I’m rarely invited to family events as I have been deemed the weird black sheep, which of course, is quite rich coming from those who bare my blood, but that’s for another day… anyway, I was wholly surprised when I received a text from my cousin’s kid (what’s the right term, once-removed?) inviting me to her birthday party.

The caveat being I was not to be seen.

Her diary had gone missing and she was entirely certain it was her sister but she also noticed her mother asking suspiciously indirect questions thus was also… suspicious. Not verbatim. It was requested that her birthday present be the rightful return of her diary – but I was not to be seen as to keep the culprit in suspense, also that I’d be a give away since I’m “the queer snoop”. Verbatim, but she was quoting my cousin-in-law (right term this time?). I don’t think he likes me because I don’t like him, it’s a mutual understanding that was established immediately by eye contact and thus we have never needed to converse directly, for which I am grateful.

As she can’t be responsible for who her father is, I was willing to help her out. The only thing was they lived in a small country town not far from here and perhaps that’s too generous, it’s more like a hamlet. There’s one road, if there’s a party, everyone is parked on it and all your neighbours know who had something going on.

I just had to be grateful that it was her sweet sixteen and they went all out and rented space from the llama farm that wraps the wee ville on one side (the other side backs onto a vineyard), inviting what seemed like half of her school. There were cars everywhere, parked, idling, trying to navigate the horde of adolescents. I parked a bit away from the house but close enough to the chaos that I hoped I’d be seen as no more than a teenager’s chauffeur or one of them. I still get carded when I go to the licbo, but not the beer store, won’t read into that though.

Everyone was making their way to the back, I shuffled around the front, phone in hand looking impatiently at the road in the distance. Once a good crowd was gone and the next wave still half in their parents’ cars, I slipped into the sun room. My uncle never locked it, so I was assuming my cousin would also never. I mean, who would just walk in, besides me.

I peaked in the window to the kitchen, my cousin and some other moms were doing prep. The cake was there, rather two, massive slabs, one vanilla, one chocolate. Classic. I waited until there was only one in there and opened the door. Quick check, no one in the living room, I ascended the stairs.

I hadn’t been here since before my aunt and uncle passed, they did a retelling of their marriage vows after 50 years. Crazy. I think my longest relationship was 50 weeks. They painted… or my memory was off, I had actually only gone upstairs once, generally in winter we all hung in the living-room-kitchen corridor. I didn’t hear anyone up here, it was time to search for a pink diary, bedazzled at the corners, glitterfied and feathers stuck in the interspinal space.

My removed cousin told me the layout so I went to her room first, as with most cases, I first assume the person lost it themselves in a familiar spot at eye-level that somehow renders things invisible as the brain is searching for something out of place rather than in place. There was a poster of a boy band I did not recognize and a few things that might lend to a snooping mother to ask some poignant questions. No diary however, off to the sister’s room.
 
The difference in the room was not so vast, younger boy band and girl band posters that were in my mental blindzone. Less pink things but more cyan, and much more organized. I love-hated organized people because it made it easier to search but harder to leave no trace. They always knew. Well, no diary here that was out of place, just some dog floof.

A quick zip through the bathroom to put off searching my cousin and her husband’s room yielded zilch. I entered the master, dog bed, king bed, ensuite, no walk-in but an array of wardrobes and chests of drawers. I searched the bathroom first again, a half done tiling job and missing toilet were the backdrop of a mess of tools and buckets. Ah, homeownership and renovations, dreams that remain far away for many reasons. Anyway, no diary amongst all that nor the pretty standard affair of a disorganized vanity.

I peaked back out into the bedroom after hearing some creaking sounds. I crouched half behind the door and listened. A spattering of conversation from below, shuffling and the creaking of the backdoor. I think that needed to’ve been oiled a decade ago. Quiet again, I sprang up and got back to it.

The bathroom may have been a united mess but the room was clearly divided into his and hers after taking a quick peak. Now, I need you to know, when I search and find intimate things that aren’t pertinent, they are quickly swept away from my mind as they are not completely registered. Had I taken a longer look I may have processed and learned more than I needed to about my cousins but when there was no diary, I moved on and out of my mind.

Nothing, not even under the dog bed. I would have to search downstairs, shit, it would have helped if I took a gander at the sunroom. It was pretty empty, maybe?, going to say it’s safe to not revisit. Perched at the top of the stairs, I listened for activity and tippy-toed down.

I got to the bottom of the stairs and saw someone coming through the front. Their back turned to close the door, I zipped over and crouched behind the chesterfield. A precarious position as I was open to the behind to windows facing out back and the odd L shaped room that led to the mudroom.

The person moved in and went to the kitchen, something thunked on the counter. Footsteps came closer to me, I moved to the weird room, trying to stay low but if anyone bothered to look in, I’d be done for. The steps kept coming, who was this, clearly everyone else was not taking this pathway! I continued on to the mudroom and heard the squeak of that dumb weather door and slipped into the half-bath.

