Blank Slate Kate

Chapter 25

"So how can we eat at home then? Unless you want me to cook."

"I wouldn't bring you here and expect you to feed me. No, we have meals delivered. Once a week, frozen. They're really good, and so far I haven't set the house on fire reheating them."

"Impressive."

"Thanks. I'm proud of myself."

We laugh, then he begins pointing out landmarks as we drive to our home. I was in Ottawa on a school trip back in grade eight so some of what he shows me is vaguely familiar, but certainly nothing feels like I saw it only a few months ago.

The house doesn't either, when we reach it after the twenty-minute drive. It's lovely, a big but not ridiculously huge two-story number with gray stone walls and landscaping just beginning to recover from the winter. But it doesn't feel like home.

We stop in the driveway and Ryan clears his throat. "So?"

I hate to do it, but I have to admit, "Nothing. It looks great, but I can't say I know it."

"Okay. I shouldn't keep asking you, it's just--"

I put my hand on his arm. "I get it. You want me to recognize something. Trust me, I do too. But when I do, I'll let you know."

He covers my hand with his and gives me a squeeze. "Got it. Well, shall we go in?"

After fetching my suitcase from the trunk he leads me up the walkway of large flat stones, unlocks the front door, and pulls it open for me. "In you go, my lady."

I take two steps into the house, then stop dead.

Ryan bumps into me. "Sorry, honey, I didn't-- oh."

I turn back. "I recognize something."

"Indeed. Mother, why are you here?"

She blinks innocently, happily. "I wanted to welcome Donna home, of course, and I was hoping to watch your wedding DVD with you. You did say you were going to watch it tonight, didn't you?"

"I said we would watch it when she felt ready, yes." He clears his throat. "But honestly, I think it should be just us. It'll be strange for her to see it."

Claire's lip quivers. "Oh, but I haven't seen it for ages. And you looked so handsome that day." She turns to me. "You don't mind, do you, dear?"

I can tell Ryan wants her gone, and I do too, but it'd probably be easier to watch with her then send her home than to get her to leave now. Besides, it'll be weird watching the video no matter what, so having Claire there can't be that much worse. "It's okay with me, Ryan. If it's okay with you."

He glances at his watch. "It's six o'clock now. At seven, Mother, I need you to leave me alone with my wife so we can have dinner and see what she can remember around here. Will you do that?"

"Oh, of course," she says, smiling. "Mustn't get in the way."

I feel sure Claire has made a career, a vocation, a hobby even, of getting in the way of Ryan and Donna's relationship. But Ryan's standing up for us and I like it.

He puts some cheese sticks and potato skins from the freezer into the toaster oven then says we'll take a tour of the house while they cook. Gently but firmly, he puts Claire in charge of monitoring the appetizers and putting my roses in a vase so she won't follow us. I'm glad. I want it to be just us.

He walks me out of the stainless-steel-and-dark-granite kitchen and through the downstairs area, the living room and separate dining room done in serene soft browns and beiges and pale hardwood, and the den which is clearly his hangout, all dark wood and plaid.