“Richard, where are you? I thought that you could not make it to the restaurant. Are they still there? Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll explain when I see you.”
“I wanted to get out of work early and surprise you, but when I arrived they said that you did a no-show. Why didn’t you answer your phone?” asked Richard. “You know how paranoid I am, especially after your last case in Montreal. Perhaps we shouldn’t have returned. Adam, when you are not reachable, I hate the feeling that comes over me… sheer fear!”
“Really, I thought that you were working late. We will discuss this later, at home. There is nothing to worry about.”
What I did not know was that this get-together was really a surprise for me. Richard had lied about working late so I would not catch on. Marc greeted me with open arms. Nick from the pub was there with his wife and also a few close friends. It turned out to be a homecoming party celebrating our return to Montreal and I almost missed it. Richard had planned the surprise and it did not take long to get what few friends we had on board. Luckily the evening was saved and the merriment began.
* * * *
“Now that we have you on the spot Adam, we want you to tell us about your adventures in the Maritimes and why the hell you returned.”
I hated being unprepared but after a few drinks, I gladly spurted out the information.
“That whole Devon Lambert case made me realize how important life really is. In other words, it scared the shit out of me. My life with Richard was being threatened. I felt that a move away from Montreal was necessary. It was not a good move because it was based on fear. I’ve since learned that decisions should not be founded solely on one’s emotions. It is a recipe for disaster!”
“Why did you come back then?” Nick asked slurring his words. “You don’t sell your condo, change everything, and then move that far away only because of a case. You spent a small fortune on that place.” He then looked directly over to Richard, who by now wanted to crawl under the table, and said, “Richard that condo on the old port was your dream! I am flabbergasted by the fact that you could invest that much time and effort into purchasing a magnificent place like that and then discard it so abruptly. What really happened?” asked Nick. I knew then that I had to be as tactful as possible. People were on to me. Richard glanced over knowingly. I would have to make this as convincing as possible without letting on why I really left and then my reason for returning. Being an outsider, looking in; this must have appeared somewhat ludicrous.
I began. “At first it was great. Prince Edward Island is a wonderful spot to nest but although picturesque it did not provide me with the stimulus needed for my line of work. It would be a great retirement place but once the holiday of sorts was over, I missed my Montreal. In other words, it was very boring. Another thing to take into consideration was their non-acceptance of us. The daily stares were demoralizing. Montreal is a city of complete liberation; you can live as you please here. I guess you can say that was the main reason in a nutshell! Non-acceptance…!”
“Wow, that was an expensive move!” said Marc. “You had bought this amazing condo on the old port, only to have to sell it and relocate. And Richard I hear that you are working for half your salary, selling insurance for the Sunlight. What were you thinking man?”
I was pissed at how Richard was being attacked. No, the Sunlight was not the job that he was qualified for but for now it helped pay the bills. I admired my husband for jumping in and helping out with our return, putting aside his pride for us. I hated Marc for questioning it, but I answered as best I could.
“I know! There are some truths in what you say but you have to understand that my emotions were all over the place. Don’t forget we were the target of the mafia and Richard and I had just married. I wanted it perfect, but the way I was feeling was anything but perfect. We needed to get away to put things into perspective. It had to be done. Now we are back; this is our new beginning. I will not let anyone or any case have that much control or impact on me again. My case load might be limited but it will be chosen and accepted with Richard’s and my safety being foremost of importance. Hopefully that will answer your question.”
I looked directly at Marc, my glare being the only ammunition to combat his verbal attack. He, realizing his insensitive comments, stood up and offered his hand saying, “Welcome back my friend. If there is anything that you need, I not only speak for myself but for the others; we are here to help the two of you. It is wonderful to have you back. You were greatly missed.” Marc then raised his glass for a toast.
The rest of the night was spent sharing stories and anticipating what would hopefully take place in the next few months. We were finally home. I was starting to notice a pattern, one in which I did not like. When situations become uncomfortable or do not fall into my precise plan, I escape. First was my move to Prince Edward Island… the next my return home. The evening ended on a pleasant note and we left the restaurant and decided to walk down to the Old Port of Montreal.
The Imax Cinema was emptying and people were heading towards the food trucks. Excitement was all around us as they lusted for the flavors of the city: poutines, beaver tails, smoked meat sandwiches and anything that you could possibly put gravy on was devoured with the greatest enthusiasm. Aromas filled the air, mixed with the perfume of flowers as the vendors pushed their carts amongst the crowds. The night breeze carried the smell of the Saint Lawrence River and somehow these scents all came together as only recognizable to Montreal. It was uniquely ours.
This was my Montreal; the only place in the world that I wanted to be but I had to figure out if my desire to run when things did not materialize as planned, was an easy excuse for classifying Montreal as the only place that I wanted to live.
