The Fourth Part of Chapter 22: I Choose...

Patricia turned back to the television; it was 9:26, four minutes before the polls would close in British Columbia, and those results become public. The election team was discussing how the election had played out in Saskatchewan and Alberta; the Conservatives had captured most seats in both provinces, with two seats in Saskatchewan going to the New Democrats, one to the Liberals, and the balance to the Conservatives. Helena Perari was talking about the agricultural policies of the Conservatives: “Duff and his team took a comparatively free-market approach, saying that subsidies would be paid to the farmers would be reduced, but they still recognised that farming was a difficult occupation to make money in, but they should still receive fewer subsidies, such that they may become more competitive. Their tendency to keep the promises they make, at least at the provincial level, has likely played a role in their success thus far: the people like honesty, on the whole, and it pays to be consistent an honest, as Duff is surely realising as he reaps the fruit of his reward.”

“Their use of ‘competitive’ in this sense is a euphemistic buzzword meaning any number of things.”

“Daniel is right, and in this case, more competitive would mean more up to date, leaner, or any number of other semi-meaningless words. It helped them in the prairies despite the old adage of the two things that matter in politics: money, and something else that I can’t recall. They would be denying the farmers money in this promise, but given that all three Prairie Provinces are presently urban in nature, this did not cost them. By ‘urban in nature’, I mean of course that the vast majority of the populations of the prairies live in its five largest cities, with much of the remainder living in smaller cities, and only a small portion of prairie residents being farmers.”

“I think Jim told us that ‘competitive’ was an economic term used to describe the type of market upon which economists base their models.”

“Oh,”

James had said that this type of market did not exist in reality, but rather simply held up as some perfect condition under which the laws of supply and demand function flawlessly; to Ryan, it seemed a kind of economic utopia.

“We finally have results from British Columbia, and they are looking very mixed so far: of the province’s thirty-two ridings, the Tories are leading in fifteen, the Liberals in ten, the New Democrats in five, the Greens in one, and an independent is leading in one riding. In Yukon, the New Democrats are leading, and with that the national tally is: 109 seats for the Liberals, 120 seats for the Conservatives, forty seats for the Bloc Quebecois, thirty-five seats for the New Democrats, three seats for the Green Party, and one independent. We expect that over the course of the night, the numbers will change less, and the results that will come in later tonight and into the next couple of days will, unless the margin is razor thin, solidify the numbers we have already. Given this information, we can predict, barring a coalition between the Liberals and another party that the Conservatives will form the next government, and the prime minister will be Cameron Duff. Andrew?”

“Thank you, Derma. While there is a possibility of a coalition government, it does not seem very likely. The Bloc Québecois says it does not want to form part of a government, while Patrick Wakefield says the patronage scandal has left the Liberals’ reputation tarnished, and they needed to spend some time in the opposition. Unless Mr. Wakefield changes his mind, the next government will be conservative.

“Meach will probably live to regret his decisions to be loose with public money; it is a sin of which the public is especially unforgiving.”

“When you say razor-thin, you really do mean razor thin, right?” asked Geoff.

“Yes, by razor-thin, we mean margins of less than ten thousand votes across the country, which means, for example, Duff receiving two thousand more votes than Meach. That is not the case right now: Duff is presently fifteen thousand votes ahead of Meach in the popular vote, and that’s without all the votes counted; with all votes, the margin will grow substantially, and projecting the margin of victory to include the whole voting public implies a margin of about forty thousand votes. That’s not substantial, indeed it’s quite narrow given that we have been used to margins of victory in the millions of votes in terms of the popular vote, but Duff would still be the evident victor.”

Heron added, “Let’s keep in mind that the vote count isn’t everything; Trudeau won the popular vote in 1979, but Joe Clark’s Tories won more seats.”

“Yes, due to the vagaries of the first-past-the-post system,”

“Let’s now go to the Conservative campaign headquarters in Edmonton, where the conservatives are celebrating their victory.” The screen then changed to show the conservative campaign headquarters, and the silver-haired figure of Cameron Duff at a lectern in front of a large audience of cheering supporters.

“Tonight, dear friends, we have won a great victory. I would like to take this moment to thank all of you gathered here in a hall that supported the Conservative campaign during this election period. I would also like to dearly thank party supporters from all across the country. I would also like to thank Bruce Meach, Patrick Wakefield, Georges Valence, and Abethey Mazli for a vigorous, professional, and hard-fought campaign. Finally, and most importantly, I would like to thank the Canadian people for participating in this great exercise, no matter how cold it was; I know, for instance, that it was minus twenty-six in Montréal and Ottawa today, and it is minus forty-three outside right now, but neither temperature nor adversity, poor health or bad weather kept Canadians from the polling stations; indeed, the latest estimates show a voter turnout of eighty percent, the highest that Canada has seen in quite some time. This is a reflection of the quiet yet passionate way the Canadian people does politics, and I assure you, my party and I share your passions. As Canadians, we will move forward together in the great journey of Canada, and we will see new horizons with a strong Canada, a Canada at the forefront of the world, indeed, a great Canada. Thank you, my dear supporters, and good night.”

“What do you think of that?” asked Ryan.

“It’s a nice ending to a dramatic election campaign; one that they will be writing about in the history books, for sure. That was an inspiring speech that he gave.”

Meach will put up a fight, said Patricia to herself. One doesn’t relinquish power easily, especially when he can form a coalition with the New Democrats, the Greens and the independent. With the election campaign lost and won, there was not much else to see on television, and she had no ear for the prognostications of a number of talking heads.

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The Third Part of Chapter 22: I Choose...

“Now we will have a word from Geoff on the strategies of the campaign trail. Geoff, what part did policies play on strategy?”

“Policies played a major part in appealing to regional voters, as well as liberal and conservative voting blocs. The primary plank of the Tory platform was the elimination of payroll taxes, which is to say, the premiums that everybody sees deducted from their pay. This was particularly prominent considering anyone who has a job is reminded of these taxes when they receive their paycheques. It was thus politically flashy, and rather painted the Liberals into a corner, who were left to make noises about where they would find the money to cover what revenue stream was being lost from premiums. That this was a comment typically made by an opposition party, as Cam Duff pointed out, did not help the Liberals’ cause, and may foreshadow the Grits’ future role in the House of Commons. The Liberals’ policy of turning Canada’s Atlantic waters into a conservation zone was primarily aimed at environmentalists, a group which is growing in numbers very quickly, particularly after the collapse of the Atlantic fisheries last year. It is no secret that fisheries the world over are in poor shape, and the Liberals may have been trying to boost their international credibility in the eyes of fish lovers, environmentalists and conservationists the world over. Despite some traditionally obvious objections that reserving such a large area of our waters for the exclusive purpose of the conservation of sea life by banning all fishing would put a drag on the economy of the Atlantic region, there has been surprisingly little opposition there due to the collapse of their fisheries, which may explain the Liberal sweep of those four provinces, with the Conservatives leading in only two seats in the region right now. It may have also helped that the Liberals claimed that this new reserve would create tourism jobs, with people wanting to experience the wildlife up close. To use their words, they ‘want people to experience the seas as they are supposed to be: unimaginably teeming with wildlife, so thick with fish that they can impede ships in the way that Cabot was impeded’. As you can see, the Liberals are leading in 26 seats; the greens are leading in Cape Breton and the New Democrats have the balance.

“Speaking of the New Democrats, their campaign strategy was focussed on the manufacturing sector: they promised subsidies to industry, and they promised to protect domestic jobs. While this was popular in the more working-class parts of Ontario, it was not so among other regions of the country, such as Alberta; they are presently shut out of that province, most of those seats showing Conservative leads, and the other three showing Liberal leads, with five Tories now elected from that province. That strategy, while winning over substantial numbers of their traditional working class and socialist base, turned off many, indeed, almost all economists; during three weeks of discussions among several hundred economists, I was only able to find one voice supporting that policy, that voice belonging to the Canadian Auto Workers’ economist. For this reason, numerous economists, the Fraser Institute, the banks, the Conference Board of Canada, among others, all came out in opposition to aid to the manufacturing sector. All of these economists said it was protectionism and may violate the terms of numerous trade agreements that the Government had signed over the past several years.

“They also promised to invest in public transit infrastructure, as did the Liberals, but the promises made by New Democrats were much more substantial in this direction: they promised rail-based rapid transit investments in nearly every province, high-speed rail between Calgary and Edmonton, and along the Quebec-Windsor corridor, and the extension of Via Rail to Prince Edward Island, as well as new subway systems and substantial extensions to existing ones in the five most populous provinces. This promise was aimed primarily at the urban base of the New Democratic Party, and also aimed to appeal to populations along the rail corridors.”

“To give an update, the conservatives are leading or elected in 110 seats, the Liberals in 104, the Bloc in 35 seats, the New Democrats in 25 seats, and the Green party in one seat. We cannot predict who will form a government, as we are still waiting on results from B.C., which should be coming in fifteen minutes or so.”

“I don’t think there will be too much happening. I’ll go call Clarissa to see how she’s doing,” said Patricia as she left the living room. In the kitchen, she picked up the phone and dialled Clarissa.

“Hi Clarie, how are you?”

“Hi Pat, I’m fine. I’m watching the election right now.”

“I was, but nothing much is going on right now except for talking heads. Strategy is very interesting, but I would prefer to read it in the morning paper, you know?”

“I agree; reading Dan-Matt Night-Haig wax verbose with all of his sophisticated syllogisms is much more pleasurable than listening to him do the same. Isn’t it titillating?”

“Waiting to see who will form the next government, you mean?

“Of course. I really like the horse race aspect of it. You know, ‘Grits elected in twenty seats, leading in eighty-three more’, and all that.”

“So, the real reason I wanted to talk to you was simply because I wanted to hear from you. How are you? Are you still feeling down?”

