The woodworking, that he got from his grandfather. When he was twelve, Mathieu started to hang out in the garage, his grandpa’s workshop, and soon his apprenticeship had begun. He’d itched to build something really cool, like a coffee table or a dresser, but his grandfather had insisted he learn how to use each tool properly by working on smaller projects.
At fifteen, he’d built the coffee table that was in the living room and always received words of appreciation from friends of his grandparents when they came over for a visit. The dresser in his room he’d built a couple of summers ago, but he’d had no time for any new projects since starting his freshman year.
Tonight, he wandered into the shop to find his grandfather busy sharpening a set of chisels.
“What’s on your mind?” Grandpa said after a few minutes of silence.
Mathieu shrugged. “Nothing.”
“That’s some heavy nothing on those shoulders,” Grandpa said without taking his eyes off his task. “Does that nothing have to do with a certain girl?”
Mathieu let out a heavy sigh. “I guess.”
Grandpa put the chisel down and looked at his grandson. “She turned you down?”
“Not really,” he said while shaking his head. “I kind of didn’t get the chance to ask her out. I was going to, but the words were too slow to come and then she had to go.”
“Got a bag of marbles in your mouth.”
Mathieu laughed half-heartedly. “Unfortunately.”
“Not easy when you really like someone and you’re afraid of getting the wrong answer.”
“If we could have had a few more minutes together, I’m sure everything would have turned out.”
“What happened?”
“She had to go work at her dad’s business,” he said. “She sure is busy. Not sure she can fit me in.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Grandpa said. “Don’t think about yourself. Think about her. Make it easy for her to say yes, to spend time with you. Every girl wants to feel special, even modern girls. Sure they’re more independent, but a girl’s heart is a girl’s heart. If we ask your grandmother, she’d say that all girls want to be with that special someone. Men aren’t that different, we just don’t talk about it much. But I tell you, I would have walked through a minefield to get to your grandmother.”
After a moment’s pause, Mathieu said, “I think I would too. I hardly know her, but I’m pretty sure I’d do just about anything to be with her. How well did you know Grandma before you knew she was the one?”
“We grew up in the same neighbourhood, but I didn’t really notice her until my last year of high school. And then I enlisted. That was in ’44 and by the time I’d gone through training camp and shipped out to England, the war was all but over.”
“Glad you made it back,” Mathieu said. “I never knew you’d been in the war.”
“Not something I like to talk about, even if I never actually fought.”
“So when you came back you and Grandma started seeing each other?”
“It wasn’t that easy. She liked me enough, but I was a bit cocky. So she made me work for it. The hardest part was asking her dad’s permission.”
“You had to ask Great-Grandpa permission to go out with her? Glad that’s one tradition we don’t have anymore.”
“Why not?”
Mathieu looked at his grandfather as if the old man had lost it.
“Might impress a girl if you did.”
“That’ll make me look like one big, gigantic loser, Grandpa. No one does that.”
“Then maybe you don’t want her as badly as you say you do.”
* * *
Today was Christmas Eve and Lori-Anne had been in her cubicle since eight this morning. Her mind kept wondering what a certain young man was doing, so she hadn’t gotten as much done as she’d planned.
She was still mad with herself for rushing out so quickly on Friday. Not like her dad was going to fire her. Of course, she’d been late and had promised to put that quote together, but fifteen more minutes with Mathieu might have led to something.
Something she wanted.
Not much she could change now. Hopefully she hadn’t scared him off. But now she’d have to wait until after New Year when class resumed to see if anything came of this, whatever this was.
She looked at the clock. It was four thirty and she could feel a headache coming.
Time to go home anyway.
She needed to help her mom. The whole family was coming over tonight—aunts and uncles and all the cousins that lived in town. It was a family tradition. They’d all go to midnight mass and then come back to her parents’ place for the Réveillon de Noel.
Food, fun, and gifts.
She loved that part of Christmas when her extended family got together. Of course her brother Brad was out in Vancouver and wouldn’t make it, and Cory probably wouldn’t come either because he and her dad didn’t get along, but Jim, Nancy and the kids would be there.
Lori-Anne went around the office to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and then left. As soon as she stepped out of the building, she felt like someone had put a bag of ice on her face. It had gotten bitterly cold the last couple of days and as she hurried across the parking lot, she heard the unmistakeable crunch of frozen snow under her boots.
She didn’t mind winter, but not when it was this cold.
Something caught her attention to the right and she turned her head just slightly. A dark blue Buick was idling.
Old man’s car, she thought.
Probably someone to see her dad.
When she opened the door of her Golf, the hinges complained like old bones. She got in, saw plumes of her breath fill the space in front of her as she put the key in the ignition, turned it, and hoped her little old car didn’t let her down.
When the engine caught, she uttered a quiet yes, then put the car in gear and left.
* * *
Mathieu always appreciated the advice his grandfather gave him, but this time he really saw the generation gap between them. It was one thing to ask a girl out on a date, but to ask her father’s permission, that just seemed weird.
