The snowy-breasted pearl

The day was starting like a trip through a maze, but Mattie saw light at the end of the tunnel. Making her way along the freshly ploughed sidewalk, she felt enclosed by the high snow banks. Ahead, though, she could see a break, opening onto Campus Lane. When friends asked what she taught at the college, she said, "Basic literacy to dental technicians." Today, two weeks before Christmas, she had a departmental meeting, where her colleagues would moan about their heavy loads of marking and would cast sidelong glances at her and mutter that part-timers had it easy.

As her feet crunched through the snow, she thought of the meeting room at the end of a zig-zagging corridor through the main building. Afterwards, she would go through the final rabbit warren of the day, and find Eileen at the end, waiting.

Mattie reached the steps, being careful not to slip, then made her way through the hum of voices and the crush of bodies to the elevator. She thought of her stepchildren, Pearl and Paul, she in B.C., he at Western, dashing across campus in hoodies and pyjamas to get to their final exams. Better there than here.

On the third floor, as she wound her way through the building, several of her students called, "Hi, Mrs. Patterson," and she greeted them by name. She had the reputation of being good with young people, but she wasn't. Oh, she got along well enough with her students, but she found her stepchildren very hard work. Paul was uninspiring but no problem. Give him a six pack and a bag of snacks, turn on a game - any game, anywhere, and he was happy. Pearl was more complicated.

Now, entering her office, Mattie shed her coat and greeted her colleague who shared the same space.

"Good morning, Mattie. Enjoying winter?"

"Strictly speaking, it's still fall." They laughed wryly.

"All ready for Christmas?"

"Getting there." Actually she wasn't, except for Eileen's gift, in her bag, which she would deliver that afternoon. Plans were still up in the air with Dan's children. When Dan had last called her from Nunavit, where he'd gone on government business, he'd said that the kids would probably want to see their mother in Calgary and then to ski at Whistler. Each had promised to fly into Ottawa for a couple of days during the festive season to see their old dad, but neither had said just when.

Great! Roast turkey isn't exactly fast food. Mattie was angry about the uncertainty, so angry that she didn't dare express her rage, for fear irrevocable things would be said and they'd end by breaking up. If the kids couldn't be more specific, then let them eat fish fingers.

She asked her co-worker about his plans. He and his partner were going to Portugal.

Together they went down the hall to the meeting room. Mattie sat near the door. She intended to be the first to leave, then have a bite to eat and catch the bus downtown to meet Eileen at 2:00. To take a car downtown was insane, so close to Christmas. At the best of times there was limited street parking near Eileen's retirement residence, and the few visitor spaces were in a honeycomb beneath the building, accessible via a curving slippery ramp. It was better to bus, although it involved a fifteen minute walk in automobile exhausts, past tattoo parlours and panhandlers. But Eileen was worth it. She was no longer a project, but a friend.

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