“As long as you don’t remind me of my loss, I think I’ll make it through the evening just fine.”

“I trust you’ve been drinking water,”

“Yes,”

“Well, how’s it going?”

“Not so well at the moment; plenty of men look at my pregnant belly and think, no thank you. They don’t even ask about my income. I’ve been able to get past greetings with the more sensitive types, though.

“Oh, you know that thing with the leaked cabinet minutes? I’m a friend of Sandra Ward’s, who leaked those minutes, and she says the Prime Minister is quite the asshole. He constantly yells at staff, tries to control his cabinet with an iron fist, and demonises anyone who questions his integrity. I know that job has an unusual amount of strain, but this seems unacceptable; it’s like he has two sides to him: there’s the face he puts on for the public to see, and in private he’s this whole other person.”

“I guess that’s what you would call his public mask stripped away; I think the version of him revealed by the cabinet minutes is the real version of him.”

“Sandy also said he was losing his grip on reality. You know all those policies and that carefully crafted election platform he has? He doesn’t have a clue. He is simply an excellent actor who goes through all the lines and the proper gestures.”

“Clarie! Don’t you disapprove of gossip?”

“Well, yes, but you know, we’re all human. This may be damaging, as it has absolutely nothing to do with his policies, which I by and large agree with; it’s like an addiction, you know, and I confess I’m not entirely innocent. Nobody is. On the other hand, he works for us: it’s a simple employer-employee relationship,”

“Do you have any predictions for the outcome?”

“I predict a tumultuous Forty-First Parliament, but I’m sure you could have seen that already. As for who becomes prime minister, I think the numbers are trending to the conservatives, but I really don’t know; I voted for the Liberals, though only after much hemming, hawing and waffling. Is there anything interesting going on with you guys?”

“You know, it’s the same old, same old. Katherine is going into final exams with the high school science classes that she is teaching, which is always a bit of a stressful time for her, perhaps you can imagine.”

“Well, goodnight. I’ll be watching the political drama, and I’m sure you will be too. The television is showing Liberal headquarters right now. It sounds so quiet; I bet they’re all waiting on tenterhooks for the results to come in, just as we are.”

“Goodnight, Clarie. Take care.”

“Goodnight, Pat,”

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The Second Part of Chapter 22: I Choose...

After work that evening, Ryan and Patricia were seated on the sofa in their living room in front of the television. It was 8:59 PM, and the election results were just about to come on.

“Who do you think will win?”

“Oh, I think it’s anyone’s guess; the race really tightened up in the last week or so. I don’t think the mutiny of Meach’s ministers was particularly helpful to his campaign.”

The television cameras focussed on the host of the Election Night Coverage, Derma Head.

“Good evening, and welcome to CBC’s election night coverage. I am Derma Head, your host for tonight. Also on CBC’s Election Team are Helena Perari, Andrew Chadwick Heron, Daniel-Matthew Night-Haig, Evan Robert Durmer, Ford Dasker, and Geoff Toro. It has been a dramatic election campaign filled with all the usual promises, grandstanding and political soap operas. Today, you made your decision. With that, I will turn to Daniel-Matthew Night-Haig. Danny?”

“Good evening, Derma. This election has been punctuated with all the usual grandstanding, as you said, showboating, and a fair share of drama queens, but overlaying it was an additional palace drama, so to speak. It was about a week ago when Prime Minister Meach lost control of a large part of his cabinet over lingering feelings about the succession in the leadership of the Liberal Party. Andrea Colm, as you know, was forced out by what had turned out to be an over-ambitious Meach. This part of the drama had occurred five years ago, and it is all the more remarkable––and draws attention to what has been seen as the significant reticence of this government when it comes to releasing information––that the minutes of cabinet meetings were only made public ten days ago, which is admittedly a most inopportune time. It was said that the civil servant who posted the minutes on her blog, Sandra Irene Ward, was rather discontented with her job and the Prime Minister routinely victimised and bullied her. One might say that he planted the seeds of this mutiny four years ago and into the present by his attitude toward those around him, and he reaped what he has sown last week.

“The abandonment of Meach by his cabinet points to a dearth of management skills, and this had some play in the election. Meach had been gaining in the polls, which by last Sunday had him with a six-point lead over Duff, but now the race is neck-and-neck. The last poll, going into the election, had the Liberals and Conservatives tied with a 32% approval rating to each of them. The New Democrats went into the election with a 20% approval rating, the Bloc Québecois with a 8% approval rating, and the greens with a 6% approval rating, leaving only 2% undecided, which is the smallest such undecided subsection in the history of the poll conducted by Treiserd-Wiss. In short, who becomes prime minister is anybody’s guess: it could be either Meach or Duff. The approval rating of 20% eliminates Wakefield from contention for the top job, which I imagine must be disappointing for him; he and all other New Democrats were hoping for a breakthrough this year.”

“We have an update: the first polling station in Newfoundland has reported their results. These results come from Bay Bulls, a former fishing community south of St. John’s; polling stations in Newfoundland closed at 10:30 local time in order to be synchronised with the other provinces, and results from British Columbia and Yukon will be available in half an hour. The results from this particular polling station, with thirty-two voters, were fourteen for the Liberals, twelve for the Conservatives, four for the New Democrats, and two for the Greens. We will be receiving updates continuously throughout the night; the results from the Maritimes, Quebec, Ontario and Manitoba will be available in a few minutes, and the results will change dramatically. Now, we have preliminary results for the entire province of Newfoundland and Labrador, with the Liberals leading in four seats, the conservative leading in two seats, and the New Democrats leading in one seat. The results will also be displayed at the marquee along the bottom of your screen. Evan?”

“Thank You, Derma. The Prime Minister’s Atlantic strategy was focussed on conservation and the long-term preservation of the fisheries there. As you know, the cod fishery of Newfoundland was shut down in 1992, and the closure of most Saint Lawrence fisheries followed suit last year. Given this, Meach promised a comprehensive conservation and breeding effort to, as he put it ‘make fishing cod, haddock, and salmon economically viable for the foreseeable future’ by strictly banning all fishing within our exclusive economic zone, which was to be enforced by the navy presently stationed in Halifax.”

“What did you think of that promise? I was wondering how the government was planning to patrol three million square kilometres of water with only three ships and a submarine,” said Ryan.

“Maybe he was planning to use the coast guard patrol ships,” said Patricia.

“There was some opposition to that, which was very interesting; they were saying that it unnecessarily curtailed the fishermen’s’ right to make a living by fishing as much as they wanted. The problem with that is, there is no living to make, because the Gulf of Saint Lawrence and the Grand Banks are empty; that’s why the unemployment rate in the Maritimes is 27%; at least that’s what Clarissa said,”

“I think turning the Atlantic into a marine park would be a very good idea.”

“Hey look, there are more results; it looks like, all the way west to Alberta! The Liberals are now leading in 105 seats, and the Conservatives are also leading in 105 seats!” exclaimed Patricia.

“…And the Bloc Québecois has 30 seats, the New Democrats have 31 seats, and the Greens have two.”

Ford Dasker was speaking: “With preliminary poll results coming in from all provinces and territories save Yukon and British Columbia, the Liberals and Conservatives are still tied, at 105 seats to each of them. Given these results, the CBC cannot predict anything as of yet. We do not know who will form the government, or who will become prime minister. The only thing we can say with confidence is that the 41st Canadian Parliament will be a minority parliament, which means that whoever wishes to govern will need to form alliances with other parties. It is also noteworthy that the Green Party is leading in two seats, but we shall wait for that to change. That the results should still be so close with this many polling stations reporting is an indicator of how changeable the electorate has been. While individuals’ minds may not have changed significantly, the numbers for the Liberals and Tories were sufficiently close for the lead to vacillate a number of times throughout the campaign. As you remember, back at the end of November when this election was called the Liberals were leading by seven points, which is not that impressive, but would still guarantee their grip on power were the election held then. The lead has since narrowed, placing the Tories, Grits and New Democrats within five points of each other, between 26% and 31%, which changed by Christmas with the Tories in the lead. The Liberals leading at New Year’s followed that, with another swing towards the Tories ahead of Election Day; a tumultuous election season it was, indeed.”

“Horse races aside, Ford, what do you see in the next parliament?”

“I see more drama and more exciting question periods.”

“As you can see, the numbers are changing as we speak, and the Tories are now in the lead, with 112 seats. The liberals have now fallen to 100 seats. Now, at this point, we only have sufficient data to call 24 seats, so we would wish to emphasise that these are very preliminary numbers. As the night wears on, it should be noted that the numbers will become more ‘sticky’, so to speak, meaning that they are less likely to change dramatically.”

“We are still waiting for results from British Columbia, which are due in at 9:30 PM eastern time. As you can imagine, both Grit and Tory headquarters are on tenterhooks waiting for the results; this is shaping up to be a very long night, and with the battle lost and won, the dust will settle early tomorrow, possibly at 3:00 AM. Needless to say, I do not envy Bruce Thomas Meach or Cameron Duff right now.”

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The First Part of Chapter 22: I Choose...

Election Day, which was on Monday, January 16, arrived at last. It was a clear and cold day in most of the country, and would be remembered as the coldest day that year. Eunice, who was wearing thickly insulated boots, long johns, jeans, a thick undershirt, a wool sweater, two pairs of mittens, a light jacket and a heavy overcoat, walked to the polling station. She had made up her mind: she wanted Cameron Duff as Prime Minister, and thus would be voting that way. It was his general likeability, but more specifically it was his idea of eliminating payroll taxes; that was what really turned her on. Imagine, no more EI contributions or Canada Pension Plan premiums! This would be a boost to her convenience store, and would allow her to save on payroll; if those promises were fulfilled, she might consider giving Jared a raise. There were other plusses to be said of Duff, of course: among them was his policy of changing the inflation-targeting policy of the Bank of Canada to aim for price stability rather than an inflation rate of 2 per cent.

