your plan.
I do remember my plan, but it’s different now. He’s a good guy.
Subway. Then bus. End of discussion.
He’s a great guy. I’ll offend him if I don’t.
Try to keep some objectivity about this guy. You had a nice evening. Call it a night.
“I’m okay, thanks.”
“You sure? You know we Canadians are always being too polite.”
“Eh?” she said.
“Eh?”
They both laughed.
“I almost forgot!” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a box wrapped in black wrapping paper. “For you.”
Abby sensed the guilt people feel when someone gets them a gift and they don’t have anything for them in return.
Just be honest with him.
“Jake, you shouldn’t have. I … I feel bad. I didn’t get you anything.”
“Sure you did. You came here tonight. What more could I ask for?”
“This feels awkward. I don’t know what to do. Do I open it now?”
“Only if you want.”
She unwrapped it. Opened the box. Oh my.
A gold necklace with a small purple stone reflected the light back at her. Thin enough to be elegant. Large enough to carry value.
“Jake.”
“Just a small thank you. Have a good night, okay?”
“You too.”
Speechless, she followed him out to the parking lot. Said goodbye. Smiled back at him over her shoulder as she walked towards the subway entrance. He waved back. Soon he was out of sight. Despite the cool air, Abby felt the warmth that comes with being in the presence of someone new who also turns out to be someone great. The ride home could have taken forever. She had all the time in the world as she thought back about her evening.
When she arrived, her mother asked her where she had been.
“Out with friends,” she said.
That was odd. She had a friend in Kedisha. But friends plural was slightly out of the normal. Abby didn’t want to involve her mom. Not yet. She wanted to trust her own judgment. Make up her own mind before reaching out to her mom for confirmation.
Retreating to her room, she placed the necklace on her bedside table and put her phone showing a picture of Jake beside it. So this is what it feels like? This is what it feels like to be a girl in love. She stared at her phone until the soft draw of sleep came over her.
Abby drifted off to her dreams.
chapter five
Joy watched the minister of justice stand in the House of Commons and head towards the lobby. She followed him, hoping to catch him before he became engrossed in another conversation. She walked through the door and entered the government lobby.
The House of Commons is split into two sides. The government sits on one side and the opposition on the other side. Behind each side is a lobby. The government goes to their side. Opposition to theirs. The lobbies are secluded places for members of Parliament only. The spaces are furnished with tables, sofas, chairs, computers and phones—everything members need while they are sitting in the House and don’t have time to get back to their office. Party whips (those assigned to keep the members in line, hence the title “whip”) assign staff as needed in the lobbies. Access to a given lobby is highly controlled by security.
Creating a perfect location for a captive audience.
Joy entered the long, narrow lobby. Other members of Parliament from the minority Conservative government talked on their phones, with each other, with staffers. Joy searched through the crowd. Caught a glimpse of the minister of justice.
“Hi, Joy. Good to see you again,” a fellow MP from Manitoba said, hoping to catch a word.
Joy greeted him back. “Good to see you, too. Are you coming by my office later today?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good,” Joy said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to meeting with you. Thank you for fitting me into your schedule.”
There was an art to being polite and staying focused on a mission without unnecessarily offending people.
Joy reached the minister, only to find him engrossed in a conversation with another member. She moved just to within eyesight of him, hoping to catch his attention. He saw her. Joy smiled and raised her eyebrows in a way that indicated she wanted to speak with him. The next reaction he gave would prove critical. So much in personality is involuntary. A person can only hide so much. If he acknowledged her right away, it would be a good sign. If he went back to his conversation, it meant he had other pressing issues that would not allow him to divert his attention.
He nodded.
Joy waited, using the time to rehearse in her mind. The point of this conversation was not to get lost in all the details. Stay focused, and figure out where the minister stood on the issue. Would he take on this kind of bill? If not, could he be encouraged to take it on?
He finished his conversation. Others wanted to talk with him. Joy moved in.
“Hello, Arthur.”
Some made the mistake of calling him Arty. But Joy knew better.
“Hi, Joy.”
“I wonder if you have a few minutes to talk.”
“Of course.” He pointed to a couch. They walked over and sat down.
“Thank you. I know how busy you are.”
“Not at all.”
“As you know, I’m involved in the fight against human trafficking.”
“Well done.”
“I wonder if at some point it might be worthwhile to look into a bill.”
“A bill? Why? You already have your Motion M-153.”
Some three years earlier Joy had drafted M-153 on human trafficking. It was part of a long and dedicated process in the fight against human trafficking. An event back home in Winnipeg had opened her eyes to the evil hiding in plain sight. An event that included her son Edward had propelled her into this fight.
When she came to Parliament her first official act to defend victims of trafficking started with calling on the Standing Committee on the Status of Women to initiate a study of human trafficking in Canada. Nearly a year later the committee passed the motion, and the study began. The result of that study was a report entitled Turning Outrage into Action to Address Trafficking
