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hs79150.jpgbuy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request) day 79

Lisa came home shortly after Rebecca left, sneaking in like a teenager though the back door. Bob didn’t ask her where she’d been. She mumbled something about taking a shower and made her way to the stairs. She was still wearing her tight T-shirt from the night before, the one adorned with red rhinestones that spelled LONDON PUNK. Bob told her to wait, that they needed to talk. Could she get Julie and meet him in the living room?

Lisa cracked the top of a tall can of beer. Julie picked short, coarse hairs off her black pants. “Was there a cat in here?”

“We need to talk about Rebecca,” Bob said. He paced the length of the living room sofa where Lisa and Julie sat.

Julie groaned. “What now?”

“She’s back. In Whitehorse,” Bob said. “I saw her today.”

“She was here?” Lisa asked. Bob nodded. “Is she staying?” Lisa looked around the room.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if she knows,” Bob said.

“Then what did she want?” Julie asked.

“She wanted to know about her mother.”

Julie groaned again, louder this time. “Gross.”

Bob steadied his voice, trying to contain his anger. “It is not ‘gross,’ Julie. Rebecca is not ‘gross,’ her mother is not ‘gross,’ I am not ‘gross.’ If anyone’s behaviour is ‘gross,’ it is yours, Julie. And it needs to stop. I love Rebecca as much as I love you, and I fell in love with her mother just like I fell in love with yours.”

“Jesus, Bob, do you really have to go there?” Lisa chugged her beer.

“Yes, I do. This is something I think you both need to hear.”

Bob told the story of him and the Lady Sasquatch, Helene. He became more animated as he went on and details – things that in his nervousness he hadn’t remembered to tell Rebecca – came back. There was the time Helene, sensing that Bob felt homesick, stole away from their home late at night and swiped a cooler filled with beer from slumbering campers. There were all those times that they swam naked in the lake. And there was that winter – the only one they spent together — when it became apparent that Helene was pregnant.

Bob didn’t sit until he was done. He dropped into his favourite chair, at the same time exhilarated and exhausted.

Julie stood and brushed more short, coarse hairs off the back of her black pants. “Can I go now? I have to meet Stew.”

Neither Bob nor Lisa replied. Julie left with her keys and a whatever.

Lisa picked herself up off the sofa and toward the stairs. “I need to take that shower.”

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                                                                                                                                                          ©2008 pamela klaffke