Mario was with Eunice at the polling station, and he watched his wife vote. When she was done, he walked into the polling booth; he was voting for Patrick Wakefield, as he liked the idea of expanded public transportation systems; it would be nice to get a subway in this city, he thought. The New Democrats’ environmental policy was also very similar to that of the Liberals; the New Democrats were essentially a cleaner version of the Liberals, and while he essentially agreed with Meach on most major points, there was still the patronage scandal to consider. The scandal was a very poor business, in his opinion, and he knew from conversations with his friends, his wife’s friends, and polls that this opinion was widely shared.

Hyram stood at the polling booth in a church basement on Finch Avenue, and drew an x in the box next to the conservative candidate, Fiona O’Brien, who he happened to know personally. He preferred their economic policies at this time; Duff’s campaign promise to get rid of most of the payroll tax was a good idea in his mind. He knew the payroll tax was highly visible; after all, it appears on almost all pay-stubs, and he knew this was a deciding factor for him and plenty of other people. That Duff was highly articulate certainly helped, and Meach had looked increasingly distracted from early in the campaign onwards. He dismissed the New Democrat, Patrick Wakefield, out of hand due to his trade policy, which called for protection of domestic workers against foreign competition that he said was needed in a “changing world”, whatever that meant. He, being a wealthy person, was more concerned about the government’s monetary and financial policies. It was for this reason that the elimination of payroll taxes appealed to him, and it was for this reason that targeting price stability rather than an inflation rate of 2% also appealed to him.

Patricia cast her vote in a desire to see her Member of Parliament, a liberal, re-elected, because she liked what Bruce Meach had been doing as Prime Minister; he had handled the recession well, he was conventionally Canadian abroad, which meant he was low-key, and he had managed to keep the deficit under control, which from what Clarissa had said, was a most remarkable achievement. He had not pleased all of his critics, of course: some people accused him of not doing enough; others accused him of doing too much; still others accused him of doing both of the preceding at the same time, which is a most remarkable accomplishment. Given these people were mostly opposition politicians from the New Democrats, the Bloc Québecois and the Conservatives, it was not a very credible accusation, and had a tone of political shrillness.

Belinda stood at the polling booth, and put an x next to the liberal candidate, Supreet Singha. She was something of a conservationist herself, and in addition to gossip, she enjoyed hiking and fishing, so the idea of setting aside the Atlantic waters for a wildlife sanctuary gave her a warm and fuzzy feeling inside when she thought about it. The New Democrats also had good policies, but Belinda saw little practical difference between them and the Liberals as far as her interests went; both of them promised funding for the expansion of rapid transit systems across the country, and although the New Democrats had promised that for more cities, both they and the Liberals had promised that this city would get a subway system like Montréal or Toronto, which would be nice on a freezing cold day like today. Why was the election being held on what was sure to be the coldest day of the year? It was minus twenty outside; I might die were it not for my coat, heavy sweaters, thick mittens, toque and long johns, she thought.

Mary stood at the polling booth at a school near her home in Kitchener and put an x next to the New Democratic candidate, Nigel Trawdeed. She, like many others across the country and in her riding, did not like the way that their previously elected Member of Parliament, Christopher Relk, had behaved. That he had retired after having served out only a year of his term, which should have lasted two years given the minority Parliament, was one thing. That he had done so after enthusiastically promising to serve as the people of Kitchener-Waterloo, as he had eloquently put it in a memorable speech during the last campaign, was quite another. It was still something else when he referred to his constituents as “the rubes back home”, as heard in a bugged room by an Ottawa Citizen reporter. Were it a mere isolated incident, she might have ignored it and voted for the Liberals again (who were represented here by Davis Breilach in the election campaign), to send a foot soldier for the larger Liberal cause, which admittedly seemed to change, but whatever; now, however, she was going to vote for someone else. The Liberals had grown too corrupt, too complacent, and had taken their support for granted too often, and she had heard of several other stories about the Liberals making disparaging comments about their constituents when they thought nobody was listening. It wasn’t just that; the New Democrats had promised money to build a light rail network in Waterloo Region, where there was presently a line under construction; they had promised a fundamental change in direction to the way we get around, and in Kitchener-Waterloo, this was going to happen with light rail service from Cambridge to Elmira, as was promised by Patrick Wakefield. The Liberals, in their conventional idea borrowing, had promised something similar, but the New Democrats had promised double the money in a partnership with the provincial government. That would mean bigger stations, better stations, more busses, and more and larger trains, she thought, and it would also mean less driving around, which she hated; getting behind the wheel always agitated her. The possibility of being responsible for the death of some helpless animal, or, heaven forbid, a person at nearly a moment’s notice unnerved her. She had never developed the good reflexes needed to react to sudden changes either, so she had had several close misses in the past, each of which made her tremble to think about them.

The Conservatives had promised to cut red tape, and this kind of thing appealed to people like David; they had promised, for instance, to streamline the bureaucracy by making job responsibilities clearer, while not making any major departmental changes, which he thought were done for the sake of it, or else to please the powers that be. “Streamlining bureaucracy” evidently meant that some of the civil service would be laid off or sent to work in other departments that were understaffed, which was a good thing, he thought. Without knowing the specifics, there was always bound to be some department overstaffed, while another was understaffed. There was also the issue of the scandal; the Liberals had become corrupt, Meach had become too distracted from running the country and the very real diplomatic impasse with the Germans––he had called the European Union “as dead as the dodo” in an emotional outburst to the German Foreign Minister––in August, which had done nothing to enhance the Canadian image abroad. It did harm to international credibility to have an increasingly unstable person running the country. It was true that his government had balanced the budget after the recessionary splurge, but that was more the work of the Minister of Finance. For these reasons, behind the voting screen, David voted for the Conservatives.

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The Third Part of Chapter 21: The Public Forum

Ronald Boe thankfully stopped the answers to the question, which had devolved into bickering. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “The next question is from Lilianne, in Bathurst, New Brunswick.

“Bonjour,” said Lilianne on the video feed. “My question is about taxes, and is directed at all leaders. The latest efforts to balance the budget after the recession entailed tax hikes by Meach. What are you going to do to reduce the tax burden on the middle class?”

“Since the question was directed at all leaders, we shall give each leader thirty seconds in turn to answer, starting on the left––my left, that is––with Cameron Duff.”

“Thank you, Ronald. Citizens, as you know, the tax burden has fallen increasingly on the middle class. With our promised cuts to payroll taxes, we hope to relieve some of that burden; we anticipate that the additional jobs created, and additional economic growth will pay for these tax cuts, leaving a positive impact on government budgets, leaving more money spent on government programs that all Canadians like,”

“Next, we have Bruce Meach.”

“Thank you for your question. As you know, the recession had a hard impact on government finances, and last year’s tax hikes were a part of a necessary effort to get the government’s finances balanced; now that the budget is balanced, all Canadians can look forward to tax cuts at some point in the future under a Meach government. Such cuts will be responsible, prudent, and sensible, rather than splashy and grandiose.” Meach looked at Duff meaningfully as he said this.

“Mrs. Mazli,”

“Thank you, Nia. The Green Party has long been an advocate of shifting the tax burden onto carbon emissions, and this was promised but not delivered by successive Canadian governments. The Green Party, with members elected to parliament, will advocate on behalf of this policy,”

Margaret was again distracted from the television, and looked outside, which she was able to do, as the ground sloped away from the street, giving them and their neighbours walkout basements; the snow was lit orange by the street lights outside; this part of the winter was the hardest for her to endure; the weather was dry, the air was cold, and the temperature had not risen above freezing for over a week; there was also the sun, which had set shortly before five that evening. Such weather could not be good for the mood of the electorate, she thought; it was probable, and she hoped––for she had little love for Meach––that the public would be disaffected enough by a midwinter election campaign to vote him and his cabal out of office.

The debate continued, with the requisite bickering, policy pronouncements, and rhetoric, which while occasionally high-minded, was mostly occupied with partisan sniping, which impressed Margaret little and Hyram not at all. Meach said, in response to an insinuation by Duff and Wakefield that he didn’t care for Europe, that it was a tale told by an idiot, and anyways, wasn’t true. Actually, it was more accurate that he yelled it, being highly agitated at the time. By the time the debate was finished, Meach was looking much the worse for wear, the other leaders having finished relentlessly dissecting, criticising, and pointing out the weak points in his policy, his personality, and almost everything else about him. Margaret thought that Duff came out looking the best; Hyram thought Valence performed the best, but as the Bloc only fielded candidates in Québec, Hyram would be voting for Duff, although he had made up his mind on this before the election was called.

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The Second Part of Chapter 21: The Public Forum

The debate had turned to job creation; although the recession was over and the economy in what economists called the recovery phase, unemployment was still stubbornly high, due to employers being reticent about rehiring people and due to structural changes in the economy that usually accompany recessions.

Cameron Duff said, “What we need to do is make it easier and cheaper for employers to hire; right now, when an employer hires someone, there is a seven percent gap between the cost incurred by the employer and the wages earned by an employee, and I believe we ought to give the seven percent back,”

“Then where will the revenue for Employment Insurance and the Canada Pension Plan come from?”

“Mr. Wakefield, there are plenty of better things to tax than people’s wages,”

“That would still deprive us of twenty billion dollars every year,” said Meach.

“Well then, there are other government programs to cut, and I can promise that unlike the Prime Minister, any government that I run will be squeaky clean,”

“Any implication that my administration is rife with corruption is entirely untrue; the incidents that you do hear about are entirely isolated, and––”

“Then why don’t you tell us why only one of those people that you appointed to consulting positions retired, and it was Angus Ross for health reasons? You have so far failed to answer, and it’s only by sheer luck that this issue isn’t ruining your personal reputation,”

“Actually, Georges, I think his reputation is a write-off by now,” said Abethey Mazli.

