Amelia Then And Now

I held it up and shrugged, "It wasn't mailed?"

Selby shook his head. "It was here when I came in for my shift. The morning guy must have received it" he said, "Probably someone just dropped it off."

I thanked Selby, wished him a Merry Christmas, gathered up my things and headed for the elevators.

As soon as I entered my apartment, I dropped everything to the floor. I still was looking at the curious package as I slipped off my coat, kicked off my shoes and shuffled over to the sofa. With a heavy sigh I sat down. The package sat on my lap. After staring at it for a long time, I simply tore off the brown wrapper. It was a book, a memory album to be exact. The cover was slightly worn and weathered, the green colour fading and the gold leaf flaking off. The spine was creased and the cover was warped, the thin book overstuffed with material.

I opened it up. The first page was blank save for a single sentence in the centre of it: "He was always there."

The next page had one photo. My eyes widened and my jaw shifted when I saw it. I stared at the picture that was overexposed, the flash having gone off too close to the faces in the photo. It was angled in a peculiar way and everything was slightly blurry. There were only two people in the photo. The man had a patchy red complexion, eyes frozen in a moment that made him look like he were drunk and his mouth was open like he was in the middle of saying something. The girl, brunette and sparkling wide-eyes, had a blue-ribbon smile that beamed delight and contentment.

It was an odd picture of an odd couple. I stared hard at it. Then I smirked. They fit. Somehow they fit together.

The next few pages were filled with photos of myself. I don't know when they were all taken but it was obvious that some had been cropped and blown up to focus on me. There were also movie stubs, restaurant receipts, a couple of birthday cards, print outs from email exchanges, on and on.

I kept turning pages. There wasn't anything else on my mind except for the book. On one of the last pages there were several empty Hershey Kiss wrappers stuck on haphazardly around the words "Christmas 2000". The page behind that one really made me smile. It was a sheet of paper with the music and lyrics to "The Christmas Song" printed on it. There were little notes scribbled throughout the sheet, like someone was trying to write down the keys to the tune.

I reached the end of the book. Again, the last page was blank except for the sentence, "He will always be here." I immediately flipped it back to the front and looked all of it over again, taking my time doing so. I would look at a picture then raise my head and stare at the wall, placing myself in the memory of each moment so vividly that I could recall where she was standing, watching me. If it had been anyone else, the thoughts would have made me feel uneasy. Instead, I felt warm inside.

I fell asleep on the sofa with the book in my lap.

Waking up a few hours later, I felt its weight in my lap and was oddly comforted by it. I finally closed it. As I stretched I noticed a small post-it note stuck to the back cover. It had a phone number written on it. It also had the words, "3 more days" underlined.

I leaned my head back and thumped it against the wall, eyes closed. All I could see was her. My heart beat faster and my body ached. It was telling me what it needed and wanted and it demanded to be heard.

"Dammit," I mumbled. I stood up, then with the book in hand, I threw on my coat, grabbed my car keys and headed out the door.

*********

I had driven around aimlessly for almost an hour. The streets were dark and empty. It was 2 a.m. Christmas morning. Not too many people on the roads except those making a beeline to be somewhere when everyone else woke up for Christmas . I wasn't sure where I was supposed to be. The crisp winter air wasn't helping to clear my mind.

I drove through residential streets, the constant twist and turns keeping me alert. But finally something in my head said enough already and I pulled over to a curb and switched off the engine.

I rubbed my eyes and thought for a moment. Finally I pulled out my cell phone and dialled.

"Hello?" a soft voice answered. It was sleepy but still had a gentle melody to it.

"Amelia," I managed to push her name through my lips. I hesitated then said, "It's Patrick."

"Patrick..." she said, her voice stronger yet still hushed. She whispered, "Is everything okay?"

No it wasn't okay, I thought. My head was swirling and my heart was beating like a drum. I stammered, "I-I have something for you."

There was a pause on the line, then she said, "Where are you?"

I looked around and instantly knew where I had parked. I should have been surprised but I wasn't. "I'm outside of your house," I said.

"Outside...?" her voice trailed off.

I looked at her house, up to the second floor. I saw some blinds shift in one of the windows, a petite silhouette peeking out. She waved.

"Can we talk?" I asked.

