The Garneau Block Read Free Page A

containedseveral rules of etiquette designed to cultivate powerful friends and allies. From time to time, Tammy asked about David’s position as president of the Strathcona PC Riding Association. Did he know many of the provincial cabinet ministers, or even the premier? Could he get her invited to some events that might be advantageous to her, both as a small businesswoman and as a gorgeous single woman in her mid-forties looking for–how do you say–a not-too-ugly, not-too-stupid, not-too-boring man with a lot of pre-boom oil stock?
    Tammy finished her call, looked at them, and screamed. “Oh my goodness, the Weisses. And their little sweetie!” Tammy pulled up her black denim skirt and bent down daintily. “Come here, girl. Come to mommy.”
    Garith looked up at David, with a blend of confusion and horror. The dog didn’t move until David said, “Go on, boy,” and gave him a gentle nudge with his sneaker.
    For the next few minutes, the hairless dog squirmed while Tammy mauled him and baby-talked him and called him a girl. There was a conquered look in his eyes, the look of a gazelle just as a cheetah takes it down. Madison knew what her mother would say before she said it. “Do you have children, Tammy?”
    Tammy froze just long enough for Garith to escape her clutches. She inhaled and shook her head. “No. No, I don’t, Abigail.”
    The social error hung in the air like a cloud of unclaimed flatulence. Madison lifted her arms. “Wasn’t it cold this morning? Brrr.”
    No one responded. Garith jumped at David’s shins.
    â€œUm.” Madison cleared her throat. “I’m going to the soaps at the Varscona tonight, in case anyone wants to join me. It’s opening night.”
    Seemingly revived by the opportunity to talk about herself again, Tammy rolled her eyes. “That was my sister-in-law on the phone. She has these tickets to some sort of fundraiser at the Winspear tonight, with classical music? I had to pretend to be excited. The mayor’ll be there, I guess.”
    Madison snapped her fingers. “Dad, Tammy was wondering if she could join you one night for an association meeting.”
    â€œYes! Yes! Could I?”
    David picked up Garith, in case Tammy’s enthusiasm inspired another outburst. “We’re always looking for fresh voices and ideas.”
    â€œI’m the freshest, David.” Tammy whipped a business card out of a small dispenser in her purse.
    For the next while, David talked about the merits of joining the PC party. Why fight it, really? No political organization is perfect, of course, but by supporting the Liberals or the New Democrats, what are you doing? Further dooming the City of Edmonton, that’s what. Further empowering Calgary and the rural caucus.
    â€œNonsense, David,” said Abby. “That’s the sort of talk that leads to tyranny, and we’ve had plenty enough of it in this province.”
    â€œTyranny, she says! Tyranny!” David took a few steps in Tammy’s direction, so they formed a political triangle. “No wonder the left is so flabby.”
    Madison felt the way she always felt when her parents argued about politics. Light-headed, dreamy. She approached the Europe brochures relegated to the secondary shelf and felt the acid-charcoal taste of panic swish through her mouth: she had not been to Paris. Now that she was pregnant, Madison knew she would never get there. The agency paid her ten dollars an hour and Tammy didn’t allow junkets. Madison didn’t have a car and rent was free, but she still couldn’t save any money. In Paris, a cup of coffee is ten dollars.
    In university, Madison had felt superior to all her grubby backpacker girlfriends who had taken a year off during their English degrees to ride the EuroRail, smoke Dutch marijuana, and have sex with Spaniards. But look where responsibility and hard work and serious scholarship on