Blenheim

Author's notes: Blenheim, is a real town in Ontario, not far from the Detroit border crossing. The TTC and GO are public, inter-city transportation networks. TeleHealth Ontario is a phone service staffed by registered nurses. E-mail bank transfers are a real thing in Canada. GTA = Greater Toronto Area, not Grand Theft Auto ffs. And I said what I said about Canadian Tire, fight me.

"Pretend you don't see them," Celeste advised her older sister while supportively clutching her hand. Xia Peng stared straight ahead at the double doors leading into the downtown Toronto family court, the dread in her stomach churning like a blender.

"My belly's on smoothie mode," she muttered, more to herself than her little sister.

This is going to be the day,

she counseled herself.

This is the last day I ever have to see that disingenuous bastard.

"I can't believe he keeps bringing that ho of his," Celeste fumed while glaring daggers at Xia's soon-to-be ex-husband and his affair partner.

"That's not necessary," Xia said without averting her gaze, her voice a mix of numbness and despondency. "

He

made a promise to me; she didn't. And she wouldn't have been able to do a thing if he'd had an ounce of character to him." She paused, a tiny smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "What I can't believe is he chose to screw a woman named Rachel, fully knowing his name is Ross."

Celeste giggled and the two women exchanged the same knowing look they'd been exchanging since they'd met 33 years ago. But it was fleeting.

"I'm 35 soon, Cel," Xia sighed. "Mom is beyond disappointed in me getting divorced when she was gunning for grandchildren. More disappointed than she was when neither of us got the hang of Mandarin."

"Mom can bite me," Celeste unapologetically pronounced. "She was gunning

so

hard for grandchildren that she all but told you to use forgiveness sex to get pregnant!"

"Yeah, I was so shocked I couldn't even cry," Xia recalled, giving her sister's hand a squeeze. "I didn't tell you then, but I really want to thank you for standing up for me."

It had been a little over a year ago that the sisters visited their mother's home to inform her that Ross had been having an affair for 10 months, and that Xia was going to file for divorce. After their mom had begged Xia to change her mind and then try to have a baby to save the marriage, Celeste had calmly stood up and taken her sister's arm to leave.

"Mother," she'd said, "you don't understand. Xia didn't come here for advice. We came here to tell you that this bloodline ends with us. This is not your world anymore and we will no longer suffer to make you happy."

As they'd got in the car, Celeste blocked their mother's number while Xia was still speechless. After a few days of incessant texts, Xia decided to block her mother as well. She'd convinced her sister a few days before this hearing they should at least unblock her again to let her know the divorce was a done deal.

Xia Peng versus Ross McCaffrey, room 602,

the courthouse PA system called out. Xia gathered her things and hurried inside to take her seat at the applicant's table, determined to only make eye contact with the judge and court staff at the front of the room. All she had to do was hold it in a little bit longer.

"Ms. Peng," the judge furrowed his brow at the file in front of him before looking over to her, "I want to make absolutely sure of the details before I finalise the dissolution of this marriage. Is what I'm reading correct? You're willing to give Mr. McCaffrey the entire marital home, minus your personal belongings?"

"Yes, Your Honour," Xia drew herself up to her full height of 5'6." It was likely the only thing her mother was proud of her for, since she'd often told friends her elder daughter was "tall for a Chinese woman."

Celeste had insisted on smoking up Xia's almond-shaped eyes today and using a curling iron on her long, black hair. She'd wanted Ross to see what he was missing, but Xia knew the effort would be futile. He'd made his decision.

"But you also put money into the house, haven't you?" the judge pressed. "I'm seeing here you paid for half of it, and your property taxes and utilities came out a joint account?"

"All that is true, Your Honour." Xia's focus was more on her poker face than giving the judge a fulsome answer.

"Then it would not only be easy for me—not to mention fair—to order Mr. McCaffrey to buy you out of your home since I understand he's still living there with his—"

"Skank," Celeste mumbled to herself. Xia turned to her sister wide-eyed, praying the court microphones hadn't picked it up.

"—girlfriend?" the judge continued.