“Lady and gentlemen, that is enough, and with that we will move on to the next question, which is from Myron who lives in Sudbury,”

The question was a poorly phrased one about government accountability, and it was directed at all of the leaders. Duff answered first.

“Thank you Myron, for your very pertinent question. I promise that if I become Prime Minister, I will strengthen the role and the powers of the auditor-general, whose already ample powers played an integral role in throwing this government’s shady practices into the light of day. I also promise to resign if any of my cabinet becomes as corrupt as Meach’s is now. In fact, if any minister or other appointee is anything other than squeaky clean, with the best of puritan work ethics, I will ask him to resign.”

“You will ask him to resign?”

“In my opinion, a lot of women in politics are more trustworthy and open than men, in addition to being more competent, so it’s unlikely that I should ask any female cabinet member to resign, Abethey,”

Margaret turned to her husband. “What do you think of that promise?”

“It’s government; there’s bound to be waste somewhere in the system.”

“All the while other parts of government remain under-funded,”

“Hey, I read in the paper this morning that the President of France called the Prime Minister a pig,”

“The President of France? He reminds me of that drawing of Rumpelstilzkin in that kids’ book,” The President of France, in Hyram’s opinion, resembled the Lorax.

At this point Meach became whiny and apologetic, and in Hyram’s view, inexcusably so.

“It can only be said that trying to balance the demands of every sort of private interest group left right and centre, demanding this that and the other thing against the interest of the body public is a trying job, and I’d like to see you try it,”

“That’s why the Prime Minister has to be a particularly competent individual, and not be distracted by patronage appointments for his friends,”

“It can hardly be a winning rhetorical strategy to admit incompetence, Mr. Prime Minister,” said Wakefield.

“I would like to thank you, Mr. Duff, for implying that a woman would not make appointments on the basis of cronyism; as a woman, it is most edifying to hear that,”

Meach tried to come back to the fore: “As your Prime Minister––” Margaret plainly heard the capitals “––I promise to set up a bureau within the PMO for the purpose of accountability,”

“For the purpose of obfuscation,”

“I shall thank you not to interrupt me, M. Valence. As Prime Minister, I view it as essential that every dollar spent be spent justly and fairly. To this end, the Accountability Bureau shall be tasked with the duty, with the Auditor General, of performing surprise audits––”

“Do you plan to audit yourself?”

“Why are you going to set up a new office? Surely the Auditor-General’s Office would be able to handle this?”

Meach raised his voice above the volume of the snide comments by Duff and Wakefield. “––To ensure accountability in spending by government agencies, departments and Crown Corporations. Stop interrupting me!”

“You don’t look too prime ministerial right now; you look more like a whiny schoolchild,” Observed Mazli.

“I can see the Prime Minister’s getting testy,” said Margaret. “He’s sweating, look,” The high-quality digital video unmercifully picked up every detail of the leaders’ faces during the debate, and the Prime Minister was plainly uncomfortable. Hyram thought the Prime Minister was becoming puerile; Valence had a malicious grin on his face, Patrick Wakefield was drumming his fingers on the side of the lectern, while Duff and Abethey Mazli were calm and composed, even though Duff was sneering at Meach.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. The next question comes from Fred, in Victoria, about the environment, and it is directed first at Ms. Mazli,”

The video feed showed a middle-aged man. “I would like to be environmentally responsible, but I find that I am over-dependent on my car. What do you plan to do to make the use of a car a choice rather than a necessity?”

“Thank you for your question, Fred. It is a truth that for many Canadians, the car is inextricably woven into modern life, and has become far more than a mode of transportation; it has become a place, a room, and a part of life. It is also true that the car is expensive, automobile transport is unsafe, very dirty in terms of emissions, oil leaks and such, and is inefficient in terms of land use. The Green Party promises to pass legislation to make communities more pedestrian-friendly and more cyclist-friendly, by placing work closer to home, by increasing funding for public transportation, particularly through our Crown Corporation, Via Rail, and through public transportation spending across the country.”

“It would all come down to people’s choices, though; if some people choose to drive a car, so be it.”

“That’s not the point, Mr. Duff; this man plainly wants to cut down on the use of his car, but finds he cannot, due, most likely, to his neighbourhood being built the wrong way: being built to serve the interests of the car, rather than the person,”

“How would you implement your policies, though? As you know, Ms. Mazli, land use planning is under provincial and municipal jurisdiction.”

“I am aware of that, M. Valence,”

“Another part of the issue is that the playing field has been tilted so far in favour of cars,” said Patrick Wakefield. “Every year, provincial governments devote enormous sums of money to highway infrastructure––I don’t have the figures on hand––and all the spending on highways in effect constitute a subsidy; we are providing a service for which we do not require upfront payment,”

“Yes, Patrick and I have discussed that issue many times, and we agree on the matter,”

“I think that the idea of not funding the highways is, frankly, scary. How would you get around?”

“We’re not talking about all highways, by any means, but simply the four-lane highways; they’re either clogged, empty, and in all cases, rail transport, both for freight and people is far better, economically, socially, and environmentally.”

“The highways, as was mentioned, are provincial jurisdiction, but what would you on the loony left propose to hypothetically do to them? Turn them into parks?”

At Duff’s snide remark, Margaret turned to Hyram and said, “What do you think of that? You’re in the Ministry,”

“Well, to some extent, Mazli’s right; there are certain highways that should not have been built, and I have said that tolls on highways would be a good money-generator,”

“But then there is another question: How would we visit Mary and Clarissa?”

“There’s the train,” said Hyram.

“The train’s stuffy and crowded; remember the last trip we took?” Margaret and Hyram had taken a second honeymoon one summer in a cross-country rail trip, and Margaret thought the crowds on the coaches were unbearable, and had spent the trip complaining about not enough elbowroom.

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The First Part of Chapter 21: The Public Forum

On the last Monday before the election, the networks hosted the English-language debate, which Margaret and Hyram, among many others across the nation, were watching. The French-language debate, which was much ballyhooed in the run-up to the actual event, occurred the night before, but resulted, as was the consensus among pundits, in a tie. Margaret walked out of the kitchen, into the dining room, and paused briefly to look at the pictures arranged on the buffet; on the left were photos of Jacob and Alice with Sean as a baby and then slowly growing larger, in the middle were pictures of Mary, with and without her husband Andrew, and on the right were pictures of James and Clarissa. Margaret thought that James was handsome, in a way, and she regretted that she had thought of James differently when he was alive. She had spent a larger portion of her spare time studying closely the details of the photographs of James, which were now the only reminders in the elder Varettes’ house of their youngest daughter’s marriage. She noted almost everything about him in the photos: his black hair, which in the photos was unkempt in the same moppish style, his slightly tubby stomach, and his charming smile; through study she could see the side of James that had attracted her daughter, and these pictures remained her only connection to an alternate reality where James was alive, Clarissa happy, and Margaret on reasonably good terms with both of them.

Hyram had turned the television on, and had cleared the coffee table of technical drawings of highway bridges, upon which now stood a bowl of apple crisps. Their attention shifted to the television, which focussed on the faces of Nia Aitt and Ronald Boe, whom Margaret called Ron Boe; she thought the television personality was quite handsome. Hyram thought he was aloof and detached, as if he were observing the world from a different plane.

“Good evening, and welcome to the Election Debate in English on CTV. I am your co-host, Nia Aitt,”

“And I am Ronald Boe, your other co-host.”

“Tonight, CTV, CBC, and Global have collaborated to bring you the Election Debate. With us tonight are the leaders of the federal parties: Prime Minister Bruce Thomas Meach, the leader of the opposition, Cameron Duff, Patrick Wakefield, Georges Valence and Abethey Mazli. The debate will last two hours, with questions fielded by Canadian citizens. We will start with an introductory statement by each of the leaders, who drew lots to see who would go first. The question will be posed, and each leader will have a one-minute long opportunity to answer, followed up by a discussion of the issue among the leaders. With that, I will ask Ms. Mazli to make her introductory statement.”

“Thank you, Ronald and Nia. Citizens, I stand before you today as a representative of the Global Green Movement. The environment has gained prominence in the minds of the public, and for good reason; we have come to recognise that the environment is a key determinant of our livelihoods, and it is nearly universally recognised that without a robust and healthy environment, one cannot have a functional economy, and thus, the stakeholders include every person on the planet. That environmental degradation is an increasing problem is no idle statement without base; it is a fact, and we can see the most prominent example of the environmental impact that our species has had on the planet in global warming. We are changing the climate in an unsustainable fashion, and it is up to us to stop it. As a politician, I remain a fundamental optimist, and this problem, while serious, may be ameliorated and is eventually reversible. I am running in this election for more than personal ambition; I am running to make a statement, and to support the environmentalist cause. Thank you,”

“Next, we have Mr. Meach.”

“Thank you, Ron. Citizens, I stand before you today not as Prime Minister, but as a citizen advocate for the causes I believe in. These causes are: Canada, and its advancement and a drive for its increased prominence in world affairs, justice on an equal basis for all, and I, like all members of my party, strive to ensure that all Canadians ensure equal opportunity for everyone so that they can succeed when they want to, and I strive to foster the most competitive business environment in the world. It must also be said that you may judge me by my record, and in this, I recognise that I am not perfect, merely human, and would wish to own my errors and say unequivocally, that these mistakes in making appointments and various gaffes will never happen again. Like Mrs. Mazli, I also believe that respect for the environment is an important cause, which is essential for Canada to support, for if we do not respect our environment, we do not respect ourselves. That is why I have proposed to protect the Atlantic waters from fishing to preserve fish stocks for future generations. Thank you,”

“Next, Mr. Duff will make his statement.”

