It was a Saturday and Janie’s mom was not working at the golf course. When Janie had left that morning, she was still in bed. Janie had figured by the empty bottle on the kitchen table from the night before that she’d be sleeping much of the day. Ever since Janie’s dad had walked out on them two years ago, leaving them nothing but bills, her mother had become what Janie had later learned was a functioning alcoholic.

“Come on,” Nikki said.

“But we’re not members,” Janie said. “We won’t get in.”

“We’ll get in. I’ll do all the talking,” Nikki said. “Let’s do it. It’ll be fun.”

Janie saw sparks in Nikki’s eyes, felt herself being pulled, felt her resistance crumble. Nikki was their leader and always would be. So they went, setting in motion events that would change Eternity forever.

Two

Eternity, Manitoba
2000

When the girls got to the host station, Nikki was prepared.

“My dad’s finishing his game. He said that me and my friends were supposed to wait for him in the restaurant. His name’s William Carruthers.”

The host guy gave them a quick, guarded appraisal before he started looking in his book. The air was appetizing, inviting and carried the sound of conversations, cutlery clinking. “I’m afraid he doesn’t appear to be listed.”

Janie tugged at Nikki’s wrist, a signal to abandon the plan. Nikki shrugged it off.

“We’re from Winnipeg,” Nikki said. “He’s discussing business with people here, big business.”

“Do you know who he’s with, the member’s name, perhaps?”

“I don’t. But if it’s a problem I’ll just tell my dad you couldn’t let us in.”

Weighing her subtle threat and the ramifications, the host smiled. “No. Not a problem. For three?”

“Four. For when my dad comes,” Nikki said. “He likes to be by the window.”

“Of course. Right this way.”

He led them to a corner with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out to a sea of green. Their table was dark wood with rolled white linen napkins, ornate glass goblets and high-backed white leather chairs. Soft music was playing as their server, a woman Janie did not know, brought them menus. They each ordered sodas and apple pie with ice cream.

“This pie is so good,” Marie said. “I feel like royalty.”

“Look at them over there showing off their money.” Nikki glanced at the other tables, eyeing men as some paid, signing and leaving cash tips. “We’re just as good as those rich people, right, Janie?”

Janie had stopped in midchew, emotions swirling as, across the dining room, she saw her mother taking an order. Believing she was home, Janie was shocked. At the same time, witnessing her mother in a servile situation, displaying an artificial smile, one Janie had never seen before, filled her with embarrassment, sadness. And fear.