Ben
Montreal - One week until Christmas
I got off the train at Montreal Gare Centrale and there was no redheaded pixie throwing themselves into my arms. Which was to be expected. As far as she was concerned I was arriving at five o'clock tomorrow afternoon, where she would be waiting to pounce on me. Instead I was sneaking into town the night before.
I made my way through the station, rolling my suitcase beside me, heading in the direction of the taxi stand. I wondered exactly how pissed off she was going to be when she found out I did this. We hadn't seen each other in three weeks and she was already pretty cranky with me. Even the patented "firm daddy voice" had only taken some of the edge off her bad mood.
It couldn't be helped. She had final projects and exams. She had to do well on these things; it was a non-negotiable aspect of our relationship. But I was still worried. She sounded so miserable last weekend. School stress, I suspected those bitches in her class were still making her life difficult, and she relied so heavily on being little when she was stressed. I felt like the worst daddy in the world.
I got in the cab and gave him the name of the hotel I was staying in. I knew Ashley could be strong when needed; it was just a matter of remembering to tap into that at times other than when she thought I was being threatened.
My phone vibrated. I texted Ashley earlier this evening to wish her luck on her exam, so I doubted it was her. I checked my screen - Meg.
"Still on for Monday?"
After my weekend in Montreal, I was flying down to Toronto to see some friends before Christmas. From there it was a flight out of Pearson Airport to Vancouver to see my parents. Ashley, to her mild disgust, was heading back to Saskatchewan to spend the holidays with her mom. Neither of us was particularly happy about the situation. It was a lot of running around and we weren't looking forward to it. If we were being honest and selfish, we both would have preferred to just spend the holidays at my house and ignore family obligations.
"That's the plan. I arrive late that afternoon." Meg was putting me up for a couple of nights, saving me from dealing with Toronto's ridiculous hotel rates.
"The timing of your arrival is raising questions.
"People are curious why you aren't coming in tomorrow to hang out for the weekend."
God forbid any of them reach out and talk to me directly. But most of them were still nervous around me. I'd lost more than a few friends over the last two years because of my 'behaviour'. I was probably about to lose some more. In the meantime, they were still nervous about chatting to me directly. Meg was acting as an intermediary, something she had mixed feelings about.
"Look at them, being all clever," I replied.
"Ben, are you sure you're ready for this?"
Which was Meg's polite way of asking "Are you still a goddamn lunatic and having sex with that girl?" My trip to Toronto wasn't about telling them who I was with, but it was about laying the groundwork so they wouldn't be completely scandalized in a few weeks time. It was hard to turn back after I did that.
It sounded ok in theory. I had doubts the reality of it would work.
"Absolutely. What's the worst that could happen?"
"How quickly you forget," came the answer almost immediately.
Fair enough.
***
Near Kingston - Seven weeks earlier
I was dimly aware of bouncing happening on my bed. I'd taken a few painkillers the night before, which I hated doing. They made me groggy as hell the next morning. But if there was ever such a thing as an absolutely justifiable reason for hurting your knee, fucking my teenage girlfriend against the side of a church was right up there.
"Perfectly legitimate reason," my doctor would say. "Here, have a crate of painkillers, just in case there's a next time."
The fact that sentence seemed funny to me made me aware that I was going to wake up silly, which happened with painkillers sometimes. But there are worse ways to wake up than having my cute little girl bounce on the bed to wake me up.
Right up until the moment she loudly whispered "Ben, you have to get up."
Ben. Not daddy.
Shit.
I pulled myself slowly out of my coma to see Ashley kneeling on the bed next to me. She was wearing my apron and nothing else. If it wasn't for the look of panic on her face, she would be good enough to eat.
"What's wrong Ashley?" I managed to get out.
"Your friend Meg is here. In the kitchen. And, um, she might have seen my ass," she said.
I've never had an adrenaline needle to the heart, but I imagine it feels something like being told by your half-naked teenage girlfriend that your late wife's best friend is waiting for you in the kitchen. I can't recommend the experience, but it'll focus you in a goddamn hurry.
"Ok,"I said, sitting up and getting out of bed. I began looking for clothes and quickly threw on a t-shirt and some pj bottoms. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a wreck. But there was nothing to be done about it. Meg wasn't going to patiently wait while I got a shower and got myself together.
I rubbed my face and then glanced over at the bed. Ashley looked stricken, like she had just turned me into the cops or something. I walked over to the bed and kissed her on the head.
"It's going to be ok, Ashley," I said. "It's just Plan B."
"Are you in trouble?"
The previous refrain went through my head - half-naked teenage girlfriend. Late wife's best friend. Oh, I forgot to add she was a divorce lawyer, so she was absolutely getting her cross-examination all prepped while I was in here. I wasn't in trouble; I was totally fucked.
"It'll be fine, I promise. She'll give me some shit, but I'll explain things to her," I said.
Ashley looked skeptical, probably because I wasn't awake enough to lie properly yet. I told Ashley she should get dressed and hang out here while I chatted with Meg. I started to head towards the door when a thought hit me.
