Once Upon a Road Trip (13 page)

Cathy leaned forward over her salad. “Well, what interests have you narrowed down to?”

“I’d like to be a writer, but from what I can tell it doesn’t really pay the bills.” Angie said. “I’ve considered becoming a nurse, since I’m already familiar with the lingo. I’m just not sure I’m ready to give in and officially become my mother.” She chuckled, working on another bite as she considered further. “I’ve thought about becoming a Minister too, since it’s kind of in the same vein with helping people.”

Cathy grimaced. “A woman Minister?” A thought seemed to dawn on her. “I suppose they do have those. Still, if you want to be of some real use to people, you’d be better off going into nursing. Can’t be much good to the soul if the body’s falling apart.”

Angie nodded in appreciation of the woman’s opinion, however quickly it had been given. She wondered at the disapproval Cathy seemed to have tempered, but decided it wasn’t the best time to ask about it. “I also haven’t ruled out going into the military. I know a lot of people who thought long and hard about it after the 9/11 attack.”

Cathy’s scrutinizing gaze seemed to soften. She speared a few small shrimp with her fork and paused to speak before eating them. “That was a terrible thing to watch. I’m glad we didn’t have something like that happen here.” Her voice carried a detached sort of empathy. She was quiet for a few long moments before asking, “Which branch of the military are you considering?”

“The Air Force,” Angie said. “I have a friend there now, and from what he’s told me, I think I’d do pretty well there.” Thoughts of Don surfaced, but she willfully suppressed them.

“Ah.” Cathy intoned with a measure of approval, if not respect. “My oldest daughter’s husband served in the Canadian Air Force. It was a good experience for him. Instilled a solid sense of discipline, I’d say.”

Angie smiled to herself, considering it an victory that the woman had at least found something relatable about her. Their chatting became lighter as they neared the end of the meal, with Cathy shifting to focus on Zak with graduation-related inquiries. Just as Angie had guessed, Cathy picked up the check while brushing off any argument about it. 

“We’ve still got a good hour of light,” Cathy said as she got up and headed across the deck. “I’m going to run to the biffy, and then we can show you a little more of the city.”

Angie waited until the woman was out of earshot before turning to Zak. “Biffy?”

“Bathroom.” Zak smirked, pushing his chair back to stand.

Following suit, Angie tucked in her chair and walked down along the deck railing to the overlook point closest to the waterway. The canal mimicked the blue of the sky, save for where the surface was broken by the path of a small watercraft. Along both banks she noted a smattering of color, reds and yellows dominating. She bent forward, straining to identify the flora causing this picturesque affect. The colors reached as far as she could see in both directions. Zak came alongside her and leaned into the railing.

“What kind of flowers are those?” she asked.

“Tulips.” Zak glanced her way, dark brows lofting. “It’s kind of what Ottawa is known for. We’ve got millions of them all over the place. The Netherlands gives us like ten thousand more every year.” He made an open gesture down one length of the channel. “You should have seen it last month during the tulip festival. Toward the end of May, the shores are almost solid color.”

“Must be beautiful,” Angie said. She stared out at the shorelines for a long moment, envisioning the sight. “But why would another country give you a boatload of flowers every year?”

“We took in a Dutch Princess for a few years while World War 2 was going on, during the Nazi occupation,” he said. “Ever since then, the royal family keeps sending us more bulbs annually in thanks. This year was the fiftieth anniversary.” His expression grew slightly embarrassed as he went on. “I heard the Princess’s daughter came over for it and everything. But…I wasn’t really paying a lot of attention. Most years I’d go to the festival concerts with my friends, but this time everybody was more worried about exams and graduation.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot easier to take for granted when it’s basically going on in your back yard every year.” Angie felt a wistful smile settling and turned to look back out over the canal. “That’s a great story. Much less depressing than the main thing my hometown is known for.”

“And what’s that?”

Angie grimaced. “Site of the largest mass execution in U.S. history.”

Zak flinched. “Yikes.”

Angie nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on a bridge spanning the channel in the distance.

