Courtney struggled to close the zipper on her suitcase. She wasn’t going to let the airline sucker her into paying for checked baggage, so was cramming everything into a carry-on. She flipped open the top and dumped everything out on her bed, forced to start over. God, could she never catch a break? She tucked socks into shoes, filled every nook and cranny with underwear, and sat on the lid. Grunting, she tugged on the zipper and then heard the telltale pop-pop-pop of a seam. Looking down, she saw an expanding hole where the zipper was detaching from the suitcase’s frame. “Damn it all to hell,” she muttered. “Cheap piece of shit.”
“What’s the problem, babe?” a voice from the other side of the bed mumbled.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll fix it.” Then she paused to think. Rick had gotten sex twice last night, plus a blowjob. Certainly that earned her a present? “Unless you felt like going to the mall to buy me a new suitcase? Something with wheels, please, that’ll work as a carry-on. And fast. I need to leave for the airport in an hour.”
He sighed and got up. Though Rick was growing on her, Courtney was glad to watch him go. She could use the hour without him to straighten up the apartment. She didn’t want Alex coming home to a bunch of clues that there had been a man having sleepovers here. Alex might figure it out anyway—he was clever—but she wanted to keep him in the dark for as long as she could. He always had so many questions. But she was also anxious to have Alex home, even if it did mean being more discreet.
“Soon, baby, soon,” she said out loud to no one. She couldn’t believe Alex had been gone for nine months. At this point she just wanted to sweep him up into her arms for the world’s longest hug. They’d been apart too long, even with their Skype calls, but she’d saved nine months of childcare fees while Flo and Tinker looked after her son. Courtney could tell they’d become attached to Alex and was glad that he had more family to love and look after him now. Her plan was working. She sat down at her kitchen table and quickly wrote Flo and Tinker a letter she slipped into her purse. This was one she’d hand deliver.
Courtney opened the window to try to get some air moving through her apartment and looked up at the cloudless sky. A hot gust hit her like a hairdryer blowing at her face and it carried with it the sound of a toddler screeching from the apartment next door. She closed the window in defeat, craving air conditioning. Courtney felt a bead of sweat trickle down between her breasts as she cleared ashtrays, emptied garbage cans, stacked dishes in the sink, and started putting away all the clothes she’d dumped on Alex’s bed in his absence.
The light pouring in from his small bedroom window was illuminating dust, and she grabbed a damp rag and ran it over the framed picture of Russell with a newborn Alex in his arms. If Russell were still alive, he’d hardly know her now. She’d settled down a lot and was currently only dating Rick. Monogamy took some getting used to, as did protected sex, but she made damn sure he always wore a condom. Alex was the biggest blessing in her life, but one unplanned pregnancy was enough for her. She could barely afford to care for him—scratch that; she couldn’t afford to care for him. Daycare in Toronto on her measly salary had bled her dry. If she got knocked up again, she’d really be screwed.
It was a real mindfuck when Russell died. He’d only just accepted that he was Alex’s father and was coming around to the idea of co-parenting when the explosion happened. It seemed like her destiny to have anything good in her life snatched away.
The door opened. “How’s this?” Rick asked, pulling a red, wheeled suitcase behind him.
“It’ll do. Thanks for that.” Courtney walked over and kissed him. His mouth tasted like coffee and she liked it. Rick was a sweet guy. One day she might even let him meet Alex. She kissed him some more and began to feel a familiar longing when he swept his tongue through her mouth.
“Noooooooo, I don’t have time,” she said, already knowing resistance was futile. Rick grabbed her hand and pulled her into her bedroom. He ripped off his shirt and flopped backwards onto the bed. Courtney crawled on top, straddling him with her knees, and kissed his chest, his neck, and his earlobe. He ran his hands underneath her shirt, and hoisted it over her head. She felt her nipples harden. She reached into her bedside table, grabbed a condom, and ripped the package open with her teeth. It would be a mad dash to the airport.
Alex woke up happy. His mommy was coming today. Today! He climbed out of bed smiling, and went down to the kitchen to see who he might find there. He hoped it’d be Charlie. Charlie was so cool, and sometimes would play with him. Yesterday they’d found an old magnifying glass in Tinker’s workshop. It was Charlie’s idea to use it to play detective. He’d dressed up Alex in one of his old coats, tucked a notebook and one of Tinker’s stubby pencils in the pocket, and put a funny hat on Alex’s head. Grandma and Grandpa laughed when they saw him and took some pictures. Charlie told him about Sherlock Holmes, the most famous detective ever, and called Alex “Mini Sherlock.” It might have been Alex’s favourite day yet in Cape Breton, and he’d had plenty of good ones. Maybe Charlie liked him for real now and not just because they were brothers. Sometimes Charlie got sweaty and felt sick and then they had to stop playing, but as long as he was feeling well, Charlie said yes to lots of things. Even Snakes and Ladders.
