June 2021
Life was harder than I thought, life was harder when you are too proud to ask for help or lose your main support system. It was a rather rude awakening if I would admit it to anyone, which I didn't.
Still, I sat at the table with Ken, trying to figure out how much money we had between the two of us and despite both having jobs, it seemed not as much as I thought it was when I got my first two weeks of pay.
"Well, Owen's money will roll back into the budget," Ken tells me and I nod my head.
"I have my cell phone which I pay for myself at this point," I tell him.
"We can probably add a line on my plan and save some money that way?" Ken tells me. "What else is there?"
"Gas for the car, and food of course," I tell him sighing, because Dad had a habit of filling up for my when it was low, and mom did the groceries most of the time only asking me to pick up things here and there. "Activities I take her to occasionally, Tessa lets her into Toes and Tots for free since I work there. Most just things for her, really?"
Ken nods his head. "Rent is 1200, all included which is nice. Then all I really have is internet, phone, food and car."
"We will have to call the government and alert them of our change living arrangements for the child benefit, it may be recalculated with your income in mind, but we'll have that as well, whatever it will be," I tell him.
"Okay, how about this, I will continue to cover rent, we can split groceries, the phone and internet bills. Owens money and whatever the benefit ends up being it will be used for daycare."
"And gas and insurance, especially if I am going to be driving it," I tell him and I watch him add it to the list. "And rent, something for rent if we're going to do this I want to do this right and now just live here without contributing to housing costs."
"What's your paycheque again then," Ken asks, going back to his budget on the computer and I hand him the slip it came with. "All right how about this, Bills are split 70-30, you will 30% of the rent because you make less than me and we can adjust as needed when needed," Ken tells me.
"Thank you," I say nodding my head, though my eyes slightly bulge at the number, it would be doable with what I am making right now. I don't quite now how it will work in the fall, but we would cross that when it came to that I suppose.
The CBC wasn't as daunting as I thought it might be as I tried to open the door with my pass holding two binders, three booklets tablet and my coffee. The person behind me quickly helped and held the door open for me.
"Thank you, Tim!" I say with a hurried smile as I try to make it down to the conference room. I sigh as I reach the room and lay out the table with the binders and booklets. I fill the pitcher of water and warm up the projector for the team. It was different from school of course, and the morning shifts were gruelling but Ken and I made it work. I mostly did clerical and desk work, while on certain days interns had our own small segments, something about trying to garner the attention of the younger generation. It was all web-based but we talked bout movies and technology, books and the newest place to get coffee in the city. Of course, we also filled in when needed, sometimes it was a flash news segment down at an accident or a cat being stuck in a tree. Little things generally that we could easily do.
"I don't understand how you look so put together at 6 am," one of my co-interns Laurel says yawning as she comes in with her own papers from weather and traffic. I look after the news mostly.
"Well, I was up at 6 am for dance before I had my daughter, and then I was up at 6 am because of her. So really 5 am is nothing new for me" I say shrugging, I even manage a quiet 15-minute stretch before going to work which wakes me before quickly eating a banana and doing my makeup quietly in the bathroom. I kiss Owen goodbye, who usually at the point I leave has crawled into bed with Ken. Though the other day I had to distract her so he could quickly throw on his pyjama pants and whatnot.
"How old are you? It's like you have your whole life figured out it's not fair." Laurel says shaking her head. She isn't from PEI, but from New Brunswick. She was pretty with dark blonde hair and blue eyes. I like her, but at the same time we aren't really friends, no one is really friends given our intern status. I also don't necessarily trust them enough yet to really tell them anything more.
"Old enough," I say shrugging I don't talk about my age. All they know is that I live with my boyfriend and I have a daughter among other small things of course.
I straighten the table once more as I see the crew and anchors break, I also fix Laurel's things as well, which she rolls her eyes at. Perfection was something I was already known for and knew they made fun of it behind my back. The door swings open for the half-hour briefing before the 6:30 am morning news and breakfast television. I smile and nod to the hosts and anchors, who smile back at me for finding their spots. While I take my notebook and sit down in my chair taking notes when needed.