Zak paused for a time before uneasily picking up a different topic. “Hey, uh, don’t mind my mom. She’s got strong opinions. And she’s still kinda mad. I guess she used to go to some kind of church when we were little, but when my dad left us and they got divorced, the people there acted like it was her fault. So, she’s not real keen on religious people.”

Angie wasn’t sure if he was simply navigating away from the previous subject out of discomfort, or if he’d been planning the explanation all along. “Well that makes two of us.” She gave a sympathetic smile and shook her head. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’d try to fix, if I did end up going that route. Churches are supposed to take care of people.” She noted the look of confusion that came over him, but decided that if he wanted her to clarify, he’d ask.

Any further discussion was cut short by Cathy’s return. She called them away from the railing as she emerged from the restaurant. “Let’s get going, you two. We’re wasting daylight.”

And with that, the driving tour of the canals began.

Cathy took over driving, and Zak compacted himself into the back seat so Angie could take the passenger’s side. Tulips were a prevailing part of the scenery everywhere they went. Beds of them decorated street corners, lined bike trails, and accented the immaculate open parks. Bursts of yellows and reds were joined by vivid oranges, pinks, whites, and even shades of violet. She’d never had much interest in flowers, but she couldn’t deny the charm of their application throughout the capital city.

Crossing over a bridge that spanned the Ottawa River, Cathy mentioned to Angie that they were entering the province of Quebec. The city of Hull sprawled along the northern bank directly across from Ottawa, offering a striking view of Parliament Hill and the neo-gothic buildings that comprised it. While Ottawa was surrounded by farmland and largely flat, the fringes of Hull were thickly forested and took on steeper inclines. They stayed in Quebec just long enough for Cathy to park at a favorite overlook along the river.

Everyone exited the vehicle — the women to take pictures, and Zak to stretch his legs. Cathy produced a camera with a sizable lens and began walking along the bluff snapping photos. Angie frowned at her disposable camera, knowing it couldn’t adequately capture the splendor of the fiery red and orange sunset reflected off of the water.

Angie looked over her shoulder at Zak while pointing across the river toward the tallest spire on Parliament Hill. “So, we’re going there tomorrow?”

Zak looked up from his slumped position on the hood of the Dodge. “Yup. I think they do the changing of the guard at 10AM every morning. It’s supposed to be worth seeing.” He smirked to himself. “I’ll try to wake up in time for it. I’m not much good to anybody without my twelve hours of beauty sleep.”

Angie gaped at him for a moment until she decided he was being serious. “And I thought -I- was sleeping a lot with having Mono. How were you getting by with school if you’re hard pressed to get up before ten?”

“Not very well,” Zak admitted with a slow shrug. “That’d be one of the reasons why school wasn’t agreeing with me. I don’t know how I’m going to do it when I get a job over the summer. I grew three inches in the last year, and I’m probably not done. Takes a lot out of me.”

“Oh, he’s always slept like the dead,” Cathy inserted as she came trudging back toward the car. “The best thing I could do was send him to bed early and hope I wouldn’t have to pour water on him in the morning.” Her tone held equal parts complaint and fondness.

“Well in that case, I guess once we get back you should turn in.” Angie kept her voice light with amusement.

“Yeah, probably.” Zak chuckled, smoothing a hand over the carefully shaped crest of his hair before sliding off the car.

It occurred to Angie that, despite how much she was beginning to like Cathy, her presence was making it harder to figure Zak out. He seemed more prone to conversation when his mother wasn’t close by. Had Cathy not been there, she imagined she might have worked up the nerve to sit beside him on the hood of the Dodge to watch the sunset.

Why am I thinking about this?

Angie shook her head and looked to Cathy, awaiting her signal for their departure.

June 20
,

Ottawa has turned out to be an incredibly beautiful place. I should have looked up more about it before I got here. There’s so much well-kept greenery and a huge variety of architecture...most of which, I know nothing about. The canals and lakes are so much a part of the landscape and lifestyle, I think this place would be a photographer’s dream. I doubt I’d even mind it here in the winter. Zak told me the Rideau Canal turns into the longest skating rink in the world. I think I’d like to see that.

