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On Canada Day, Lincoln took the steps to his apartment two at a time. He'd left early—before Kali and Theo had risen, before the traffic going out of the city became a burden. And he'd been right to return to the city in the late afternoon, while people were busy setting up their barbecues or heading to the park for free concerts, while the highways and roads were clear.
He'd had a good day of work, a great day. His body was finally getting back to where it was meant to be. The perfect holiday treat. Kali and Theo would be out somewhere, enjoying the festivities, and Lincoln would have the place to himself. He’d blare a record—even Sandy from downstairs wouldn't complain on a holiday—let the music and the water flow over him, and relax.
Romper barked and did a little dance when they reached the landing. Odd. Lincoln turned the key and opened the door. Kali and Theo sat on the living room floor, a large puzzle before them. Romper ran to Theo, who gave him a little pat, then moved his attention back to the puzzle.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Kali looked up, “wow.”
Lincoln looked to his clothes. Dirt stained. Sweat stained. His arms were no better. “Been working.”
“At the lot?”
“Uh huh.”
Kali nodded and brought her attention back to the puzzle. She held up a piece. Theo stared at it then pointed to a spot. Lincoln rubbed his arm, still standing in the doorway. It wasn't a big deal. With all the hours he'd been putting in at the lot, and Kali arriving home shortly after him the past few days, he hadn't had the place to himself in too long. But it wasn't a big deal.
Lincoln stepped toward them. “There's a concert at the Commons. Big bouncy castle too.”
“Yeah. Usually is.” Kali kept her gaze on the puzzle.
“Bet Theo would like it. You two should check it out.”
“It's pretty crowded.”
“Yeah, but—”
Theo pulled on Kali's arm. He did a little bounce.
Kali looked to him. “It's so noisy. Tons of kids. I don't think you'd like it.” Kali made a crazy face. “And the concert. Drums. Boom, boom!” She clapped her hand against the floor.
Theo stared at her then dropped his gaze to the puzzle; he reached for a piece.
Noisy? So many kids? Shouldn't that be a three-year-old's dream?
Lincoln hovered over them. Kali looked up. “Good day of work?”
“Yeah.”
He swallowed. Looked to the door. He couldn't kick them out. But he wanted his record. Wanted his space.
“Want to join us?”
“No, uh ...” Lincoln kicked off his work boots and headed toward the hall. “Going to shower.”
When he emerged from his bedroom less than a half hour later, Lincoln went to the fridge. His head ached. Dehydration, most likely. A tall glass of water—he searched the produce drawer—with cucumber would do the trick. He closed the fridge door and jumped. Kali stood smiling at him, un-phased.
“You have any plans for dinner?”
“No.”
Lincoln took the cucumber to the cutting board and set down the pitcher of water.
Kali leaned against the counter. “I was thinking something special—since it's Canada Day. Or at least a little special. I know you don't have a barbecue, so I asked the lady downstairs, Sandy. She's nice you know.”
Lincoln didn't look up. She was so close. Why was she standing so close? “I know.”
“She said we could use hers. I got freshly made burgers.” She paused. “From the meat department.” Her hand rested on the counter, just in his line of vision. “Partially so as not to buy a whole box. Didn't want to keep asking her.”
“Smart.”
“You in, then? As it's Canada Day?”
Lincoln shifted away. “Burgers sound great.”
“I got some beers, too. For after Theo's in bed.” She hesitated. He could feel her gaze on him. “Maybe indulge while looking out at the fireworks. You've got a perfect view here.” She smelled good. Cinnamon and coconuts. What was it—shampoo? Some kind of body lotion? Lincoln shifted farther away. He glanced at her, lips pursed. She tilted her head. “You okay?”
“I'm fine.”
“Sorry.” Kali pushed off the counter, her easy mood gone cold at his sharp response. The tension shot from her like arrows. “I was just trying to be nice. I know you expected us gone by now. But if you have plans or you don't want to join us, you certainly don't have to.”
Lincoln let the air stream out of his nostrils. He tossed the cucumbers into a glass and turned to Kali. “No, burgers sound great. I had no plans.” He paused. “Thanks. For the invite.”
“Sure.” She shifted, arms across her middle.
“I'm heading to my room for a bit. Let me know when dinner's ready?”
Kali grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and sent him a false smile. “As you wish.”
Meat drunk, and buzzed from three cans of beer, Lincoln lay against the couch. “Those burgers were good.”
“You've said that.” Kali grinned. “You know, this may be the first time I've had more than one drink in an evening since before Theo was born.” She made a noise like a satisfied cat. “Since before I found out I was pregnant, I suppose.”
“What's the occasion?”
She held up her can. “Why the birth of our nation, of course.” Liquid sloshed from it.
“And that's your third. And you've hardly touched it.” Lincoln laughed. “You're a lightweight.”
Kali wiped drops of beer from her arm and smiled. Oh, that smile. This time, not in the least bit false. “I suppose I am.”
Lincoln pushed himself up and set his beer can down. He glanced to the room where Theo lay sleeping. “So this afternoon, avoiding the bouncy castle. Noise is a problem?”
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“I'm not that drunk.”
Lincoln reached for his can again. “I'm just asking.” He took a swig. “I care about the kid.”
Kali set her can on the top edge of the couch. “You do, don't you?”
Now it was Lincoln's turn to smile. “Hard not to.”
“Mmm.” A muffled blast sounded. Kali stepped to the window and pushed up the glass. The breeze ruffled her shirt and hair. “Ahh,” she held her hands out, “how have we not had these open all night?”
“I like them closed.”
“Sometimes.” Kali twisted toward him. “When the salsa's blaring. That's when you like them closed.” She waved a finger. “There's a story there. But I won't ask. Even though I want to know. Even though I love the sound of salsa.”
She leaned her hands on the windowsill and stuck her head out. “I used to love fireworks. Canada Day was my favourite day. One year my mother took me down to Alderney Landing. I was maybe seven. And it was beautiful—all the people and the music. She bought us hot dogs and hamburgers. My mother never bought me anything when we were out. But that day she did.” Kali twisted toward Lincoln, smiled, and turned back to the music. “And then the show started. All the lights. The colours. The sound that shot through me like a canon.” She lifted her arms. “It was one of the best moments of my life.” Her hands fell. Stayed there. Several more blasts sounded.
“Sounds like it was a good night.”
“It was.” She kept her back turned. “Something happened that night. I don't know what. Mom was gone for a few minutes. She told me to stay put. Then she was gone.” A pause. “When she came back something had changed. She yanked me away before the fireworks had ended and we rushed toward the bus stop. She wouldn't talk to me. Would barely look at me. It was something bad.”
“You don't know what?”
Kali shook her head, gaze still out the window.
“You never asked?”
Another shake. A succession of explosions, one after the other filled the room. She stared into the following darkness. “A sexual assault? Drug deal? News of my father? Maybe she even saw my father.” Her knuckles gripped the sill. All the way across the room he could see her skin go tight. “No idea. I never asked. She never told.” More bangs. Kali turned, a huge smile across her face. “Come to the window, Lincoln. You're missing it.”
Lincoln took a breath and crossed the room.