I was not used to sneaking around like this and my heart was pounding. Following someone from afar, creeping in an empty office at night, those kinds of low-stakes things. A hand touched the doorknob and my whole being jumped, quite literally out of the window. I stayed prone as I fell out of it and waited there.

My eventual sigh was a breath I think my first in a minute. There was no commotion, so I guess no one saw that awkward display. This side of the house was thankfully a narrow yard overfilled with vegetation providing cover from all sides, only a small dirt path went through leading to the doghouse. I dared not take a deep sniff to see if I perhaps landed in anything.

After crawling away from the window to stand up, peaking around the corner, the party way in the back behind the detached garage, that would have to be my next stop, as it also had a small workshop that’d be good for hiding things a dad may have taken from his daughter, I waited for the coast to be clear and tried to move across the yard.

There were some people approaching. I recognized the voice, it was my cousin, she’d definitely know it was me. I looked around and there was only the dog house. I won’t tell you how I got inside so quick, because I’m not entirely sure myself, panic does unlock the human potential for that I am certain now. It actually didn’t smell as bad as I thought.

“There’s so many people here, too many cars, I couldn’t even get close to the driveway.” A guy’s voice said.

“It’s been chaotic all morning.” My cousin.

They were getting closer, I shuffled back as far as I could and spiderman’d my best to keep myself plastered to the back wall and up in the roof. I couldn’t get my one foot back all the way and looked back down to see if I could gently move whatever it was or rest my foot on it without it hopefully being some evil squeaky toy.

It was a book. I nudged it forward a bit, a pink book, glittering and bedazzled, bits of multi-coloured feathers adorned its spine. Seriously, the dog? In the surprise, I also slipped and fell head right at the entrance.

“What, who’s in there, get out?” The guy’s voice said.

“Wait, is that you, cuz’?” See, told you, my head was only quarter turned and she clocked me.

“Hey, cuz’.” I said, crawling out. “There’s —”

“Don’t say there’s a perfectly good reason why you’re in our doghouse.” The in-law.

“Well, perfectly wasn’t the adverb I was going for, more along the lines of ‘adequately’ or ‘objectionably’.”

“You’re such a nuisance.”

“Honey, I’m sure Ty has a reason, he’s not some weird pervert.” Exactly, thank you… I think.

“No, he’s just a trouble maker, he’s the entire reason Emily went off to BC!”

I did what. “Who’s Emily?”

“My older sister, you corrupted her in high-school.”

“No, there’s no way you’re related, she’s so pretty.”

“It’s his stepsister.” My cousin said. Again, helpful but insulting, at least it went the other way. I wasn’t sure who’s side she’s on.

“It doesn’t matter, you, with all your…” he gestured at me up and down, “whatever, I won’t let you do anything to my family again.”

“I’m pretty sure all I said was, ‘if you want to go out to BC for college, we should probably end our relationship before summer’. She agreed. It was perhaps the most amicable breakup I’ve had.”

“Exactly, if you hadn’t stolen her away from Chad, she’d still be here.”

“Didn’t Chad go to jail for a domestic?” Okay, my cousin was definitely on my side.

“What does that—”

“DADDY!”

We all looked over, it was my baby cousin, removed or whatever, except about three feet taller than the last time I saw her.

“Stop making things about you, it’s my birthday, it’s supposed to be about me.”

I do occasionally make things up, but that was from the mouth of a babe. Wait, I don’t think that’s what that’s about.

“Honey, listen, your cousin—”

“You found it!” She pointed at the diary I had been holding half behind my back this whole time.

“Yes,” I held it up, “the dog had it.”

“The dog?” My cousin.

“Yes, the dog.”

“Patch had it?” My in-law.

“Yes, if that’s your dog’s name.”

“Why did Patch have it?” The birthday queen asked, taking the diary from me.

“You’d have to ask the dog.”

“Are you sure it was Patch?” She looked at the diary, there was a bit of a chomp in it, hard to deny.

“Well, I searched pretty much everywhere else in the house, no feathers or glitter where there shouldn’t be.”

“You did what?” In-law.

“Honey, see, he was on a case, our daughter asked him here to help out.”

“He went through our house!”

“Daddy, stop making a scene, he helped me.” She turned to me, “thank you for the birthday present, would you like some cake?”

“That’s fine, I’m going to head back to the office.”

“Okay, bye-bye!” A quick wave and she spun around to return to her friends. That was an easy dodge.

My in-law appeared to be evolving more and more into a smokestack, I was going to comment on it but took a cue from the young one.

“It was great seeing you, cuz.” I gave her a wink and spun, not so subtly jogged back to my car. No more pro bono cases. Not even family. Especially not.