Alex heard voices in the den, so he stopped outside the door and pressed his back up against the hallway wall. He was gathering clues to see if he could figure out what Grandpa and Grandma were saying. They were speaking with their inside voices but he was a good detective so could make out lots of their words.
“…entitled to a portion. How can we deny her that? She could sue us if we’re not careful,” Grandma said.
“After all we’ve done for her these past months, looking after Alex? She wouldn’t dare,” Grandpa said.
Were they talking about his mommy?
“She mightn’t have a choice, Tinker. I don’t think she can support him on what she earns. If we can help, we should.”
“With what? Some sort of allowance?”
Alex knew what allowance was. He’d never gotten it but he knew some other kids did. Free money—it sounded awesome. It would make Mommy happy to get allowance. Alex strained his ears, but they were saying things he couldn’t understand no matter how hard he tried. Words like “trust fund” and “compensation” and “wrongful death” and “custody” were confusing.
“Whatcha doing, Mini Sherlock?” Charlie asked, sliding up alongside him against the wall.
Alex dragged the tips of his thumb and index finger across his lips like he was zippering them shut. They both stood still and listened together.
“We need to cash it out, Tinker. It’s time. Our chequing account’s in overdraft and our credit card is racking up a big balance. I take some responsibility for that, but I’m not truly sorry. Family needed our help,” Grandma said.
“That money’s supposed to be for Charlie and Nell’s wedding. And to help them buy their first house here.” Tinker’s voice sounded sad.
“That’s your dream, Tinker. You might need to let it go.”
Charlie grabbed Alex by the arm and dragged him along the wall and towards the kitchen. It hurt Alex a little and he felt scared. Charlie had never been rough with him before. Charlie turned on the kitchen radio, which drowned out their grandparents’ conversation.
“Listen, Squirt, there’s a difference between playing detective and eavesdropping. I should have explained that to you yesterday.”
“What do you mean?” Alex felt his bottom lip shaking.
“That was a private conversation between Grandma and Grandpa. If they wanted us to hear it, they wouldn’t have been off on their own,” Charlie said.
“Are we in trouble?” Now Alex felt worried. He hadn’t meant to be bad.
“No, we’re not in trouble. But stick to looking for clues that you can see. Like those grey clouds in the sky,” Charlie pointed out the kitchen window. “What do they mean?”
“That it’s going to rain later?”
“Yup, looks like. What say we pound back some cereal then play outside while it’s still dry?”
“Okay.”
Charlie poured their cereal and they chewed quietly. The song finished on the radio and the announcer’s voice boomed: “A traffic note from the Inverness RCMP: Be advised there are cows on Route 19 between Falkirk Cove and Port Hood. Please take care driving through that area.”
Charlie and Alex looked at one another and started to laugh.
“You know what we should do? Go looking for those cows and when we find them say, ‘Moooooooove over cows. You’re blocking our road,’” Charlie said.
Alex giggled even harder, his head hanging low and mouth still full of Cheerios. He looked up when Catriona walked through the back door into the kitchen.
“Hey, Charlie, I didn’t know you were home. What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Cat! It’s good to see you again. What’s so funny? Just some udder nonsense,” Charlie answered, pretending to milk a cow.
In the throes of his giggling fit, milk leaked out of Alex’s nostrils.
Catriona didn’t get the joke but couldn’t help herself from laughing along with them. “Am I still babysitting you today, Alex?”
Alex knew it was time to settle down, but he couldn’t stop laughing. How could laughing hurt your belly but also make you feel so good, both at the same time?
“Charlie and me are gonna save some cows. Wanna come, Catriona?” His head dropped forward again and his shoulders shook as he was overcome by yet another fit of laugher.
Catriona raised her eyebrows at Charlie, who merely shrugged his shoulders and waved them both out the back door. Alex extended his hands and both Charlie and Catriona clasped one. Linked together, the three of them strolled casually toward the road swinging their arms back and forth as they walked.
Flo and Tinker paused their argument long enough to hear the door click.
“Feels like all we ever do is fight about money these days.” Flo sighed.
“Maybe if you’d stop spending it like we’re millionaires we wouldn’t have to.”
“The settlement is no good to any of us sitting there untouched in the bank.” Flo cocked her head toward the window. “I think I hear a baby bird in distress. You hear that?”
Tinker strained his ears. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Sounds like ‘cheap, cheap, cheap.’ Oh wait. That’s you I’m hearing.” Flo stared at Tinker. He held her glare as long as he could, then scowled and slunk off to the kitchen to console himself with a cup of tea.