But here he was anyway, sitting in his grandfather’s Buick in the parking lot of Weatherly Construction on Christmas Eve’s day, breathing in and out as deeply as he could to try to stay calm.
This was just one colossal, stupid idea.
Thanks to his grandfather.
He understood the principle of doing this, but the idea of putting himself into a situation that seemed as foreign to him as it would be for an eighteenth-century man to sit behind the wheel of a car didn’t make much sense.
This was 1991; no one asked the girl’s father for permission to date her. No one in his right mind anyway.
But what if it did impress Lori-Anne once she found out?
Was that why he was going to do it? To impress her? Wasn’t that the wrong reason to do it? What was the right reason?
Breathe in, breathe out.
There was a hint of romanticism in asking Lori-Anne’s father. Maybe that was the reason he was here, sitting in his grandfather’s car, working up the courage to ask a complete stranger if it was okay with him if Mathieu dated his daughter.
Oh boy! That was becoming stranger and stranger.
Maybe her father wouldn’t be there.
He doubted he’d be so lucky. People who ran their own business were usually always there.
What if he said no?
Holy crap! Mathieu hadn’t thought of that. Why would the man give Mathieu permission? He didn’t know Mathieu from a psychopath that just happened to walk in off the street.
But then Mathieu saw Lori-Anne come out the front door and he followed her with his eyes until she reached her little Volkswagen. She seemed to look his way quickly but the cold chased her into her car. She drove off.
She had looked so cute, bundled up in her winter jacket and hat and mittens, and i
f she wasn’t worth the humiliation that he was about to put himself through, then like his grandfather had said, he didn’t want her bad enough.
Mathieu killed the engine and walked to the front door, his mouth going dry, his stomach in the back of his throat, the words he wanted to say to Lori-Anne’s father getting lost in a haze of anxiety.
He entered the building and waited for someone to notice him, but no one did, so he ventured in a bit and asked the first person he saw if Mr. Weatherly was around.
“He’s probably in his office, the big one at the back. Is he expecting you?”
Mathieu shook his head. “Not really. I’m a friend of his daughter and wanted to talk to him about something.”
“Just head on down. It’s Christmas so he’s in a pretty good mood. At least for him.”
Mathieu took a few uncertain steps toward the back, and wondered if that had been some sort of warning that the man wasn’t easy to please. When he reached the office that said Sam Weatherly, President, Mathieu swallowed his fear and knocked.
“Come,” a booming voice commanded.
Mathieu pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, eyeing two men that looked quite alike, one maybe twenty years older than the other. He figured the older man was Lori-Anne’s father.
“What can I do for you, son?” Sam Weatherly sat in the comfort of a high-backed leather chair. “Haven’t seen you around before.”
Mathieu took a step in. “I’m not one of your employees. I wanted to talk to you about your daughter, Lori-Anne.”
The two men exchanged a look that made him more uncomfortable. He started to rub his right thumb against his index finger.
“How do you know Lori?”
Mathieu wondered whether she preferred the shorter name. “We go to school together.”
“You seem younger than she is.”
“Yes sir. I’m a freshman.”
Sam Weatherly gave the younger version of himself a dismissal nod and then Mathieu found himself alone with Lori-Anne’s father.
He stood and approached Mathieu.
They were about the same height and possibly similar weight, but Lori-Anne’s father had a presence that oozed intimidation, like a man who was used to be in charge.
“What’s this about?”
Mathieu looked around the office. Everything was expensive, from the desk and lamps to the paintings on the walls and the leather couch where business partners were probably asked to sit so business could be discussed.
Mathieu hadn’t been invited to sit. He didn’t see that as a good sign.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Sam Weatherly said.
“Mathieu Delacroix,” he said and extended his hand. It took a moment for Lori-Anne’s father to take it, and then Mathieu noticed it was a bit firmer than it needed to be. “Pleased to meet you.”
“So you wanted to talk to me about Lori?”
Sam Weatherly leaned against the corner of his desk and crossed his arms.
“Yes, sir, I do. This might seem a bit unusual, but I was raised by my grandparents and sometimes old traditions die hard.” Mathieu noticed he was losing his audience as impatience crossed Sam Weatherly’s weathered face. “Anyway, I was wondering if it would be okay to ask Lori-Anne out on a date. Well, several dates, hopefully.”
A grin that looked more like a trap than a friendly smile appeared on Sam Weatherly’s lips and Mathieu felt about two feet tall. This wasn’t going the way he’d expected, and he sensed that the man didn’t particularly like him. Could be the way Mathieu looked—so many people commented that he had that grunge look going and he’d never really given it much thought, especially since his grandparents hadn’t said anything, and if it didn’t seem to bother them, he’d assumed his appearance was just fine. Or maybe it was the protective daddy thing, that no other guy was ever going to be good enough for his daughter.
“Mathieu?” Sam Weatherly walked back around his desk. “Let me tell you about my daughter Lori. She’s a doer, like her father. I’ve got great plans for her. One, to run this business for me one day. Two, to marry a man. Know what I mean? You’re just a boy.”
