Once Upon a Road Trip (15 page)

“I was planning on defending myself, in the event I was attacked,” Angie answered, hoping to convey respectful candor.

“You hadn’t thought about, say, spraying a tour group while they were trapped in a confined space?” Ferret Man pressed, leaning forward.

She stared back at him, allowing her mystification to trump her annoyance. “I can honestly say that never crossed my mind until you suggested it.”

Don’t get snarky, it’ll just make things worse...

“Come on, you can’t be serious,” Zak interjected. “She’s just a first-time visitor from the U.S. She didn’t know any better. And this isn’t giving a great impression of how we treat tourists.” His defensive tone seemed out of character. Angie wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or angry, but she was grateful he was standing up for her.

“Ignorance is no excuse for breaking the law,” Ferret Man snapped. His gaze lanced back to Angie. “So you mean to tell me that when you crossed the border, you didn’t notice the signs posted about prohibited items?”

Angie’s shoulders stiffened from some combination of tension and struggling to keep herself from fidgeting. “I read the signs. No drugs, exotic plants, weapons
—
”

“So you admit you knew about the weapon’s policy?”

Angie worked her jaw and glanced toward John. The man had shifted position, his focus primarily set on Ferret Man. At the last question he’d given a sigh that suggested he wasn’t any more pleased with the smaller man than she was.

“I didn’t know that mace was considered a weapon here—I didn’t see that specifically listed,” she said, struggling to hold a patient tone with the belligerent interviewer. “My dad gave it to me because I was going to be traveling for a long time by myself, and I’m not familiar with most of the areas I’m visiting. It’s a pretty standard personal defense measure where I’m from, especially for women.”

“Yeah,” Zak piped up again. “Most of those American TV shows and movies, you always see ladies carrying mace in their purses. It’s dangerous down there.”

“Well, it may be a different world south of the border, but nobody needs things like that here in Canada. We don’t just go around attacking each other,” Ferret Man said, looking between them both with an expression Angie took as sneering. Part of her objected to this Canadian impression of America as one big cesspool of violence and depravity. Another part of her wondered if playing it up might work in her favor.

Just keep quiet. This can’t be worth turning into a patriotic martyr. 

John spoke up abruptly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Come on, now. Don’t act like we’ve got a crime-free society.” He nodded to Angie in obvious sympathy. “You know, I’ve got a daughter about her age. And the way her college campus is after dark...I’d have bought her mace to carry if it were legal. I guarantee you that.” His deep voice was even, but his broad nostrils flared with conviction.

Ferret Man tapped his pen against the table, looking angry over being undermined. “This isn’t about personal views. This is about the law, and the fact that it’s been violated.”

Someone rapped their knuckles against the window of the door before opening it partway. A young man, also dressed in a security uniform, leaned in and handed John a small stack of papers. They murmured back and forth for several seconds before John nodded and waved him off. The large man stood slowly, scanning over the papers before announcing, “Clean record.” John exchanged a significant look with Ferret Man before motioning to Zak and Angie. “You two, come with me.”

Angie shot to her feet, reasoning she’d rather be almost anywhere else as long as it was away from her pitiless interrogator. Though Zak was closer, she beat him to the door and trailed close behind John down the length of the hallway. John waited to speak until well after the door closed behind them.

“We’re going to let you go with a warning. You should know though, we could have had you arrested. I just don’t see how that would accomplish anything. You be sure to read over everything more carefully before you visit us again,” the hulking man advised, directing a consoling smile to Angie. He reached into his pocket and pulled out her wallet, change, and keys —  minus the mace — offering them out to her.

“What happens to the mace?” Zak asked, keeping a step behind them both.

“Taken to be destroyed. I’m sorry, I don’t have any control over that. Consider it a small price to pay to keep your freedom.” John glanced back over his shoulder, pausing as the hallway opened up into the ornate entry. “It’s too bad it was a chemical and not a knife or something multifunctional on that order. A knife we could have just held and given back once you’d exited the building.”

