The Underside of Joy

week. Well, Aunt Bernie certainly had a lot to love. ‘My, my, my,’ I said to Callie, who rested her paws on the console between us and twitched her forehead nine different ways at me. It seemed that whenever I’d figured out something about Paige, or began to feel compassion for her, she’d show yet another side. Who was this woman who’d plastered herself on a billboard? Maybe pigeons would perch on it, leaving streaks of Columba livia shit all over her.
    Still, how much more obvious of a sign did I need? I punched the number into my cell phone. As always, Paige didn’t answer, so I left a message telling her I was in town. This time she called me right back.
    ‘You’re in Las Vegas?’ she asked.
    ‘Yep.’ I was trying for casual, cheerful, even. ‘Nice billboard.’
    ‘Oh, that – I got a good deal on it. I actually get quite a lot of calls from it.’
    I stifled an I bet.
    ‘Why are you here?’
    ‘Well, not to gamble. I want to see the kids.’
    ‘Ella. You’re not thinking about Annie and Zach.They’re trying to make a huge adjustment. The judge knew what he was doing when he put the first visitation a month away. You don’t live here. Why mislead them now?’
    ‘Must I remind you that the judge was about to make a quite dif –’
    ‘No. You don’t need to remind me. Look, Ella. I’m only asking for time. And I think you need time too. To rebuild your life without Annie and Zach.’
    ‘But don’t you see? You’re cutting me out? Doing the same thing you say Joe did to you?’
    ‘My number one concern is for the kids.’
    ‘Then why did you take them away from me? We were happy . . .’ My voice broke, but I held it together. The last thing I needed to do was blubber at Paige. Besides, I was driving and a semi was on my tail.
    ‘Go home, Ella. Wait a month. Then call us.’
    ‘Who says I’m not home?’ I blurted out.
    She sighed. ‘You mean you were lying about being here?’
    ‘No, I mean maybe I moved here.’ Did I really just say that? Silence.
    ‘Paige? Can you hear me?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘So now will you let me see the kids?’
    ‘You can see them in twenty-two days, as ordered by the court. Good-bye, Ella.’ She hung up before I could respond.
    That went well. I pulled off the freeway and found an ampm store and picked up the Las Vegas Sun. I grabbed a pint of ice cream too, knowing I didn’t have a freezer back at the No-Tell Motel, knowing I’d have to eat it all in one sitting. My version of living life on the edge in Las Vegas.
    Along one of the aisles, a yellow notebook caught my eye. It was bigger than the one I’d carried around before my dad died, but it looked similar, spiralled across the top like mine had been. Flipping through its blank pages, I thought about that little red-haired girl with her binoculars who’d been so curious, so full of whys? And whos? And whats? She’d finally woken up a few weeks ago after decades of sleep, had already been busy shaking things up, wreaking havoc, yes, but hell, I loved the kid. She was a good kid. She’d already taught me a thing or two. And she needed a notebook.
    Even though I despised Las Vegas, I’d told Paige I’d moved. I’d left out the word temporarily. I couldn’t stand the thought of Annie and Zach being raised in a town known for gambling, drugs, and prostitution, but more than that, I couldn’t stand the thought of them being raised there without me. Nor could I stand the thought of returning to Elbow without them. And judging from our first phone conversation, things with Paige were not going to happen quickly. I had three options, and I hated all of them. A place was just a place. I could deal with missing Elbow. Temporarily. I opened the paper up to the classifieds and started looking for an apartment. I wrote addresses down in my notebook. I had time to kill, and I wanted to make Annie and Zach feel at home when they visited me, not sitting perched on a bed in a tacky motel room.
    Each day, I walked Callie for hours, exploring different neighbourhoods where we might find an apartment, lingering in any slip of green offered up in the new and small manicured parks. The wind blew dust and debris, rolling tumbleweeds of Big Gulp cups, crushed cigarette boxes, plastic grocery bags. The sun beat down on us, forcing us to take frequent water breaks. I ached for Elbow, for the garden and the chickens, the cool river and the picnic store – but ached much more for Annie and Zach.
    The court