“Rob, Anna,” I said, gesturing for my folks to come closer, “these are my parents. Shirley Holmes and Dominic Guillemot. Mom, Dad, this is Kim’s son Rob and his girlfriend, Anna.”
“Very nice to meet you, Ms. Holmes, Mr. Guillemot,” Anna said like a pro.
“Oh, please,” Dad said, smiling. “Shirley and Dom are a lot less of a mouthful.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rob said. “It’s probably going to be a bit of a gong show tonight, so if you need to hide out, the bar’s that way.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Well, I’ve got to go make the rounds. Good luck, you guys.” He grinned and put his arm around Anna, who shot me a sympathetic look.
“They seem like nice kids,” Mom said with a hint of surprise in her voice after Rob and Anna were out of earshot.
“They’re all nice, Mom,” I said. “Come on, let’s go get this over with.”
ON OUR WAY BACK FROM THE BAR, we ran into Chuck and Terry next. I got the impression they were trying to avoid the crowds, since we caught up with them in a corridor near the washrooms.
“Hey, look,” Chuck said, catching my eye first. “It’s Gumbo. Good to see you, buddy.”
“Hi,” I said, noticing Terry’s eyes flitting to my parents. “Chuck, Terry, this is my mom and dad.”
“I’m Shirley,” Mom said, sticking her hand out to Terry, “and that’s my husband, Dom. Congratulations to you both on your upcoming marriage.” She beamed at them, and she and Terry shook hands. Mom turned to Chuck, who also shook hands quickly.
“I feel a bit like we’re intruding on your celebration,” Dad said with an apologetic smile. “There’s an awful lot of people here.”
“It seems to have developed a life of its own. If I’d known what we were getting into,” Chuck said, “I might never had said yes when Terry proposed.”
“Oh, shut up, you,” Terry said, lightly punching Chuck on the arm. “We’d just have eloped, is all.”
“Weddings can get kind of out of control,” Mom said. “Ours was supposed to be just a small event, just family and close friends, and somehow we ended up with two hundred guests and a bill that we were still paying off five years later.”
Dad reached over and put his arm around Mom. “But it was such a beautiful day,” he said. “It was worth every penny.” Mom shot Chuck a look that said Maybe, maybe not, and the two women shared a silent laugh.
A small, harried-looking man wearing an impeccable brown tweed three-piece suit came scurrying into the hallway. “There you are,” he said to Chuck and Terry. “We need you with the wedding party for a few minutes before dinner.”
“Duty calls,” Chuck said with an exaggerated scowl. “It was nice meeting you. If we don’t get a chance to talk later tonight, I hope we meet again in more reasonable circumstances.”
“Thank you,” Mom said and smiled warmly.
“I know it can be crazy right now,” Dad said. “But you two try to enjoy it. You’ve got a whole lifetime to be quiet and content. For the next few weeks, you’ve got a licence to celebrate your love loudly. That’s the point of this whole thing.”
Terry smiled at him and patted his arm. “Thank you, Dom. That’s great advice.” She put an arm around Chuck and pulled her close, kissing her warmly. “Let’s go, baby.”
“You’re such a sap,” Mom said to Dad, her eyes twinkling.
“Someone’s got to keep the love alive,” he said, smacking her backside and making her giggle. My mother actually giggled.
“Dad,” I said. “Knock it off.”
“Okay,” he said, grinning. “Let’s go find some more people to meet.” He took Mom’s hand, and they walked into the dining room. I shook my head and followed.
DINNER GOT STARTED BEFORE I COULD FIND ANYONE ELSE I knew. As we all sat down, Kim stood with a slightly older couple who seemed to be as lost in the crowd as we were. “Good evening, everyone,” Kim said, and the din quieted down. “I am so happy to be here with Alan and Gwen Frost, Terry’s parents, as we celebrate the upcoming wedding of Charlotte and Terry.” Polite applause and patient smiles from the happy couple. “There’s a lot of people here, many of whom don’t know each other. Weddings are such a wonderful excuse to get together with family and friends, and we’re very lucky to have so many people here. Of course, there are some people missing as well, which is a shame.”