Angie accepted her belongings. She was having trouble sorting the logic of the man’s claims, but she wasn’t about to question him. “Can we still see the Peace Tower?” she asked, a sense of irony occurring to her after a delay.

John adjusted his belt and nodded. “Go right on up with this group. They won’t even notice you joined them.” He urged them onward with a wide motion. “You two have a good day now, and stay out of trouble.”

“Thank you...we’ll try.” Angie gave the man a grateful smile, and then made haste across the marble floor as she caught up to the other tourists.

“It would have been better if you’d brought a knife into the building? What a bunch of hosers.” Zak griped aside to her once they were clear of security, following the tour group as they filed into a small elevator. “I’m really sorry about all that.”

Angie gave him a weak smile. “It’s okay. I can replace it as soon as I get back into the States. That’s not a long time to go without it.” 

June 21
,

It’s been an interesting day. Zak and I ended up missing the changing of the guard, but we did get to visit the cats that live on Parliament Hill. I suppose that’s almost as good. But while attempting to get to the top of the Peace Tower, we were spirited away by security and detained for close to two hours. Evidently, it’s illegal to carry mace in Canada. So there you go, I learned something today. I’m so glad they only detained me for a little while. Getting arrested in a different country is definitely NOT on my to-do list for this trip.

Anyway, so we saw the Peace Tower and moved on to the Ottawa Mall. We had a nice lunch in the market, and went to see the free sections of the National Gallery of Canada. After that, we crossed over the bridge into Quebec to visit the Canadian Museum of Civilization. It was a muggy day and the long walk kind of knocked us out, but it was worth it. 

Zak’s been a total gentleman so far, I just wish he’d stop trying to pay for everything. His personality is really close to what I figured he’d be like: very easy-going. And we seem to have a similar level of tolerance before becoming bored with something. Hopefully I haven’t annoyed him too badly by turning him into my tour guide.

Zak’s sister is still in labor, but nothing hospital-wise yet. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. 

~Ang

Chapter 10

On Saturday morning, Angie awoke to the sound of the front door closing. She had the impression that Cathy didn’t work on the weekends, and so she guessed the woman wouldn’t be gone long. She changed out of her sweats before heading to her car and hunting through her box of food. Settling on a cinnamon streusel muffin mix, she went to see what she had to work with in the kitchen. It was 10AM, and she figured she had plenty of time before Zak returned to the land of the conscious.

The muffins had nearly finished baking and Angie was in the midst of plating a cheese omelet when Zak appeared in the doorway. Not only was he up and dressed for the day, but he’d already finished his complicated grooming routine. His slack expression didn’t reveal him to be particularly refreshed, but he was awake.

“And here I was afraid you’d been up forever, bored silly, ” he said, leaning his shoulder into the door frame.

“You’re up before noon…and without having anything thrown at you.” Angie gave a teasing smirk and handed him the omelet. “Does this constitute a miracle?”

“If you ask my mom, it does.” Zak grinned, staring down at the plate as he accepted it. “I think my nose woke me up. We don’t usually do breakfast. Nothing cooked, anyway. Mom never has time.” He picked up the fork with his other hand and poked at the folded envelope of egg. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…what is it?”

Angie blinked at him. “It’s an omelet. It -should- be edible,” she said, donning a mismatched pair of hot-mitts and cracking open the oven. “You don’t have to eat it.”

“No, I mean, it smells really good. I just can’t remember ever eating an omelet before.” Zak said, clutching the plate closer while backing up a couple of paces toward the table.

Angie chuckled to herself, setting the muffin tin on top of the range to cool. “Then you’re seriously breakfast-deprived.” She grabbed a carton of eggnog out of the fridge and took it to the table to set in front of him. She didn’t bother bringing a glass for it, relying on her previous observation of his habits.

Zak gave a nod of appreciation. “Eggnog goes with everything.” 

There was something different about him that made Angie take pause. It took her a moment to realize that, for the first time since she’d met him, he’d smiled broadly enough to show his teeth. Being that they were white and perfectly straight, she doubted that he’d been hiding them intentionally. No, it seemed more likely he either didn’t invest much effort into his expressions, or this was some sign that he was becoming more comfortable with her. Regardless of the reason, she was glad for the effect it had on his already appealing features.

