Grave Concern by Judith Millar

it with equanimity. Fair. A perfect winter day that also happened to be Christmas. Kate decided to walk the three kilometres, give or take, to Mary’s house.

    â€œBlow into his nose,” commanded Mary, standing stolid but relaxed in rubber boots.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou heard me. It’s how they get to know you.”
    Skeptical, Kate did as she was told. Ned Nickers pulled away. “There, you see? I told you no living creature could withstand this breath.”
    â€œCoincidence,” said Mary, and laughed. “C’mon. You must be starved. Go on into the house while I get Ned Nickers his Christmas hay.”
    Over way too many Pillsbury croissants spread with real Newfoundland cloudberry jam — “an old Christmas tradition,” Mary grinned — Kate, at Mary’s urging, filled in the details of John Marcotte’s request.
    Mary admitted she was puzzled. “Why would he suddenly want to know where his son is buried, do you think?”
    â€œDunno. I don’t think there’s anything deep or nefarious about it. I just figure, time passing, getting older, you know. Maybe he’s feeling guilty about J.P.’s upbringing, which wasn’t exactly a model of positive discipline. Maybe he’s lonely, softening up in his old age. People change. Well. Some people change.”
    â€œTrue. You can see him sitting there all alone watching TV, maybe starting to blame himself for the way things turned out.”
    â€œOne time when J.P. was hanging around with his smoking buddies, he had a huge black eye and swollen cheek. I just put it out of my mind, avoiding embarrassment, I guess.”
    â€œFor him.”
    â€œFor me. Myself. I hate to say it, but I think I felt ashamed of my weakness.”
    â€œWeakness?”
    â€œIn thinking his situation shameful, that I was somehow better than him. Am I making any sense?”
    â€œNot much.”
    Kate hesitated, then ploughed on. “You know, whatever he was proclaiming there by the drugstore was four-lettered, but at the same time it was like he was absolving the perpetrator. As though he deserved ill treatment. Very weird.”
    â€œNot that weird, I guess. Teen torn in two, still trying to believe in the happy family myth. In any case, it would all go a long way to explaining J.P.’s direction in life.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œAnd you were doing that female thing, wanting to rescue him. Good job things turned out the way they did, or, in my experience, you’d be the one underground.”
    â€œYou saying I’m one of those bad-boy groupies bent on reforming the poor dear?”
    â€œYou don’t really seem the type, I have to admit. But it’s been decades, Kate. You were both so young. People do change, as you say.” Mary pulled her feet off the chair where they’d rested and stood up, looming over Kate. Long-legged and square-framed with a square-ish face to match, Mary exuded reassurance, an old-fashioned kind of faith in the mundane. “Look, dear, I believe the sun’s after trying to come out. It’s Christmas. A beautiful day for a stroll in the country. I’m thoroughly sick of the bad in this world, aren’t you? Let’s go out and look for the good.”

    Tactical Assault , Terminator 4 , TRON . Exactly a week after a lovely Christmas Day spent with Mary, Kate stood in deep despair before the DVD rentals shelf at Ho Lam Video and Electronic. Why hadn’t she figured out how to get pay-on-demand on her parents’ TV? She knew why. It would require a whole new set-up, not the rabbit ears her parents had been perfectly happy with. And that would require more monthly expense, not so easy to square with a marginal business model such as Grave Concern.
    Okay, Kate told herself, quit the pity party. Try the B’s. Bachelor Party Massacre , Bachelor Tom and His Bikini Playmates , Back to the Planet of the Apes . Kate felt warm in her