Chapter 6
Harry followed his son down their concrete front drive, each lugging a duffel bag with protruding hockey sticks through the crunching fallen leaves. Glancing back to view their Ottawa home, he waved at his wife behind the French doors. He touched Release and the Lexus LS back doors slid to the sides. He threw his bag into the plush carpeted compartment breathing in that new car interior smell. “So this’ll be your side this season, Jase, and the other your brother’s.” Jason mimicked his father, heaving his bag up into the SUV. “Okay dad.” They climbed into swanky front bucket seats and Harry backed out onto their street. “We’ll keep your hockey bags in the Lexus the rest of the winter. You boys each have a game or practice every week and this’ll work for tournaments too. Should be good.” He ruffled his son’s hair.
He drove towards the local Durrell arena. The cold blustery day brought a sure sign of a Canadian winter on the way. He engaged his son in banter. Who was playing on Jase’s team this year and Harry’s memories of his team back when he was fourteen. Jase’s younger brother Sten just had his thirteenth birthday. “How are the new skates?” They had shelled out seven hundred dollars for the boys’ new skates this year. Each! A bit of a kick but hey, they always found a way to pay. The new sticks were a ninety dollar set back too, but the best quality Harry had heard. Not too many broken this year he hoped; he’d appealed to Angie’s soft spot. Who, as a mother, could deny her boys what they deserved? Not a problem, the game came first and a slap shot could always score a goal. You gotta take a chance out on that ice—he could feel the surge of the game rush through him. They’ll need new pads this year. Growing boys he’ll tell Angie; that line helped hedge her resistance.
Harry got Jase talking on his new school. After grade eight at Vincent Massey in their Riverview community, he and Angie applied for their son’s admittance to Ashley College up in chic Rockcliffe Park. Many Prime Ministers’ children had attended that prestigious school. “Hockey school was great this summer, eh?” Best to keep up skating and stick handling skills. “Yeah dad.” Balance that out with the other month of summer they spent at the lake, water skiing and ripping around on the sea-doos. The motor home stayed parked this year and they opted for the rental lake house. There was always next summer. That lake turned out great with their friends and friends’ boys renting the other half of the beach front home. The bush crashing motocross trails for the not-so-hot days were great for the boys. Tentative support of their friends’ mother for boys out on bikes helped console Angie on the danger. They both took a riding safe riding course, but, well, boys will be boys.
Harry turned in at the sign—Jim Durrell Recreation Centre—and found a parking spot. Touching a wheel button with his thumb, he had the back doors slide apart into slots. He loved this new vehicle! They grabbed the bags and walked in through the front doors. When Jase headed off for the change rooms clutching both bags like the little man he was Harry found his way to the ice rink benches. He needed to make a few calls and the unheated yet quiet rink area worked excellent as a communication base. Close to centre line he parked himself in one of the blue plastic seats. Scrolling down his contacts list, he selected Allan, the workmate who didn’t mind going to every NHL game he could.
“Hey Al.” The guy answered right away.
“Hey Harry. What’s up?”
“Just at the rink—Jase has a practice. Hey, you remember last time we talked. I was telling you how Spezza checked Glass in game five. You know, Eastern Conference, semi-finals last season. You remember how they went on to win that game. Now that was a turning point I’m never going to forget; that’s what got the Sens into the playoffs. They have to be hitting back and hitting hard, man. That’s the way they gotta keep playing this year.”
“Yeah, okay Harry, I’ll give you that Spezza’s a good player but his line could definitely use some help. Coach needs to play more Chinsky time on his line. Even Don Junior analyzes that line option.”
“Yeah, well, Mr. Don Junior has a lot of opinions,” Harry said. “Many of which are not too accurate.”
“So Harry,” Allan said. “You got those tickets for the home opener Saturday?”
“Yes, in fact, I picked up season tickets yesterday. You got yours?”
“That other friend I was telling you about did, so yeah,” Allan said. “He got something going that evening so I’m in on his ticket for the game. Should work out again this year, four of us splitting two season tickets. You gonna pick me up?”
“Sounds good Bud,” Harry said. “You get the parking and I will get the beers.”
The Ottawa Senators would be starting the season at home, playing their rival Toronto Maple Leafs. Home team always played a great game, and he’d especially be following the new team captain. Jason Spezza had been traded to the Senators a few years ago and kept getting better and better each year. He’ll have to pick up Allan where he lives just off the Queensway on the way out to the Scotiabank Place.
“We gotta talk shop a bit Allan,” Harry said. “So first, did you set up that meeting for tomorrow with Climate Minister Kendall’s office? We have to confirm the position they want to take at the OECD negotiations. We have to make sure we are clear on that.” Allan affirmed this had been done. “I glanced over that infogram you forwarded from Lewis over at Braunstein and Eichel,” Harry went on. He could picture the man with his shock of premature white hair. “I don’t know what to think, brings a chuckle to me in a way. I mean, they weren’t even negotiating! Seems more like influence peddling, but based on what? Why would they want to take Lewis on a ground tour of some obscure part of Africa? I’ll have to give him a call and see what he says.” Allan agreed it was worth a follow up call. “Right, on my list if I get a chance. We can talk more about that after the game, okay? We have some other high priority issues over the next couple weeks, do we not? Are you up on that Harden presentation next Wednesday. I am going to have André in on that one.”
“Good idea, Harry,” Allan said. “André catches the real gist of what’s going on. Who is ICFSC again? Do you want me to be totally up on this Tim Harden?”
