weather had cooperated as well. Fifteen degrees was pretty good for mid-May in Ontario. Just a shade under sixty degrees Fahrenheit — hat and mitts weather in Jacksonville, t-shirt and shorts in the Great Lakes region.
“So what’s with this Kara babe?”
I glanced over at Kara, still ensconced in conversation with my mother, the two of them since joined by John Vranic and Jamar.
“She works at Arcane.”
“Get out.”
“She’s the receptionist. Does Dispatch too.”
“She’s the one with the potion? The love potion?”
Who the hell told him about that? I had never mentioned the love potion incident to Ted, and had never intended to. Last thing I needed was another piece of ammunition for him to fire at me daily. Shit, must have been Melodi Roberts. That’s if the story hadn’t made the rounds to every person at Hidden Pleasures by now.
“Yes.”
“Smokin’. So, you see her, like, everyday?”
“Yup. Have lunch with her once in a while, too.”
Ted gazed at her, a little too obviously for my comfort.
“Perky breasts, magnificent butt… she’s too good for you, man.”
In Ted’s mind, too good for Donnie meant perfect for Ted. As I said, the man is delusional.
“Don’t even think it.”
“What are you talking about? I can’t just walk away-.”
I moved in front of him, cutting off his stare and drawing his attention.
“I’m calling dibs.”
“You’re what? Ha-.” The laugh caught in his throat when he saw the look on my face.
“Man, you can’t do that!”
“The hell I can’t.”
The first time either of us had called dibs, I was seventeen and Ted was fifteen. He called dibs on a girl in his gym class. We had agreed to the system following an unfortunate event involving twin sisters which still haunts me to this day. It had, however, been at least 10 years since either of us had called on the rule.
“Dibs. She’s got a boyfriend. But if that ever changes, I have dibs.”
“Man, she’s not going to go with you anyways. You already messed up big time with that stupid potion!”
“Maybe. But I’m calling dibs.”
“Look. Even if you hadn’t screwed up, you’ve still got to ask them out. When was the last time you did that?”
“I don’t care. I like her.”
“She works for you.”
“I know. I’m still trying to figure that out.”
“Wait a second, what about that chick you were talking to yesterday? The cop?”
Jesus, had he tapped my phone now?
“Dibs on both of them.”
“Wow. Kinky.” He smirked. “OK. Chances are you’re going to bomb out with at least one of them. Hedging your bets, huh?”
He knew me too well.
“Fair enough.” He peered over my shoulder. “Alright. Dibs it is. But I call dibs on Mrs. Jarvis.”
I snorted, loud enough that a few heads turned in my direction, including my mother’s. Up shit creek again.
I was the last to eat, and piled my plate high with a burger, chicken breast, spinach salad with bacon dressing, and a spoonful of pasta salad. Cradling the plate, utensils, napkin and an unopened but ice-cold Sleeman’s, I maneuvered my way down to the lower tier of the deck and balanced each item on top of the railing. I was mid-bite on the burger when my mother appeared at my side.
“Please tell me you are not going to eat all of that.”
“Mmfff.” I coughed, sending a fine spray of hamburger towards the Valley floodplain.
“Close your mouth when you eat. Mon Dieu.”
Ah. How I enjoy these tender moments with my mother.
“Hey.”
And Ted, too. Could it get any better?
“Kara is a lovely girl.”
“Hm.” Neither Ted nor I said anything, sensing danger looming over the horizon.
“She works at your company?”
“Yes. Dispatch and Reception.”
“And Lamar?”
“Jamar. Yup. He works part-time as a driver. Goes to U of T.”
“These are very nice people. You had better treat them well.”
Ted eyed me suspiciously over her shoulder, as if to say he would be watching me too.
“And don’t think I can’t see you there.”
“What?”
“Every time I try to talk to your brother about anything serious, you…”
Adopted. Or maybe I was a test-tube baby. That was it. Donated egg and sperm, a famous actress and her billionaire husband. Must be.
The brief spat having petered out, the three of us admired the view in silence. Ted picked stray pasta noodles off my plate.
“Nice spot, huh?”
It was that. Clay’s lot was deep, and the two level cedar deck extended a third of the way to the back fence, a low driftwood affair that could not possibly be to local code. One advantage, though, was that the view was unobstructed.
A gradual slope led down to the floodplain of the river. The slope was populated with a mixture of ash and maple, but I spotted the paper curled bark of a few birch interspersed here and there. The ground was undulating, fallen branches and leaves mixing with the natural undergrowth to form an organic quilt. The floodplain beyond was similar, but included a few big willows, fifty feet plus and a good yard wide at the trunk. Then came the river, the smooth surface broken here and there by ripples.
“Hard to believe the natives hunted and fished along here, huh? From Lake Ontario to Georgian Bay. Then, in the 1800s, the good old white man bought the land, and set up a trading post at the mouth of the Credit. De-forested the whole region.”
I stared at Ted, dumbfounded by the words coming from his mouth.
“What? Not all TV is crap, you know. Anyways, looks like nature has battled back, huh?”
It had, at that. The Valley was a restful calm in the midst of suburban rush — peaceful running water and banks of foliage.
“Beautiful.”
For once, I knew exactly what my mother meant.
As we drank in our surroundings, we were gifted with a special moment. Maybe it was the peaceful spell that caused her to step out. Or maybe it was divine intervention. In any event, a white-tailed deer — a doe — peeked around the trunk of a tree, then trotted into view.
My mother clutched my arm, but we watched on quietly. She was a beauty. Grey-brown coat with the distinctive white under the tail. She nosed through the undergrowth, foraging for just the right leaves or shoots and pausing to munch when she found something worth eating.
We learn from very young that time is absolute. A day has twenty-four hours. You have a birthday once a year. No one lives forever. But at that moment, it was clear to me that time is relative. Those few seconds, maybe fifteen or twenty at most, they were the longest, most peaceful, most content seconds I had known in a long time.