I spend the next hours prepping, editing, printing, and making coffee for the newsroom. Some are my own articles, it still felt strange to have my own work go out to the world, and I know from my siblings that Dad has printed out articles and had them framed up on the wall. I kept away from home mostly at this point, which was easy enough, because well I was busy. If I worked the morning shift, I would take Ken's car to work, by noon I was home and we would run errands.
I was filling up my water bottle mid-morning when heard the other interns talking to each other in the lounge area.
"She's only here for two reasons, she's skinny and knows Owen Ford. I heard Anthony talking about it, apparently, he was raving about her to everyone when he stopped by a few weeks ago."
"How does she know Owen Ford?"
"She's dating their son I think, or he's the father of her baby? I don't know everything, but when does the CBC take on interns with a two-year program? It never happens."
I frown, I keep my head down as I pass by them making them shut up as I go towards the local news areas. They shut up instantly, knowing I heard them and I'm almost back to my small desk when I hear the boss call out.
"Rilla, throw on your heels and some make-up" Anthony calls out to me and I look up with deer in the headlights. "We need a stand-in for this afternoon, Cheryl's not feeling well and we told her to go home"
"Are you sure you want me?" I ask unsure and unprepared for tv, especially after hearing the other interns.
"You're the same height in heels, less camera reworking," he says. "Hurry now!" I simply nod my head. I've learned to keep two pairs of heels on hand, and basic make-up for just in case-moments like that. I send Ken a quick text about it as I try to neatly do my make-up as quickly as I could so I wouldn't look washed out under lights and cameras.
"What am I doing?" I asked still trying to fluff out my hair a bit.
"We need you to cover the mid-morning flash news, you essentially wrote it so you know what it's about," he tells me and I nod my head.
I pull it off in some way, somehow, running through the 3-minute segment rather easy. Something about the new library being finished in a nearby area. He was right, I did do the appropriate research and typed up the announcement memo for Sheryl yesterday.
I kick off my heels, checking my phone when I am back at my desk. I barely have time to think about it when I have a video waiting for me, not even five minutes after. It's of Owen standing in front of the tv, most likely yelling Mommy, as she used to do when she saw Ken on tv. I smile and shake my head and pocket my phone. At least I wore my nice green and pink dress today, which I am sure mom will mention in her weekly text. I barely reply other than the necessary pleasantries. I'm not cold, but I also don't say much other than I am fine, I am eating and I am busy working.
"Again, why her?" I hear as I pack up my things for today. "I doubt that her height had anything really to do with his choice."
I keep my head down once again, my phone rings and I grab it as they all look at me. I ignore them and answer them.
"Hey," I say quietly, "No, I'll be home in a fifteen, do we need anything? I'll see you soon then, love you." I say before hanging up. I toss my backpack on and grab my empty coffee cup to bring home to wash. I say goodbye to the crew before leaving thanking them for everything today. When I finally get to Ken's car and take a steady breath. I like the work, I really did it was a decent substitute for not doing what I really wanted to do in life if I had to choose. I just had to ignore the other interns, to not let them get to me so I could do my job to the best of my abilities.
I drive home….it's stills strange to think of the apartment as home but I still smiled when I thought of it. Sure it's only been three months, but it was nice, it really was. It's nice to fall into the heap on the bed and have Owen and Ken come to cuddle almost immediately. Well, Owen cuddles while Ken sits next to me today.
"Everything alright," Ken asks
"The other interns hate me," I say sighing.
"Why what happened?" Ken sits down on the edge of the bed rubbing my hip.
"Your parents," I tell him honestly and I smooth a hand over Owen's back. Kissing her hair, trying to ignore the knee in my ribs until I poke her enough she moves it.
"My parents?" Ken reiterates confused.
"Everyone thinks I'm there because your dad pulled some strings," I say looking up at the ceiling. "I know it's not true, but…it's still annoying after all the work I did in college?"
"Well, I wish I could give you better news, but you're just going to have to get used to it," Ken tells me and I look at him in shock. " I know that's not what you want to hear of course."
"No kidding," I say rolling my eyes. "Okay Owen, you're really starting to hurt mommy," I tell her as she tries to climb over the top of me. Crushing my boobs her feet are in my stomach.
"Elowen, why don't you go play for a few minutes in your room, please?" He asks of her as he picks her up and puts her on the floor. "Mommy and I need a moment to talk?"
Owen looks at him, sticking her thumb in her mouth, before rushing out and you can hear her go through her toy box noisily.
