Time Meddlers

  ****

  Later that night, while Sarah’s dad was tucking her into bed, she broached the subject of the potential meeting on Parliament Hill. He’d just drawn the narrow slats of her beige blinds, walking easily over the spotless carpet. She had a couple of books on her nightstand and a clock radio, but otherwise every piece of sporting equipment she owned was neatly tucked in her closet, and every article of clothing had been folded and slipped into her drawers. She slid into the smooth, freshly scented sheets and began.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “I made a new friend today at school. He even lives on our street.”

  “That’s wonderful. See, Ottawa isn’t as cold and miserable as you thought it was.” He smiled and stroked her hair.

  “Yes,” said Sarah. “But there’s more. He’s actually Professor Barnes’s son.”

  “The Professor Barnes?”

  Sarah nodded vigorously. “And Matt—that’s his son—and Professor Barnes’s assistant would like to show us some videotapes of his discoveries. Isn’t that exciting?”

  “Absolutely,” said her father.

  “Only Nadine, that’s Professor Barnes’s assistant, can’t let us into the lab.” She explained about the sensitive nature of the lab environment and how she’d offered up her father’s conference room and equipment. “Do you think that would be okay?”

  He stroked his chin. “I suppose. Except you have school on Friday and I have a caucus meeting in Parliament.”

  “No, no. Not during school or work hours. After.”

  Her dad’s forehead creased farther into his thinning hairline. “How did you manage to finagle this one?”

  Sarah smiled. “Oh, you know me.”

  “I certainly do.” His stern expression suddenly dissolved. He grabbed her into his arms and squeezed the stuffing out of her. Sarah glowed as she hugged him back.

  “I love you, Dad,” she said.

  “Right back at you, kid. Sleep well.” He stepped out of her room, rubbing his chin.

  Sarah snuggled down into the blankets and sighed.