“I’m good with water.” Angie peered at the container in his hand in mild bewilderment. Unable to help herself she asked, “Why are you drinking eggnog in the middle of June? And how is it still good?”
Zak closed the fridge and pulled open the freezer. He gestured to the rest of its contents, more than half comprised of tightly packed eggnog cartons. “The stuff freezes just fine. I stock up after Christmas every year. We’ve got an extra freezer in the basement just for this.” He took another long swig as he went about finding a glass and dropping ice cubes into it. “I’m kind of addicted to the stuff, ever since I worked as a bag boy for a grocery store over the holidays when I was like…fourteen.”
Angie accepted the glass of water he brought to her, looking away to conceal her amusement. “I guess there are worse things to be hooked on.”
“No kidding.” Zak leaned a shoulder against the entryway of the kitchen. “Some of the people I graduated with are already certifiable alcoholics. I hit legal drinking age this spring and figured out I don’t have a taste for the stuff.”
“Oh that’s right, it’s nineteen here,” Angie recalled, surprised to find herself settled by the ease of their interaction. She had expected to be at least somewhat annoyed with him. Yet, so far he hadn’t said or done anything to prompt another comfort-check on her can of mace.
“Right, and our grade levels go up to thirteen before college.” The laid-back quality of his voice mirrored his unhurried mannerisms. “On that point, I think I like the American version better. I felt ready for college two years ago.”
An abrupt combination of sound and movement called their attention down the hall to the front door, where a tall woman had shouldered her way inside carrying multiple grocery bags. “Zaky? Well, where is she?” the woman called.
“That’d be mom,” Zak said, polishing off the remainder of his eggnog and giving the empty container a long toss across the kitchen into the garbage. “Let’s get this over with.” He sighed, rounding the corner and heading back down the hall.
Anxiety gripped Angie’s stomach. Was she even supposed to be in the house? She deposited the glass of water on the table before following Zak, somewhat glad his towering form hid her from view. The effect was short-lived, as he reached the foyer and stepped to one side while taking the bags from his mother.
The woman stood a bit taller than Angie, with a solid but trim build. Her golden-brown hair was wavy, pulled back in a loose pony tail that fell past her shoulders. Her face was one that had seen regular outdoor exposure, but a notably lighter complexion compared to her son’s. Vivid blue eyes stood out from otherwise even, unremarkable features.
“Mom, this is Angeli. Angeli—Mom.” Zak nodded between the two women as he gave the introduction and then turned, heading back toward the kitchen with the groceries.
Feeling the irrational sting of abandonment, Angie stayed where she was and offered out her hand along with a smile she hoped would be taken as harmless. She hadn’t read any anger from the woman’s tone or posture, at least. “Hi there.” Her voice came out small .
Please like me.
“Oh, good! You’re not a forty-year-old escaped convict!” the woman said, with no small degree of jubilance. Her eyes brightened, and the light creases around her mouth and eyes became defined with sincere expression. Smiling brought out a beauty that Angie supposed must have been breathtaking in her youth.
Instead of shaking her hand, the woman embraced her in a quick articulation of relief. “I’m Cathy, by the way. I could swear I taught that boy better manners.” She released Angie to have another inspecting look at her.
“Good to meet you, too.” Angie laughed. “I’m so sorry for the confusion over my visit. I never meant to cause any problems.”
“Well, that’s not your fault. Zak really cooked it this time,” Cathy said, in blatant agitation. “But now that you’re here, I don’t think there’s any need for you to get a hotel. The couch folds out into a bed.” She gestured to the sofa as she walked past the living area and headed for the kitchen.
Angie trailed after the woman, on the verge of shock over her change of heart. “That’s…very kind of you. I can always stay in my car if you’d prefer. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
“No, no. I won’t have you sleeping outside.” Cathy said over her shoulder before leaning into the kitchen. “Zak, how does seafood sound? I thought we’d all down to that little place along the canal. We could show your friend around a little afterwards, if there’s still daylight.”
