The Long Road Home

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NOT for the first time, Tom wondered why they hadn’t stayed in Vancouver. Home was covered in a foot of snow and it had been 15 degrees below zero when he’d kissed his wife goodbye at Pearson airport in Toronto. Here, it was a relatively balmy six degrees above. Almost shorts weather. The city was in fine form today. The clouds had lifted, allowing some of the winter sunlight to trickle through. From his hotel room he had a lovely view of the sparkling Burrard Inlet all the way to the snow dusted North Shore mountains. He could almost see the gondola taking people up to Grouse Mountain. As he watched, a cruise ship left the dock and slowly steamed out under the Lions Gate Bridge. For half a second Tom thought it might hit the bridge, but evidently the sailors knew what they were doing and the gigantic boat made it through. He wondered where they were going. Hawaii, perhaps, or maybe Alaska.

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