"So that gave us like five minutes," Ken says looking at the clock. "So please don't get me wrong on that it does suck, but all my life everything I have done I have heard those things. If I did well on a show, it was because of my father, if I was that I was a horrible child actor but my dad made them make them keep me on. It never changed, I thought I would have a chance in writing, and history, but you want to know what? Every time I write something, even though my mother has nothing to do with history I get it. Oh, your mother is the journalist Leslie Ford? That's amazing and then it feels like they only want me for the name and not my actual writing. So I get it, truly I do, but sadly it's not going to stop."
"Great," I say sighing. "I should have rethought this whole dating thing," I say sarcastically and he gives me a look of don't say things like that.
"Even so, even if we weren't together. Dad would still rave about you to colleagues and maybe it is a bit less noticeable, but it would still happen to you. Think of it this way, media is all about knowing people, they are jealous you already have contacts in places they never imagined. At the end of the day my mom and dad, wouldn't put you up for anything that you aren't ready for they would tell people that. They don't give handouts, even now Rilla, I always knew that once I graduated college I would expect to support myself, beyond my master's which they helped pay for because it was educational. I've been on my own financially and career-wise, minus a few expenses when I first moved out here because of circumstances."
"How did you do it?" I ask him.
"A lot of work, budgeting and praying that I would make it to payday, and as my jobs changed, things got better?" Ken says shaking his head. "And sure, there were a few times when I asked for help and they gave it, or things like holidays when they want my home they'll usually help me with that. But there are always going to be times when I am annoyed at them when I submit something and Mom's name is brought up, or Dad's. Or just annoyed in general, because they are my parents and we fight and argue as well." Ken explains.
"You argue with your parents?" I ask him rather shocked.
"Of course I do! Who doesn't argue with their parents? I practically seethed when I found Owen watching Lord of the Rings and not the animated version. The fact that you got annoyed at it too, actually helped my case. But back to the point, you're co-workers, work, and mentions of my dad. You just learn to deal with it, because even if you were in another career, if you were dancing or something and he mentioned you or the company on air, and suddenly despite the casting being already chosen or whatever. It would look like favouritism, even when it wasn't, to begin with. It's just how it goes when it comes to having parents with large names. I'm sure your brother Jem gets the same thing as a Doctor, about your Father. "
I nod my head, and I feel him squeeze my hip trying to make me feel better.
"I'll make lunch, and then we can go out for a walk and you can have a bath after dinner, before clunking out for the night?" Ken asked.
I nod my head, and he pats my bottom and gives me a kiss before going to check on our toddler. I get up and rummage through the drawer looking for a pair of leggings and a shirt to wear.
We make it out of the house after lunch and into the car. Driving to one of the parks where Owen can run around in and Jack can play or sniff other dogs as well. We walk around the perimeter of it before we reach the play area and Owen takes off with a squeal, Ken closely following her.
I crouch down and give Jack a good ear scratch. "How are you doing old boy?" I ask him and Jack jumps on my arm and kisses my face.
"Okay, okay, no more kisses," I say forcefully, pushing on his lightly.
"Mommy!" Owen comes running with three other kids. 'Pet Jack?" She asks and I look around trying to find other parents, who are already navigating towards us.
"I don't know baby, their mommies might not like the idea?" I tell her. "They need to ask first?"
"It's all right," The two moms say. "Thank you for asking though."
"No problem," I say crouching down. "Jack's a nice doggy, but you don't want to scare him suddenly, hold out your hands like this and let him sniff you," I explain and they do what I say and in a few moments Jack is licking their hands and they are soon gently petting him. After a few minutes, their mothers tell them to come along.
She watches Ken help Owen on the jungle gym and slides as she sat back with Jack at the picnic table.
"I walk Jack," Owen says happily as she holds the leash. "Like Tank!"
"Yes, you are walking Jack," Ken says grinning. "Now you just have to keep a tight grip on it." He tells her, keeping a hand on her shoulder, I walk beside both of them, slightly worried about jack overtaking her strength.
"Are you sure she's strong enough?" I ask Ken worried about both Owen and Jack getting hurt in some ways.
"She's fine Rilla," Ken uses his other hand to rub my hip. "Jack is well trained and a calm dog."
