can’t we?
“We’ll leave as soon as I get home,” I said. “Wow, I can’t believe it! A grandson!”
“Where did you get that? It’s a girl, Mum. Her name is – wait a minute, I wrote that down too – the baby’s name is Madeleine Kilbourn Harris.”
“But you said … Never mind. So the linebacker is a girl.”
Angus laughed. “Greg said he’s signing her up for the Powder Puff League first thing Monday morning.”
When I got home, I called Mieka to tell her we were on our way. She sounded tired, but very happy. Then I dialled Alex’s number. There was no answer, and he didn’t have voice mail. I hung up the phone, reached under the bed, and pulled out the cradle board Alex had made for the new baby. Our relationship had hit a bad patch, but I still wanted him to be part of the next few hours.
I was throwing a nightie into my overnight bag when Hilda came in. Her hot-pink and apple-green outfit was as cheerful as a late summer orchard, and she was beaming. She came over and embraced me.
“Angus told me the good news,” she said. “And he told me you’re going to Saskatoon tonight. You’re welcome to stay at my house, if that would help.”
“Thanks,” I said. “We’ll be all right at Greg and Mieka’s. It’s only for one night. Hilda, should I call somebody to come in and walk Rose?”
She shook her head. “No need,” she said. “I’ll welcome the walk before bedtime. I have to finish going through Justine’s private financial records, and that’s bound to be unpleasant.”
“Don’t tell me Justine couldn’t balance her chequebook,” I said.
Hilda didn’t smile at my joke. “No, Justine was meticulous. It’s just troubling to see how much she gave and how little she seemed to get back.” She shook herself. “Not one more word about Justine. This is a day for celebration.”
I gave her a hug. “If you change your mind about Rose, there’s a list of Angus’s buddies by the phone. Any of them will be happy to walk her for the price of a Big Gulp.”
Hilda smiled. “A reasonable fee. Now, off with you. Give Mieka and Greg my love, and kiss Madeleine for me.” She drew me close. “Take care of yourself, Joanne. You’re very dear to me.”
“And you are to me,” I said. “I’ll call you when I get back from the hospital.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Hilda said.
I zipped up my overnight bag, picked up a jacket, and grabbed the tape of Lucy Blackwell I’d been listening to that afternoon. Chances were good that Angus would howl at my choice of travel music, but there was always the possibility that Lucy had been around long enough to be retro.
Before I dropped the tape in my bag, I glanced at the photograph on the cover. Rumour had it that Bob Dylan had taken that photo of Lucy on the swing. Twenty-nine years ago, stuck with the coffee parties and the constituency lists while my new husband made a name for himself in politics, I had, on more than one occasion, envied that lovely girl her life of adventure and freedom. I didn’t envy her now. Nothing in Lucy Blackwell’s life, past or present, could hold a candle to the prospect of holding Madeleine Kilbourn Harris in my arms.
CHAPTER
7
Royal University Hospital in Saskatoon is a teaching hospital on the west side of the University of Saskatchewan campus. From our spot in the parking lot, I could see the riverbank above the South Saskatchewan River. The leaves of the willows and scrub birch were beginning to change colour. In a week, they’d be saffron; in three weeks, they’d be gone, and the long grey winter would be upon us. But that September evening, as the sun warmed the tindall stone of the campus’s oldest buildings, we were in the timeless world of a university at the beginning of term, and the air was fresh with new beginnings.
Mieka’s room was on the fourth floor. As Angus, Taylor, and I crowded into the elevator, I found myself hoping her roommates were a tolerant crew. We came bearing gifts. I’d stopped at a stand at the edge of town to buy gladioli, Mieka’s favourites, and Taylor had picked out enough spectacular blooms for a Mafia funeral. Angus was carrying the cradle board Alex had made and an industrial-sized bag of Mieka’s favourite gumdrops, and I had an armful of gifts from Jill, Hilda, and me, and a weathered