lotion?”
“No one. Especially in November. And, no offence, but what time is it?”
“About six thirty. I'm getting ready to go on shift.”
“Ah. You mean it's six thirty Atlantic Standard Time. Hmmm. Well, that would make it five thirty here in Ottawa Snoozing Time.”
“Not so fast, my friend, aren't you the queen of the three a.m. calls?”
“Oh, come on, Ray. Why would you say that?”
“Because I've gotten quite a few myself, and I'm not the only one. People talk, you know.”
“True, but most people don't talk to me at five thirty in the morning. However, I take your point. Goodbye now, Ray.”
“I can't believe you didn't know it was me. How many guys call you up and whisper sweet nothings about warm beaches and feeling amorous?”
“Don't forget the margaritas and the sea lapping at my toes. No guys call me to whisper sweet nothings. Nor are any guys whispering anything else, now that you mention it. Especially at five thirty a.m.”
“So what do you think?”
“I think this is probably just a dream.”
“It's real. And?”
“And what?” I tried to keep my voice pleasant, because Ray Deveau is the best damn thing to have happened to me in many, many years. He is worth working hard to be nice to.
“And you are stretched out on a warm beach, blah blah blah.”
“Actually, I am stretched out under a tumbled mass of duvet, which I seem to be sharing with a large, stinky dog. There's a calico cat licking my toes, and that actually seems a bit creepy. No one is filling my margarita, although now that I'm wide awake at five thirty in the morning, I wish someone would bring me a cup of coffee before I head out into the cold, damp, miserable November morning to walk the smelly dog that has been awakened by the sound of the phone ringing.”
“So you're saying the beach does sound like an improvement.”
“Yes. Too bad it's not happening.”
“It should happen. We could take a holiday together. Wouldn't that be good after everything we've been through in the past couple of months? You never did have a proper recovery time following those concussions.”
“Me? What about you? You almost died.”
“That too. So, a holiday, well-deserved by both.”
“Are you the same Ray Deveau with the two teenage daughters you can't leave in the house alone?”
“Yup.”
“Not to be picky, but are they part of the beach dream too?”
“Nope. That would be insufficiently romantic. Anyway, the girls will be in school.”
“How can you just…?”
“All taken care of. My sister, Sharon, the one who lives in Dartmouth, has a few weeks after she moves out of her old house and before she moves into her new one. She's going to spend it here. As the resident guard.”
“Don't you want to spend time with her?” I said.
“Let's put it this way. Are there circumstances where you would opt to spend two weeks in a confined space with one of your sisters and a couple of teenage hormone factories?”
“Point taken.”
“I've got some holiday time coming, and it's use it or lose it. So I've been looking through travel brochures. I keep seeing your face in all the photos. How about Mexico?”
“I don't know, Ray.”
“Okay, Dominican Republic?”
“I'm not sure I can do it. I got so far behind in my work when I was recovering. I couldn't concentrate on anything. You know I haven't even reopened Justice for Victims since we got evicted. There are so many people who desperately need a service like ours when they're dealing with horrible situations and jackasses in the justice system. If I'm not there, who's going to ensure they're not revictimized by vindictive criminals and their bulldog lawyers?” I didn't mention cops, since Ray's a Sergeant in the Cape Breton Regional Police, and he might not want to be on a list with jackasses.
“Thanks for the lecture, but I already know what you do,” he said.
“And you also know people are counting on me.”
“Yeah. I think I might be one of them.”
“You know what I mean. How can I go away after I did nothing useful all fall?”
“When was the last time you had a break that didn't end in an emergency room? Leave everything with Alvin.”
“Alvin? You must be joking. How's he supposed to cope?”
“He'd be thrilled if you were out of the office. I mean, that's just a guess.”
“We don't have an office. We're going to set up in my new house, remember? Which is also not set up. There is junk piled up to the ceiling.”
“Camilla?”
“Yes?”
“I am up to speed on what's been happening to you. We do talk every day, although I'll save you the trouble of saying ‘not usually at five thirty in the morning’.”
“Then you know I'm not unpacked. And you should know I don't feel right about inheriting this house, or about anything else that happened. It's just a really bad time for me.”
“Do something pleasant for yourself for once. Think about swimming in the crystal blue water.”
“Small problem. Other people packed my stuff when I was in the hospital. I don't know where anything is, like, for instance, my bathing suit.”
“I'd be willing to spring for a bathing suit. At least, a small one.”
“And the idea of leaving Alvin in charge, that's just plain scary.” That would account for the way my heart was racing.
“Tell you what, I've got to hit the road. Think about where you'd like to go and call me,” Ray said.
“Okay.”
“New plan, I'll call you.”
“Wait! Today's Remembrance Day. I'll be at the ceremonies.”
“No problem. I'll give you a ring tonight.”
“That'll be good,” I said.
I listened to the dial tone for a long time and reminded myself that Ray was the best. Why was I such a jerk sometimes?
* * *
