The Weight of Blood

by D. B. Carew

  “Waffles! They come with strawberries for dipping in chocolate and whipped cream. I like them the best.”

  “Yum! I think I’ll order the same.”

  Ann Marie giggled in delight. “Daddy always gets the sausage and eggs, but I think the waffles are better.”

  “Sounds like he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

  Chris listened to their cheerful banter and grinned. He was nervous the first few times Stephanie joined them on their Saturday outings, wondering how his daughter would get along with her. Truth be told, Ann Marie had appeared quiet and reserved toward Stephanie during their early visits, but by now it was apparent they were beginning to forge a bond of their own. Stephanie was a natural around children.

  When their meals arrived, Ann Marie showed Stephanie her special technique for dipping strawberries in chocolate sauce. She laughed at Stephanie’s messy attempt to do the same. “You’ve got chocolate on your chin!”

  “I guess I need more practice.”

  “I’ve had lots of practice.”

  “Practice makes perfect.”

  “That’s what Daddy says!”

  “I do.” Chris looked at Ann Marie. “Maybe we’ll have to bring Stephanie here more often so she gets better at dipping the strawberries. What do you say?”

  “Yes!” Ann Marie shrieked.

  “Uh-oh. Looks like the sugar’s kicking in.” Chris grinned. “So tell me, Sweetie, what are you looking forward to the most at the aquarium?”

  “The sea otters, no, the sea lions!”

  “I’ve never seen the sea lion show, so that’s what I’m looking forward to,” Stephanie said.

  “I want to show you,” Ann Marie declared. “But we can’t get too close or we’ll get wet,” she cautioned.

  Chris locked eyes with Stephanie and they both smiled.

  They left the restaurant and drove to the aquarium in Vancouver’s Stanley Park. True to her word, Ann Marie took Stephanie by the hand and they both walked eagerly to grab the best vantage point for the show. As it began, Chris couldn’t tell who was more excited. They spent the next two hours after the show touring the facility and exploring the vast array of creatures native to the West Coast.

  Chris was pleasantly exhausted as they exited the aquarium and their eyes adjusted to the bright sunny afternoon.

  “Can we walk along the seawall, Daddy?”

  “Where do you get the energy?” Chris laughed and looked at Stephanie, who nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  Approaching the harbourfront area, they were met by hundreds of tourists looking happily lost after disembarking from a massive cruise ship. They stopped to take in the spectacle of seaplanes coming and going against the backdrop of the majestic North Shore Mountains while seagulls soared through the blue, cloudless sky.

  After their walk, they decided to go for a drive to visit a few of Chris’ old neighbourhoods in Vancouver. The first was an apartment building not far from the Main Street SkyTrain station. Chris had lived there for a couple of years when he was in his mid-twenties, and Ann Marie pleaded with him to tell Stephanie the story about the mouse that had taken up residence with him during one wet winter. Ann Marie squealed in mock horror as her father recalled the noise it made running over his tile floor in the middle of the night.

  Next he drove past the ritzy apartment building in Kitsilano where he’d moved as a response to his previous rodent-infested suite. He had fond memories of ordering pizza from the Flying Wedge on Cornwall Avenue and running the route from Kitsilano Beach to Jericho Beach. He recalled, too, the countless hours he’d spent at Kitsilano watching boats sailing in the sparkling waters of Burrard Inlet.

  Sharing this moment with his daughter and Stephanie filled Chris with contentment. He thought back to the last time he’d been at Kitsilano Beach and his mood suddenly turned somber when he realized it had been after visiting his patient Paul Butler in the hospital after Paul had been brutally assaulted by Ray.

  Even in my most joyful moments, Chris thought bitterly, the mere thought of Ray shatters my serenity and crushes my sense of security. It took a great deal of effort, using breathing exercises and replacing negative thoughts with positive ones, but eventually he managed to banish Ray from his mind for the moment and returned to pleasant thoughts of his loved ones.