“Uh, sure.” Zak’s low voice answered from somewhere in the kitchen, carrying a trace of surprise. “Have you heard anything from Evie?”
Cathy leaned back and nodded. “I just talked to her before I left work. She’s still having contractions, but they aren’t any closer together than they have been all week. She’ll call if there’s any change.”
“Alright,” Zak said. He reappeared in the hallway and moved past Angie, flashing a relieved smile. “I’m starved. Just let me grab my keys.”
The day had cooled by the time they arrived at the restaurant. Cathy requested a table out on the broad patio deck, with a view overlooking the Rideau Canal. They found a place near the lacquered wood railing and settled in.
“Is that any good?” Angie laid the menu down, looking to Zak at her right as she set her finger beneath the “Shark Burger.” The item had stood out to her as something she’d never tried, but always been curious about.
Zak made a face. “I’m not really a fan of shark meat. Kinda dry and not a lot of flavor. But, I mean, they might do it well here.”
“Oh, he’s just a picky eater.” Cathy piped up from across the table. “Give it a try if you’ve never had it. You may never get a better opportunity.”
Angie nodded. Noting that it was one of the less expensive things on the menu, she settled on it — in case her hosts insisted on paying for her food.
Once they’d all ordered, Zak kept to himself while his mother began a subtle cross-examination of Angie. Cathy asked about her siblings, her parents professions, her schooling and extra-curricular activities. Angie answered readily, feeling she owed her hostess that much. Their food had arrived by the time she got around to the harder questions.
“Well if you’re already in college, what is it you’re going for?”
Angie paused, peeking under the bun in front of her at the slice of off-white meat while racking her brain for some way of not sounding fickle. “I’m just getting an associate degree in liberal arts for right now. I’ll probably take a break after that. I know people change their major a few times on average, and I didn’t want to risk wasting money until I was sure what area I want to go into.” She took a testing bite of the burger, tasting mayo along with a fishy flavor, combined with a chewy texture she’d never encountered before.
Cathy leaned forward over her salad. “Well, what interests have you narrowed down to?”
“I’d like to be a writer, but from what I can tell it doesn’t really pay the bills.” Angie said. “I’ve considered becoming a nurse, since I’m already familiar with the lingo. I’m just not sure I’m ready to give in and officially become my mother.” She chuckled, working on another bite as she considered further. “I’ve thought about becoming a Minister too, since it’s kind of in the same vein with helping people.”
Cathy grimaced. “A woman Minister?” A thought seemed to dawn on her. “I suppose they do have those. Still, if you want to be of some real use to people, you’d be better off going into nursing. Can’t be much good to the soul if the body’s falling apart.”
Angie nodded in appreciation of the woman’s opinion, however quickly it had been given. She wondered at the disapproval Cathy seemed to have tempered, but decided it wasn’t the best time to ask about it. “I also haven’t ruled out going into the military. I know a lot of people who thought long and hard about it after the 9/11 attack.”
Cathy’s scrutinizing gaze seemed to soften. She s
peared a few small shrimp with her fork and paused to speak before eating them. “That was a terrible thing to watch. I’m glad we didn’t have something like that happen here.” Her voice carried a detached sort of empathy. She was quiet for a few long moments before asking, “Which branch of the military are you considering?”
“The Air Force,” Angie said. “I have a friend there now, and from what he’s told me, I think I’d do pretty well there.” Thoughts of Don surfaced, but she willfully suppressed them.
“Ah.” Cathy intoned with a measure of approval, if not respect. “My oldest daughter’s husband served in the Canadian Air Force. It was a good experience for him. Instilled a solid sense of discipline, I’d say.”
Angie smiled to herself, considering it an victory that the woman had at least found something relatable about her. Their chatting became lighter as they neared the end of the meal, with Cathy shifting to focus on Zak with graduation-related inquiries. Just as Angie had guessed, Cathy picked up the check while brushing off any argument about it.
