Jake, you know I’m underage, right?
He read her expression perfectly. “You look at least 19. If they’re going to ask anyone for ID, it will be me.”
She laughed and drank a gulp of her beer. It splashed against the back of her throat, and she felt the bitter and refreshing sensation as she swallowed. She’d gotten tipsy at Kedisha’s house when her parents weren’t home. Beer tasted good then. But not as good as this.
Abby felt herself as relaxed as she had ever been. She heard Avril Lavigne’s “Hot” playing through the speakers. “Now you’re in, and you can’t get out … You’re so good to me baby.” Somebody once said that when love happens you know it. She didn’t know what they meant by it then. She did now.
They talked. Connected. She relished the feeling of being herself, of sharing, of speaking her heart and mind. And she felt the same from him as she got lost in his eyes. She loved being there for him. For his points of view. For his thoughts.
She finished her beer. Oh, that was good. She wanted a second. But it would be rude to ask. Wouldn’t it?
“I really like you, Abby.”
“I really like you, too, Jake.” Was that her talking or the alcohol? It was one lousy drink. That wouldn’t be enough. But it might have been enough to loosen the fears a bit. Now might be the time to do Leviathan again.
“I think we have a future together,” he said, his voice quiet.
“That’d be great, Jake.”
They stayed locked in each other’s eyes. She wondered if there was a slight bit of hurt in his. And wondered if she would have what it would take to make right whatever might be bothering him.
“I have something for you,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small purple-wrapped box with a white ribbon. Abby’s heart raced. She knew what came in tiny square packages. Okay, granted, it wasn’t an engagement ring. Heaven knows it was too early for that. But it was a ring. She tried to fight back tears.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
Wait a minute. Why not? Why not cry? You have a guy who is taking an interest in you. Why not let this moment sink in?
“Jake.”
“It’s not what you think. I just hope you like it.”
She unwrapped the box. Lifted the lid. Oh my.
A gold band with a row of diamonds and another row of pink sapphires. Abby and Jake engraved inside. She slid it over the ring finger on her left hand.
“It fits?” he asked.
She looked up at him. Her eyes moistened. She touched the ring with her thumb. “Perfectly.”
He gave her a hug. She felt embarrassed for crying and wiped her tears with her sleeve. She stared at the ring. Absolute beauty.
They walked out under starry skies, crowds of people passing by them.
“Thanks for a great evening,” Jake said. He stopped. She did too. Their eyes connected. Abby felt a sudden rush of nervousness come over her. Then, just as quickly as it came, it left again. He leaned forward and kissed her. She put her hands on his waist, her new ring pressing against her finger.
“I got a crazy idea,” he said.
“Yeah. What? Like taking me on Leviathan again?”
“Exactly!”
“No!” she said, louder than she normally would have.
Jake smiled. He was about to ask her something, but he stopped short.
“Jake?” she asked, reaching out and touching his hand.
She felt him hold her slender fingers. A strong, comforting grip.
“This is crazy,” he said.
She nodded. “Uh huh. You mentioned.”
“Okay.”
“Well?”
He thought a moment. “You want to take a road trip with me to Montreal?”
“What?” Absolute craziness. Montreal? But then, as wild as the idea initially sounded, it changed to a rush of excitement. La belle province with Jake. Riding in his red Mustang from Toronto Leafs country to the domain of Habs fans in Moe-ray-ahl. Wasn’t that how her French teacher taught them to say it? She smiled.
“So, what do you say?” Jake asked. “It’ll be a great time.”
chapter seven
Neither of them had to say it out loud.
Joy and Joel often worked on the bill preparation late into the evenings. Weekends. Later evenings. Then even longer weekends. They did everything they could to provide research for the bill. The next step was to craft a summary of it. How to put this whole thing together in two sentences so that anyone would be able to read it and understand? They were working together with the Legislative Services Branch of the Office of the Law Clerk and Parliamentary Counsel to draft the bill. There was a ton of hard work going into all of this. But it was all going to be for naught if Joy’s name didn’t get called in the private members’ lottery.
Joy knew it. Joel knew it.
No need for discussion.
Though Joy was more convinced than anyone about the result.
Late one evening in her office, Joy finished a call with her husband. Joel did the same with his wife from his office. Both had supporting spouses. No easy feat in Ottawa, where the divorce rate among MPs is twice the national average.
Joy sat at her desk. Joel entered.
“We have to put forward a bill that targets child traffickers with a minimum sentence,” Joy said. “Otherwise, victims won’t have the security to come forward and testify against their traffickers.”
“But you think minimum sentences might scare off some MPs from voting for it?”
Joy took off her glasses. Rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know what it will take to get them to vote. And yes, I know there is resistance to minimum sentences.” She exhaled and squinted, as if doing so could help her see the light at the end of a dark tunnel. “If we put minimum sentences in, we’ll get pushback and we might risk losing the bill. If we don’t put it in, the bill will lack teeth, and the girls won’t come forward.”
“Then we have to find a way to get those MPs to vote for it in spite of their differences.”
Joy angled her chair to the side. Looked out at the eternal flame.
“What does every politician want?”
“To do a good job and serve the country,” Joel said. “And to stay out of trouble,” he added with a laugh. It was needed. The tension in the room lifted momentarily.
“There