  By the time Chris returned to Deanna’s house, Ann Marie had fallen asleep in the truck. He carried his daughter to her room and updated Deanna on their day. Now he was looking forward to spending his evening with Stephanie.

  Chris lay beside Stephanie in her bed.

  “I had a good time, Chris.”

  “Thank you, thank you very much,” Chris said in a bad Elvis impersonation. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

  “Not that! I mean today, with Ann Marie.” Stephanie playfully hit him on the arm.

  “I know,” he laughed. “You were great with her. She really likes you.”

  “I like her, too. She’s a good kid.” She suddenly became silent.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I was just thinking about something, that’s all.”

  “Come on, what is it?”

  “I saw how great you were with Ann Marie. She adores you, Chris. You’re a good father. And I really felt like we were a family today. It was nice.”

  “It was nice. You’d be a great mother.”

  She looked Chris in the eye. “That’s been on my mind a lot lately, being a mother, having a family. I think we’d make good parents.”

  “You’re thinking about a baby?”

  “Well, yeah. Have you thought about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “Why not?”

  Chris thought she sounded slightly defensive. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m happy with the way things are right now.”

  “But how would you feel if we did have a baby? I don’t mean right now, obviously there’s too much going on right now, but some day. I’m not getting any younger.”

  Chris realized their discussion had quickly shifted from a light, hypothetical conversation to a serious one. “I hadn’t really thought about being a new father again. Are you saying you want to get pregnant?”

  Stephanie appeared flustered now. “The way you ask makes me feel like you think it’s wrong.”

  “It’s not wrong, of course not. I’m just, well, surprised, that’s all.”

  “Why does it surprise you?”

  “I guess I thought maybe we’d move in together first before we took things any farther than that. I mean, we haven’t really talked about it.”

  “I drop hints all the time but you don’t ... oh, just forget I mentioned it.” Stephanie looked away.

  Chris put his arms around her. “I love you, Stephanie. I just get, I don’t know ... scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “Of being responsible for someone so fragile, making sure nothing bad ever happens. It scares me sometimes, thinking back to all that’s happened. I wouldn’t want to go through that again.”

  “Are you talking about Ray?”

  Chris reluctantly nodded.

  “But he’s in jail.” Stephanie gave him a bewildered look. “That part of your life is over, Chris. We have a whole new life ahead of us now. It’s going to be fine. Okay?”

  “Okay.” He got out of bed and started getting dressed.

  “You’re not staying?” She frowned. “Did my talk about wanting a family frighten you?”

  “No. Sorry. I want to stay—really, I do. I just don’t think I’ll be able to sleep and I don’t want to keep you up, too. I’ll call you when I get home.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Love you.”

  Chris’ gloomy feeling followed him home that night. He grabbed a Granville Island Pilsner from the fridge, shuffled his iPod, and crashed on his futon. Pike’s “Convicts in the Sky” echoed through his apartment.

  The ringing phone distracted him from his beer. He wanted to ignore it, but he thought it might be Stephanie. He wa
s feeling guilty for bailing on their evening and knew he owed her an apology.

  It wasn’t Stephanie.

  “Uh ... it’s Maurice. Have you got a minute?”

  Talking to his father wasn’t something Chris felt prepared to do. The man’s voice sounded tired. Chris figured he’d probably been drinking. “How’d you get my number?”

  “Your Aunt Mary.”

  “Why are you calling?

  “Uh ... well, I was hoping to see you. There’s a few things I need to say.”

  Chris felt his cheeks burning. “You didn’t seem interested in talking with me the last time I saw you.” He took a gulp of his beer and put the bottle down, looking at it with disdain. Suddenly he wanted something much stronger to drink.

  “I know we didn’t get on very well last time. We both said some things ...” Maurice hesitated. “But I was hoping you’d give me another chance. There are a few things I need to square up with you.”