Some part of her worried she might be a little -too- glad.

Footsteps on the porch snapped her attention to the front door just as it opened, revealing Cathy and her very pregnant eldest daughter.

“Something smells amazing,” Eve said, sniffing the air. Though she was every bit as tall and well-built as her mother, she had a softer, more melodious voice. She wore her hair down, falling perfectly straight to her hips in a sleek, mocha-brown curtain. Her complexion and features were dark, more similar to Zak’s than to Cathy’s. She moved down the hall toward Angie with a distinctive swayback and waddle. “You must be what all the fuss was about.” The young woman’s tone was pleasant, her expression curious.

Angie produced a smile and a small wave. “Hi. I’m Angie.”

Eve had nearly reached her when she paused, placed a supporting hand against her distended belly, and held up her index finger with the other hand. At the same time, she took in a series of puffing breaths.

Cathy, meanwhile, closed the door and came up behind Eve to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Steady now.”

Angie stood by uncertain as she watched the woman work through the contraction. “Are you okay? Do you need some water or something?” she asked, after the intensity of the moment seemed to ease.

Eve nodded. “I wouldn’t mind a cup of something. And one of…whatever it is I smell.”

“You just sit down a while.” Cathy urged her daughter onward until she’d taken a chair across from Zak, who had resumed inhaling the remainder of his omelet. He raised his fork in brief salute to his laboring sister.

Angie stepped aside into the kitchen to stay out of the way, and while she was there she went about stacking the muffins high onto a plate. She brought them out to set in the middle of the table, along with a glass of water for Eve.

As everyone procured one of the baked goods, Cathy glanced to Angie in vague confusion. “Did you whip these up from scratch?”

“No, no.” Angie held up her hands to shun the credit. “I brought a mix. But I did need to use a few of your ingredients. Sorry about that. I left some money on the counter to cover the eggs, milk, vanilla—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cathy chortled. “Who makes food for someone and then tries to pay them for the ingredients?”

Apparently, I do.
Angie forced a small smile, picking up a muffin for herself.

Cathy gave Eve a five-second shoulder rub before walking off down the hallway with a muffin in hand. “You two keep Eve company for me. I’ve got some laundry to attend to.” She turned the corner and her footsteps receded up the stairs.

“I don’t need pregnant lady-sitters!” Eve protested. Her voice dropped then as she addressed Angie and Zak. “I just didn’t want to be at home alone while Peter is working. No sense in going to the hospital, either. They’ve already sent me home twice saying I’m not progressing,” she said, helping herself to another muffin. “The things we go through. This is why I’ve been telling Zak-Zak, whenever he gets someone pregnant, I’m going to personally see to it that he waits on her hand and foot.”

Zak groaned and sank lower in his chair.

Eve laughed. “Oh, look. I’ve embarrassed him.” She winked at Angie and patted the chair beside her.

Angie laughed and took the offered seat, quickly warming up to the twenty-something woman. “I think that’s the prerogative of an older sister. My little brother likes to pretend he doesn’t know me when we’re in public. And I’m pretty sure my little sister wishes I wasn’t related to her at all.”

“Leigh and I fought all of the time until we both finally moved out.” Eve leaned to one side as she spoke and grabbed a picture frame from the bookshelf along the wall. “It gets better, I promise. Now we even like each other sometimes.” She set the frame on the table and slid it toward Angie. “That’s Leigh. Well, and her boyfriend, Evan. You almost got to meet her, but they took off straight after her graduation for two months of backpacking across Europe.”

Angie picked up the picture for a closer inspection. Posing on a slanted rock face wearing hiking boots and backpacks, the couple looked like an advertisement out of an outdoors magazine. Leigh was a petite version of her sister, though her facial features were finer and more exquisite. The strapping young man with her projected a poise and confidence that was backed by a strong jaw and flawless smile. “Sounds like the trip of a lifetime,” she said, handing back the picture.