“Thank you, Nia. Fellow Canadians, I stand tonight as a real Canadian, a true struggler for better government, more efficient management, preserving and enhancing Canadian culture, and augmenting our image abroad as a world leader. I come to you as a representative and firm believer of the cause of better government, which has been decidedly lacking these past four years that Bruce Meach has been Prime Minister. As the alternative candidate, my role as prime minister shall be to renew: I shall renew the belief of the Canadian people in the efficacy of our government, I shall institute practices of best management to ensure clean government, and I will ensure that the government is run efficiently and without graft, patronage, or any of the other diseases that pollute the body politic of the nation and undermine our democratic values. Citizens, I stand before you to serve you, not my friends––although I consider all of you my friends––and not my family, just you. Thank you,”

Hyram turned away from the television and toward Margaret; either Patrick Wakefield or Georges Valence would be making his statement next, and he was not interested in what the left-wing leaders had to say; he was not impressed by Valence’s vacillation on a number of issues, and had not considered voting for the New Democrats since his days at Omega Faucets.

“So far, so good. No major gaffes on the Prime Minister’s part. Do you remember the one about him and the dodo?”

“That was funny,” replied Margaret. “I really liked the parody of that by Rea Li.” She was sitting on the armchair in the downstairs rec room, but her attention drifted from the television at that moment. She was thinking of the state of her pension plan; it had lost about a third of its value over two years ago, and it was thanks to an astute decision on Hyram’s part to sell her stocks and buy bonds that stopped them losing even more money. Now that the recession was over, the focus was more on layoffs. She knew relatively little about economics, but she was able to recognise a pattern through her life that after the economy was bad, employers tended to lay people off in an effort to “become more competitive”. Thinking about that oft-abused euphemism made her shudder, and it also brought up James’s death. He was laid off just an hour before the heart attack, and the more she dwelled on this, the more her opinion of Maurice deteriorated. It was a curious that although the chain of events leading up to his death was entirely accidental and by chance, she could not help feeling that Maurice deserved almost all of the blame, and her opinion of James had changed after his death. It was very interesting to recall that she did not take a particular liking to James when she met him, but now her attitude toward him had changed. Had he only lived! Now she thought of him highly; from what Clarissa said, he seemed very emotionally stable, hardly ever raising his voice in argument, unlike Hyram, who constantly bickers about me putting too much pepper on the roast beef. Perhaps I should admit I was wrong to Clarissa; on the other hand, perhaps I should hold my tongue; admitting one's mistakes would seem clumsy in a parent, no matter what the age.

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Chapter 20: Less Than Noble

It was four o’clock, well before dawn, and outside it was very cold, as a frigid mist hung over everything and froze to the trees, the lampposts, and coated all else with a sparkly rime layer. Given his job, Ryan was always awake at this time, and would eat a quick breakfast and purchase a newspaper from the convenience store just north of Somerset. He returned, and opened the copy of The National Post that he had just purchased, and was confronted with a large headline:

PRIME MINISTER USES PUBLIC MONEY FOR PERSONAL
DECORATION


Yesterday, an investigation revealed that the Prime Minister has been using government housing funds for furnishing the rooms of high-ranking politicians to furnish a lavish home on Lake Muskoka.

The Prime Minister has defended the use of public money for this purpose by saying that some of the poorer Members of Parliament need the money to become settled in Ottawa. Investigations revealed that the Prime Minister circumvented these rules by saying the purchases were for the official residences at 24 Sussex Drive and Meech Lake, and then doing an end run around the rules, according to a source within the National Capital Commission (NCC) who prefers not to be named, the NCC being in charge of the furnishing and upkeep of official residences. Confronted with these revelations, the Prime Minister said last night in Prince George, British Columbia, “Look, I haven’t the time for these baseless allegations, and the people of Canada know that I have been a very good, and very effective Prime Minister these past five years.”

Upon hearing the information late last night, Cameron Duff said from the campaign trail in Victoriaville, Quebec, “This is emblematic of the corruption that is increasingly endemic within the government. It has been observed countless times that corruption erodes the strength of democracies and diminishes public confidence, and this applies just as strongly now. This is yet another reason that a change in government is needed, and I am ready to be that change.”

Patrick Wakefield, speaking from Windsor, also chipped in:”You know, when the people of Canada, the backbone of the country, the hard-working, working-class people hear of this, they wonder if this is the government that truly represents them. I’m not at all surprised by the growing lack of faith within Meach’s ranks, and even his cabinet is feeling mutinous, and those are very loyal people surrounding him.”

Former natural resources Minister Xavier Nolen came to the defence of the Prime Minister from his Ottawa home last night: “Well, this is small potatoes, really, so what if he’s had his hand in the candy jar,”

Ryan trailed off reading, and snorted a signal of moral disgust. “Unbelievable,” he said.

“What?”

“It seems that Meach has been, er, availing himself of public money. Look at what he’s doing,” he handed her the newspaper, the headline clearly visible.

After reading it, Patricia said, “I will admit that he is a rather flawed vehicle for his policies, but I still agree with him.” She thought that the scandal seemed a scarlet letter; it would be sure to hurt Meach and his entire party; she believed that they deserved it completely.

“By the way, how’s Kate?”

“I got an email from her today, and she says she’s doing okay, though I don’t know why she doesn’t want to remarry. I mean, not all men are like Mike,”

The phone rang; it was Clarissa.

“Hello?”

“Hi Pat. I just called to say that I thought of a name for my baby-to-be: Alexandra Apollonia, and she will take Ryan’s name,”

“Alexandra Apollonia Miller. It sounds nice,” said Patricia. Alexandra seemed like a name one would give to a woman with a very strong personality, after the fashion of Alexander the Great, and Apollonia was obvious: named after Aphrodite's son, she would be intended to love people, including all of those around her, especially Clarissa, who especially needed it, now that she was a widow.

“Hey Ryan! Guess what? Clarissa’s baby has a name! She will be called Alexandra Apollonia Miller!”

“Wonderful. I hope she’s healthy and all. I think the people at work will not be pleased about this.” The last part of his statement referred to the fresh scandal, not Alexandra Apollonia Miller.

Ryan proved right; by the time he got to work at the CBC, news had already spread around the office, and nobody was pleased by the liberties the Prime Minister had taken. It had turned out that the story broke shortly before midnight, and there was no time for the cartoonists to draw any insulting pictures of the Prime Minister; Ryan knew that simply meant they would be laying it on all the more mercilessly the next day.

“It’s quite tough to do that sort of thing,” said Roland to Melissa, who were co-hosts on Ryan’s program.

“No, it’s simply too tempting. I mean, the guy has all that power, and there’s a lot of opportunity for self-aggrandisement.”

“I was talking about breaking the story. It was, let’s see, Geoff Toro who wrote that? He must have quite a sophisticated network of informers; getting information from the government, and especially the Prime Minister, is becoming like pulling teeth, especially now the election’s on.” Thus, Ryan thought, it was all the more remarkable that Geoff Toro, known as a journalistic sleuth, and a scourge to politicians everywhere who desired to keep secrets, had managed to write it and get it published before the election. It would require prodigious skill on one side, or otherwise gross incompetence and loose lips on the other side. In some time in the future, this would become an amusing and instructive tale; now, however, it was a blooming scandal, bound to cause Meach no end of trouble and scorn from the public; he was sure his opponents would bring it up in the campaign; there had already been attack ads, including one that was carried on his station condemning Meach for being too loose with the public’s money. “Isn’t it time for a change?” was the conclusion of said advertisement, and the answer to that rhetorical question was implied to be yes.

Ryan, through his job, heard all sorts of things to do with the election; what scandals were coming to light, who was saying what, who was keeping tight-lipped for what reason, which marches and rallies were planned, and sundry other things. He also heard of a rally by the Canadian Auto Workers in Toronto, about which he was unimpressed, as he viewed them not as agents of the average labourer, but as common and unsavoury rent-seekers.

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The Second Part of Chapter 19: New Year's

Eunice spent the first night of the new year at Clarissa’s house, where they were both sitting on the couch in the few minutes leading up to a show by Rea Li, a stand-up comedian they both liked.

“What do you think of the way James died?”

“I think it was terrible for you; he was only thirty-three, after all, and he seemed in good health to all of us.”

“I don’t know; I can’t help feeling somehow responsible for what happened to him. If only I had known; if only I had stopped using as much salt as I did in my cooking. You knew James. You knew how much he liked to salt his mashed potatoes, his French onion soup, and his eggs.”

“I can recall that he quite liked potato chips, but please, Clarie, don’t tie yourself in knots. What do mashed potatoes have to do with anything?”

Clarissa ignored the question about the mashed potatoes. “But we would talk about the superfluous things: politics, economics, the performance of the TSX index, subsidies, history, econometrics, but never the seemingly small things that were so important: what is healthy for dinner, whether we should be taking up jogging, that sort of thing. We were communicating for sure, but we were talking about the wrong things.”

“Clarie, you know that nobody can really be blamed for his death. It was the shock of him being unemployed and you being pregnant, with him not having any idea how to provide for a future child, and you know how difficult it is to get a job.

“Maybe we need to change the subject. How was Christmas?”

“It was pretty good; I had a visit with my mom, and you know she’s getting on.”

Eunice nodded in reply.

Rea Li’s show came on. “Well, good evening, folks,” said she. “I would like to welcome you all here tonight and I would wish to start by dwelling on my dreamboy, which is to say, of course, the Prime Minister. My love for him is no dodo, and Brucie Boy, I assure you I am not going the way of Europe: I’m still here, waiting to fall into your arms. Oh, and I have an idea for saving money, if you’re out there, Brucie: instead of hiring a prostitute, why not do me for free? Please, I’m begging you! I can’t remain single forever!

“Sorry, but anyways, I just wanted to speculate idly on the election; I predict that it will go to Patrick Wakefield! Why do I believe this? The reason is, of course, that one must believe in the underdog, and Wakefield simply embodies the zeitgeist of underdogginess.”

