“Doris also doesn’t suffer fools,” William added, “and doesn’t shy away from challenging authority.A lot like you.Hence the politically charged articles she slips in between the cosmetic ads.”
“And no one upstairs has caught on?”
Her father shook his head.“I hate to say it, but Maclean-Hunter doesn’t give a hoot aboutChatelaineas long as it keeps them in the black.”
Emily nodded.“That’s what Doris says, too.”She took a deep breath, thinking for a moment about the “ladies’ stuff,” about Doris’s evident frustration when Ted the delivery driver innocently reported thatMaclean’shad sent him downstairs toChatelainesimply because the content of the note referenced women, and was therefore relegated to some tacit second tier of journalism.
“Well,” she began, “what you were just saying, about me probably not having to write the fluff forever?”She withdrew the prisoner’s letter from the pocket of her skirt, passed it to her father.“This found its way to me at the office.”
He scanned the crumpled paper, which had become softer now from so many hands on it.Emily herself had read it at least a dozen times.She watched him, as she often did when he worked, to see the analysis in his blue eyes.Curls of smoke wafted upward from the cigarillo in the brown-glass ashtray beside him, disappearing like a spectre into the warm spring air.
“Well,” he said, finishing.“That’s quite something, Em.”He looked up at her, eyes twinkling.“So I assume you’re showing me this for a reason.”
She told him everything then, from what she’d learned at the Legislative Library to her exchange with June Jones, and the conversations they’d had in Doris’s office.She braced herself for the proposal, then plowed on.
“Having a woman incarcerated there appears to be more a matter of opinion than any real reflection of her wrongdoing.So, we’d like to see if it’s really as simple as it seems.”
“Well,” he began, head tilting from side to side as he mulled it over, “if there’s credence to it, it is a great story.And I’m sure Doris is right, if the abuse is as bad as the allegations, and it’s government-run, that’s headline news, and in a women’s mag to boot.Even the men upstairs would be impressed by that.So what’s the plan?”
Emily’s insides jolted with excitement.“The only thing we can think of is to get in there somehow.Get a writer inside to witness it for herself.And, well…we’re talking about that writer being me.”
He paused, tapped the cigarillo on the ashtray.“Undercover, you mean?Inside the Mercer prison?”
“Yes.”
A long pause.“And Doris is askingyouto do this?Why?”
“Because the other writers can’t take the time away from their families,” Emily told him.“But I want to do it, and I’m the only one who can.”
He pulled on his little cigar once again, brow furrowed in concern.The sound of dishes clattering and Bess humming drifted out the screen door behind them.The scent of lilacs wafted from the back of the yard.
“Mm.So how would you go about it?”
“Well, I would need your help,” Emily said, “to have me deemed ‘incorrigible.’A parent can bring their daughter before the judge.You could make up some story about how you and Mom are at the end of your wits with me, and need them to sort me out.”
She smiled at her little joke, tried to get him to soften, but this time he didn’t return the grin.
“Jeez, Em,” he said.He crossed one leg over the other.“You want me to help you get sent to prison?”
The heat rose in her neck.She had to convince him, or there was no hope for it.“I want you to help me scoop a storyabouta prison that could solidify my career, Dad.And hopefully make a difference while I’m at it.”
He exhaled smoke again, meeting her eyes now, but said nothing.
Emily sat forward.“Dad, having your name got me intoChatelaine, but I want more than what an editorial assistant gets to do.I want to be areal reporterlike you were.Like youare.You know that’s what I’ve wanted since I was a child.”
He did let out a breathy chuckle then, holding her gaze.“I know.I’ve still got those stacks of family newsletters you used to produce, remember?They’re in my desk drawer.Reports on the neighbours’ comings and goings, reviews of your mother’s new recipes.The argumentative column you wrote for three months straight when you were campaigning for a cat.”
Emily watched the emotion of the memory wash over his features, and it made her strangely sad then, to think of that ten-year-old girl clacking away at her dad’s typewriter and filling notebook after notebook with diary entries, short stories, even poetry, all of which were still stashed under her bed along with the children’s books.That girl had wanted to emulate her father, her dreams bigger and more out of reach than she could even comprehend.Emily didn’t know now if the Nancy Drew stories she’d read were, at the end of the day, a liberating escape ora fallacy that tricked her young mind into believing that girls could ever be seen as just as clever and brave and capable as boys.Because she knew now, as a grown woman, that the stories she’d read of women leading adventurous lives were a fantasy, not a mirror.There were only a handful who had managed to forge such paths for themselves.If Nancy’s story had continued all the way to adulthood, what would have happened?Would it have ended in her capitulating to marriage and babies and burying forever her sense of curiosity, her thirst for adventure and justice?That would have been the end of Nancy’s life as she knew it, and Emily couldn’t let it be hers.Knowing Jem was going to propose soon, the Mercer opportunity now felt imperative, as though it was both the long-term ticket to the life she wanted, and an escape hatch from the current situation with Jem.
“Dad,” she continued.“If I can secure a scoop like this atChatelaine, I’ll probably get promoted, or I could take that clout elsewhere—theStar, orGlobe.But I’m a woman.They won’t even look at me if I don’t have some serious stories to my name, even if it is Radcliffe.You know that.This is my chance.”
Her dad nodded slowly.“I’m sorry, Em.I’m sorry it’s different for you.Life would be much easier for so many girls if they’d just been born boys.I’m not sure why it matters so much, eh.”He paused.“But, if I’m honest, it does.Somehow it does.If you were my son I’d be telling you to do it, that your girl would wait for you, that thisisa great opportunity.But I’m having trouble.I’m sorry.This seems so dangerous.This note…” He handed it back to her.
Emily’s heart sank.“So…is that a no?”
He shook his head.“No.It’s not a no.But I do have questions.What about Jem, for a start?You’d be gone for, what…three months, you said?”
Emily swallowed.“I know.That would be the end of us.But the truth is, I don’t see that as a bad thing, Dad.”She’d considered this, too.“Instead of outright refusing him, with this plan, we can both save face a little by hanging the reason for our split on this investigation, on the time I would need to take away from my loved ones.”