“We’ve still got a good hour of light,” Cathy said as she got up and headed across the deck. “I’m going to run to the biffy, and then we can show you a little more of the city.”
Angie waited until the woman was out of earshot before turning to Zak. “Biffy?”
“Bathroom.” Zak smirked, pushing his chair back to stand.
Following suit, Angie tucked in her chair and walked down along the deck railing to the overlook point closest to the waterway. The canal mimicked the blue of the sky, save for where the surface was broken by the path of a small watercraft. Along both banks she noted a smattering of color, reds and yellows dominating. She bent forward, straining to identify the flora causing this picturesque affect. The colors reached as far as she could see in both directions. Zak came alongside her and leaned into the railing.
“What kind of flowers are those?” she asked.
“Tulips.” Zak glanced her way, dark brows lofting. “It’s kind of what Ottawa is known for. We’ve got millions of them all over the place. The Netherlands gives us like ten thousand more every year.” He made an open gesture down one length of the channel. “You should have seen it last month during the tulip festival. Toward the end of May, the shores are almost solid color.”
“Must be beautiful,” Angie said. She stared out at the shorelines for a long moment, envisioning the sight. “But why would another country give you a boatload of flowers every year?”
“We took in a Dutch Princess for a few years while World War 2 was going on, during the Nazi occupation,” he said. “Ever since then, the royal family keeps sending us more bulbs annually in thanks. This year was the fiftieth anniversary.” His expression grew slightly embarrassed as he went on. “I heard the Princess’s daughter came over for it and everything. But…I wasn’t really paying a lot of attention. Most years I’d go to the festival concerts with my friends, but this time everybody was more worried about exams and graduation.”
“I’m sure it’s a lot easier to take for granted when it’s basically going on in your back yard every year.” Angie felt a wistful smile settling and turned to look back out over the canal. “That’s a great story. Much less depressing than the main thing my hometown is known for.”
“And what’s that?”
Angie grimaced. “Site of the largest mass execution in U.S. history.”
Zak flinched. “Yikes.”
Angie nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on a bridge spanning the channel in the distance.
Zak paused for a time before uneasily picking up a different topic. “Hey, uh, don’t mind my mom. She’s got strong opinions. And she’s still kinda mad. I guess she used to go to some kind of church when we were little, but when my dad left us and they got divorced, the people there acted like it was her fault. So, she’s not real keen on religious people.”
Angie wasn’t sure if he was simply navigating away from the previous subject out of discomfort, or if he’d been planning the explanation all along. “Well that makes two of us.” She gave a sympathetic smile and shook her head. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’d try to fix, if I did end up going that route. Churches are supposed to take care of people.” She noted the look of confusion that came over him, but decided that if he wanted her to clarify, he’d ask.
Any further discussion was cut short by Cathy’s return. She called them away from the railing as she emerged from the restaurant. “Let’s get going, you two. We’re wasting daylight.”
And with that, the driving tour of the canals began.
Cathy took over driving, and Zak compacted himself into the back seat so Angie could take the passenger’s side. Tulips were a prevailing part of the scenery everywhere they went. Beds of them decorated street corners, lined bike trails, and accented the immaculate open parks. Bursts of yellows and reds were joined by vivid oranges, pinks, whites, and even shades of violet. She’d never had much interest in flowers, but she couldn’t deny the charm of their application throughout the capital city.
Crossing over a bridge that spanned the Ottawa River, Cathy mentioned to Angie that they were entering the province of Quebec. The city of Hull sprawled along the northern bank directly across from Ottawa, offering a striking view of Parliament Hill and the neo-gothic buildings that comprised it. While Ottawa was surrounded by farmland and largely flat, the fringes of Hull were thickly forested and took on steeper inclines. They stayed in Quebec just long enough for Cathy to park at a favorite overlook along the river.