"Your Honour, I'm willing to waive all of that," Xia maintained. Upon seeing the judge arch his eyebrow, she went into the detail she'd wanted to avoid earlier. "What I really want is for this divorce to be finalised and for today to be the last day I have to come to court. Every day I come to court, I lose out on that day's income.

"The respondent doesn't have to worry about that, because I understand he's being supported by his girlfriend while he's unemployed right now." She was tempted to look at Ross's face, but keeping her reply concise was more important.

"If a condition of finalising our divorce is that it will drag on while the respondent comes up with the money to buy me out, I'd rather not have that. I want nothing from him, and no further connection to him. And with all due respect, Your Honour, I also never want to return to court after today."

The judge sighed in an apparent state of indecision, and Xia sat down. She didn't dare look to her left at the opposite table. She knew Celeste would give her a full report later.

"Here's my final order," the judge announced after a few minutes of scribbling, which allowed Xia to exhale in relief. Final order meant this was the last time she'd have to endure a court visit.

"Although I don't feel it is in the interest of fairness, I will concede to the applicant Xia Peng's request that the respondent Ross McCaffrey take full possession of the marital home and all chattel with the exception of what she entered the marriage with." Xia almost stood up to race out of there as if she'd stolen the judge's watch.

"However," the judge went on, "I will hold the respondent to a payment plan that will see him sending the applicant equal monthly payments for her fifty percent of the house's purchase price, over the next six months in the waiting period for the divorce to be final." This time, Xia saw Ross almost jump out of his chair, despite not turning her head.

"The dollar amount of these payments will be determined by the Family Responsibility Office. Missing a payment will result in the suspension of the respondent's driver's license."

Celeste turned to her older sister, wide-eyed but looking as though she wanted to applaud. The FRO was typically only involved for child support but the judge was clearly making an exception.

"The parties no longer have to appear after today," he continued reading. "If either party wishes to appear before me again in the next six months, they will first be required to submit a day's wages to the other party through FRO."

Fuuuuuucck,

Xia thought, bolting out as the court clerk called her name to give her a copy of the judge's order. Yes, she'd be getting a giant amount of money from Ross, but that would mean she'd potentially have to be in contact with him for another six months. Moreover, he might drag her back to court and subject everyone to another day of whining as to why he couldn't pay.

Xia wasn't in a hurry to leave because she was aghast at the judge's order, however; she was in a hurry to leave to prevent another incident of—

"You planned this, didn't you?" a dreaded voice caught up to her outside the courtroom doors and trailed her down the hallway to the elevator.

Ironic that Janice on that show was the one with the annoying voice but in my case it's Rachel,

Xia thought, her anxiety rising.

"If you couldn't see that I sat there and heard all the same information you heard, I can't help you," she muttered, hitting the down button like it was attached to an arcade game.

"Bullshit," Rachel bit off. "Do you know how much money Ross is on the hook for?! He'll have to sell the house and—"

"Hey, bleach-blonde bitch," Celeste came up to the two women just as Xia ducked into the elevator. She considered committing arson to unlock the fire stairs so she could get the fuck out of there. "You're a patient girl, aren't you? Not just with limp dick back there," Celeste continued to antagonise Rachel, "but with how you painstakingly put makeup on both your faces every morning."

"It's a rough enough day without your attack dog piling on the insults, Xia," Rachel started.

"I'm not insulting you; I'm describing you," Celeste said crisply, pushing the button for the ground floor once they were inside the doors. Being trapped in an elevator full of people might have inspired restraint in others, but Xia knew that wouldn't be the case here.

"Ross doesn't deserve this," Rachel continued, albeit a bit quieter. "Can't you go back and insist this entire thing be over? You don't even need the house and we do."

"Wait a second, are you suggesting my sister give up hundreds of thousands of dollars of her own money so you and her cheating ex-husband can fuck in peace?" Celeste's voice rose, and so did the discomfort of the other eight people in that metal box.

"There's two sides to every story!"

"Yeah, and he's an asshole in both of them!" When Rachel looked up to the ceiling in response, it only spurred Celeste's ire. "Keep rolling your eyes, ho, you might eventually find a brain."

That one received titters from a few people in the elevator, but perhaps only because it had already stopped and everyone was barreling out. Xia fast-walked through the lobby, knowing those two would have to take their quarrel outside since they were both following her.