Mathieu was too shocked to say anything. Even his grandfather couldn’t have expected Sam Weatherly to be so openly hostile toward someone he knew nothing about. Mathieu felt his spine get straight and his hands turn to fists, not because he wanted to fight, but because he suddenly didn’t care if he got permission; he didn’t need it. Mathieu was going to prove to Sam Weatherly that he was dead wrong about him—that Mathieu was a real man.
“Yeah,” Mathieu said in a tone that was full of stones. “I know exactly what you mean.”
And then he left, confident and determined about his future with Lori-Anne.
* * *
Lori-Anne was wearing a soft and cozy purple cardigan she’d gotten from her parents for Christmas, perfect to keep her warm in the cold office she shared with Rachel, the other UTA. Unlike Lori-Anne, Rachel knew she wanted to become a teacher and she really put a lot of energy into what she called her apprenticeship. Lori-Anne took the responsibility of being a Teaching Assistant seriously, but now it was just one more thing she felt obliged to do until the end of the year.
The first week of January was coming to an end and she hadn’t seen Mathieu at all. Of course he was done with English class, but she’d hoped to run into him at some point.
What if the Christmas break had scared him off for good?
Suddenly she sensed a presence at her door and looked up. The smile on her face was instant, as were the butterflies in her stomach. She knew she liked him, but to feel this excited, like a little school girl, caught her by surprise.
“Mathieu!” she said in a voice that was much higher than usual. She touched her hair and wished she had a mirror on her desk so she could make sure she looked good. “Did you want to come in?”
He stood in the doorway, looking even better than she recalled. It had been more than two weeks since they last spoke, but it felt much longer.
“Sure.”
“How’s the new semester going?” She rubbed her hands on her thighs. "Mine is crazy already and we’ve just started.”
“It’s going to be a lot of work and I don’t have a Teaching Assistant to go to this time.”
She tucked her hair behind her left ear. “My door is always open.”
He smiled and she thought it was the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen. And the way he stood there, dressed in tight blue jeans and a dark untucked and unbuttoned long-sleeve shirt over a white t-shirt, he looked so handsome and yummy, his lips an invitation she didn’t want to turn down.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.
She couldn’t help but stare at his mouth. She bit her lower lip and tucked her hair behind her left ear repeatedly.
“Did you get that contract done in time?”
For a moment, she was puzzled. “Oh, yes. I did. Just move those books off the chair and take a seat.”
Mathieu set them on the floor and put his backpack by his feet once he sat down. “I never did find out what you want to do after you graduate. You must look forward to that. No more late nights studying or cramming for a test or writing an essay.”
“That’ll be nice, for sure,” she said “I love marketing. And I think I’d be good at it.”
“Is that your major?”
“Bachelor of Commerce with an option in Marketing. I also have a minor in English which is why I’m a UTA. I thought maybe I’d like to be a high school English teacher, but my judgement might have been clouded.”
Mathieu nodded. “And now?”
Lori-Anne didn’t hesitate. “Couldn’t be clearer.”
* * *
Mathieu sat across from Lori-Anne and hoped the ridiculous grin on his face didn’t freak her out or scare her off. He couldn’t help it. One, she was so beautiful. Two, her affair with Professor Halfbrain was dead.
And three, her
father had lit a fire under his ass and there was no way he was going to let the old man scare him off. His grandparents hadn’t raised a quitter. Initially, he’d wanted to talk to his grandfather after his visit with Sam Weatherly, but then he’d decided that he didn’t need to, that this was one decision that was easy to make.
He might not be in love with Lori-Anne at the moment, but he had no doubt it wasn’t going to take long. All he needed to do was ask her out.
And from the vibes he was getting, he didn’t think marbles in his mouth were going to be an issue.
Not this time.
“It’s sort of dark and cramped in here,” he said. “Would you like to go get a coffee . . . and talk?”
* * *
Lori-Anne was about to say yes when Sabrina showed up at her door, a friend and classmate she’d made plans with earlier. They were meeting a few other girlfriends and going out to Lulu’s, a bar over in Hull, and it being Friday night, they were going to let loose.
“Can you give me a couple minutes?” she told Sabrina and then said to Mathieu, “I’m so sorry. I forgot I made plans earlier.”
“That’s okay,” Mathieu said and stood. “I dropped by unexpectedly. Rain check?”
Lori-Anne couldn’t believe this was happening again. She should simply blow off her girlfriends. They’d understand.
“It’s okay, really,” Mathieu said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can change my—”
“Go and have fun.”
“How’s Tuesday four o’clock?”
“I’ll be here.”
* * *
As soon as Mathieu left, Sabrina practically threw herself into Lori-Anne’s office.
“Is that why you broke it off with Professor Half?”
“First off,” Lori-Anne said as she grabbed her purse and jacket, “Miles dumped me. Said he needed to spend more time with his family, that he didn’t want his wife to get suspicious.”
“I wonder about that woman,” Sabrina said. “Is she blind?”
“I think she’s too damn busy with their four kids to notice.”
We Became Us Page 3