  Chris marched into the kitchen, still holding the phone, and snatched the bottle of Captain Morgan from the cupboard and a cola from the fridge. He spilled rum onto the counter and let the cola overflow the glass. Ignoring the mess, he took a large mouthful.

  His father was still talking. “Chris, there’s a reason I’m calling, if —”

  “I really don’t feel like talking right now. I’m sure you know the feeling. Maybe tomorrow.” He hung up.

  After Chris texted Stephanie to say good night, the rest of the night was a blur.

  EIGHTEEN

  Chris’ head felt like it had spent the night in a vise grip. He was relieved to have a day to recover before returning to work.

  But he was also mad at himself for the way he’d treated Maurice. Receiving a phone call from his father had caught him off guard, and he felt bad for shutting him down the way he had. In the sober light of day, he was curious why his father had wanted to talk. There had been a time in Chris’ life when he would have given anything to receive a call from him, or any indication at all that he mattered to the man. So why was Maurice calling now?

  He was unsure of his next move, feeling nervous about how Maurice would react if Chris called him so soon after last night’s debacle. He decided to wait a few days to let things cool down. Then he’d call his Aunt Mary to see if she knew anything about why Maurice wanted to speak with him in the first place.

  In the meantime, he had other pressing concerns. His phone rang, and the chiming noise intensified the aching in his head.

  It was Stephanie. “You sound awful.”

  “I feel awful.” He told her about his call from Maurice and reluctantly filled her in on his drinking binge.

  Stephanie was silent for a moment. “Did he say why he was calling?”

  “I didn’t give him much of a chance.” Now it was his turn to pause. “I feel pretty crappy about it now, but last night, I was just too mad to talk.” He told her about his plan to contact Maurice in a few days.

  “How much did you drink?”

  “Too much.” He promised himself that he’d throw out the rest of his hard liquor. “I thought I was getting over all of this stuff. Guess I was wrong.”

  “Your drinking?”

  “Drinking, Maurice, Ray, flashbacks, all of it.”

  “You’ve had a slip, Chris, granted, a big one. But you’ve also made great gains. This is just a temporary setback. Are you going to be okay? I can come over.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be all right. I’m just going to take it easy for a while.” They made plans to meet and said their goodbyes.

  Chris spent the rest of the day sprawled on his futon, listening to music and alternating between occasional periods of sleep and being awakened by intrusive dreams. But he calmed himself somewhat with pleasant thoughts of Stephanie and their plans for the evening.

  Chris picked up a pizza on the way to Stephanie’s condo. The food was hot, the cola was cold, and Stephanie snuggled against him as they watched a romantic movie starring Ryan Gosling. Chris’ thoughts, however, kept drifting farther and farther away.

  “You didn’t hear what I just said, did you?” Stephanie broke into his reverie.

  “Uh?” he grunted, brought back to reality. ”Sorry, what did you say?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Chris, what were you thinking about just now?”

  He sighed. “I was thinking about that cruise ship we saw at the harbour. You ever have the urge to just pack up and go?”

  “Go where?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the point. Just getting lost somewhere. Anywhere but here.”

  She uncoiled her arms from Chris and sat up. “What’s going on for you right now?”

  “Nothing’s going on.” He told himself it wasn’t really a lie because he wasn’t entirely sure himself what was going through his head.

  “Well, if you won’t talk with me, please make sure you do with Nathaniel. When’s your next appointment?”

  “I haven’t made it yet, but I will. And yes, I’ve been talking with him.”

  “Good. I’m relieved to hear that at least.” There was a moment of uneasy silence between them. Finally, Stephanie stifled a yawn. She checked her phone for the time: eleven o’clock. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

  “I’d like to stay over, Stephanie, you know that. But I don’t want to wake you up in the middle of the night again. I should probably go home.” He started to get up.

  “Are you sure?” She sounded disheartened.