"Will you shut up?" Rachel finally spoke directly to Celeste. "Can't she fight her own battles?"

"Oh, absolutely, I can," Xia had finally had enough of this. "But this isn't a battle because I've already won. Do you think I can't see that the only reason you're out here while Ross is straggling along in there is because you're desperate to lighten your own financial load?" Xia stepped squarely in front of Rachel and looked her in the eye, knowing she'd hit a nerve.

"He's getting to be expensive, isn't he?" the side of her lip curled upward. "It was a lot easier to borrow him than own him, huh? Let me guess—he seems to think a good fuck will stop your nagging him to clean up after himself in the bathroom, but that's not quite doing the trick anymore, is it?

"That's the difference between you and me, Rachel," Xia turned on her heel and clasped her sister's hand. "None of us are cactus experts, but at least I know a prick when I see one. I'll be waiting for next month's cheque in the mail."

***********

"Cel, did you

have

to start things the way you did yesterday?" Xia asked her sister over dinner the following evening. They'd been packing her things for part of the day, and shopping for things she'd need in her own place for another chunk of the day. After all that effort, they'd decided to just have sandwiches that night.

"Between the two of them, my phone has been buzzing non-stop today, and I get enough of that when I'm on shift," she glanced at her screen before ignoring it and continuing to scrape peanut butter on her toast. "Haven't you heard of, 'when they go low, we go high?'"

"Said by someone whose opponent had some shame. That doesn't apply to the most annoying couple on

Friends

over there." Celeste replied, appreciating the giggle her sister tried to stifle. "When they go low, I'm drilling for oil. Especially where it concerns you."

Xia grinned in spite of herself, then simply stared at her sister, trying hard to appear unimpressed.

"I didn't start anything; Rachel did. And as I recall, you ended it in a way worthy of a viral online video. Let 'em stew," Celeste advised. "Or turn off your phone. I don't know how I'd deal with doing what you do, locked in a cube all day talking sick people down without actually being there to help them."

"What I do is what's allowing me to move to Blenheim," Xia unscrewed the strawberry jam bottle and grabbed a spoon. "I've been at Telehealth long enough that when the work-from-home option popped up, I jumped."

"But you'll be away from me!" Celeste protested.

"I'll be away from Ross," Xia countered. "And mom. And really everyone. Mom is too old to drive the three hours to check on Grandpa's property, and it needs to be maintained if she ever wants to sell it at a good price. And I need a place to live."

Celeste put down her avocado and looked at her sister.

"I know, I know, I can always stay with you," Xia acknowledged.

"Fuck that, you can

live

with me!" Celeste offered for the hundredth time. "We both make good money; why don't we just get a bigger place together in one of the suburbs, but still along the TTC line or near a GO station?"

The sisters had already had some version of this conversation before, many times. But this argument was made further redundant by how they could tell what the other was thinking with just a blank look.

"Right," Celeste sighed. "I need to give you your space. I'm sorry. I just... I love you and I'll miss you. You were my first friend and you'll always be my best friend." Xia put her arms around her sister.

"Right back atcha. Look, I'm not going out to the sticks forever. But looking after the farm is a job no one wants to do, and needs to be done. It's coming along at exactly the right time for me too." Celeste gave Xia a little squeeze in return.

"Text me as much as you can," she ordered, as she held her. "Not just updates about the farm, but about how you're doing. Hopefully Ross won't drag you back to court, but if it means seeing you again soon, I guess he'll be useful in some way."

"It'd be a first," Xia snorted.

She barreled down the 401 West the following evening, the smell of freshly manured fields wafting through her open windows in the August dusk. When the expanse of southwestern Ontario sprawled before her with fewer and fewer highway exits along the way, Xia found herself wondering if she truly was making the right decision.

She was prepared to stay in a motel not far from her grandfather's property that first night, as she was not in a mood to do battle with whatever may have infested the house after months of no visitors. But she did pull up to the farmhouse first, if for no other reason than to stretch her legs following her three-hour trek.

I can shoo out any critters that may be living there,

she pondered as her riding boots sank into the softened mud in front of her parked car,

but dear god, those toilets better still be flushing.

