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for Victoria. Even that fleeting
realization made her really sad. And quick on its heels was another – was it
home or a place she’d been hiding out from her mom? Something she’d no longer
need. Shaking off those morbid thoughts, she eased out onto Memorial Drive and
headed east towards the Deerfoot Trail.
    An hour and a half later, thanks
to accidents and flooding and the odd feeling that she had to make sure she had
no tail, she finally pulled up to her mom’s little blue house in Canyon Meadows
in southwest Calgary. The rain which had eased to a slow drizzle had her
mesmerized as she sat staring at the depressing view. No thoughts, no sounds,
no smells, nothing intruded on the glazed focus she had out her windshield.
    A horn honked and she jerked
upright. How long had she been sitting there? A dog shot across the street and
disappeared around the corner of a house. She blinked a few times, becoming
aware of the fogged windshield and the chill that had invaded the car and was
working its way through her thin clothes. She reached for the handle. Leaning
heavily against the door, she pushed it open. Exhausted beyond anything she’d
ever experienced, she lifted her left hand overhead and grabbed the support.
One. Two. Three. Heave.
    Awkwardly and slowly, like a
person with severe arthritis, she managed to pull herself out. She wobbled a
few minutes before she found her land legs. After opening the trunk she pulled
out her suitcase and carry-on bag.
    Out of habit she walked up to the
front door and lifted her hand to knock. Her mom was always in the living room,
which the door opened onto. Just before her knuckles touched the wood she
realized what she was doing. Her fist froze in mid-air, she was so shocked she
couldn’t move for a few seconds. Jerking back, she jumped down the four steps
and headed around to the side. At the gate she dropped her luggage as she
reached up to play with the tricky slider lock. After a few tries she got it
open. Closing but not latching it, she continued to the back of the house. She
hurried to the table and wooden stool set in the middle of the lawn as the
chilly air wrapped around her. In the seat closest to the house a hidden clip
had been installed under the seat. Once she’d retrieved the key she made her
way back to the door. Her hand shook as she shoved the key in the lock. It took
several attempts to unlock it.
    She pushed her way in. The last
time she’d left hit her like a locomotive. The fight she’d had with her mom
flashed like a movie rerun. They were, as always, yelling at each other.
    “Don’t go, Bails. What aren’t
you telling me?”
    “Not a damn thing, Mom. Like
always, you want to control my every move. Well, not this time. And never again.
You have meddled in my life for the last time. Bye, Mom.”
    “Bails. No!”
    Bailey walked out of the
house, giving the door a heavy push. The hard slam infused her with a sense of
satisfaction.
    “Don’t come back, unless you
learn some damn manners first! Someone has to look after you and I’m the one
who took the job. No one else was there. I’m your mother, Bails!”
    She kept walking without
acknowledging her mom. For the first time she left without a word. Climbing
into her car, she drove away.
    Her visit had been the same as
always.
    Fighting.
    Yelling.
    Storming away.
    Tentatively making up.
    Moving on.
    Bailey shook her head. If she
could have the last month back she could change everything. One month. How was
she supposed to know that life would alter so drastically in that time? She
could have gotten her mom medical help. She could have done something.
    Two years and she could change
another big ugly fight they’d had. She’d wanted her mom to come visit but her mom
had refused, asking, “Who’d man the store? How would I get there?” Or five
years ago when they’d argued about Bailey moving out east. She hadn’t really
decided where, it had just been a thought. But her mom had gone berserk,
totally