She snickered. “You’d think Finnegan would’ve learned by now. Nothing’s a secret.”
“Slowly it’s dawning on me.” I sipped my water.
“Anonymity in the big city?” She eyed me.
“Something like that.”
“You’ve never married?”
“Mom.” Part exasperation. Part warning.
“Never met anyone who made me want to tie the knot. Hell, it wasn’t even legal when I was in high school. Then Canada legalized same-sex marriage and I graduated high school and…it never happened.”
“You studied journalism?”
“Yes. At UBC.”
“Good school.”
“Yes.”And very expensive. Even back then, I’d had to borrow a pile of money to make it all work. The day I’d paid off that loan had been one of the happiest of my life. I liked living debt-free.
“Why journalism? That’s an unusual career path.”
“Pie?” Finn stood. “Technically anything is an unusual career choice since every job is different, right?” He made his way over to the kitchen. “Are we heating the pie and adding ice cream?”
His mother persisted, “I’m just saying—”
“What?” Finn reappeared from behind the corner. “Careful.” He directed that to Valerie.
I cocked my head.
“I’m not a racist, Finnegan. You bloody well know me better than that. Your grandmother would have something to say about this relationship, but that’s on her, not me.”
“Mom.” More admonishment than frustration.
Clearly I was missing something. “Is this because you don’t see as many reporters of color? Because that’s certainly changing.” Even in the eighteen years since I’d earned my degree, several of the lead anchors of news shows in Vancouver now wereminorities. The topechelon was still whiter than perhaps necessary—but things were changing. They were improving.
Valerie met my gaze. “I just didn’t picture you behind a desk.”
“Because I’m more of a shoe-leather reporter. I have no interest in being in front of the camera—I never have.”
“You’re attractive enough for it.”
“Mom.” Now complete exasperation.
“I thank you for the compliment. I prefer the written word.”
“You used to do some hard-hitting reporting in Vancouver. Nothing like the fluff you’ve been relegated to doing in Mission City.”
“Oh my God.” Finn handed his mother a plate with a slice of pie and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
“It’s okay.” I smiled. “You can’t always believe what you read in the newspapers.”
“Well, that’s a damning statement.” Valerie pointed her fork at me. The look in her eyes told me, yes, she’d seen not just my longtime byline but the whole mess at the end.
I shrugged, acting like I didn’t care what Finn’s mother had read about me. “I’ll admit to making a bad mistake and coming to Mission City for a fresh start.”
“How’s that working out for you?” She ate a forkful of pie.