"Um...come around to the backyard," she said adding, "I'll be out in a minute."

I didn't know what I was doing, sneaking quietly through the backyard gate in the middle of the night to see a young woman who had been causing my mind to do mental flip flops for the last 4 days. But my heart was beating faster, blood rushing through me adding to the heady confusion and undeniable anticipation. I waited anxiously in the large open yard in the back, feeling conspicuous with the bag I had brought along, stepping around her family's pool. The moonlight reflected off the light snow on the ground, casting a ghostly glow on everything.

I turned quickly when I heard the back door creak open. Amelia stepped out. She was still in her pyjamas having just thrown on a coat and a scarf and slipped into a pair of boots.

"Amelia," I whispered, "I'm sorry..."

"Shh," she hushed. She walked silently past me to the pool house at the very back of the yard. She waved back at me to follow.

She flicked on a light switch as we entered. As I checked out the room, I was surprised to note how spacious it was. It was more like a little cottage. And it was actually really well kept. The floor was tiled and clean, everything was stored in sealed plastic boxes, and a large wooden futon patio chair sat off to the side. I had a small 5 by 5 storage locker back at the apartment and it looked like a slaughterhouse compared to this place. It was surprisingly warm and well insulated as well. We both opened up our jackets and took off our scarves and gloves.

As I looked around the room, Amelia pulled out two iron patio chairs and sat them across from one another in the middle of the room. She sat down and waited for me to join her. She had a bemused look on her face but with us facing each other like that almost directly under the ceiling light, it felt like we were doing an interrogation.

I cleared my throat and spoke first, "I'm sorry about this. This is kind of weird, huh?"

She shook her head and smiled.

"I, uh..." I didn't know exactly what I wanted to say. But she just waited patiently for me to get my words out. Finally, I reached into my bag and pulled out the memory book. I said, "I brought you this."

She took it from me. With a gentle hand she stroked the cover, gazing at it as if it were some small treasure.

"You brought it back," she said, then looked up at me smiling, "Thanks."

"Yeah well," I remarked, "It really wasn't meant as a gift for me right? It's yours."

She looked a bit sheepish and said, "I wanted you to see it. I was hoping you'd return it. I was hoping you'd bring it back in person."

I nodded, "It's, um, no problem."

She leaned forward with a bit of a sparkle in her eye and asked, "So, what did you think?"

"Well," I said thoughtfully, "I didn't realize you were a stalker all these years."

She laughed softly then said, "You're a hard person to get a clear photo of, you know? You're like Big Foot."

"That's me," I chuckled, "Mysterious and elusive."

"Elusive maybe," she said whimsically, "But not so mysterious."

The unease settled within me again. She just gazed those dark maple brown eyes at me and all my facades faded away. I had always felt somehow exposed to her.

I shook my head and began to ask earnestly, "Amelia. Why-?"

She got up from her chair and began to walk around the room.

"When you interviewed me 8 years ago, I had interviews for two other jobs, one before and one after." She moved around the room as she spoke picking up objects, looking at them, putting them down. She looked up in the air and laughed softly, "I was sooo nervous in both of them. I don't know why. One was even for a fast food place. I think if I had just repeated my name over and over again I would have gotten the job! But I couldn't even talk. I remembered I wanted to scream and cry and run out on both of them."

I stared at her as she told me this. This wasn't the bright, confident, sassy girl I had always known. I could hardly believe she was talking about herself.

"But not with you, Patrick," she turned to me and smiled, "I came into the interview room. There you were fumbling with a bunch of pencils. And of course your collar was a mess. You're going to hate me for this but all through the interview I was thinking about how much I wanted to reach over and just fix it already!"

I chuckled quietly, shaking my head.

"It didn't feel like I was being interviewed. I felt like I was talking to you, with you. I felt at ease," Amelia continued, "And ever since then, I've always felt at ease with you."

As I listened to her, I couldn't help but hear a tinge of sadness in her voice. In all the time that I knew Amelia, I always saw her as the happy-go-lucky girl with the plucky attitude. She always seemed ready to take on the world and it, in turn, was laid out before her. And I was blinded by that youthful exuberance. For all of my notions about 'protecting' her, I never really did stop to consider the tell-tale signs of someone seeking to fill a void in their life.

