9

Outside the clinic, Bonnie stares at the photo of the dog on her phone. Whisper is, as always, looking directly at the camera, slightly bored. A silver BMW pulls into the lot. Bonnie slings her backpack over her shoulder and walks cautiously to the car. She gets in, but is careful not to look at her mother. Lynn doesn’t say a word until they leave the lot, but Bonnie has an idea of what’s coming. Her mother’s shoulders are set with tension. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was just gonna take the bus back but I forgot my pass.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” asks Lynn, who thought that Bonnie was adjusting just fine to life in Toronto and the only thing she really had to worry about was a mild red cedar allergy Bonnie had developed last year.

Bonnie shrugs. It was an easy procedure, simpler than she’d thought. It’s like her insides had been scraped raw, but the cramps were no more painful than usual. “I thought I could handle it, is all.”

Lynn deliberately doesn’t look at her daughter when she speaks next. “You thought I’d judge you,” she says softly. “Because of everything I went through to adopt you.”

Neither of them says it, but it’s in the air. Because Lynn could not have children. Because Bonnie is the result of an assault against her biological mother. Because Bonnie had a choice where Nora didn’t. And someone to drive her home from the clinic afterward.

Lynn pulls onto the side of the road. The unusually warm weather this fall is starting to break. Toronto is cooler now, but not cool enough for snow. Rain splatters the windows as they stare straight ahead, not daring to meet each other’s eyes. She puts her hand over Bonnie’s and squeezes it lightly. “I would never judge you, sweetheart. Never. It’s your body, your decision. Okay?”

“Yeah, I know. I just didn’t want to get into it. Can we not tell Dad?”

Lynn sniffs. “Why would we? It’s none of his business.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Bonnie says, somewhat relieved. Her father is still in Vancouver, probably still screwing his boss. She no longer blames her parents for their marriage breaking apart—that was little kid stuff—but that doesn’t mean she is any closer to either of them. Especially Everett, who was the parent that she’d trusted the most until she’d found out last year that he’d been having an affair. She had overreacted to the news, in a spectacular way. She had run away to meet her birth father, who had turned out to be a monster. It is a time in her life that she tries not to think about.

“If anything happens, I just want you to know that you can talk to me. That’s all.” Lynn pulls the car back onto the road. “Are you hungry?”

“It’s too late to eat. I just want to go to bed.”

Lynn looks at her out of the corner of her eye as they drive to their condo in the artsy neighborhood of Leslieville, but says nothing in response.

Bonnie has an unsettling feeling that has nothing to do with the clinic—or what had come before. That was a relief, more than anything else. This past summer she had seen her old boyfriend Tommy, who wanted to be called Tom now. It was clear to them both that it was over, but they still missed each other. Bonnie hadn’t planned on having sex with him, but she didn’t regret it. They just weren’t as careful as they used to be.

No, she decides now. She feels a bit tired, is all, but she’s not unhappy about what happened back at the clinic. Her impulse to reach out to Nora had been a surprise, but it’s really Nora’s response that’s bugging her. Nora usually takes her time to reply. To catch Whisper in good lighting and looking at the camera is no easy feat. This photo came much quicker than normal, as if Nora had been waiting for Bonnie to send her something. As if she had been waiting for it and preempted her response.

As they drive home, Bonnie can’t help but wonder why.