Only I knew the real reason for coming back.
Chapter Two
“What the hell were you thinking? I was worried sick,” said Richard with concern. “Wow, you are in the wrong profession. Why the sudden change? In the restaurant you couldn’t be nicer and also on our walk through the Old Port. I already told you happened and I don’t feel the need to repeat myself. Let’s just forget about it and go to bed.”
“No I can’t forget about it. You promised that if we came back to Montreal, it would be different this time. I am not going to live in fear. I’ve been there before and I can’t do this again.”
“Do what? What I can’t do is report my whereabouts to you every friggin minute. Back off Richard! I told you what happened; leave it alone. Fuck, just leave me alone! Get out of my sight; I’m sleeping on the couch.” I hated the fact that I was being questioned, but I realized that the Lambert case had made an everlasting impact on our marriage. It drained us completely. We gave up everything to move to Prince Edward Island. The condo on the port was Richard’s baby. He spent endless hours decorating it and standing back with pride as he observed his work. He lost it all in the move and it was cruel on my part not to sympathize and be more understanding of his needs. Tomorrow I would make this right. I would apologize to the man I love and promise to be more considerate. My job was just that, my job. Richard had given up a high paying position with Thompson Financial group, and now he was selling insurance for the Sunlight. He gave it all up for me, to follow my lead and only because I took on the Lambert case in the first place. Our lives changed forever.
I approached the bedroom door. Richard was sitting in a chair by the window. It was obvious that he had been crying. I reached for him. “I’m so sorry. You are right. It was selfish and inconsiderate of me not to take your feelings into account. Forgive me Richard. I was wrong.”
“I want you to know how much I love and worry about you. That’s all! Give me time Adam. I am sure that I will get over this. We had explosives put under our car and our home ransacked by the mafia. I guess I’m still living in fear. It is because I love you that I am worried.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Richard reached over a
nd kissed me with such desperation: no words were necessary. We went to bed and I told him that tomorrow I would vow to make changes if that is what it took to reinforce his trust in me. It wasn’t easy coming back. We had lost everything when we left Montreal... returning was like starting all over again. As luck would have it though, I owned the building that my original office was in and when we moved to the Maritimes, I rented my space out to an internet company that went belly-up about the same time as our planned return. I was able to move back into my old premises. A little bit of plaster and paint brought the place back to its original state.
We weren’t as lucky about our living quarters. It broke my heart seeing Richard make do. He had put much love and effort into our new condo. The Old Port was the perfect backdrop for Richard to develop and implement his wonderful taste in décor. When we sold the condo we barely broke even. If it meant me taking on a heavier workload, I would make sure that one day Richard would have his condo back again. All I had to do was get the perfect case. The one case that would make me recognized. Of course, every private eye/lawyer dreams of that one case… but I would find it! I would become prominent in the trade and with that have a choice as to who my clients might be. Hopefully they would be a blend of the rich and famous, people that could afford big bucks for a sought after, much in demand, private investigator. Or if they wanted a lawyer, with my law degree, I could also act on their behalf. I would clean up my appearance and change the way I approached my new business. But for now I had to put food on the table. Upon returning, Richard had a few job interviews but his experience outmatched the salary he was being offered, so he had to settle for a job way below his qualifications. There was definitely work out there but finding the perfect fit was worth waiting it out. I was not worried about Richard; he would find something soon.
* * * *
Over the next couple of days, I concentrated on marketing strategies to improve my business. I realized that my office location was not attracting the diversified clientele that I had hoped for. It consisted mainly of LGBT caseloads. These were the people who needed legal defense but because of their lifestyle, some found it awkward to go through the normal channels… normal as defined by the straight community that is. With this group came very little money. The courts, although seemingly fighting for the rights of all, usually put my cases at the bottom of the pile. I had no proof of this but a friend within the system volunteered the information and my education in law, at times, made me more aware.
I liked my office building but was seriously considering opening another office and hiring staff nearer the downtown core. I refused to give up my space. This building was where it all started for me. When my mother died, the insurance money afforded buying this office building outright. After a few enhancements, it’s where I began my career. I could not let it go, not yet.
I wonder if Doctor Marie Desjardins would approve of my practice. Mom always wanted a son that would give her grandchildren. You would think that she being a doctor would be more understanding but she was anything but. She always accepted me; she had no other choice. I knew her acceptance was with forged feelings. Her ghostly companions of bitterness and resentment kept all that tried to enter her circle at a distance, especially the male gender. She hated men. She competed with men. She would not let men near. They became the enemy and I was growing into one of them. She should have been relieved knowing that I was gay. I was a nice mixture of daughter/son personalities.
I can only guess that she felt she had failed as a woman by producing this child who attempted to be a straight male. Perhaps, knowing her hatred for the male species, she could have beaten up on me if I were stronger. I could have been her punching bag, letting her release all of her pent up frustrations. My female characteristics caused a conflict of sorts and she fought with this unresolved issue until death.