“Meach has actually becoming quite strange lately,” said Eunice. “Would you really want that for a Prime Minister? What does ‘out, out brief candle’ mean?”

“I think what he said today speaks to me on several levels. Remember his response to the query by Andrew Heron about how he was doing? ‘Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more’. That’s sort of how I feel about my life without James,”

“How are your brother and sister doing?” asked Eunice, turning away from the television and desiring to change the subject; she thought Clarissa was much stronger than Meach, considering that she had to contend with the loss of a husband, while Meach was simply ignoring his wife, who returned the favour.

“Quite well; Jacob and Alice’s son Sean is quite the adorable little two year old, but of course only I think he’s adorable; they refer to him as ‘our little monster’, or variants thereof. Mary and Andrew are planning on having a baby, which means that mom and dad will have three grandchildren to dote upon next Christmas.”

Eunice said, “Don’t you think there’s an element of risk?”

“To What?”

“To falling in love. I mean, it’s so unpredictable; I can remember my high school sweetheart Shane; he was romantic, he wooed me, but then I found he was a drug dealer, only after virtually everyone else in the school already knew.”

“Pity,”

“I know, and then there’s always the risk that things might turn out differently from what you hope,”

“I know what you mean,” said Clarissa. “All too well.”

“Oh yeah, and then there’s pregnancy; there’s simply so much to be left to chance: will it be a boy or a girl? Will the baby turn out healthy? Will the pregnancy go as it should? By the way, I haven’t told you that I’m pregnant too,”

“Congratulations! What does Mario think?”

“He’s as pleased as can be,”

“Well, my pregnancy is coming along as it should; I’ve been eating a lot of food lately,” she said.

“I saw the large pile of dishes. What did you have?”

“I roasted a chicken, and had a salad,” said Clarissa.

“I was just wondering: how do you keep your lettuce? I mean, Mario and I simply try to eat it as fast as we can so it doesn’t go brown and stays crunchy; there are few things worse than limp lettuce,”

“Too true; I wrap them in damp paper towels; it keeps for about a week.”

The two turned back to Rea Li’s show, just as she had finished a sight gag. She went on to make comments about the American President, and dwelt significantly on his affair.

“Oops, did I say that? I meant affairs: it’s simply unbelievable; his wife is so beautiful, so gorgeous, it almost makes me a lesbian, she’s that attractive. If I had a wife like that, I would be pegging her every night, regardless of my gender,”

Eunice smiled at the more off-colour aspects of Li’s humour. “She tells it like it is, doesn’t she?”

She was telling another story. “Anyways, there’s this internet meme that’s going around, saying that Brucie’s a drug dealer; I don’t know where that story came from, and I didn’t make it up; probably a clever viral campaign by Duff. But the thing with these is that they can be just about anything, and completely ridiculous. ‘Bob feeds his kittens crack cocaine’ and stuff like that. That’s when I got the idea to start my own viral campaign; tomorrow night, and every night after that, I will do the show nude. Tell your friends! I need ratings!”

Eunice laughed at that joke; the outlandishness of it was ridiculous. After half an hour of her, Eunice bade Clarissa good night, and went back to her house again, where her attention was focussed on the monthly accounting and inventory of her convenience store, a gargantuan task which promised to take the rest of the night and the rest of the following night; she hoped Jared, the teenager she had hired just before Christmas to do the night shift, was handling things well.

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The First Part of Chapter 19: New Year's

On New Year’s Eve, as promised, Eunice and Mario took Clarissa to see a comedy show. The show was in a theatre unimaginatively named The Performing Arts Centre, and it featured Peter Charles Ku, billed on the board outside as P.C. Ku. There had just been a snowstorm on the Wednesday, which meant the sidewalks were buried, invisible beneath tramped-down snow, and the war memorial on the square opposite the theatre was partially obscured by high snow banks; little of the snow had melted since November, and thus this was additional accumulation over the previous snowstorms, whose snow had compressed and hardened to ice on the sidewalks. The three were thus very careful on their way to the theatre not to slip, but Clarissa almost did so when they passed the Natural History Museum on McLeod Street. Eunice found the show funny enough, but she noted that Clarissa’s manner was subdued; where Eunice was gasping for breath, Clarissa was barely giggling. The nature of the jokes were conventionally thought of as funny: mother-in-laws, various sexual practices––Ku was known for his sex jokes, particularly an elaborate one involving a woman sleeping with her best friend’s boyfriend, and her best friend doing the same, while both of them thought they were with their own boyfriends. The walk home after the show was sombre, due to two circumstances: the weather was cold and cloudy, threatening but not delivering snow, and Clarissa’s mood, which was melancholic and contagious.

“What’s wrong, Clarie?” asked Eunice as they stepped over a snow bank and crossed MacLaren Street.

“Oh, I don’t know; do I seem unhappy?”

“Yes; you didn’t find Ku’s jokes funny?”

“Some of them were,”

“If you want, you can welcome the New Year at our place.”

“We have sprite, if you want,” said Mario. Eunice, being pregnant, would not be drinking, and he joined her pregnancy-enforced abstention from alcohol; thus, it would be a dry New Year’s.

“Thank you. It will be very nice to spend the night in the company of friends,” said Clarissa.

“How are you holding up with the pregnancy?” inquired Eunice.

“Well enough,” said Clarissa. “You’re supposed to always feel sort of sick, but I’m not
getting that so much. Perhaps it’s luck.”

“I’m starting to get woozy,” said Eunice. “I also get tired quicker,”

“She’s also starting to get an upset stomach,” said Mario.

The remainder of the walk home passed in silence, and instead of going home, Clarissa simply went straight to Mario and Eunice’s house for merrymaking and partying. Laura, Christine and Zachary had also been invited over, and they came, making New Year’s Eve a cheerful occasion.


At the start of the party, when there were just the three of them, Eunice turned to Clarissa and asked, “Mario and I have been discussing––since Christmas, really––about our ski trips and we were wondering if you would like to come along,”

“To Mont Tremblant?”

“Well, in March, when the weather’s more agreeable; today, I wouldn’t fancy skiing, considering it was minus fifteen today and God knows how cold in the Laurentians.”

“I don’t really know how to ski, though,”

“That’s fine; we can teach you,” said Mario.

“All right then; it shall be some time in March?”

“Yes, and we also usually go there around this time of year, but this particular year, we decided not to; we wanted to spend time with you, honey,”

“That’s very sweet of both of you,” said Clarissa. “Oh look, Christine and Zack are here,”

“So, let’s get the party started,” said Eunice emphatically; the five people spent a pleasant night together; there was an upside to having a dry party: nobody would have any hangovers afterward.

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Chapter 18: Fickle Fortune or Reaping?

Mario was having his favourite breakfast: crumpets and fried eggs cooked on a brand new skillet that Eunice’s mother Katelin had given them for Christmas. He was contemplating that day’s headline in the newspaper, which was dominated by election coverage. The story was about the latest polling numbers: “Duff leading in polls, PM’s words ‘Not till Duff’s people come to Windsor’ come back to haunt him”

The latest polling data, drawn from a sample of 2,645 Canadians from across the country, show Cameron Duff, the opposition leader, with a significant lead over the Prime Minister in seven provinces, including Ontario, British Columbia, Saskatchewan and Quebec. This is a boon to Duff and troubling to Meach. Experts have attributed this change in fortune to the patronage scandal in parliament, and Duff’s Christmas Eve promise to end the practice of appointing former party friends to plum positions in various government agencies.

Thea Ce, a polling analyst with the polling research agency Treiserd-Wiss, said, “In a follow-up question asking why people had changed their preferences to being warmer to the opposition leader, the patronage scandal was the leading reason for the change in opinion. I can cite one respondent, who said ‘If the taxpayers were to fund somebody’s retirement, it should be done so upfront, with no back-door sneaking money into people’s pockets’. This sentiment was widely echoed among all respondents, whether or not they had changed their views.”

Mario skipped to the end of the article, on page four:

The poll has a sampling error of plus or minus four percentage points, nineteen times out of twenty.

Looking for a diversion, he flipped ahead to the editorial pages, where the cartoon greeted him. On the left was Shakespeare’s Macbeth, saying, “Till Birnam Wood remove to Dunsinane, I cannot taint with fear”. On the right was Meach, saying, “Not until Duff’s people come to Windsor shall I lose this election”, Windsor being a supposed stronghold highly enamoured of Meach. On Christmas Eve, however, Duff himself had held a rally attended by 50,000 people there. “That does not bode well for Meach,” said Mario to himself.

“Good morning, beautiful,”

It was Eunice, who risen from bed; she started making coffee, poured herself a bowl of cereal, and joined Mario at the dining room table, where she took the business section of the paper, and started reading.

“Good morning, Eunice.”

“I’m glad to hear that Clarissa’s doing something to pick her spirits up, don’t you? I was thinking we should also take her to a comedy show.” Eunice was actually considering doing substantially more than that; it was distressing for her to see a close friend so sad, and she wanted to do her part. This involved staying in the city for most weekends, rather than skiing in the hills to the north or at Mont Tremblant; she would not be so busy, and had told Mario as much. He, also desiring to help Clarissa, agreed. They would still go to Tremblant, but just once or twice, and when it wasn’t so brutally cold; on this particular day, it was reported to be minus twenty at the resort, which neither Mario nor Eunice found comfortable. He suggested they take her on some weekend in March, and Eunice agreed, even though she had no idea of Clarissa’s skiing ability.

“That would be a very good after-Christmas present.”

“So,” said Eunice, spying the editorials, “what are the talking heads saying?”

