by: M-A

"Daaaaaddy!"

Inuvik's scream resounds through the house and I smile. Everything my daughter does makes me smile.

I don't respond fast enough, so I soon hear the sound of her running through the house towards me. "Daaadddy!" she yells again the minute she has me in her sight, "Benny kidnapped Barbie and won't give her back to me!"

I suppress a laugh. "He's holding Barbie hostage?"

"He says that he won't give her back to me unless I play dump trucks with him! I *hate* playing dump trucks!"

"Inuvik," I chastise her gently. "You and Benny *always* play Barbies together. Benny just wants to do something *he* likes for a while."

"But Benny *likes* playing Barbies, Daddy!"

"Yes, he does, but not all the time. And I know you like playing dump trucks sometimes."

She looks down before mumbling a reply. "I guess so, Daddy."

"It's a beautiful day out, Inuvik. Why don't you and Benny go play outside for bit. You can build sand castles and--"

She interrupts me. "If I play dump trucks with Benny, can Barbie and I go for a swim after?"

"Sure, honey. Now, what are you going to say to Benny?"

"Benny, please give me my Barbie and we can go play dump trucks."

"That's my girl."

`Course, she doesn't always do what she says she'll do. Next thing I hear is Benny yelling across the house. "Raaaaay! Inuvik called me a moron!"

Laughing, I continue to chop tomatoes for tonight's dinner.

***

I don't know why Sarah and I called our daughter Inuvik. That decision was met with a lot of derision. But it seemed fitting, somehow. Inuvik Vecchio. At five, she's vibrant and alive and as bright as her hair is dark. Much as she and Benny bicker constantly, she's fiercely protective of him. She calls him a moron with the greatest affection, but beware the outsider who dares call him that. Inuvik and Benny are at about the same age right now. She compensates for his weaknesses, and vice versa. They're a team and I hope their bond lasts even when Sarah becomes more aware of Benny's limitations.

Benny's been brain damaged for a little over ten years now. Ten long years that have just flown by. I kept on hoping that Benny would get `better', but he doesn't. He reads pretty well now, but his understanding is so limited. I tried to get him to read some of his dad's diaries a few years ago, but he just couldn't grasp the concepts in them. He vaguely remembers Bob Fraser, and that he was important, and that he solved crimes, but Benny doesn't quite get `right' and `wrong' any more the way he used to. He's back in that innocent stage of life where right and wrong are black and white and a `sorry' is sufficient in making things right again. I think it was about three years ago that Sarah pointed out that I've come to terms with the `new' Benny and accepted that he'll never remember what he used to be like.

***

Benny and Inuvik play dump trucks for an hour, then Benny helps Inuvik fill up the wading pool. He makes sure she has all the toys she wants then comes into the house. I'm still in the kitchen working on dinner and keeping a careful eye on Inuvik through the window.

"Need help?" Benny asks.

"You bet, kiddo. Wanna set the table?"

"Okay." He sets to work methodically counting silverware, then pauses. "What's for dinner?"

"Salad, then roast beef."

"Okay. Don't need spoons, then." He puts the spoons back in the top drawer, closes it, then reaches into the second for the salad utensils. He arranges everything on the table, then comes back for bowls, plates, and napkins.

I take a moment to check on the roast and when I turn my attention back to Benny, he's in the pantry pulling out oil and vinegar. Then, he goes to the fridge and gets the Parmesan cheese Sarah grated the night before. Like a chemist he carefully measures out portions of oil and vinegar, pouring them into a bottle with the help of a funnel. He then adds a generous portion of cheese, followed by a bit of salt and pepper. He caps the bottle and shakes it energetically. "There!" he says, just like every time he makes the dressing. I bet he's not the first person to have invented olive oil and Parmesan cheese dressing, but I'm still impressed.

Sarah gets home a few minutes later. She kisses me first, on the lips, then Benny on the cheek, then she goes out to the yard to greet Inuvik and let her know that dinner's just about done.

I love my family.

***

Benny and I do the dishes after dinner so Sarah and Inuvik can spend some mother-daughter time together. Benny always washes. I don't mind. If he likes scrubbing pots, that's more than fine with me. He does a good job, too. After, since Sarah and Inuvik are still busy, Benny pulls out a deck of cards and we play Go Fish. I beat him and he pretends to be mad. Then he bursts into a grin and tells me he loves me. I tell him I love him, too. We play another round while Sarah gives Inuvik her bath, then it's Benny's turn in the bathroom.

Benny loves his bath time. He'd play with his rubber duckie for hours if I let him. But I convince him to get out after a half hour. Once he's dried off and in his pajamas, he joins Sarah, Inuvik, and me in Inuvik's room for story time. Tonight, it's his choice and we read three chapters of "Danny, the Champion of the World". Roald Dahl is his hero of late, or so it seems.

***

The next day is Monday, so Benny and I have to go to work. He works at a small accounting firm downtown. He sits in a back room with a decent view and types, files, and fields simple phone calls. I'm really proud of him. He even goes to work by himself, and every Tuesday he goes to the bank on his own to deposit his pay cheque and take out his week's allowance.