When I was younger I was able to glean together small bits of information regarding my father. Mom told me that she was an international student. She was exceptional in her studies and outranked many applicants for entrance to Oxford. That is where she met Steven Garwood, my father. He was a descendent from the first family of Garwoods. They mingled with the upper class. Mom very rarely talked about him but when she did, it was the only time that she became vulnerable and she immediately stopped the conversation.
Apparently my father’s family would not accept this Canadian commoner. The young lovebirds ran off and married. Steven Garwood was disinherited and his allowance taken from him. He would have to live by his own merits. He had some medical issues and his family had always supported him. Venturing out alone, he realized how unemployable he was and what was once a wonderful budding romance soon became a burdensome life! There was no money and no place to call home. Their forbidden love was now a shackled attempt at togetherness. When it couldn’t get any worse, my mother realized that she was expecting me. Steven left before I was born and Mother was forced to return to Montreal. I don’t think that she ever heard from my father again, or at least she never mentioned it to me.
When Marie returned, she returned as a beaten spirit, never to be the same. Her parents begrudgingly took her in and looked after me while she completed her last year at McGill University. It did not take long before she was able to join forces with another graduate Doctor in Psychology and they set up a small practice in Saint Laurent, a suburb of Montreal. Imagine a mother who is in that field and she could not deal with her gay son! Ironic! I always saw disappointment in her eyes. It soon overshadowed any feelings of love that I had from her. I felt that I was her biggest failure.
She died coming home from a weekend up north. Her car spun off the road and hit a tree. I regretted never having closure and this made me cold and untrusting of people. Later I was told that she wasn’t the only passenger in the car. There was a male with her. What? Was she having an affair? He died three days after the accident. When I found out that he had a family, wife and children, I did not inquire any further. What was the point? I moved on with my life.
When I met and fell in love with Richard; all that changed. Nothing mattered anymore. I was complete.
* * * *
I could not keep myself away. Something was drawing me there. Although I had not seen Gritty since, I would go out of my way to pass rue Dalcourt. My pace became slower as I walked in his direction, hoping to see him. I realized that I should leave it be but there was a hint of mystery attached to this homeless man. He did not belong there. I hated the fact that we were interrupted as he was about to tell me his story. Or, so I thought that he was about to tell me, a very optimistic acuity on my part.
The days were getting shorter and the influx of tourists was thinning out. Seasonal changes were beginning. The fall brought about a need to nest and organize for the onslaught of winter. I wanted my pantry to be full: my freezer stocked and lots of warm clothing ready. I thought about how the first pilgrims must have felt preparing for the cold months ahead. Once Thanksgiving approached, the frigid temperatures soon followed. And as the season changed, my thoughts of Gritty changed as well. I worried about him and wondered how he and all the others like him, made it through these bitter cold times. In the past, I never really thought much about the homeless, but after meeting Gritty and putting a voice to their plight… it became very real. He represented every man, woman and child living in dire need of help. These thoughts would soon consume me.
It was early evening, 4:30 to be exact. The street lamps were on and because of the darkness you could not decipher whether it was early or late evening. I hated daylight savings. I went my usual route but this time as I passed Dalcourt, there seemed to be some kind of ruckus going on. A police patroller was stopped by what appeared to be a small fire. Its flames seemed overtly bright against the shrouding darkness. A group of homeless men was trying to extinguish the fire with their feet. The men were visibly shaken. It was difficult to presume what was the cause of their agitated state: the fright of
being confronted by the law, or the extreme conditions caused by the cold weather. It could also have been panic that the fire would blaze out of control. As the patroller exited, their muffled voices escalated with accusations. I turned to leave feeling guilty… knowing that only a coward would walk away. It was easier to leave than stay. I hated myself at that moment but I continued to go.
I jumped in horror as I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I quickly turned in defense. I attempted to raise my arm but he proceeded to hold it in place. “I’m sorry. I’m only protecting myself. Please, don’t be afraid.” It was him. It was Gritty. “Do you remember me?” he said beseechingly.
“Of course I do. How are you?” And the moment I uttered the words, I thought, how stupid of me! He was living in a box and I asked him how he was doing? I didn’t know if I was in shock or really frightened, but I did know that I was happy to see him. I felt complete; I wanted to hug him. “I’m sorry Gritty; that was not very considerate of me.” The next words out of my mouth were, “Did you eat today?”
“What do you think?” he retorted. “The maid could not make it in this morning, so I am a little hungry.” We both looked at each other and gave a small laugh. The surrounding conditions were horrific and it was at that precise moment that I knew my life was about to change. I had no choice. I had to do it. I reached for my cell and dialed her number.
Gritty Page 2