OCTOBER 27, 1995
Nancy steps off the bus onto Union Street, pink-cheeked and smiling. She’s got her backpack slung over her shoulder. Elodie waves, her heart filling at the sight of her girl. Nancy spots her and rushes over. She drops her backpack on the ground and hugs her mother.
“Let me look at you,” Elodie says, pulling away slightly but still holding onto her.
She’s tall and lanky, wearing high-waisted jeans and Doc Martens, just like Véronique wears. Her hair, once blond, has darkened to a warm nut brown. She has traces of all of them in her features—Gabriel, Maggie, Elodie, and, she sees now, Dennis. The Irish coloring, a splatter of freckles on pale skin, bright blue eyes, red lowlights in her hair. “You’re so beautiful,” Elodie murmurs, tugging Nancy back into her arms. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me, too,” she says.
“I’m glad you came.”
“How could I not? My flight was only ninety-nine dollars.”
A couple of Canadian airlines offered huge discounts to fly Canadians to Montreal for today’s Unity Rally. The flood of support from Canadians outside the province is supposed to show how much they care about Quebec and hopefully persuade Quebeckers to vote No in Monday’s referendum. It’s yet to be determined if this last-minute “love-in” will sway the province’s undecided voters.
The polls are showing it’s neck and neck, with Yes slightly ahead. It could go either way. Unlike 1980, when the No side was the clear front-runner, this referendum is going to be dangerously close. Even three days away, no one knows what’s going to happen. The overriding sentiment everywhere in the country seems to be one of grave tension, a looming dread that Canada may be days away from separation. Even Elodie has found herself swept up in referendum fever—watching coverage on the news, discussing it with her friends. Everyone has an opinion. Elodie is going to vote No. In the end, it was Nancy who swayed her. It means a lot to her, keeping the country together. She’s worried about the economy if Quebec separates; worried about her future, Elodie’s future. Nancy said to her one night over the phone, “You’re voting No, right, M’ma?”
“I’m not sure,” Elodie responded, afraid to admit she wasn’t planning to vote.
“What do you mean you’re not sure? If Quebec separates, I’ll never be able to come home.”
“Why not?”
“I won’t be able to build a life in the midst of all that political and economic chaos,” Nancy said. “I certainly won’t start a family there, not with everything so uncertain. Canada is going to cut Quebec off and let them fend for themselves, that’s what the federal government is saying. Quebec can’t survive without federal support. Why would I ever come back to that?”
Come back? Build her life here?
Elodie was stunned. She had resigned herself to Nancy staying out east, making a life for herself in New Brunswick. Nancy seems to have a different plan.
It was that simple for her. Having made her decision, Elodie was immediately committed to it. Now, when she watches the news and it’s reported that the Yes side is gaining momentum, she feels anxious. She wants Nancy to come home for good.
“How are you?” Nancy asks her as they set off for the rally. “Anything new?”
Elodie doesn’t mention what’s been going on with the Duplessis orphans. There haven’t been any significant wins or positive developments, so why bother? Old habits. The only other news she has is about Nancy’s father, Dennis. His return to Elodie’s life was so fleeting and surreal she still sometimes questions whether it really happened. They talked for more than an hour that day, sitting across from each other in that booth, until she could see that his pain and discomfort were becoming unbearable. When it was time for him to leave, they hugged goodbye as though they’d known each other their whole lives—and in some ways they have—and then he left. They didn’t exchange numbers or pretend they would ever see each other again.
As much as she hates keeping this secret from Nancy, she doesn’t have the heart to tell her that her father survived Vietnam but only has a few months left to live. It seems less cruel to say nothing.
“Tell me what’s new with you,” Elodie says, looping her arm in Nancy’s, the way she does with Véronique.
“I’m still working at Sears, and I’ve been taking English classes in Shediac.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“No, Bouctouche is too small.”
“They still have boys, though.”
“None I like. Anyway, I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Your generation is so codependent.”
“What’s that?”
“The way you all think a woman needs a man to be okay.”
“I don’t have a man. I never did.”
“So why do you care if I have one?”
“Because I want you to have someone to take care of you. It’s easier.”
“That makes no sense,” Nancy says. “It’s old-fashioned.”
“Look at your grandparents. Maggie and Gabriel were so happy together. They were best friends, and they took care of each other. That’s what I want for you.”
“Why didn’t you want it for yourself?”
“I didn’t know how to be in a relationship,” Elodie admits.
Nancy stops and turns to face her. “Well, you do now,” she says. “And you’re good at it.”
Elodie touches her daughter’s cheek, but Nancy—not one to linger in sentimentality—turns around and says, “Can you unzip my bag? I made a sign for the rally.”
Elodie unzips the backpack and pulls out a small sign on white cardboard. It says NEW BRUNSWICK LOVES QUEBEC!
Nancy holds it above her head as they join the crowd, which is slowly forming a parade in the middle of the street en route to Place du Canada. The morning sun is bright white, glinting off the downtown high-rises. The air is mild except for a gusting wind—a reminder that winter is on the horizon. They quickly find themselves swept up in a throng of patriots, waving their No banners and homemade signs. UNITED WE STAND, DIVIDED WE GET OUR BUTTS KICKED. MY CANADA INCLUDES QUEBEC. VOTE NO SO WE DON’T BECOME THE 51ST STATE! TORONTO LOVES QUEBEC! PLEASE DON’T GO!
