Flow

He said nothing, wondering what she meant exactly.

"Another thing, Grain. I'll be Amelia Taylor again in a few weeks. If you're not going to start calling me Amelia now, you better start when the divorce is final."

He raised an eyebrow in response, smiling at that feigned stern tone she put on for him sometimes.

His expression made her laugh. "I mean it!" She said loudly.

"Yeah, yeah... we'll see," He mumbled before turning around and starting to pack, listening to her laughter and feeling for the first time in several days that things were going to be just fine.

.....

"Okay. That's the fourth time your phone's gone off. Why don't you just read them?"

"I will. After the film," Grain told her, still staring at the TV. It was his second year of university and he was back home for a break, watching a film at Amelia's. She looked beautiful in just a pair of three quarter length jeans and a loose t-shirt. She was sitting on the two seater sofa, her back against the arm and her legs folded up next to him, so she was facing him more than the TV. In her right hand, she held a glass of wine.

"But I want to know what she's saying!"

"She?"

"It IS her, isn't it? I don't know of any boys who would text this often."

"I haven't looked at my phone, so I have no idea."

"So look!" She pleaded.

"Mrs. Lewis, I promise after the film, I will even let you read them out to me."

Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. "You lie."

He flashed a smile and pointed at the TV screen. "It's nearly finished."

She sighed. "Fine, fine. Pardon me for being excited about the fact you have this potential first girlfriend who's obviously into you. I just do not understand your behaviour."

"We're watching a film together," Grain told her. "I'd like to at least finish doing that before I do anything else."

"You'll let me read them, after?"

"You have my word."

But Amelia didn't wait that long. Fifteen minutes before the end of the film, she said, "Can I read them now?"

"It's nearly finished!"

"Grain, with all due respect, you're twenty years old and your priorities are messed up. There is potentially a girl who wants to jump you, right now trying to communicate with you and you're sitting here with an old woman, watching a film both of us have seen before. And you're ignoring her texts."

He laughed suddenly. "Jump me? No, no. It's not like that with me and Clarice."

"But you do like her."

Grain shrugged deeply. "I don't know!"

"She was one of the first things you mentioned tonight when we were having dinner! It's the first time I've heard you even talk about girls. I think it's obvious."

"I've spoken about girls before!"

"Mila Kunis doesn't count. Neither does Leelee Sobieski. Or that porn model you like so much."

"She doesn't do porn. I don't think. Just... sometimes... racy pictures."

"Whatever. The point is this; it's different this time!" He was about to answer that, but she interrupted with, "You know it is. Don't dare deny it."

"I don't see why it's so important."

She shrugged. "Because I think you need someone to bring you out of your shell. And... I mean it's a potential relationship. Doesn't that excite you?"

Grain, who by now had lost interest in the film, looked at her. He wasn't sure what he felt about the prospect of it. "I don't know."

She pursed her lips momentarily and said, "Really?"

He shrugged his usual small shrug.

"Why not?"

Because everyone else seemed to pale in comparison to Amelia. It was at this point in his life he knew he had feelings he could never act on, but with the simple act of denial, this was no problem. His feelings just did not exist. "How can I know why I don't know something?"

"We'll make this easy then. Tell me about her. Talk to me about her."

"And that will achieve what, exactly?"

"Just tell me about her, go on," She urged him, though a part of her was beginning to feel this conversation was perhaps taking a turn she would not quite be comfortable with.

"We met during one of our seminars. She's very pretty. We're good friends. We hang out a lot together. That's it."

"Really? No. That's not just it. I know you. You wouldn't notice someone unless they stood out from others in some way."

He knew exactly why he had become good friends with Clarice. It was one of those things he rarely spoke about. He could not deny, however, that he had been wanting to tell Amelia about it, ever since the night of her birthday, three years before. In some sense, he almost felt she deserved to know, because she was easily one of his closest friends, though he would never tell her that.

"Grain? What are you thinking?"

"She's an orphan. Like me."

The expression on Amelia's face became serious. "Oh." She took a gulp of wine and nodded. "Okay, I guess then... we'll not talk about this?"

Now the serious expression had uncertainty all over it. Inwardly, he smiled at her honest question.

"Sorry, Grain, I didn't know. Oh, I feel awkward now."

"Why?"

"Because I know how much you don't like talking about your parents. And I've been pushing you about this. I just wanted to know more about her."

"It's okay," Grain said. Then he took a deep breath. "She helped me through some issues I had."

"Yeah? That's good."

"Yes. Uh. I mean, her parents died in a different way and she barely remembers her father, but it kind of helped to talk about it with someone else who knew what it was like. Even if the circumstances were different."