Everyone exited the vehicle — the women to take pictures, and Zak to stretch his legs. Cathy produced a camera with a sizable lens and began walking along the bluff snapping photos. Angie frowned at her disposable camera, knowing it couldn’t adequately capture the splendor of the fiery red and orange sunset reflected off of the water.
Angie looked over her shoulder at Zak while pointing across the river toward the tallest spire on Parliament Hill. “So, we’re going there tomorrow?”
Zak looked up from his slumped position on the hood of the Dodge. “Yup. I think they do the changing of the guard at 10AM every morning. It’s supposed to be worth seeing.” He smirked to himself. “I’ll try to wake up in time for it. I’m not much good to anybody without my twelve hours of beauty sleep.”
Angie gaped at him for a moment until she decided he was being serious. “And I thought -I- was sleeping a lot with having Mono. How were you getting by with school if you’re hard pressed to get up before ten?”
“Not very well,” Zak admitted with a slow shrug. “That’d be one of the reasons why school wasn’t agreeing with me. I don’t know how I’m going to do it when I get a job over the summer. I grew three inches in the last year, and I’m probably not done. Takes a lot out of me.”
“Oh, he’s always slept like the dead,” Cathy inserted as she came trudging back toward the car. “The best thing I could do was send him to bed early and hope I wouldn’t have to pour water on him in the morning.” Her tone held equal parts complaint and fondness.
“Well in that case, I guess once we get back you should turn in.” Angie kept her voice light with amusement.
“Yeah, probably.” Zak chuckled, smoothing a hand over the carefully shaped crest of his hair before sliding off the car.
It occurred to Angie that, despite how much she was beginning to like Cathy, her presence was making it harder to figure Zak out. He seemed more prone to conversation when his mother wasn’t close by. Had Cathy not been there, she imagined she might have worked up the nerve to sit beside him on the hood of the Dodge to watch the sunset.
Why am I thinking about this?
Angie shook her head and looked to Cathy, awaiting her signal for their departure.
June 20,
Ottawa has turned out to be an incredibly beautiful place. I should have looked up more about it before I got here. There’s so much well-kept greenery and a huge variety of architecture...most of which, I know nothing about. The canals and lakes are so muc
h a part of the landscape and lifestyle, I think this place would be a photographer’s dream. I doubt I’d even mind it here in the winter. Zak told me the Rideau Canal turns into the longest skating rink in the world. I think I’d like to see that.
I was afraid Zak’s mom wouldn’t like me at all, but she warmed up to me the moment she saw I wasn’t older or more criminal-looking than advertised. I even get to sleep on the couch, now! Zak and I seem to be getting along pretty well. I guess he’s not completely asinine, after all. Tomorrow I’m supposed to get a foot tour of Parliament Hill from Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. I’m not sure what to expect, but it sounds nice and historic. If Zak wakes up in time, I should get to see the changing of the guard. It sounds about as British as it gets without actually going to England.
All in all, I’m just very thankful that things are turning out so well. It’s clearly been a stressful week for Zak’s family, what with Zak’s oldest sister being one week overdue with her first child. I’m going to do my best not to place any additional stress on them while I’m here.
Mileage Log: 1,548 mi
~Ang
Chapter 9
Angie awoke the next morning as Cathy was getting ready for work. Concerned she might interrupt her hostess’s routine, she pretended to be asleep until the woman left the house. Pretending turned into reality, and she startled herself awake some time later. The wall clock revealed it was nearly nine-thirty. She hadn’t heard any movement from upstairs, so she doubted Zak was up yet.
She ascended the groaning wooden staircase and surveyed the tight hallway. To her immediate right was an open doorway into a bedroom that was too floral and unoccupied to belong to Zak. Making a guess, she eased further to the right and peeked into a small space with a harshly sloped ceiling — the laundry room. By process of elimination, that left just one place he could be.
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