Elodie reaches for Nancy’s hand, not wanting to lose her in the crowd. She hates big crowds. She’s already feeling unsettled. People are chanting as they approach Place du Canada. “Ca-na-da! Ca-na-da! Ca-na-da!” A man walking beside them has a red maple leaf painted on his cheek; he’s pumping his fist in the air as he chants. All around them, VOTE NO stickers are plastered across foreheads; some people are wrapped in red-and-white Canadian flags, others in Quebec’s blue-and-white fleurs-de-lis. An airplane passes overhead, trailing a banner that says STRONG, PROUD & FREE in French and English.
Elodie is starting to feel emotional. “I never knew people cared this much.”
When they reach their meeting place at the statue of John A. Macdonald, the square is absolutely mobbed. People are perched on the statues of Macdonald and Laurier like pigeons, hoping for a better view. A massive Canadian flag is surfing its way over the crowd, which is probably in the tens of thousands by now. Everyone is belting out the national anthem in French, loud and proud.
Elodie spots Stephanie standing on the monument above the crowd, waving a maple leaf and a fleur-de-lis flag. James and Maggie are waving them over, two dots in a sea of red and blue flags.
When they’re all together, James hoists Nancy up onto the monument so she can have a better view of the rally. Nancy and Stephanie coolly acknowledge each other.
“Can you believe this turnout?” Maggie asks her, attempting an embrace. “There must be fifty thousand people here.”
The hug is a little too long and tight for Elodie’s comfort. She has trouble looking Maggie in the eyes. There’s an awkwardness between them that didn’t used to be there, at least not since the early days.
“I’ve never seen an Anglophone waving a Quebec flag before,” Elodie says, turning to James.
“And you never will again,” he responds, taking a picture of someone wearing a T-shirt with the slogan ON T’AIME QUEBEC. He’s got the camera around his neck and a tape recorder in his hand.
“You’re here as a reporter?” Elodie asks him.
“And as a No supporter.”
“I guess Véronique isn’t here?”
James laughs out loud at the question. “No, she’s not. She’s as far away as she could get.”
“I hope you guys will be okay regardless of how it turns out.”
“Of course we will,” he says. “It’s just politics.”
It seems like it’s much more than just politics to Véronique, but Elodie doesn’t say so. “What happened with your story about her father and the October Crisis?” she asks. “I looked for it on the anniversary of Laporte’s murder.”
“My editor decided to hold it,” James says. “He didn’t think the timing was right with the referendum looming. He felt it would be too divisive. It’ll run some time in November.”
He takes a few more pictures of the expanding crowd, scribbles some notes on a small pad. He turns to a guy in a Vancouver Canucks sweatshirt. “Why did you come today?” he asks, in perfect English.
“I had to,” the guy says, choking up. “I love Canada. I love Quebec. I just needed to be here. If we can convince just one Quebecker that we care about this province, it’ll be worth it.”
The crush of people is starting to make Elodie claustrophobic. The RCMP officers are setting up metal railings near the stage. A woman is already giving a speech up there. “Our French and English duality,” she blusters from the podium, “is what makes Canadians so special and so different from our dynamic neighbor, the United States of America! This duality is why we want to stay together!”
The crowd is going wild. Elodie glances up at Nancy, who’s on her tiptoes on the statue of John A. Macdonald, cheering louder than anyone else. Elodie loves her spirit. She’s always had it, this unwavering exuberance for life. Elodie did right by her, shielding her from her past. Maybe she gets some of it from Dennis, too, the same kind of loyalty and patriotism that leads a young man to enlist in an unwinnable war.
A couple of guys carrying flags from Yellowknife jostle past, accidentally shoving Elodie into the people in front of her. They apologize and shake her hand, and when she mutters something back to them in French, they say, “We love Quebec! We love you!”
Elodie is not faring well in the mob, though. She wants to escape, can’t take her eyes off the empty streets just beyond the square. She doesn’t want to disappoint Nancy. Leaving early to be by herself is exactly the sort of thing she hates to do, but her heart is galloping, her throat starting to constrict.
“You okay?” James asks her, just as the prime minister takes the stage.
“I think I’m going to head home.”
“Chrétien is about to give his speech. This is such a historic day, El—”
She ignores him and reaches for Nancy’s ankle. Nancy looks down at her from her perch on the statue. “I’m going to go,” Elodie calls up to her. “I’ll meet you at home later, okay?”
“You’re leaving now? Why?”
“Too many people,” she says. “You can tell me about it when you get home.”
Nancy nods, understanding, but Elodie doesn’t miss the shadow of disappointment across her face.
As Elodie pushes her way through the crowd, she can hear the prime minister rousing the people: “Quebec is our home, but Canada is our country!”
The crowd starts to thin out at Mountain Street, so she turns and flees the downtown core. She decides to walk home. The weather is holding up and she’s starting to calm down, breathe easier. The fresh air feels good on her face, in her bones. She inhales deeply, enjoying the breeze. She just wants to feel like herself again.
In the distance, she can still hear the echo of the prime minister’s promises: “We will make the changes that are needed so that Canada can move into the twenty-first century united from sea to sea!”