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Within a year, the con artist was in jail and Wayne had sixty cents back on every dollar he’d lost. I used my contacts to help Wayne expand his limousine business to Ottawa and Toronto. We’d both ended up richer for the effort, in similar and different ways.
Now Wayne’s cars carried senators, celebrities, and rich foreigners to their five-star hotels, gala events, and Michelin rated restaurants. If I needed a favor or had an unusual request, Wayne would consider it a duty to do it himself.
Those limousine arrangements would separate Sadie and Ronnie for the trip from the airport at least. After that, Sadie should be too busy to see Ronnie. In the best situation possible, Ronnie would fly back to Vancouver having learned nothing from her efforts. But Sadie was too trusting. She accepted people at face value, thought the rest of the world was as forthright and honest as she was.
The next challenge was keeping them apart for the entire time they were in Montreal.
That was easy, I decided. I’d forbid Sadie to see Ronnie socially or in any other context when I wasn’t with her. Dealing with one saboteur in the form of Cynthia was enough. I couldn’t manage two antagonists trying to undermine my upcoming marriage.
Maddy? Michael and I needed to have a conversation on that subject.
DISTRACTION AND DEFIANCE
Sadie
To get some sleep, I wrapped myself in two blankets. One covered my legs and lap while I used the other to drape around my arms, shoulders, and head like an oversized scarf. At least that way if Ronnie took a picture while I was sleeping, it wouldn’t be easy to identify me. I eased my seat into the reclining position and wondered if I’d be able to doze for more than a few minutes.
The next thing I knew, two flight attendants were walking through the cabin, raising the window shades. Beside me, Ronnie was stretched out with her seat in the lie-flat position, which wasn’t truly flat but was way better than economy class options.
Before Ronnie came to life, I slipped into the bathroom, put on a minimal amount of makeup, and braided my hair. When I got back to my seat, Ronnie was still sleeping, open mouthed with a touch of dried drool on her bottom lip. Big raccoon rings of mascara circled her eyes. She sensed me staring at her and yawned loudly, prying her eyes open and squinting into the morning light.
“Would you want to know if your makeup was smeared?” I asked.
She pulled a compact from her purse and yelped before grabbing her bag and heading to the restroom. She was still there fifteen minutes later when the breakfast trays were brought around. The few hours’ sleep had improved my mood and fortified my defenses. When Ronnie came back, her makeup restored to its usual artful understatement, my sense of needing to guard against her had softened.
“Thanks for letting me know about my shocking makeup,” she said and motioned to the flight attendant for her meal.
“What are you looking forward to most in Montreal?” I forked some bacon into my mouth and chewed slowly.
“The fashion and the food! I can’t wait to eat smoked beef, real poutine, and tourtière,” she said. “I’m going looking for something new for the fall, especially boots. A couple of pairs.”
“Isn’t July a little too early to shop for boots?”
“Are you kidding, fall fashion walks down the runway in January in Paris. In fact, if you don’t start shopping now, you may miss out on the best stuff. If you’re going to be the wife of a wealthy man, you need to look the part. Why don’t you let me help you? I could be your bridge between cultures, clothing-wise. You’ll blow Simon’s mind when you go home.”
Just what I didn’t want to be reminded of: the fact that I wasn’t a natural part of Simon’s world. I drank the last of my coffee and frowned to show I was thinking about it. “It may be hard to make plans. I don’t know how long Mom and D2 will need me. The only shopping in store for me might be groceries and pharmaceuticals.”
Guilt gnawed at me for even thinking of something as frivolous as shopping when I had no idea how my family was doing.
When Ronnie asked more about me, I deflected with questions about her. I learned that she started her adult working life as a hairdresser with side training in beauty therapies and other complementary skills.
“And now you’re an influencer? Your YouTube channel has over a million followers?”
“Who do we tell our secrets to?” She laughed. “People who touch us. My wonderful clients told me all sorts of stories as I gave them scalp massages and rubbed their cuticles. Now they tell me things because they can do so anonymously, and people love gossip.”
In the next breath, she offered to do my hair and said she rarely did anyone’s hair any longer, but she’d make an exception for me.
“Maybe,” I said, as I did to most of her offers for help or plans to do things together in Montreal. I treated her like the guys in my past who I dated only once. There was always a moment when I knew I didn’t want to see them again but wanted to keep them friendly until I was safely out of their reach.
My diplomacy with Ronnie involved listening politely and nodding in just enough places to make her believe that I might call her for help, that we’d see each other again. Then I sat back and thought of what my first priority would be when I got to Montreal.
Ronnie could be a real help because I hadn’t lived in Montreal since high school. I only visited once a year, around D2’s September birthday. When I went back to see him, I barely left the old neighborhood. However, I decided the cost of a favor from Ronnie might be too high a price to pay, so no firm plans were made.
Shortly before landing, Ronnie tidied her clothes, shoehorned her feet back into her high heeled pumps, and swept her hair into a French roll. In mere minutes, she completed the illusion that she’d just stepped out of a styling salon.
We disembarked together, some of the first passengers off the plane. She linked her arm through mine and said, “We’re going to the same part of the city. Share an Uber?”
“I’m going to Lac Saint Louis Hospital first.” I bit my lip, regretting those words the moment I said them. Until that moment, Mom and D2’s location had been secret, or at least undisclosed by me. Maybe she missed that detail, I thought miserably.