Amazed that he was still talking about it, she decided the best thing to do would be to stay quiet and listen, in case she inadvertently made him feel uncomfortable again.

"Actually, there is something I've been meaning to say since I got here. I wanted to say sorry about all the times I kind of got weird about my parents. I know I could be a little abrasive when the subject came up."

"Grain... It's fine. Honestly. You were never anything but polite. Abrasive doesn't even come into it."

"If you're sure. I always felt kind of... well, inside. You know?"

"If you did, it never showed. I just figured if you ever wanted to talk, you would. I know I brought it up a few times. I was just worried." She sat up properly.

"About?"

"It's just... Wait, are you okay with me talking about this?"

He nodded.

"Right. Look, I just worried because I thought it was unhealthy to keep it in," She stopped when he saw him raise his eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, kettle, pot, black. I know. I'm not exactly a good follower of talking stuff out but I do try now, don't I?"

"Yeah."

"I guess it had to be the right time for you too. And the right person," She added quietly.

He frowned. She seemed a little sad all of a sudden. As a joke he asked, "You're not jealous, are you?"

However, she gave him a serious look and said "Would it be strange if I said I was, a little?"

That was so unexpected he didn't know how to answer and he looked at his hands resting on his lap. A moment or two later he turned his body toward her a little. The film was more or less at an end, and he couldn't help but glance at it once or twice, before looking at her.

"I kind of always blamed myself for my mother dying," He said in his low voice.

"What? Why?"

He broke off eye contact and was quiet for a few seconds. Then he answered, "Because my mother always had problems with her mood. Serious bouts of depression. She was kind of stable, but when I was born, she had post-natal depression. Very bad post-natal depression. And I think in some ways it kind of just triggered off those bouts again and she never really shook it off. The night she died, I was nine. She tried to kill herself when I was out. My father came home and found her unconscious. He panicked. He didn't even think to phone an ambulance. He just rushed to get her in the car and drove as fast as he could. On the way, he- the car, it was in a serious accident. They both died."

Amelia leaned forward very slightly, looking as though she was going to cry. She reached out with one hand and took his hand, loosely curling her fingers around his. "Oh, Grain... But you do realise that it wasn't, don't you?"

"Oh, I know. I mean. Logically I knew, you know? But emotionally... I don't know. I just kind of always thought if I hadn't been born, then she never would've had that trigger."

"You don't know that."

He smiled and nodded in agreement. "Clarice kind of helped me see that. Or at least, she just kind of helped me let go of it." He took his hands from her fingers, finding the touch too intense.

She glanced at his hand while it moved away, feeling a moment of emotion she couldn't quite identify. "All these years, you've had that on your mind?"

"Sort of. I guess. I found out about what happened and her post-natal depression during the funeral. Grandma was talking to one of my aunts and they didn't realise I was there. Then I guess the next few months after that I kind of started looking at it that way. I just couldn't talk about it to anyone. I don't know why. After a while I guess it seemed easier not to."

"Gets easier to just deny."

"Right."

"... Thanks for telling me. I'm glad you can talk to me about it."

"Yeah. Well. Like you said, had to be the right time."

"And the right person. If Clarice could have this impact on you... I mean she's obviously a very good friend."

"She is. But that's just it. I think she is interested, but I can't look past seeing her a friend. I just can't."

She thought about that for a moment. "Can I say something here? It might not be something you want to hear."

"Go on."

"I always thought that maybe, the last few years, the fact you've never quite gone for a relationship, that maybe it was because of your parents dying when you were young. That it's just given you this fear."

He was very focused on his hands by the end of that, having already guessed what she was going to say as she was saying it. He nodded. "It's plausible, I suppose."

"You know, if she's this good for you as a friend, then imagine what it could be like if she was your girlfriend," Amelia said. "But I guess if you're not interested, then you're not interested. You can't force it."

"No. I guess I can't."

"I hope you get to that point soon. Being with someone, I mean. If anything, I bet getting laid would break that shell of yours."

A short laugh emitted from Grain as he looked at her in the face.

"You laugh, but it does work for a lot of people. Trust me."

He nodded, "I'm sure it does."

"Well. A time for everything. You're a gorgeous person, outside and inside. It won't be long, I'm sure of it." He gave her that dismissive look of disbelief coupled with humour that always made her narrow her eyes at him and stick her tongue out for good measure. "Now. Are you going to let me read the texts?"

"No. You didn't wait until the film was finished."

"Grain! You can't do that."

But he was already reaching for his phone and handed it to her.

She unlocked it, and pressed the button to read the new messages for that evening. "Oh. First two are from someone wanting to know about work to be done. Typical student. Third one is something about a party-"

"-Oh yeah, I already told him I wasn't interested-"

"-Ah, okay, and.... Ah! Oh. Grain!"