I saw a dark look cross Chuck’s face, and Rob and Jeannette shared a glance that might have been some cross between worry and embarrassment. I wondered what that was all about, but Kim went on without explanation. “But we have some additions as well to make up for it. I’d like to say a special hello to the Guillemots, who we’re all hoping to get to know better over the next few years.”
I felt my face get bright red as the whole table turned to look at us. Mom had her professional cop face on, her standard response to an uncomfortable situation, but Dad seemed to take the attention in stride. It must have been the two gin and tonics he’d had before dinner, because he confidently said, “We’re so happy to be here and may I be the first to say congratulations to you and the Frosts on this wonderful occasion of your daughters’ marriage.”
The table broke into applause and a toast; I think everyone was happy to get back to the normal wedding speeches. After the toasting was done, Mr. Frost cleared his throat, cutting Kim off from any further speechifying. She looked a little put out, but was gracious enough not to take the floor back. He made some innocuous toast to some family member or another, and I tuned it all out. It was over soon enough, and the waiters brought out the salads.
For the next hour, we chatted with our table mates — Jeannette and a distant cousin of Terry’s had somehow ended up in our area — and ate the institutional but reasonably tasty meal. Mom and Dad had polished off a bottle of wine between them, and Dad made a trip to the bar before dessert. It was a good thing I was driving, though I wasn’t sure how the rest of the night was going to go. Dad returned with a pair of large cocktails for the two of them, just as I saw Kim make her way to our part of the room.
“Mr. and Mrs. Guillemot,” she said, beaming at them.
“I’m Shirley Holmes,” Mom said, not unkindly, “and this is my husband, Dom. You must be Kim.”
Kim pulled a chair over and sat down at the table. “I’m so glad you agreed to come tonight,” she said, glancing between Mom and Dad. “I realize that this is awkward —” she glanced at me, then back at them “— for all of us. But after meeting Brian, I wanted to meet you, too. He’s such a fantastic young man that I wanted to meet the people responsible for that.”
Mom looked a little confused, but Dad just grinned. “Thank you,” he said. “We’re proud of our kid.”
“Rightfully so,” Kim said. “You know,” she said, scooting her chair a little closer, “I never doubted my decision. It wasn’t easy, though, and every time I got pregnant after that I felt my heart break a little, wondering what had happened to my little man.
“But I knew that letting him go was the right thing to do; it was always the right thing to do. And when I finally met Brian, it was obvious that the people who had become his parents had done a great job. He’s lucky to have gotten you two for parents.” She turned to me. “You’re very lucky.”
Dad sniffed back a tear. He always got emotional when he drank gin. “We’re the lucky ones, Kim,” he said. “Thank you for giving us the best gift we could ever have received.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome, and thank you for being there. We all did well from each other, I think.” She stood and laid a hand on Mom’s shoulder. “I hope we see more of each other,” she said, “but if it’s not to be, I just want you to know how happy I am to have met you all.” She smiled and turned to leave.
“Kim,” Mom called after her, and she stopped and turned. “You have a wonderful family,” Mom said, indicating the packed room. “Congratulations. We wish the best for your daughter’s marriage.”
“You’re very kind,” Kim said, smiling, and went back to
the rest of the crowd.
WE LEFT SHORTLY AFTER THAT EXCHANGE, and the ride home was bizarre. Dad fell asleep in the back seat and Mom kept saying, “She’s such a lovely woman, such lovely people ...” over and over again. I dropped them off and made sure they got inside before driving back home.
It had been an odd evening and I almost wondered why I’d gone. Obviously, Mom and Dad wouldn’t have gone without me, but otherwise I seemed to be entirely superfluous. Still, Kim seemed happy, and even Mom and Dad appeared to be more comfortable about the whole thing than they’d been before. Of course, that could have just been the gin.