I was afraid Zak’s mom wouldn’t like me at all, but she warmed up to me the moment she saw I wasn’t older or more criminal-looking than advertised. I even get to sleep on the couch, now! Zak and I seem to be getting along pretty well. I guess he’s not completely asinine, after all. Tomorrow I’m supposed to get a foot tour of Parliament Hill from Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. I’m not sure what to expect, but it sounds nice and historic. If Zak wakes up in time, I should get to see the changing of the guard. It sounds about as British as it gets without actually going to England.

All in all, I’m just very thankful that things are turning out so well. It’s clearly been a stressful week for Zak’s family, what with Zak’s oldest sister being one week overdue with her first child. I’m going to do my best not to place any additional stress on them while I’m here.

Mileage Log: 1,548 mi

~Ang

Chapter 9

Angie awoke the next morning as Cathy was getting ready for work. Concerned she might interrupt her hostess’s routine, she pretended to be asleep until the woman left the house. Pretending turned into reality, and she startled herself awake some time later. The wall clock revealed it was nearly nine-thirty. She hadn’t heard any movement from upstairs, so she doubted Zak was up yet.

She ascended the groaning wooden staircase and surveyed the tight hallway. To her immediate right was an open doorway into a bedroom that was too floral and unoccupied to belong to Zak. Making a guess, she eased further to the right and peeked into a small space with a harshly sloped ceiling — the laundry room. By process of elimination, that left just one place he could be.

Angie approached the door at the opposite end of the hall, paying no mind to the random squeal of loose floorboards underfoot. Stealth wasn’t the goal, after all. Her primary hesitation was invading Zak’s personal space. Seeing the door standing open a few inches emboldened her, and she stepped up to peer inside.

The room was small and untidy, strewn with crumpled articles of clothing. A humble desk sat beside the door with an aging computer poised atop it. A hockey poster tacked to the far wall offered little by way of decor. Beneath the window at the back of the room she spotted a twin bed — which seemed absurdly small for Zak. And yet, there he was, laying face down with his feet hanging off the end of the bed and his arms folded over his head in defiance of the glaring daylight. The curled, inky form of Jinx lay across his lower back, amber eyes half open as the feline lazily took note of her.

“Zak?” Angie cleared her throat, nudging the door open a few more inches. She pinpointed the background sound of talk radio to the alarm on Zak’s nightstand. There was no telling how long it had been trying to wake him.
Cathy wasn’t exaggerating.

“Zak!” she hissed with more urgency, looking around for something to throw at his sleeping form. The cat’s eyes opened wide, but Zak didn’t stir. She considered walking in, but then decided against it.
Too invasive.
Instead, she went bounding back down the stairs, encouraging each step to protest her weight. She snatched a pillow off of the couch and went charging back up.

She’d hoped the ruckus she made might have sufficed, but when she stuck her head back into Zak’s room it was clear she’d had no such luck. She wound her arm back and hurled the pillow across the room, landing a direct hit to the side of her friend’s head.

“ZAK!”

Startled by the sudden motion, Jinx leaped straight up and landed between Zak’s shoulder blades, tail bushed. One, or perhaps all of these combined elements resulted in Zak’s head jerking up from his pillow.

“Wha—?”

Angie didn’t give him any time to recover his faculties. “Morning, Rip Van Winkle. It’s nine-thirty. How fast can you get ready?”

Zak turned his head, giving her a glazed look. “Guess we’ll find out,” he mumbled. “Give me a couple minutes.” He waved her off and turned over. The cat gave a feeble cry of complaint as he was dislodged from his perch.

Angie headed back downstairs. She wasn’t ready herself, and it was dawning on her that sweat pants wouldn’t be appropriate for the day’s activities. Though she doubted they would make it into downtown by ten, she was determined it wouldn’t be for a lack of trying on her part.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Half an hour later they were in her car, scouring side streets in search of a parking space. Zak had skipped showering, but insisted on taming his hair. Much to Angie’s exasperation, he’d continued to groom using the visor mirror while giving her driving instructions.

She finally spotted a car pulling out and claimed the open spot. She jumped out and fed the parking meter, bringing the count up to two hours by the time Zak had eased his way onto the sidewalk. He matched her jogging pace up the sloped sidewalk toward Parliament Hill without having to exert anything beyond long-legged strides. A bell began to toll somewhere nearby.