She looked back at me and then said, "You were the one constantly good and true thing in my life, do you understand?"

Yes I did. I understood because she was the same for me.

I sat quietly, stunned, as she sat back down in front of me. She pulled her chair closer.

"Patrick, I'm sorry," she said with her gentle tone of voice, "I'm sorry about the other day, jumping on you like that with those silly questions about the two of us going out. I must have seemed like a school girl with a crush. Actually, it was a crush when I was 16."

I could see her words as she spoke. They floated in the air towards me then stuck onto my head and body before slowly being absorbed. It didn't make sense. My mind was telling me I was certain I wasn't understanding her words properly. Then I felt her tender and warm hands on top of mine.

"But I realized, year after year, it was more than that," she went on, "I wanted to give you everything I had. I wanted to see you happy, because I knew that would make me feel good inside."

I looked down, frowning hard.

She leaned forward, lowering and tilting her head, making sure I could see her face from the corner of my eye. She said, "I wanted to be with you, Patrick."

Her words were so fluid, spoken with a deliberate ease. It was intoxicating. But they didn't match with the image I had of a young wide-eyed teen whom I wanted to keep safe and protect. My head hurt and my heart raced as I struggled with this conflict.

"I still..." she took a deep hesitant breath then said, "I still want to be with you."

She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. She was still very warm and I sensed the slightest tremble in her touch.

I shut my eyes. I still saw her on the ice all those years ago singing so sweetly, so innocently. I couldn't think of her in any other way.

"Amelia, I...," I said, my breaths shallow and unsteady, "I, uh, don't think I can do this."

Her hand didn't move. I opened my eyes and looked at her. I swallowed then added, "You'll be gone in a couple of days. Why would we want to do this to one another?"

Amelia always had the answers to my doubts. She said, "Because I'd like to make one last memory of us, something that I can bring with me. I want to see you happy. I want to make you happy."

Images from the past raced through my head and crashed with the deep, dark yearnings I held in my heart for her now, thoughts I had never allowed myself to have.

She caressed my hand.

I pulled it away.

"I'm sorry Amelia," I said my voice cracking as I pushed out my words, "I can't."

I stood up from the chair. My stomach ached as I looked at the young woman seated in front of me. I shook my head, "I can't."

Her face, smooth skinned and rosy cheeked, didn't show any sign of hurt or concern. Her red lips still had a soft smile on them. And her eyes were just pulling me in, holding me tight, as she gazed up at me.

"Well then," she said as she stood up, "Can we just do one thing together? One kiss?"

A hard wind had picked up outside. The windows to the pool house rattled slightly but it was still very warm inside. I didn't say yes, but I didn't say no either. I just stood there. My mouth parted as if to say something but there was little left to be spoken.

Amelia stepped forward a little. She placed both of her hands barely against my chest as she pushed herself up onto her toes. Her eyes closed as she moved towards me. I watched as her lips parted slightly just before she touched them against mine. She didn't press them though, just brushing the outer parts of our lips together, up and down side to side, running her bottom lip against the top of mine then vice versa with her top lip. She exhaled deeply and I breathed in her warm air. Like I said, it was intoxicating. Finally she pressed her mouth up against mine, our lips coming together fully. I closed my eyes. I could still see her clearly and listened to her breathe deeply. Her head lolled ever so slowly, pushing her soft lifts against mine, as she guided me in the kiss.

I felt a quiver on her lips and I'm certain she felt the same on mine. It sent a tingle through to my core, melting my mind before setting my heart on fire.

And from deep within me, surging up and busting through all of my mental gates, was a wave of passion and longing that would no longer be denied.

In spite of everything I had thought and said, I slipped my hands under her coat and wrapped them around her back, pulling her petite frame close to mine. Her hand did the same, sliding under my heavy jacket and holding tight at my back. Both of us breathing heavily now, I pushed forward, supporting her as I leaned her back slightly, our unbroken kiss still intensifying. Our lips were still touching as we pulled slightly away to gasp quick breaths from the sides of our mouths before pressing them hard together again, melting and folding them together.

We pulled off one another's jackets, dropping them at our feet.