18
SEARCHING FOR THE GREENER GRASS
IT’S NOT THAT I FORGOT ABOUT the importance of my nineteenth birthday. Every day I expected to get the call, the letter that gave me a name. But it was a passive obsession. And being with Seedy — then the whole process of not being with her anymore — was kind of like being high. It was hard to access everything about normal life when there she was, occupying all my attention. And then brooding over the fact that she was gone.
It took about a year before I lost the hangover from the Seedy high, but by then nothing had happened on the parents front and I’d gotten wrapped up in schoolwork. There was the odd party, a girl or two, but nothing worth mentioning. All that changed when I graduated from university. I was done with waiting for things to happen.
I wanted to be out of school, finding my parents and starting my life. I wanted to get into the “real world,” get a job, a car and my own apartment. The final year of school had been like pulling teeth. I could almost taste reality on the other side of exams, and it was sweet. Later, I wondered what the hell I’d been thinking.
I spent the entire summer after graduation looking for work. The campus job boards were a joke, but all the engineering jobs advertised in the paper wanted a P. Eng. or at least a few years’ experience. It was a rough time, but it took my mind off the fact that the process of finding my real parents had totally stalled.
I’d registered with the provincial Adoption Reunion Registry on my nineteenth birthday, but since I didn’t have the two hundred and fifty bucks to have them do a search for me, I was on my own. I might have been able to borrow the money from my parents, but I still didn’t want to have that conversation with them. I’m sure they knew I was looking, but it felt like something that ought to be a secret. I didn’t want them to think I was looking for something better. Even though that’s kind of what I was doing.
Failing to find work was a perfectly good way to take my mind off it. I spent an hour a day with the Careers section of the newspaper, and I’d sent my resumé off to a half dozen placement agencies. By the time August rolled around, I was seriously starting to consider those construction jobs I’d looked into during The Thing with Jacquie. Either that or taking a college course as a paralegal. There seemed to be a million job ads for legal assistants.
Mom and Dad pretty much left me alone with my misery. Mom had just been promoted from Uniform Division to Detective Division; it was a big deal for her. It wasn’t really more work, but she was trying to make a good impression, so she was pretty busy. Dad was Dad. He was working regular shifts at one of the high-rent seniors’ places, plus subbing at the hospital in emergencies. He was still around more than Mom was, but it seems like I hardly saw either of them that summer.
I was moping around one afternoon, surfing the internet for adoption reunion sites, when I got a call from some woman named Emily Hunter. She told me she was a recruiter at Gill-Sanders. After a minute of confusion, I guessed that it was one of the placement agencies I’d contacted. I put on my best job-applicant voice and waited to see what she wanted.
“We received your CV, Mr. Gwee-mott,” she mispronounced and I didn’t correct her.
“Yes?” I prompted.
“And I’m afraid that it is very difficult to place a recent engineering graduate in the current economic climate.”
“I see,” I said, trying to keep defeat out of my voice.
“I don’t think that we are going to be able to assist you with your employment search,” she continued.
“Oh,” I said, not knowing what to say. Why was she calling if they were just going to bin my resumé?
“However,” she went on, and I felt my heart rate spike, “I have a few tips that may help.”
“I’d be happy for any help,” I said.
“Try the government job listings,” she said. “The city, province and feds all employ a lot of people in the CRD and regularly have entry-level positions available. They all post their employment opportunities on the internet, and sometimes they’re posted for only twenty-four hours. I’d recommend that you look daily.”
“Thanks,” I said, already bringing up Google to search for the job pages.
“It’s no problem,” she said, a smile in her voice. “I know how hard it is to find a job after graduation.” She paused a moment, then said softly, “I spent a year after university working at a bookstore. I just got this job two months ago.”
“I appreciate the help, Ms. Hunter,” I said, “really.”
“Good luck, Brian,” she said and hung up.
I TOOK HER ADVICE AND THEN SOME. I was on the various job listings probably three or four times a day, even weekends. In four months, I applied to maybe twenty jobs and took exams and had interviews for a couple of them. It was getting to be Christmas time and I had convinced myself that it was never going to happen when I got the call for a job I’d applied for back in September. I’d completely forgotten about it.