“Make sure you know the basics. Mr. Harden is the director. ICFSC, you know, International Friends of Climate Science Coalition. Been based right here in Ottawa for a few years. Professor Harden taught climate change classes at Carleton from quite a meaningful perspective. He reminds me a lot of my graduate advisor in Montreal. He takes an open ended outlook on climate change. Basically free enterprise will solve the climate change issue if and when it proves true in the eyes of the market and voting citizens. Based on every-day-evidence. So that would be what a real life person like you or me can see, not from the obscure theory of some lab scientist. Most importantly, Minister Kendall’s office has expressed an interest.” Harry had finished his degree in political science at Carlton and then a Master’s of Sustainability Negotiations at McGill.
Allan was new to the climate change negotiations side of the consultancy business but his political negotiating skills are pretty well honed. He had been with the firms’ national team before, so Harry was filling him in on their international tactical team. The guy picked up fast, retained detail well and definitely had a unique demeanour so far. A likable way of speaking went a long ways when things get hot under the collar at the table. Even went so far as reading up on extra research sources. Good fit, Harry had let Harold Heine their CEO know more than once. In his first weeks with H&S Harry had come straight into international negotiations but with some helping guidance to start.
Harry felt the grin on his face as he clicked off this workmate connection and selected call home. As the phone buzzed, he looked out through the plexiglass across the rink. Jase came out on the ice and lifted his stick as he skated past his father. Harry gave a little shoulder-up-in-the-air signal as his son looked back to watch.
“Hey babe, how’s things?”
“Oh, hi honey,” his wife answered. “I am just getting dinner on the table for Sten and I. Oohh H
arry, guess what? I went for lunch with Sylvie today and they’re just moving into their new Lindenlea place. She really loves their new house, and she was telling me all about it. It just sounds so gorgeous.”
“Right, wow, cool. As good our kitchen reno? Was that just last year, babe?”
“I know honey, I know. I like our kitchen, I really do, it’s just when I heard Sylvie talk …”
“Yeah, Angie. Listen you’ll like what I’ve been thinking.”
“Tell me honey.”
“What we’ve been talking about, you know, our place is getting kind of old. So how about we really start looking for a place closer to school for Jase. From the way he talks, he’s fitting right in at Ashbury College. So if Jase still likes it there later in the year, say, well you know how Sten likes everything his brother does, so he should be able to follow his brother over to Ashbury for grade nine next year. I mean Riverview has been a nice community, but we should be looking at a place closer. Up in Lindenlea too or Vanier North. Even right in Rockcliffe Park, hey babe?”
The phone was silent, but he knew he had used his convincing tones, so he waited.
“Oohh Harry, we would barely qualify for that kind of a mortgage. You know that. And we still have payments on our Toyota. I still don’t know if leasing the Lexus LX was such a good idea.”
He knew when to wait, and when to listen. He shushed lightly to not leave a silent blank.
“I really do want to drop in on Sylvie though,” his wife continued. “I’d just love to see her kitchen. The whole place sounds so cute, marble counter tops, beautiful hardwood floors and a built in Jacuzzi out on the deck. You just step out the Montage doors and into the hot water with a glass of wine in your hand.” Harry could taste that sigh in her voice.
“Angie, c’mon babe, we needed the Lexus, remember, we need the space for the boys’ hockey equipment. The Highlander’s just too small. And you like to drive the Lexus, right, especially when the roads get icy.”
“It’s just so big Harry, and awkward.” She sighed again. “But, yes, I do feel safer. I guess it’s one of life’s little trade-offs.”
Harry smiled.
“Contracts are looking pretty good at the office,” Harry said. “I know I’ll be gone for that week in November, the COP negotiations again. But hey, in Florence this time. That’s in Tuscany, babe, you know, the kicked back wine drinking lifestyle. La vita. You’d love it I know but don’t worry, we’ll all go one day. And then bonuses come out in December, I mean looks like they’ll be pretty good this year. We should start looking around at places the next few months, babe. Something newer, definitely bigger.”
“Do you really think so? Oh I love you Harry.”
“Sten has his first practice tomorrow. You gonna come watch?”
“Oohh Harry…maybe. Honey, I have to get Sten’s dinner on the table while it’s hot. I’ll leave you guys something on the stove.”
“Okay babe, love you.”
Harry put the phone back in his pocket. He stood to balance like a kid on his blue formed seat looking over the glass down the ice. Jase and his team were lined up across the other end of the rink and their coach had them in a quick start, skate fast and stop hard drill. As he watched the line of boys each take a turn, he thought of work again, and of his time with Heine and Samson. Things had been quite good the last few years, no question there. The government’s stance on climate change had brought ongoing negotiating contracts to his firm. Good old H&S.
He never forgot that moment when Harold asked about his political persuasion, off the record of course. What insight to have had in his portfolio a photograph of the campaign sign from the last general election right there on his front lawn with his family standing next to him. Harold had leaned in for a glance. That political party that had brought so much business the way of Harold Heine’s company. That had been a Stanley Cup moment. In the political consultancy business, you had to keep your cv current and pertinent to who had been elected; he picked up on that from his professors at McGill. His father had always supported a national security, low tax economy and family focused voting history. So it was easy for him to talk with Harold about market based solutions with a small government keeping a distance.
He lifted a fist, waving his son on as the boy stick handled the puck around the rink.
He wondered about white haired Lewis and that peculiar trip to Africa. What had any country in Africa got to do with real climate change negotiations? They didn’t even fit into the picture as they had no voice at the negotiating table. So why would anyone want to travel there let alone even talk about such an obscure part of the world. He’d have to call and chat.
Bizarre.