She dug her fingers into her purse, slung crossways down her torso. The daylight was fading and Xia squinted down at her purse pockets when she saw it—a large figure whooshing by in the cluster of elms beside the barn.

Was that a deer?

her mind immediately went to her bolt-action rifle in the backseat of her car,

or a person?

The bushes fluttered again and Xia stepped back to retrieve her gun. She hated guns, and hated even more that it was Ross who had taught her how to use it. But since 5'6" and 125 lbs didn't exactly scream intimidating, she didn't protest when Celeste insisted she take the rifle with her.

Wrapping one hand around the barrel grip and the other around the handle, Xia's finger hovered over the stainless-steel bolt while she surveyed the land.

"Who's there?" she called out. "Hello?" Her main focus was controlling the adrenaline that threatened to surge through her if she saw something else move out there. But she never did. Minutes passed, and Xia finally lowered her gun.

Toilets,

she thought, emptying her lungs with air she didn't even know she'd been holding in.

Put the gun away, do a walk-through, check the plumbing, find the closest motel. In that order.

Exiting the house under a half-hour later, she warily looked back toward the foliage by the side of the house. But the sun was struggling to glow over the horizon by this point and she wasn't about to go searching for trouble.

As her car sped off, the bushes rustled again. Then again, and again, this time accompanied by a groan as the man who'd been hiding in them stood and raised himself to his full height of 5'11". His deep tan forehead glistened with a thin sheen of sweat.

Jesus fucking Christ,

Yannick Ouelette thought in relief, taking off his baseball cap for a moment to gently massage his scalp through his wavy, black locks.

I knew the white folks were trigger-happy, but little Asian women?

It wasn't the longest time he'd hid perfectly still amid a bunch of greenery, but he was admittedly out of practice. He could have slowly come out and identified himself as a realtor, but he was Métis first—and it wasn't worth the risk to get shot at anyway.

Yannick walked back toward his truck, which he'd parked further up on Harwich Road, thankful he'd remembered the age-old advice to remain as out-of-sight as possible. Everyone knew him in town, but this new lady didn't.

He took one last sidelong glance back at the house, then at the 70 acres that surrounded it. It was refreshing to see at least one other minority around this part of Blenheim, but as pretty as that Asian woman was, she didn't seem anywhere near as friendly.

Maybe it'll be a tough acquisition, but you've had tougher,

Yannick thought, wondering if his slim-fit suit was already pressed. He'd take another shot at this tomorrow.

***********

Who do you have to blow to find a hardware store around here?

Xia thought the next morning as she rode her brakes down what she surmised was the biggest street in town.

I'm fitting every goddamn stereotype about Asian drivers right now.

Cruising at about 15 kilometres per hour, her eyes scanned past a dollar store, pizza place, and church.

And then they briefly hovered on a man with wavy curls that just touched the shoulders of his suit. He was likely the only other person on the street at that time of the morning, which was a boon considering how slow she was driving. Xia rubbernecked as their eyes locked, then snapped her head back just in time to hit the brakes at a red light.

Not that I'm risking anyone's life out here,

she thought, putting her hand over her eyes and looking to her left. Then to her relief, she spotted a Canadian Tire up in the distance. The gratitude she felt at seeing this familiar—albeit sometimes sub-par—retailer in unfamiliar territory almost made her laugh out loud while parking.

Xia knew she was talking to herself in the aisles while she weighed which toolbox she wanted, but it was barely 8 a.m. and there were only another one or two people in the whole store. Instinctively, her eyes darted up to see a young man in a light gray suit who was walking by the end of the aisle. She was two aisles over before it hit her.

Was that the same guy from the street just now?

Yannick ducked behind an inflatable water tube when he noticed her peek out the end of the cleaning aisle. Contemplating how long he should stay there wasn't unlike the previous evening when he contemplated how long he should stay in the bushes.

Why the fuck am I always hiding from this woman?

he chastised himself. The store was near-empty, meaning it'd only be a matter of minutes before one employee or another would begin following him around, regardless of how well-dressed he was this morning. He picked up an air fryer and decided it would be his shield.