A month later, I finished unpacking the last box in my new apartment. It already felt like home.
The movers had helped place the heavy furniture, and I'd been able to arrange smaller pieces in a way that made them look like they belonged there.
Dad had the biggest bedroom, with space for him to turn his wheelchair. I took the second bedroom, which was oddly shaped but had a small nook perfect for my desk. It was near the window and would get morning sunlight, making it an inviting space to work.
Ben's toys and books were unpacked in his room and his kitten was asleep on his bed. Dad had taken Ben out to explore the new neighborhood.
Les had told me that a spot in the co-op's underground parking was included in the rent, but I hadn't yet picked up the remote that would open the garage door. I made a mental note to do that before the office closed today.
I was happy with how things looked. The green loveseat and chairs my mother had picked out for their retirement condo nestled in a corner of the living room. The oak bookshelves fit against one wall as if they had been made for that spot. I was heading for the door when I heard a knock.
It was Les, smiling widely and looking more than ever like a garden gnome. With him was a silver-haired woman who looked to be somewhere in her early sixties.
Les was holding something out to me. “I realized you hadn't picked up the remote for the parking garage, and I wanted to make sure you had it. And I wanted to introduce you to Gwen, the president.”
The woman was tall and slim. Her thick hair was pulled up in an elegant twist and secured with a silver pin that matched her dangling earrings. She was dressed in a linen tunic and pants in different shades of lilac. Her soft leather sandals were a deep violet.
“Oh, I'm so pleased to meet you,” I said. “I just love it here. Les has told me that everyone is really friendly.”
I saw the woman meet Les's eyes, and the manager shrugged slightly. “Well, we just wanted to make sure you were settling in,” Gwen said. “I hope you'll like it here. And you'll get to meet everyone at the meeting on Monday. You did get the meeting notice?”
I nodded.
“Great, well, we'll see you at the meeting,” Les said. “Just check with the office if you have any questions. Oh, and we wanted to give you a copy of the occupancy agreement you signed before you moved in.” He handed me a document about fifteen pages long. I remembered that most of it seemed pretty straightforward. I had agreed to pay my rent on time, to report any maintenance problems promptly, to keep my apartment in good shape. As Les had explained before, I would be expected to attend members' meetings and to participate in some committee work around the co-op. The document stressed that everyone would try to be considerate of their neighbors, but it outlined a dispute resolution process if I had a problem with the co-op or with one of the people who lived there.
That didn't seem likely, I told myself. I was going to love it here.
"Oh, by the way,” Les said, turning back. “I noticed on your application form that you were interested in gardening. It's pretty short notice, and I'm sure you just want to settle in first but the garden committee is having a bit of a work party tomorrow morning. Just some fall clean up, a little weeding and leaf raking. If you want to join them, they're starting at ten o'clock.”
“I'd love to,” I answered.
THE SUN STREAMING through my uncurtained bedroom windows woke me up early the next day, even before Ben was starting to stir. As I headed past his open bedroom door, I saw that Ben's kitten was awake. I quickly picked him up before he started meowing for attention. The gray-striped kitten was small but he was vocal when he wanted something. Ben called him Maui. Maui was a popular vacation destination for Vancouverites who could afford the trip. It was also the name of a Hawaiian demi-god. But Ben had named him after the sound he made. The spelling was my idea.
Holding him close to my body, I moved to the living room and sat down with the kitten on my lap.
I would need new curtains or blinds in here, I decided. The windows were wider than the ones in the condo. When Mom and Dad had sold the home I'd grown up in, they had rented that place. They planned to travel a lot, but they wanted someplace large enough for family dinners, for Ben to stay over.
Then Mom found a lump in her breast.
I looked at my watch. It was a delicate gold band that had belonged to my mother. It felt odd to see it on my wrist, but it somehow felt like she was close when I wore it. I sometimes thought I could still smell her perfume, a faint whiff of Chanel. It had been almost a year.
I blinked back the tears and stood up. I could hear Ben getting out of bed. It was time to get him ready for the day, and time to feed the cat.
Ben was scheduled to spend the weekend with Dave, so I wasn't surprised to see my ex-husband's number when my cell phone rang.
“Did you need the address again?” I asked, figuring he needed directions to the new place. “We're just off Commercial Drive.”
“Um, sorry Bec. I'm not going to be able to make it.” I didn't detect a lot of regret in my ex-husband's voice. “It's a work thing.”
Dave was a sports reporter at the newspaper I used to work at. Games were scheduled well in advance, so he usually knew when he would be working. But sometimes things came up unexpectedly. That was the nature of the job.
"So, when are you going to get here?”
“Well, I'm not sure how long this will take. It might be better to just skip this weekend. Let me talk to Ben.”
I knew Ben would be disappointed, but I was pleased Dave was at least willing to break the news to Ben himself. He hadn't been the most mature parent, and he usually left it to me to convey bad news. Dave was the fun parent, the one who took his son to hockey games and to the water park, the one who bought remote-controlled trucks and other expensive toys, who let Ben eat all the hot dogs he wanted.
I was the parent who cleaned up the vomit after the hot dog fiasco, who bought the batteries to make the toys run, who made sure Ben had dry clothes to change into after going to the water park, who made sure he ate vegetables.
It was clear that Ben looked forward to the time with his father.
"Daddy!” he cried, grabbing the phone eagerly. “Are you almost here? You should see my new room. Where are we going today?”
The look on my little boy's face broke my heart. “But when can you come here, Daddy? I want to show you my new room. And Maui wants to see you.”
Tears were gathering in Ben's brown eyes as he listened to his father. He handed the phone back to me and rushed to his
Dad came out of his room as I followed Ben down the hall.
“Problems? Need any help?” he asked.
I smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad. I think I need to deal with this myself.”
Ben was sprawled across his bed, crying in the abandoned way children have.
“Why doesn't Daddy want to see me?” he asked.
I silently cursed Dave for putting me in the position of having to explain. “Daddy said he had to work.”
“All weekend?” Ben was a smart kid.
“I guess so. But, guess what, Benjy-bear? That means we get to spend more time together. So you can come help me do some gardening and meet some of the neighbors. How about that?”
Ben was a good-natured kid. He soon dried his tears and was smiling again.
He put on his shoes, and we went out into the hallway. As we were leaving our apartment, I saw someone heading to the door on the other side. She was a small Asian woman in her sixties, her chin-length dark hair heavily streaked with gray.
“Hi,” I greeted her. “Are you one of my neighbors? We've just moved into the co-op. I'm Rebecca Butler.”
I stuck out my hand, smiling in what I hoped was a friendly manner.
The woman scowled and hurried past me to the door on my left. She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her with a bang that echoed through the hall.