I don’t know what it was that cinched it, but I started my first day of my first job as an engineer just after the Christmas holiday. January 10. It wasn’t much of a job, really. Mostly I was the assistant to a bunch of P. Engs who made me do all the boring work. Still, I was thrilled to be getting a paycheque for what I’d spent four years spending my parents’ money to learn to do.
I spent my first cheque on taking Mom and Dad for a really nice dinner. I spent my second cheque on the fee for an adoption search. It took ten more cheques before I found myself a cheap apartment in the city and moved out of my parents’ house. I was almost twenty-three years old.
MY APARTMENT WAS IN A PART OF TOWN they called Handgun Heights, which is hilarious in so many ways. First of all, we’re talking about Victoria here. It’s not exactly East L.A. The most dangerous thing in this town is the thousands of blind or dotty senior citizens who refuse to give up their drivers’ licences.
Second, it’s an example of how out of touch with reality people in this town are. My neighbourhood was cheap. Most of the places there were rentals, the houses cut into flats and the other buildings three- or four-storey walk-ups. All kinds of people lived there — students, folks who worked construction, shop owners, waitresses, artists, the odd drug dealer and the odd lawyer. Lots of people want or need inexpensive housing. But people in Victoria thought that cheap equalled dangerous, as if only criminals would live in anywhere less than a quarter-million-dollar place. It was bizarre.
The guy I worked with most closely at the City, a new P. Eng. named Jakob Ingel, was the worst. He was actually a really nice guy, but he’d lived in ritzy Oak Bay his whole life and was literally terrified of my perfectly nice neighbourhood. Once I’d been working with him a few months, and we’d gotten to know each other a little, he found out where I lived. He spent the next three weeks trying to convince me to move somewhere “decent.”
“But I like it in the ’hood,” I’d said, making phony gang symbols with my fingers.
“I know you make enough to afford somewhere better,” Ingel said. He knew I was an Engineer Level One and the salary ranges for all City positions were public information. Plus, he’d started as a One himself a few years back.
“Sure,” I conceded, “but why should I pay more than I have to? I like my apartment. I like my neighbours. There’s an all-night diner a block away and I can walk to the grocery store. Besides, I’m saving for
a car.” I put on a fake menacing expression. “Plus all my homies be keepin’ it real down the ’hood.” I did a terrible fake gangsta accent and I don’t think he got the joke.
“I don’t get you, Gumbo,” he said, then started talking about the plans for the new water mains in Langford.
I WASN’T ENTIRELY HONEST WITH JAKOB INGEL. I did like my neighbourhood just fine, but it wasn’t like I was hanging out with my neighbours every night having burgers and beers on the front lawn. I didn’t even know the names of anyone in my building. But I had other reasons for wanting to live somewhere cheap. Sure, I really was saving up for a car, but in the back of my mind I had this idea that when I found my parents I might need to travel to meet them.
I had a whole set of fantasies about them, new ones that seemed more realistic than the rock star and high-profile politician dreams of my youth. I guessed that they had been teenagers when I came along. So now, twenty-odd years later, they would be proper adults, with real jobs and lives. Maybe interesting ones, maybe not. But there was no reason to assume that they lived on the Island. In fact, the more time went by without any sign of making contact, the more likely it seemed that they’d moved away.
So I was squirrelling away cash like a miser, on the off chance that I might need plane tickets to somewhere expensive and exotic. Maybe my mom was an English teacher in Japan. Maybe my dad was a chef in Paris. Who knew? I had to be prepared.
I STARTED MY NEW JOB along with three other people, all of us recent graduates. I knew all of them slightly — the lone woman in the group, Susan Somethingunpronounceable, I’d taken out once on a doomed date in third year. Thankfully, she seemed to have forgotten all about it by orientation.
It seemed like from the very first day on the job, the more senior people were telling the new hires how to get a new and different job. In training, we spent an entire morning on how to access the internal job listings and how to move up from level one to level whatever. They even told us about how to apply for jobs with the province and the federal government. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought they were trying to get rid of us.
The Home for Wayward Parrots Page 10