“They’re saying that Meach had it coming with the first patronage appointment. Do you remember Xavier Nolen four years back? He was appointed to Environment Canada to be a consultant, and he did no work; it was essentially an elaborate retirement scheme. The thing is, if those former politicians had done some actual work, this scandal would not have happened; it would only have been noted in passing, and then only by the most dry and boring hack around,”

“Maybe there should be some sort of competitive process for hiring, like the ones our nephew had to endure when he was in the hiring process for The Bank of Montréal, you remember that? This is all rather boring anyways; gossip seems so shallow, and this scandal has been fuelled essentially by gossip; a low-level policy analyst at Industry Canada blew the whistle on the fact that no work was being done for the pay Cathi Ness was receiving. That was followed by a whisper campaign, and then people found out there was something similar being done by others; Xavier Nolen, Neville Dunac, Angus Ross at Human Resources and Social Development, and what was so remarkable was that these people thought they could get away with not doing work for so long. Xavier Nolen lasted three years. But as I said, this was boring; talking about science is much more interesting. What do you think of the new planet discovery?”

“That’s interesting.”

“You know what? I think I’ll call Clarissa.” With that, Eunice went to the phone, and dialled Clarissa’s number. She heard two rings, and then Clarissa picked up.

“Hello,”

“Hi Clarissa, it’s Eunice. I just wanted to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m doing okay; the parents are as healthy as ever, and so are Ryan and Patricia. I think they’re bearing the impact of James’s death better than I am. All of us loved him, but even though I had only known him for eight months, I seem to be bearing the brunt of the grief. Don’t you think that’s a little weird?”

“I don’t know, maybe they have experienced more deaths than just James’s, and they know how to deal with it somewhat; don’t forget, though, they still have each other and their daughter Kathy. Incidentally, Mario and I want to take you out to go see a movie or a comedy show, or something.”

“That would be very nice; my sister Mary and her husband Andrew just took me to a movie yesterday in Toronto; it was a slapstick comedy featuring Will Ferrell; you know, something not too deep, with a lot of the physical humour that he’s known for.”

“That sounds like it was fun. Well, I’ll talk to you again sometime soon.” At least Clarissa sounded happy on the phone, and she would take happy over many other things, such as tired, or bawling her eyes out and she had seen Clarissa in both of these conditions.

Eunice had also been meaning to tell Mario for a week that she was pregnant. Her period was late, and she had waited nearly two months, but it failed to come, so she had purchased a home pregnancy test on Christmas Eve, and that was how she found out. She was lucky that Mario wasn’t the kind of husband who noticed what was being thrown out, as she preferred instead to tell him at the perfect time; that was something Belinda had complained about, and it had been cited as a reason for her divorce from Kale.

His reaction to the news was much better than James’s had been: “Awesome! Thank goodness we had a teetotaller Christmas this year,”

“Now we have to plan for all sorts of things. I’m due in late June, by the way. For instance, where is the baby’s room going to be? And of course, we will have to do a lot of shopping,”

“We have a spare room upstairs, next to ours, but I would be more comfortable having the baby sleep in our room for a while, when you give birth,”

“Oh, there are all sorts of things to think about,” said Eunice, and she rattled off a number of things for fifteen minutes, ranging over almost everything from the bathtub, crib, food, how she was going to eat, to which daycare would be best, and to which school they should send their child, all the way up to contributing to an RESP; Mario found all this mind-boggling, considering she hadn’t written anything down.

“Would you like a pen and paper to keep track of all that?”

“Good idea,” and she went to fetch a post-it. “Oh yes, there’s the comedy show we
promised Clarissa,”

Mario wondered where the “we” came in, but agreed with his wife in the opinion that Clarissa needed cheering up; he purchased tickets the following day.

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The Eighth Part of Chapter 17: Three Families, Three Christmases

Melvin and Juliana, on the other hand, were luckier in the endeavours of romance: Melvin had married a woman named Adrienne, who would also be coming, and Juliana had married and had children, both of whom were at the breakfast table, discussing which of their teachers they liked.

Melvin followed up. “Do you think you’ll ever succeed? Maybe this Kevin just doesn’t like you; perhaps he has something else going on.”

This, along with geographical distance, was one of the reasons that she didn’t get together with her siblings and meet face-to-face that often. They were not supportive of her, as this was a continuation of an intense sibling rivalry from their respective high school days. It was a wonder that their rivalries were as intense as they were given that Juliana was six years older than Belinda and Melvin five years younger.

“Maybe you should be pursuing other avenues,” said Juliana, unkindly.

“I know perfectly well what I’m doing,” she snapped.

“You are getting on; forty is not what you would call youthful, you know,” put in Adrienne.

“I remember when I met Adrienne: it was at Casino Rama.”

The look of incredulity on Suzanne’s face was evident to everyone.

“Why am I only finding out now?” She asked.

“I had just won at blackjack, and Melvin here told me that gambling was a sin, and shouldn’t I be a bit ashamed. So of course, I said, ‘it’s no sin if you win.’ And I kept winning throughout my life.” This much was true: Melvin was a successful car dealer, the two had collaborated with Myron and Juliana to purchase an expensive cottage west of Parry Sound, and they had a houseboat in the Barrie Marina. They also seemed to always get the latest expensive gadgets: they had flat-screen televisions in their house and cottage back in the day when they were about as expensive as a car, they had Macbooks, a sophisticated surround-sound stereo in their home that they ostentatiously showed off when they had guests over, and a Ferrari in the driveway. Belinda could only look on jealously whenever she came over, which was rare, as her gadgets and toys were nowhere near as shiny; she only had cable, a poor aging television, and as she spent plenty of nights eating at fancy restaurants rather than at home, she did not have much savings despite the well-paying job she had had.

Suzanne thought that the axiom just stated by Melvin was a very dangerous one to live by, particularly when gambling. “I hope you dropped that belief soon enough,” she said tentatively, hoping against reason that this was true.

“Why would I? It has served me well over the years.”

Suzanne tried to steer conversation away from this topic and toward something else. “So, what do you think of the election?”

Juliana offered her opinion. “I think Duff is going to be Prime Minister. I was talking to a friend from university who lives in Sault Ste. Marie now, and she says the whole town’s in an uproar over that patronage scandal. Their MP is Angus Ross, so it’s puzzling how that all works out. She said that a radio host from there had put it well: ‘he’s gone Ottawa’. I also heard similar sentiments from a friend from North Bay who drops in from time to time; that riding went to Meach by the slimmest of margins last time, and now partisans are saying that Celina Coleville can be unseated this time around.”

“You mean the Minister of Public Works?”

“That’s the one. In Barrie, though, there’s not much of a contest: there are a lot of very big fans of Duff around there, and they are none too pleased with the patronage scandal; they expect hard work for their tax dollars, after all.”

“I think I shall be voting for the socialists, you know, because of their transportation policies; Via Rail needs more money, the train I rode here has seen better days, and I quite like the idea of building up rapid transit systems.”

Juliana said, “I quite like the idea of getting more trains. The drive here from Sudbury’s a nightmare, and the train is not much better, it doesn’t even come every day, and the station isn’t conveniently nearby. I don’t think it should be just Belinda who gets good train service from where she lives.”

“I don’t mind the car. It’s pretty convenient to drive around Barrie; here, on the other hand, driving is a nightmare.”

The conversation wended its way until dinner, and Belinda could never seem to find a good point to say that she had been laid off, but of course saying that she was laid off would be a form of denial; she was actually a bit ashamed of the way her job at Cognos had ended. Of course, she had actually been fired but she would rather spare her family that information; it would only invite ridicule. For this reason, it was not entirely the lack of an opportune time to mention her new unemployed status; it was more that she would rather keep her family in the dark. Still, they were going to find out one way or another. At least I didn’t drop dead, she thought.

“Did you say something?”

“No,”

“I thought I heard you mutter ‘drop dead’. That’s not a threat, is it? I mean, I’m not too passionate about viruses spreading among the squirrel population producing a mass die-off myself, but it’s nothing you would get enraged about,” said Melvin, who liked pushing his sister’s buttons. He knew perfectly well that Belinda was thinking about something to herself, but didn’t want to share; he would get it out of her eventually, needling and nagging a person relentlessly always does that, especially in Belinda’s case.

“You know, about transportation, I think it defines neighbourhoods; my neighbourhood is quite walkable, for instance, and people talk to each other on the way to their shopping, on their way to work, and everywhere generally. I don’t think there would be that sense of camaraderie had the neighbourhood been more oriented towards the car.”

“I think the neighbours might also have something to do with that; in Sudbury, there are some good people, and some people you just don’t get along with. There’s this guy Steve who I share a fence with, for instance; he’s always hanging his underwear out for all to see, his garden looks to be on the overgrown side in the summer, and he doesn’t like me in general. Just last week, the kids were on their snowmobiles in the gully, when his underwear blew off the line and into Myron’s face; Myron wasn’t pleased, let me tell you that.” Myron provided well for the family, Juliana was thankful for that, but when she married him, he was brawny and muscular, the epitome of masculinity as portrayed in the media. Now, however, he had a beer gut; she still loved him; what woman would not love a man who made so much money working for Inco?

Due to the strained relations with her family, Belinda left early on Boxing Day, not caring to spend the day in the crowded Eaton Centre, which she had done when she was married, long ago. She caught the first train home that day, which left at 8:30, and was home in time for a late lunch; at home, she was greeted by a mess on the driveway; there had been a snowstorm on Christmas eve and another one on Christmas, so Eunice told her, and since the snowplough came through, she had to step over a mound of snow that nearly reached her elbows; on top of that, there was a thaw that day, and all six metres of her driveway was covered in a slushy mess, which would freeze and become treacherous at night, and all the more difficult to remove the next day; hence, she spent twenty minutes clearing her driveway.