  Chris grudgingly nodded. “I’m sorry for bailing again.” He tried to lighten the moment. “Why don’t you finish watching the movie? I know you’ve been waiting for a scene where your fantasy love interest takes off his shirt.” Smiling, he leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead.

  “I’d have settled for you tonight.” She smiled back at him. “Drive safe. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  NINETEEN

  Arriving at work the next morning feeling lethargic, Chris couldn’t concentrate on even the most mundane activities. He wished he’d called in sick. His only hope was to throw himself deeper into his work and somehow fight through his malaise.

  He walked onto Alpha Unit and, after some chitchat with staff, approached Dr. Stevenson in the nursing station. She started to give him a hard time about how bad he looked, but he headed her off by asking for an update on Marvin’s assessment.

  She knew what he was doing but cut him some slack. “My report is pretty straightforward. I’ll be recommending that Marvin is unfit to stand trial. He’s not able to describe the rules of the court or the role of the judge or the Crown. I’ve talked with his lawyer, and she hasn’t been able to get any instruction from him. So it’s very likely he’ll be found unfit.”

  Dr. Stevenson went on, saying she’d be asking for a treatment order, to give more time to develop a plan with Marvin. She’d also asked Occupational Therapy to complete a functional assessment of Marvin’s Activities of Daily Living, and she was waiting on the neuro-psych assessment from Psychology.

  “Any luck connecting with Marvin’s family?” she asked Chris.

  “No. Just the one call.” He didn’t mention he’d driven by the addresses Marvin had given him. “I’ll keep trying.”

  On the way to his office, Chris dropped in on Gerald, hoping for a friendly distraction.

  “I hope you feel better than you look,” his friend joshed, “because you look like you just stepped off The Walking Dead set.”

  Chris ignored the comment. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Apparently nothing as exciting as you. Did you know Lucy Chen from the Tribune called me?”

  Chris shook his head.

  “She found out I was assigned to Ray Owens when he was here. She had a bunch of questions about him, and about you.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Don’t know. We didn’t get that far. I told her I couldn’t comment on the case and directed her to Communications. But I thought you’d want to know she hasn’t fo
rgotten about you.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “She’s not the only one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was listening to CBC Radio a few minutes ago. They reported Ray’s got Phillip Bernum now as his lawyer.”

  “No! You’re kidding, right?” As usual, the simple mention of Ray’s name tied Chris’ stomach in a knot. He was equally dismayed to hear that Ray’s lawyer was Phillip Bernum, widely known as Barnum, as in the Barnum and Bailey Circus, from the lawyer’s penchant for going after controversial and high-profile criminal cases and turning them into events. Chris recalled an attempt a few years earlier to have Bernum disbarred for alleged unethical conduct, but in his usual fashion, the lawyer had managed to wriggle his way off the hook.

  “Last I heard, Ray was representing himself because he was too good for a lawyer.”

  “That’s narcissism for ya. Well, he’s got Bernum now. Bernum announced it himself about an hour ago on Twitter.”

  “Great. They’ll make quite the pair.” Chris scowled.

  “That was the general opinion on the CBC. Your name came up, too.”

  “How so?”

  “They were talking about the charges against Ray, and when it came to his attempted murder charge, they did a back story on you. How you found Carrier’s body, how you saved Elizabeth, and how you’re one of the few witnesses the Crown’s got. Sounds like the guys charged with Elizabeth’s abduction are refusing to cooperate, despite the threat of even longer jail time. And everyone else is dead: James Carrier, Charles Longville, Dale Goode—that was the hit man’s name, right?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Chris lowered his head into his hands and rubbed his aching temples.

  “Sorry, Chris, I didn’t mean to bum you out.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Have you been subpoenaed yet?”

  Chris shook his head.

  “Well, maybe they’ll forget about it and you won’t end up testifying after all.”

  “Fat chance of that. It’s not going to trial for a while, but they made it clear they want me on the stand.”