Part 33 (2/2)

”It's dishonest.”

”My feelings aren't dishonest.” Carlos pushed a plastic deck chair over. ”Isn't that what's important?”

The saliva in Jonas's mouth had gone rancid. His heart was beating too fast and when he looked down he saw his hands were shaking.

”I'm not a bad person.” Carlos backed out from the patio into the snow. ”You know I'm not.”

At that moment, Jonas teetered between kissing Carlos and shouting at him. In what he felt might be his last great performance, Jonas pretended he didn't care. Without a word, Jonas turned, opened his back door, and went inside, where he was bombarded by the mournful smell of his kitchentwo old banana peels, coffee grounds, and an unwashed fried egg pan.

81.

drunk on risk Madison sat in the backseat of the Toyota Prius with Garith. The dog panted madly and paced from one tinted window to the other, hopping over Madison's lap and slamming into her expanding belly. On Whyte Avenue, they pa.s.sed a dog walker with a golden retriever, two dachshunds, and a standard poodle. Garith hopped and howled, slamming his wet nose into the window.

”Are those the puppies?” David's voice rose to a squeak at the end of the sentence. ”Where's the puppies, Garith?”

Madison and her parents were on their way back from ATB Financial, where David and Abby had applied for a $750,000 business loan. In their smart black and grey suits, they were so giddy, so touchy, so drunk on their own financial risk that Madison worried their recent personal and political transformations were the results of a shared psychological disorder. That, or a lot of cocaine. To her immense discomfort, Madison had even heard moans coming from their bedroom in recent days.

Why had her parents dragged her to the bank? Certainly not for aesthetic reasons, as she had grown rapidly in the last couple of weeks and didn't have any proper maternity clothes. All Madison could wear at the moment were Hawaiian-print muumuus from her mother's pre-aerobics period in the early 1980s, so she probably didn't do much to impress the commercial banking manager, a tiny-nosed man of her generation named Trent, to whom David, in the midst of an attack of inappropriateness, offered a meagre dowry if he'd ”join the Weiss team.”

For this reason, and because they had ignored her earnest desire to stay out of the fitness business, Madison was not speaking to her parents.

”Come on, darling.” Abby turned and reached for Madison's hand. ”Why so glum? You've got to take the world by the nuts. Embrace change, make it your own.”

”That Trent was a good-lookin' fella if you ask me,” said David.

In the alley, as David stopped to press the garage opener, Madison escaped with the dog. Before she slammed the door closed, both her parents called out to her. But their spirits were una.s.sailable. They exited the garage holding hands, talking to Madison and Garith as though they were both dogs.

Madison already had her key in the lock when she turned and spotted Carol the Courier. Carol dropped her bicycle on the sidewalk in front of her parents' house and approached the mailbox.

”Dad, the university courier is here again.”

David stopped kicking snow in Garith's face, one of the dog's favourite games, and hurried to the front of the house. Abby and Madison followed him.

”What is this?”

Carol the Courier shrugged.

The brown envelope from the university appeared thin. David shook the envelope before he ripped it. He peered inside and then suggested they go in the house, on account of the unpleasant wind.

Abby put some water on the stove to boil and they sat in the living room, Madison across from her parents. David pulled out two pages. ”A media advisory.”

”We're not the media.” Abby took the pages and scanned them while David stuck his hand into the envelope looking for anything else. She scooched in close to her husband on the chesterfield. ”Uh-oh.”

Madison shook her head. ”What?”

”They're making an announcement tomorrow afternoon at the Faculty Club and we're invited.”

David took the pages back. ”What are they announcing?”

”A decision on the Garneau Block.”

Madison looked across the street, at Rajinder's house. He would be downtown at this hour, 10:50 in the morning. The artists-in-residence would be arriving right about now with giant coffees, walking into their studios as though they were about to attend their own funerals. Raymond would be manic.

And Rajinder? Planning lunch with the gorgeous twenty-five-year-old daughter of a wealthy Edmonton family? Interviewing gorgeous twenty-five-year-old candidates for the next artist-in-residence cycle? Watching French movies starring gorgeous twenty-five-year-olds who could speak proper French?

Merde alors.

Behind her, David and Abby speculated on whether the announcement would be positive or negative.

”They wouldn't have a press conference on a Thursday if it was negative,” said David. ”I mean, in politics that's a disaster. You always release bad news on Friday at 4:30 in the afternoon, even later.”

Abby stood up to tend to the boiling water in the kitchen. ”Now we'll have two things to celebrate, the loan and the block.”

”And our grandchild.” David joined Madison at the window and rubbed her hair. ”We can't celebrate that enough, can we, Maddy?”

”I guess not.”

David kissed his daughter on the cheek. ”I'm sorry we won't be here for your ultrasound.”

”I'd rather be in London myself than have an ultrasound.”

”It's a business trip, remember? We're checking out a couple of spas that offer math and science tutoring. Very innovative.” David seemed to grow tired of hearing himself talk. Madison felt her father staring at her left cheek, and eventually he poked her arm. ”Sorry I embarra.s.sed you with Trent.”

”Didn't you see his ring? Or my muumuu?”

David looked at his watch and put his jacket back on. ”I better flee, Bruce Lee. A couple of federal Liberals want to meet me for coffee.”

”What are you talking to Liberals for?”

”Maybe they want to know how to have a somewhat less c.r.a.ppy political party.”

David hurried into the kitchen to kiss Abby, bent down to wrestle Garith for a minute, and opened the front door. ”Can you believe your dear old dad's driving a Toyota Prius?”

Then he whispered so Abby wouldn't hear. ”Inbred SUV salesman queered the deal by calling it girl names. Next thing you know I'll be eating tofu.” He shoved his index finger down his throat a couple of times, produced a convincing gag, and bounded out the door.

82.

higher education Raymond strode into the Faculty Club a conquering hero. They had fired him, yes, but he had risen from darkness to smite them all. His dismissal had inspired the most creative period of his professional career, and as he walked through the doors, in one of his new suits, with his chest puffed out the way his father had taught him, Raymond smelled roast beef, mashed potatoes, horseradish, fresh bread, and victory.

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