I felt her hands move to the collar of my shirt. Instead of straightening it out, though, her fingers steadily and deftly started to unbutton it. I did the same. With each little plastic button I managed to push through a hole in her pyjama top, my hands and breaths began to tremble more and more. By the time the last button gave way and her top parted slightly in the middle I was having doubts again. I wasn't sure if I could look at her.

I parted from her kiss, breathing hard through clenched teeth, staring at her feet. Amelia never hesitated though. She placed her hand over my heart on my bare chest. I closed my eyes. She must have felt my heart racing beneath her touch. Her other hand reached down and took mine and slowly lifted it up. Brushing through the part in her pyjama top she placed my palm against her bare bosom, also over her heart. She felt so soft. Then I opened my eyes, a little surprised. I felt her heart beating as rapidly as mine, her chest rise and fall as quickly as mine. She stroked my chest with her finger tips. My palm slipped under her breast, cupping the supple flesh in the palm of my hand, brushing my fingers along a sensitive and stiffening nipple. The ache in my body was still building and my member, which was already stirring during the first kiss, quickly swelled.

We kissed again, holding our bodies close to one another. She pulled off my shirt and I pushed her top over her shoulders and down off her arms. As we moved, her soft breasts dragged tenderly against my chest. I ran my hands down her smooth back. Our lips still locked, I felt her pull open the button of my jeans, then with her palm against my belly, she slid her hand down, pushing the zipper fly open down as she gently stroked my now fully erect piece through my boxers.

I looked up at the ceiling, blinking and groaned, "Oh jeez, Amelia..."

I felt her other hand reach behind my head and pull me back down to resume our kiss. As she tenderly rubbed me up and down with her warm hand, my hands slid down past the small of her back, pushing down on the waistband of her pyjama pants. Emboldened by her kisses and touches, I pushed her pants and underwear down just beneath her bottom. It was smooth and firm and perfect as I massaged the skin of her bare bum. With a little wiggle, her pants and underwear slid down her legs resting on top of her boots.

Amelia broke our kiss now. Her lips moved down to my neck and further down to my chest. She caressed her lips against each of my nipples. Her heated breaths alone made my own breath stutter. Still she moved downward towards my belly. Her hands had a firm grasp of the waist of my jeans and she pulled them down to my ankles as she slid down.

I was breathing so hard now as she rolled my boxers down, the waist band flicking at my erection as it passed over it.

Amelia looked up. Sliding strands of hair back behind her ear, she asked, "Is this okay?"

I couldn't believe what she was asking. I had been telling myself all along since I had committed to this to be gentle with her. Now she was revealing she shared the same concerns about me. Slack-jawed, I nodded unsteadily.

With the utmost care, her delicate hand took hold of me.

"Ah god," I sighed as I felt her take me completely into her warm, moist mouth. Her red lips slipped down over my length. I swallowed and my eyebrows were knitted as I watched her. There was an impossibly relaxed look on her face as her head bobbed back and forth. There were still pangs of disbelief resonating from deep within me. I was still having difficulty accepting this even as she slicked her saliva over me with her lips and tongue. But those concerns never manifested themselves into any words or thoughts to stop her. She was still as beautiful as I always remembered.

I groaned and swallowed and sighed for several minutes as she worked me over in the silence and intimacy of the small pool house. I listened to her own quiet gasps and soft slurps and kisses. The immediate urge of climaxing in her mouth subsided as she moved with a mesmerizing rhythm. Instead, the surge in the rest of my body just slowly began to build and intensify further.

I grasped her hand that was pressed against my thigh and pulled her to her feet. Her mouth lifted from my staff, a spider-web strand of saliva stretching from her lips to my foreskin.

As she stood before me, I ran my hands through her hair, brushing it back. Her deep sparkling eyes looked calm but showed an underlying longing that almost broke my heart. She was still trying to hold onto her smile, but her lips were beginning to quiver.

I caressed her rosy cheeks and ran my finger over her open, waiting lips. I gazed long into her eyes. The Amelia I recalled from eight years ago was still in there, but going deep beyond that image was the face of a mature young woman who had grown up a long time ago despite me never allowing myself to accept that. I didn't know if it was or wasn't the Amelia I was clinging to. I just knew, at that moment, I had only one thought left in my head.