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Ten minutes later Lachlan re-joined Arlana in the car, counting out money from his wallet. Crisp money.
"Here, this is for your pictures," he looked away, omitting the fact Arlana's husband had paid her, even indirectly. There was his conscience again. Barreling forward, he continued, "So, we are going to head to Quebec today. I'm covering the migrant border crossing. Just give me a minute to head back and grab our suitcases and check out and then I'll meet you back here."
Arlana nodded, biting her lip. Quebec? Seriously? She immediately thought of Jaira. How close would they be to her sister's place? Maybe they could drop by and visit for a bit before they had to leave. No, it was impossible. William hated her guts. Their sister relationship was incredibly tense the last time they'd spoken. Arlana was tired of always being the one to apologize, whether or not she was in the wrong. Things were different now. She'd wait for her sister to reach out to her, but she apparently was waiting in vain for an apology.
The funeral had changed everything, and with a sigh, she realized there was no turning back. Life would never be the same again. Maybe it was for the best, but even as the thought entered her mind, she knew it was a lie.
"Where exactly are we going?" She asked Lachlan as he turned onto the highway.
"Montreal," he glanced at her for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. "Are you thinking about your sister?"
Arlana nodded, "It's okay though. I doubt she goes to Montreal often...It's just the thought of being in the same province..." she didn't finish.
Lachlan understood. He'd seen the sisters together over that one weekend and could feel her pain at their estrangement.
"Things have a way of working out," he glanced in his side mirror before merging into the next lane.
"I hope so, but I can't see it happening. This was the fight to end all fights."
Lachlan chuckled at the way she worded it.
"Don't worry your head, things will work out," but he didn't believe his own words, more concerned about her stress level, "I have a surprise for you," he grinned.
"Really?" Her eyes widened, sparkling.
"We are making good time. I think we will be able to make a stop before we need to be on site."
Aziel was listening from the backseat.
"Are we going to stop to see Abba and Savta?" He called Josiah and Rivkah by their Hebrew names.
Arlana pulled her hand out of Lachlan's, their eyes meeting briefly.
She swallowed hard, "Aziel, I know you love them, and I understand that. They were very good to you, but they have their own lives and we have ours. Mummy needs to take pictures to make money. I am trying to make a good life for you and...well, we can't have both. Besides, we aren't Jews and I don't think we could ever measure up..." she knew she was choosing the wrong words, especially when Aziel began to cry.
"They didn't care about that Mummy! They loved me!" he sniffled, trying to stop the torrent of tears before the floodgates burst, "Savta loved you too, don't you remember?"
Of course she remembered. How could she ever forget?
Lachlan wanted to turn the car around and head back to the farm. Gripping the steering wheel with suddenly white knuckles, he bit his tongue.
Josiah and Rivkah couldn't be easily forgotten and they both knew it. They'd left a mark of love on Aziel's heart and Arlana couldn't hide her large belly. They could choose to forget, but the reality is, it was impossible.
Disturbed at seeing the torrent of tears falling down Aziel's cheeks, Lachlan was second-guessing their decision once again. He'd talk with Arlana later. She needed to go home.
"Would you like to go for ice cream?" He attempted to change the topic.
Aziel shrugged, swiping at his tears.
"Then ice cream it is," Lachlan changed lanes again.
****
HOURS LATER, THEY REACHED Quebec, Lachlan glancing at the time on his dashboard. He set his GPS, winding in and out of traffic-jammed streets until they left the tangle of cement and skyscrapers behind.
"I thought we were working in Montreal," Arlana frowned as they left the city behind.
"Aye, but I want to show you something first."
They drove for a while longer till the GPS indicated they turn left. Lachlan entered the cemetery gates, shutting off the car, Arlana looking at him quizzically.
"I thought you'd like to visit your great, great grandfather's grave before we go to work," his eyes met hers. She'd shared with him her passion for genealogy but she never expected this. In fact, she had assumed he wasn't really listening as she prattled on about her discoveries. The fact he cared so much and took such a great interest in her life brought tears to her eyes. He cared, truly cared, about her.
Hands linked, they walked carefully around graves, searching for the name of her departed ancestor, Aziel holding her other hand. At last, they stood before the weather-worn grave in quiet respect. Arlana had never met him, yet was emotional at seeing the neglected resting place.
Before turning to leave, Arlana pulled out her camera, taking a picture.
"Thank you, Lachlan," tears caught in her throat.
"Of course," he led them back to the car.
"Maybe there is a way that you don't have to marry Josiah," Lachlan was pensive after their stop at the cemetery. To marry Josiah would be to turn her back on her ancestors...on who she was.
He got it. Finally.
"You shouldn't have to leave everything for one man... " he pondered aloud, more to himself, "This is who you are. Your heritage."
Arlana nodded. It was a big part of who she was. Josiah would never have understood. They were from completely different worlds.
Lachlan, on the other hand, knew her heart. Understood. Maybe because he was also a Gentile, but some things were very important to her.
****
ARLANA HAD HER OWN bias before she entered the Montreal Stadium. Lachlan walked at her side, holding Aziel's hand. She usually took pictures on her own, then switched places with Lachlan, but the stadium was so large, they decided it was best to stick together.
Aziel's eyes widened as he looked at children, some the same age as himself, huddled together. Arlana squatted, taking a picture of a child holding a mud-crusted floppy bunny, and her heart squeezed with empathy. Of course, they should have entered Canada legally, but the children... She shook her head, turning away, taking pictures of the number of adults, then the rows of cots.
Lowering her camera, she took Aziel's hand in hers as Lachlan stepped forward, interviewing some of the refugees. Both she and Lachlan held strong beliefs on this issue, but at the moment, Arlana's heart cringed. RCMP milled through the throng, some standing at the entrance. All were solemn.
"Hold my arm," she instructed her son before raising the camera again, zooming in on the police presence, capturing the moment on film.
"What are they doing here?" Aziel asked, waving at a boy his age. The child didn't return Aziel's greeting, burying his head against his mother's leg.
"They are trying to find a better life."