Just Let Me Die Here (A Serialized Novel) 10

It’s our first full day in Canmore, and it’s raining. We hadn’t planned to ski today. Thought we would give ourselves a day to see the sights. But there are no sights to see in the torrential downpour outside our window. From the bed, I can see that all the mountains are now trapped behind walls of cloud and will surely be stuck there for a while. I imagine all the snow being washed away by the rivers of rain and I just hope it’s colder up near the peaks. Snow. Just let it snow. The clouds move quickly, as if swirling around a single point in the distance and I hear a rumbling. It’s not long before a flash of lightening illuminates the entire view.

For lunch, Ruth is kind enough to provide us with some provisions in the form of turkey sandwiches.

“Don’t worry about going outside in this mess,” she had said when I went downstairs to inquire about a restaurant recommendation for lunch. “I have plenty.”

I eat mine seated in the small nook next to the window in our room, the Kindle in my lap showing my selection of Harlequin romance reading, while Millie rolls around on a blanket on the floor next to our bed. Tucker, again, is on his phone. Is he enjoying any of this?

“Let’s go out,” I say. The rain has eased slightly and I think I can see the ridge of one of the mountains just to the east.

“Huh?” Tucker grunts, eyes still locked on the glowing screen in his hands.

“Out. Outside. I’m tired of sitting in this room. We came all this way and we’re just doing what we could be doing at home.”

“But it’s raining out.” He glances at the window to confirm that what he has said is true and nods in satisfaction at what he sees.

“You know, I hear someone invented this thing that you can hold over your head when it rains so you don’t get wet.” He glances at me, my sarcasm falling flat.

“What about Millie? You don’t want her getting all wet and cold do you?” he says.

No good mother would take her child out in this weather.

“We packed for the snow, Tucker. We can keep her warm. Come on, just a short walk around the town. It will feel great. You could do with some good mountain air.”

By the time we get ready and prepare all of Millie’s gear for a trip around the block, the clouds have parted and there is a crisp, sunny, late afternoon sky above us. The last remnants of rain drip from the trees. No umbrella necessary.

Ruth had given me directions to the town and suggestions of where to walk. We head into Canmore and up Eight Street, Millie’s legs happily swinging away as she sits in the carrier strapped to Tucker’s chest.

We stop in several little nick-knack shops, filled to the ceiling with Canadian paraphernalia. The typical mugs, magnets, shot glasses, and key chains. Hats and t-shirts with the Canadian flag and other Canada and Canmore specific pictures and phrases. A six-foot stuffed moose wears a t-shirt with the words “Canadian take out” below the cartoon of a bear dragging a stick figure man out of a tent. Shelves lined with maple syrup, maple candy, and chocolate covered raisins in bags labeled “Moose Poop” line the back wall. Hanging on one of the clothing racks, I see the cutest plaid footie pajamas with a butt flap that reads “Don’t Moose With Me”. I make a mental note to come back and buy them for Millie later.

A good mother wouldn’t need to buy her child’s love.

After stopping in two of these shops, each with identical offerings, we continue down the street. There is a great little book store, a couple art galleries, an ice cream shop, and lots of restaurants. I do choke on my shock a bit when the menu posted in the window of a Mexican restaurant states that a bowl of their guacamole is $28. That better be some amazing guacamole. And lots of it.

“Ruth said there was a park just up here,” I say when we get to the end of the block. “Maybe we could let Millie out to crawl around a bit.”

“In the snow?”

“Why not? She has gloves on. And kids love playing in the snow.”

Tucker looks around. He hesitates for a moment before acquiescing. “Sure.”

We head north at the next intersection and arrive at Rotary Friendship Park. There isn’t much grass, and most of the space is dirt and trees, all covered with bits of snow, and puddles from the storm, but there is a nice, cleared boardwalk going right through the middle of the space. The perfect runway for a newly mobile child. I get Millie out of the carrier that Tucker is wearing and place her down on the wooden walkway.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Tucker asks. He watches as Millie takes a few crawling strides and then sits up next to a pile of snow.

“It’s fine,” I say. She seems perfectly happy. Tucker does not look convinced. In fact, he looks quite anxious, his eyes darting to all edges of the park. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing. It’s just cold.”

He’s right, you know.

“She’s completely covered,” I say. “Totally waterproof.” As if to prove my point, Millie jabs her glove-covered hands into the snow and throws it into the air. She giggles as the flakes fall back onto her face. While she plays, Tucker begins to pace a small stretch of the boardwalk, eyes continuing to scan the park. Can he not just enjoy this moment, appreciate his daughter’s happiness? “Is something wrong?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “It’s nothing. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Work?” He nods and then glances around the park again. What is he looking for?

After a while, I pull Millie up to standing and she gingerly toddles along between my legs, grasping tightly to my hands. When we reach a small puddle that has collected in a dip in the wood, Millie stomps her foot down and delights in the spray that covers her.

“I really think she’s about ready to walk,” I say. “I mean look at her legs. So strong. She just needs the balance.”

She needs a better mother.

“Yep.” Tucker is walking along next to us but his focus is elsewhere.

“If you don’t want to be here, we can just go,” I say. It is starting to get dark and we probably should start to head back.

“I’m just worried about the temperature, aren’t you?”

“I guess it is getting a bit chilly.”

We walk back the way we came, passing the restaurants that are now beginning to fill with patrons. Screw it. That expensive guacamole sounds really good right now. We’re on vacation and I would love some good Mexican food.

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