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The Seventh Part of Chapter 17: Three Families, Three Christmases

Belinda would be spending Christmas with her mother in Toronto, as per family tradition. She did not have much contact with her family apart from her mother, because they had always teased her, there was an intense sibling rivalry, and her brother and sister would pick on her for whatever reason. Of course, it was childish, but they continued it anyways, as they had from when they were much younger. Lately, they had been making malicious comments about her continued singlehood; it wasn’t as if it mattered to her siblings, they only cared insofar as they could needle Belinda about it. Belinda thought they would have grown out of that by now. Hence, she went to her mother’s more out of family obligation than any real desire for the day. In previous years, she would see her family much more often; she once spent a significant portion of her summers at the family’s cottage on Rice Lake, and she would spend Thanksgiving there also, but she had ended those traditions several years ago. She wondered why other people didn’t seem to have these problems; James’s sister Katherine liked him very much, as did Clarissa’s brother and sister, from what she could tell at the funeral.

Suzanne had pared down the celebrations, due to Home Depot having laid her off. Her children were chipping in on the presents, and a large portion of the food, which made up for the lack of money on Suzanne’s part. Belinda had arrived the previous day and would be staying over until Boxing Day before heading back home, as would Juliana, while Melvin would just be visiting for Christmas Day. It was Christmas morning, and the three women, mother and daughters, were sitting around the fireplace in the den, which had a view of the ravine behind the house. Juliana`s husband Myron was in the living room watching a football game he had taped.

Suzanne had many tchochkes around the house, which meant that novelty items had been out of the question for Belinda; she also had a full wardrobe with a nice assortment of clothes, so she didn’t buy her any clothing either; with those two options out, she purchased Suzanne some books. Gift giving was important, but the time spent with the family was much more so even if that were the case for her mother only, and Belinda didn’t particularly care what she received.

“101 duck recipes? Why, thank you, Bela.”

“That’s not the only book,”

“You got me Nicholas Nickleby and Hickory Dickory Dock! This book looks hefty; it will take a while to read it; perhaps being unemployed is not such a bad thing after all.”

Melvin and his wife Adrienne arrived later in the afternoon; they had spent the most on presents, first because Melvin liked Myron and his mother, and secondly because he was the most fortunate child, with the best luck and the most money, and he liked showing off.

Melvin had also given her books, some of which were quite expensive, while Juliana gave her clothing and some chocolate. After presents came conversation, as there was a lot of catching up to do with the family; what with the three kids living so far from home, there was not a whole lot of opportunity for them to meet face-to-face; most of their communication was done by phone and over the Internet.

“I’ve told mom about this beautiful couple, but you haven’t heard. It’s so sad: the husband died, and the woman, Clarissa, is now unhappy. I thought there was something fishy about it; James, the husband, was in his thirties, and one doesn’t just drop dead without people, you know, asking questions. So I asked around, and it turns out to be a heart attack. It still seems suspicious that after his death, Clarissa inherited everything, which would mean, if she were some greedy person of no morals, she would have had a big incentive right there. Oh, and all my friends aren’t talking to me anymore; they think I’m being a nosy parker. Do you think I’m nosy?”

“Not at all, Bela dear,” said Suzanne, though she had already heard this sob story, and was getting bored of the plot line; in her opinion, once was enough for a tragedy such as that.

Juliana said, “I heard you have some flame going on. How’s that coming along?” Juliana heard this not from Belinda directly, but rather from her neighbour in Sudbury back in June, who happened to know Kevin, the subject of Belinda’s affections, in a rare moment of warmer than icy relations; the neighbour didn’t know the relation between Juliana and Belinda, but Juliana was shrewd.

“I think he’s playing hard-to-get.”

Melvin asked, “What was his name again?”

“Oh, Kevin. He’s a dream, he’s so handsome, really well-built, well-groomed, and he seems to have a lot of money, telling from his clothes.”

Juliana said, “So, you’re still trying to find a man after the divorce, eh?” She liked to make pointed and unnecessary observations such as this.

“She takes after her mother, don’t you,” said Suzanne, affectionately touching her knee. Suzanne had been divorced twenty-five years previously, and had remained single ever since.

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The Sixth Part of Chapter 17: Three Families, Three Christmases

With dinner and cake eaten, Mary and Andrew were in conversation upstairs, where they were sure the parents would not overhear.

Mary asked her husband, “Clarissa still seems rather morose, don’t you think?”

“Yes; I miss her smile,”

“So do I,”

Mary thought back to when she used to call Clarissa “Miss Sunshine”, “Miss Dazzling Whites”, and “Miss Happy-go-lucky”. From what she heard, happy-go-lucky was an apt description of how she and James had met. She dearly wanted the Clarissa with the pleasant demeanour back, and the Clarissa with the melancholy demeanour taken away; it was almost as if they were two different people, as if some part of her personality had died with James.

“What do you think we can do to cheer her up?” She asked Alice, who was beside her.

Alice reacted. “Short of finding her another man?”

“Another man may cheer her up, but do you think it’s a really…tasteful thing to do?”

“It maybe somewhat lacking in taste, but at least it will put a smile on her face again, and that’s what really matters.”

“Do you think we should take her to a movie tomorrow night? It might help her get over the slump,”

“I can’t help remembering the greeting she gave me: ‘Oh, hello Mary.’ Normally she would have said: ‘Mary!’ and would then rush up to me and give me a big hug. Speak of the devil! Clarissa, we were just talking about you; we were discussing ways to cheer you up. We miss the smiling Clarie, and we want her back!”

“I want that part of me back too, but alas: James has left, and so has my spark.”

“Please Clarissa, tell us it’s just on vacation! We like happy Clarissa who talks about various boring things pertaining to the Bank of Canada’s monetary policy, not morose Clarissa who talks about the same thing! When you put a smile on your face, inter-bank overnight lending rates sound at least halfway interesting.”

“They call it the dismal science for a reason, you know,”

Alice came into the room with her son in tow; Sean’s mouth was covered in chocolate; Alice had failed to prevent him from finding out where Margaret and Hyram kept their chocolate fudge, and he had made short work of it.

“So, what would be best? Do you want a new man? Do you want to laugh some more? Hey, how about you and I go to the movies on Tuesday and we can watch something funny. Jake can take care of that little monster.” Alice gestured to her son Sean, who was old enough to run around and wreak havoc on the house, but seemingly too young to understand the phrase “honey, please put that down,” which was often said to him in the context of him holding knives, vases, small animals and porcelain figurines; tonight he was causing Margaret no end of vexation. The sight of him was enough to put a smile on Clarissa’s face, which was just as much a smile of longing for when she would be harassed by a terrible two-year old as of amusement at the sight of him blowing raspberries.

Jacob said, in observation of his younger sister, “Hey, Sean got you smiling! Do you want to take care of him for us? That would certainly make us happy, and you’ll get some preparation for yourself. You can’t get too much of that; you are due in May, after all.”

The jesting question made Clarissa smile. “It’s nearly nine,” she said.

“Oh, yes, it’s nearly time to go. I’ll tell Andrew.” Mary went to the living room, where Andrew had wandered off shortly into their conversation, and was now talking to Hyram about the environment; she had just caught the tail end of it: “––and that’s why there needs to be more investment in public transportation.”

“Andrew, honey; it’s getting late, and I would like to return to Kitchener.”

“Really?” He glanced at his watch, to find out that it had stopped. He then looked at the grandfather clock just visible in the hall to confirm what his wife was saying.

“Oh, yes,” Andrew was much less enthusiastic about leaving than Mary; he liked the company of his wife’s family. “Well, thank you so much, Margaret, again for your hospitality.”

“It’s nothing, Andrew,” she said. Why hadn’t I developed this sort of rapport with James? Why should I feel so much closer to this son-in-law than the other? It was strange how she had taken a shine nearly immediately to Andrew, but not James. She thought he might still have been alive, had she taken a greater interest in him. Maybe it’s something that simply started on the wrong track. “Goodnight, Andrew and Mary, and Merry Christmas!”

Margaret hugged and kissed Mary and Andrew as they left.

Jacob and Alice also made to leave, while Sean, obviously not wanting to leave, made as if to be oblivious to all that was going on around him, and picked up a book to look at the pictures; this was a new stall tactic; previously he would have just screamed if he wasn’t getting his way.

“What’s this?” he asked nobody in particular.

“Oh, that’s the CN Tower,” replied Margaret.

“Sean, we have to go, honey,”

“No!”

“Sean––”

“Happy here!”

Alice took Sean firmly by the hand, and smiling at Margaret, bade her good-bye.

Sean screamed, “But mommy, I don’t wanna go!” Sean still found the old tactics useful from time to time.

After the family had left, Margaret turned to Clarissa. “I had been meaning to ask you something: how are you coming along in terms of your baby?”

“Very well; it seems to be the thing that’s giving me hope. I really appreciate the crib you gave me; I hadn’t gotten around to buying one myself. I really like all the kids’ books you gave me as well.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to have purchased something that would clutter your house; the baby isn’t due until May, at any rate. By the way, have you determined the gender?”

“The doctor said it was to be a girl.”

“That’s so nice! I think Sean would like to have a playmate, that way he wouldn’t annoy
me so much!”

“Really? I would have thought that they might grow to plot things together, you know, horrible things, and such stuff that toddlers dream up.”

“Oh, please, let’s concentrate on the positive: you are going to be a mother, and that’s simply wonderful,”

Clarissa smiled softly. “Thank you, for thinking of me,”

“Caring for a daughter in need is a mother’s foremost duty, Clarie, now matter how old she is,”

The double meaning of this statement was not lost on Mary, who was standing nearby, first as an affirmation of the relationship between Margaret and her daughters, and secondly as a reminder and admonishment for Clarissa to take good care of herself for her baby’s sake. Speaking of which, she seemed to be taking the pregnancy well enough; she didn’t seem sick all the time, or perhaps it was her putting on a brave face under all the pressures of work, loss and motherhood.

Clarissa sniffed. “Well, goodnight mom.” With that, she went upstairs into the room she had lived in as a child, and went to sleep, as it was a very busy day, and all the food had its effect on people.

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