"Ice cream?" Owen asks as she walks steadily in front of us.
"Later," I tell her shaking my head. "It is still early for ice cream," I explain.
The scene is deafening as I try to comfort Owen who is crying unstoppably. Ken is holding Jack who is whimpering as he tries to figure out what to do, and where to bring him. It all happened so fast, a squirrel running by or was it a rabbit? Neither of us was prepared as the leash ripped out of Owen's little hand, so neither of us was able to grab it in time. The cyclist was fine, and spouting out apologies, telling us the wheel was fine, that he could get it fixed it if was bent too much.
The wheel that Jack had hit, or hit Jack? It looks like a horror scene as his paw got caught up in the spindles of the wheel and his ear got burned from the spinning as he yelped.
Poor Jack is disorientated and whining his one paw curled up to his body.
"Wynnie."
"What about Wynnie?" Ken asks confused.
"She works at a vet's office!" I say grabbing my phone, calling the number praying she would pick up and when she didn't I called Shirley, who did pick up.
I blabber out my reason and Shirley just calmly told me she would call ahead, and told me where to go.
"Owen you have to walk," I tell her as she begs to be picked up as I try to talk to my brother and hold her hand.
Ken is carrying Jack in his arms, we find a blanket in the car, and I buckle Owen into her seat and I get into the passenger seat. Ken lays Jack down on the seat wrapped up in the blanket.
Owen is still crying, and I am on overthinking everything at the moment as everything is a blur as Ken drives, probably the fastest I have seen him drive with Owen in the car.
Wynnie meets us at the door and takes Jack from us and takes him back. I motion for Ken to follow her. I would watch Owen. Hopefully, everything would be okay. It seems like forever, when Ken comes out to sit with us, and another forever before we see Wynnie once more.
"He'll be okay," She tells us before crouching down to Owen. "Did you hear that Owen, Jack-jack will be okay," Wynnie tries to comfort Owen for us. "He just took a tumble and hurt his paw and has a few boo-boos, but they will heal,"
And come with one hell of a vet bill I am sure. Ken goes to talk to the vet and Wynnie stays with us.
"But annn—-teee Wynnnie, I let go," She blubbers. The room is quiet and a few other parents are sympathetic to her crying.
"Accidents happen, Owen, I'm sure you had your strongest grip on that leash, but sometimes if they see something or get excited they can overtake a grown-up. It's not your fault," Wynnie tries to calm her down.
"Remember when mommy accident drove into a tree?" I say thinking out loud and she runs her snotty nose on my shoulder but nods her head. "Much like that accident, there is no right or wrong, good or bad. Sometimes things just happen we can't control. You walked Jack so well by yourself, and we are proud of you for that, him racing off like that no one could have predicted that to happen. When has he ever done that before?"
"I don't know?"
"Correct, he's usually a well-behaved doggy, and I am sure he will second guess his next attempt at running off after a squirrel," I tell her.
"See him?"
"Let me go see?" Wynnie says standing up from her crouching position. She goes back behind the door once again and it takes a moment before she opens it once again.
"We're going to keep him here for hours, run a few more tests to make sure he's all good, but you can tell him you'll see him later. He'll be a little sleepy from some medication we gave him, but first, let's pick a sticker for his booboo?" Winnie explains to her showing her an array of stickers. I look over to Ken still chatting with the vet. I want to ask if Jack is truly all right, but I can't find the words. So instead I watch Owen who nods as she solemnly chooses her sticker and follows Aunty Wynnie into the back room.
Jack is lying down on a bed in a less clinical area, with blankets and beds, and cages as well. There is ointment on his face from where it had been scratched up, and one paw was wrapped up in bright red bandages to cover the small cast. His one ear is looking worse than the other, but he's otherwise fine. His long dachshund body rested in the blanket we brought him in, making his wiry blank and tan stand out against the yellow blanket.
He looks up at Owen slowly, whining as she plopped down in front of him.
"Me sorry Jack-Jack," she tells him and he licks her offered hand. She places the sticker gently on his bright red cast and leans down kisses his nose before we could stop her. His tail swishes once for her but his eyes are tired.
I look to Ken once more as he comes towards us, his hand finds mine.
I hope this wasn't too much of a scene! Don't worry I think Jack will be just fine in a little bit! Poor little guy!