I finish early, so I go to pick him up. His boss is on the phone, so she just waves and points to the general direction of Benny's office. He's on the phone, too. "I just *can't*," he says. He pauses for just an instant to look down at a book on his desk. "Because Mrs. Sheridan is seeing *Mr. Cox* at nine on Wednesday. No, I can't ask Mr. Cox to move. He has an *appointment* at nine. No, I'm not an idiot, Ms. Goldin. How about ten?"

I'm very impressed. He reminds me a lot of the other Mountie he used to work with, Turnbull.

Benny hangs up with an exasperated sigh. He pencils something into his appointment calendar, then realises he's not alone any more. He looks up and when he sees me all trace of exasperation flees. "Ray!" he says, bursting into a grin. "How come you're here?"

"I finished early and thought you might like to ride home in the car. Sounds like you're pretty busy, though."

He shakes his head. "I'm all done. I would have been done before, but Ms. Goldin is an idiot."

"Benny!" I admonish him. "What if Mrs. Sheridan heard you say that?"

"She thinks Ms. Goldin is an idiot, too." I shake my head. Benny takes a minute to clear his desk and put something into the filing cabinet, then he grabs his coat. "How was your day, Ray?"

"Just did paperwork."

"Oh. I like paperwork."

I smile. "I know you do. What are you doing after work?"

He makes a face. "I have to play dress up with Inuvik. I promised."

"Well, that sounds like fun."

"Except that I have to wear a *dress*!"

Benny works at an office and wears a suit and tie on the job, but the mathematical data he inputs every day and the letters full of technical jargon he types up are meaningless to him. His job is just another form of play. He does his job well because he's always taken pride in his work, but he has no idea of what can happen if he makes a mistake. I think his boss is an extraordinary woman for taking him on. When I saw the ad in the paper for the job eight years ago, I made Benny type up a few things for me, dressed him up in a suit, and took him to the office. I'd been trying for a year and a half to get someone to take Benny on as something of a secretary, but no one would give him a chance. Except for Sue Sheridan. She put him to work right away, for a two week trial, and by the next Friday he had his own office, computer, and he was answering the phone, too. He's thrived at Sheridan Accounting and I know he has a job for life that will never bore him.

Sheridan's still on the phone when Benny and I cross the reception area and she waves us off. But she takes the time to mouth "Thanks, Benny!" before we go.

***

"So, Benny, what did you do today?" Sarah asks that night as she dishes up portions of macaroni and cheese.

"Typed," he says after swallowing a bite of salad.

"Typed what, honey?"

He shakes his head. "Dunno. The words were *this* long." He estimates the length using his fingers.

"That long, uh?" Sarah says. "Well, you have a very important job."

He shrugs. "I like paperwork."

"Well *I* learned to write `constitution' today," Inuvik says, and her tone worries me.

I phrase my response carefully, so she'll know I'm proud of her, too. "That's great! How do you spell it?"

She spells it out slowly, then turns to Benny. "Betcha you can't spell that."

He frowns for a moment as he tries to figure out how to respond. "No. But I can type it!" Then he turns to Sarah and says, "Sarah, what's `constitution' mean?"

Inuvik interjects. "Don't worry, Mommy, I can tell Benny what it means while we're playing dress up.

That night, I hear fragments of conversation come from Inuvik's room and I hear things like "Washington" and "a long, long time ago" and "the English were *mean*". I know Benny has no idea what the hell Inuvik's talking about, and that Inuvik knows that, but I think that it says a lot that she tries so hard to help him make sense of the world.

I'm very proud of my daughter.

***

When Sarah was pregnant with Inuvik, Benny wasn't too sure about the whole idea. He felt somewhat neglected, and fell into old habits, like wetting his bed and trying to eat his food with his hands. Sarah and I had to spend a lot of quality time with him during Sarah's pregnancy.

That all changed the day we brought Inuvik home. Sarah made Benny sit on the couch, then she put our two day old daughter in his arms. Benny's eyes just lit up, it was love at first sight. I lost count of the number of times he rocked her to sleep with a nonsense song, or volunteered to change her diapers. Benny should have been Inuvik's uncle, but he wound up being her big brother for a time. It won't be long before she's his big sister. Whatever their bond, I know now that they're always going to be close.

***

If someone had told me ten years ago that this would be my life today, I would have stared blankly at them. But, today, I can't imagine my life any other way. I have Sarah, and we have Inuvik, because of Benny's accident. Nobody'll convince me otherwise. I have the serenity, now, to accept the things I cannot change, like Benny's brain damage. I also have the strength to change the things I can, like how I handle Benny's condition. Most importantly, I have the wisdom to know the difference between what I can and cannot change. And I have Benny and Sarah and Inuvik and a life that's so complete and rich I don't have time anymore to mourn for what `could have been', because I'm too busy enjoying what is.