Race

which means you won’t be able to watch over me.” I hoped the last part would get him.

He thought about it. “All right.”

Guelph is an hour’s drive from Toronto. Beadsworth did not say a word during the ride. Every so often he would flip an occasional glance in my direction. I don’t think he believed what he was seeing.

He parked on the side of the street like I instructed.

He was ready to get out when my hand stopped him. “Before we go in, there are a few things I would like to tell you.”

He waited.

I considered my words very carefully. “We were a very close family when I was young, very close…but…after my father left us…well…my mom became very protective.”

Beadsworth nodded.

“So.” I paused. “My mother is a little sensitive when it comes to law enforcement. So let’s not mention any of the…complications that are happening in our case.”

He listened. “Yes, of course. The incident at the House of Jam.”

“Um…yes. That incident. Definitely. In fact, let’s not talk about the police force in general.”

He thought about it and then nodded.

“Good,” I said.

We got out and went up to an old brick house.

I hid the package behind my back and pressed the doorbell. I was really excited to see my mother. I spoke to her occasionally but not as often as I used to.

The door opened.

My mother, whom I consider the most beautiful person in the world, was wearing a light green dress and an apron.

“Jonny,” she said with a big smile.

“Mom,” I said, and gave her a tight hug.

“You look weak,” she said. “Have you been eating right? You look skinny as a cat.”

Mothers, aren’t they great?

I pulled out the package. “Happy birthday.”

“Oh, I bet I’m going like it.”

She was not going to open the present in front of me. She never did. But she always praised it. She always praised me.

“Oh, who’s your friend?” she asked.

“This is Phillip Beadsworth.”

Beadsworth smiled. “How do you do?”

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “Come in. Come in.”

The house was the same as the day I left. The same furniture, same decorations, same carpet-a little cleaner, though.

“Did you have it washed?” I said, pointing to it.

“I got it shampooed.”

“You got rid of that stain I made? You know, it took me a long time to get that on the carpet.”

“Have a seat,” she said to Beadsworth. She then disappeared into the kitchen. I knew she would return with something to eat. Some people never change.

“I’ll go help her,” I said.

I found her behind the counter quickly arranging snacks on a plate. Aesthetics were very important to my mom. Biscuits must be arranged in a pleasing way; so should the croissants and the cake.

“Mom,” I said. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do all this. It’s your birthday.”

“You should have told me you were bringing a guest,” she said, arranging the plate. “Lucky I had these things to serve.”

My mom’s the perfect host.

“Now, take this outside,” she handed me the plate. “What does your friend like? Coffee or tea?”

Beadsworth was kind of British, so I said, “Tea.”

I took the plate and went to the living room.

I placed the plate on the coffee table.

I sat down near Beadsworth.

“Have something,” I said, pointing to the plate.

“No, thank you. I’m quite fine.”

“No. Really. Have something. My mother would be insulted.”

He immediately leaned over and picked a biscuit.

My mother returned holding a tray with three cups.

Once we had all sipped our tea, my mother leaned back and spoke, “What do you do, Mr. Beadsworth?”

I interrupted. “He works with me.”

“Oh, you’re also a broker?” she said, smiling.

Beadsworth looked at me. I smiled back with pleading eyes. “Ah…yes,” he answered.

“Are you married?” she asked.

“Yes. I have two children.”

“How wonderful. Children are a joy. We were only able to have one.”

I turned to Beadsworth. That’s me.

“But trouble equivalent to two,” she said.

That’s definitely me.

“How long have you worked with Jonny?” she asked.

Beadsworth turned to me. “Just recently,” I said.

“Forgive me for asking so many questions?” she said. “It’s not every day that Jonny brings a friend over. I think…this is probably the first time.”

“First time for everything, Mom,” I said.

Beadsworth took a slow sip.

“Have they promoted you?” she said to me.

“You could say that,” I answered. I didn’t want to tell her I had just moved from parking enforcement to drug and narcotics.

“A promotion. Really?” she said with excitement.

“Yes…but a lot of travel,” I said, feeling swamped with work.

“You see, Mr. Beadsworth, Jonny won’t help in my investments. You would think working at Nesbitt Burns he would help his mother.”

“Nesbitt Burns?” Beadsworth whispered.

I beamed like a proud son. Yes. Nesbitt Burns.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into him,” she continued. She turned to me, “You know everyone at work would love to have you look into their finances. They are always asking about you and all I can say is that Jonny is too busy.”

“But Mom,” I protested. “Mr. Chiklist is doing a good job.”

“Yes, but you could do a better job.”

“Mr. Chiklist’s been watching over our finances since I was a kid. He helped us pay off this house.”

“I have nothing against Mr. Chiklist. He’s wonderful. But when you have a son working in the industry-and working in a place like Toronto, you can’t help but think differently.”

I was about to say something when the phone rang.

“I’ll take it in the kitchen,” she said, “excuse me.”

“Nesbitt Burns?” Beadsworth looked at me. “What do you know about Nesbitt Burns?”