"What?"

"It's Clarice. And if I'm correct, she's basically asking you out."

"Really?"

She nodded. Strangely enough, given her previous enthusiasm for the idea, he expected her to be more excited about it, but now it was almost as if she was treating it as matter of fact. She looked at him, a slight smile on her lips. "What shall I reply?"

He didn't answer. He put his hand out to take the phone back. She gave it to him with a roll of her eyes. Grain glanced at the message, feeling a rush to the head, his body feeling hotter and his heart race, but instead of replying, he locked the phone and put it back in his pocket. Not here and not now. Not with her sitting there.

"Grain!"

"I'll think about it."

"Hmm. Fine then."

He flashed a grin and looked away toward the TV again, all the while his thoughts on her; Amelia.

.....

It took several trips to move everything to her new flat, but she was fully moved in after a couple of weeks. The flat was cosy, warm and had big windows that let in lots of light. There was a bathroom, a bedroom, a kitchen and a living room. It didn't take long for Grain to see Amelia stamp her personality on the place, most noticeably with the piles of books she had, which seemed even more numerous now that she had less space. He suggested perhaps giving some of them away to the local library, but she vehemently shook her head and said she could not think of even parting with any of them. He understood.

From that point on, there was a sense of routine that settled into their lives. Amelia would get home fairly early most days, and Grain, who had taken up a temporary job as a waiter for a cafe owned by one of his aunts, would usually work afternoon shifts and then stop by at Amelia's flat on his way home, when he knew she would be home.

Sooner than both of them had expected, Amelia's divorce became final. Grain remembered that day well. Amelia spent the day feeling relieved and yet saddened by the end of that part of her life. Whichever way she saw it, she had spent a huge portion of her life with the one man and it felt like she had lost a part of herself, at least initially. With a little time, she felt better and carried on with her current life, this time with a conviction and motivation that Grain had not seen in her before. Terry Lewis had decided in anger several weeks before that he wanted nothing more to do with her, and Amelia had hoped he would change his mind and that things would be amiable between them, but after several weeks, she found herself letting go of that idea more easily than she expected.

Several months after she moved into the flat, Grain went through his usual routine. On his way home from work, he decided to stop over at Amelia's for a while, rapping on the door with his usual knock so she would know it was him. He wasn't sure when he actually felt things were different today. Perhaps when she opened the door with that warm smile on her face, still dressed in her work clothes, a white blouse and a tight pencil skirt; one of his favourite outfits on her. Or perhaps it was when he went in and realised that despite the failing light outside, her flat was dimly lit, though the TV was on and so was the radio in the kitchen.

"Have you eaten, Grain?"

"A little bit. I'm not very hungry."

"Well we can maybe order something later. It's Friday night, and I am feeling good."

"TGIF, hmm?"

"Definitely. You working tomorrow?"

"No. Day off."

"I took the next week off."

"Really? Why?" Grain asked in surprise. She always went to and came back from work with enthusiasm.

"Felt like it."

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him and walking up to him, said, "I'm fine."

Feeling nervous at the proximity, he glanced around her living room. On the side table next to the sofa was a book next to the lamp. She had been reading.

"It's a great book so far," Amelia said.

"New one?"

"No, an old one that I found. I realised I hadn't read it."

"Rare for you."

"Do you want to watch a film? Unless you haven't got any time for one or...?"

He looked at her and suddenly realised what was different. She was nervous. She was doing very well with hiding it, it was just the tiny uncertain movement of her eyebrows that gave it away. He chose not to ask about it. If she felt it was right to, she would eventually talk about it.

He nodded. "I've got time. I didn't have any plans or anything, and Grandma said something about going over to my aunt's this weekend."

She nodded once and said, "Good. I think I should just get changed. Well, showered and changed. You'll be okay by yourself for a bit?"

"Of course," Grain said, moving to the sofa and picking up the book.

"Do you need to shower or anything?"

"No. I showered at work before I came. Aunt Nadya has this weird thing about me having to look my best when going home. Maybe she thinks I'll die or something and doesn't want me to be caught out looking disgusting for the ambulance or the public."

She giggled and walked out of the room. "I'll be back in a few!"

Right after she showered, she looked in the mirror at herself, wondering what it was she going to wear. Despite having thought about it all day, her mind was indecisive about all the details of how she was going to go through with her plans. There was a tiny moment of guilt that she dismissed easily. She wanted this. She knew she did. The last several months, perhaps far more than that, she knew how much she enjoyed being around him, more than she thought was right. That didn't matter any more. It was her life and it was up to her what she wanted to do. And what she wanted to do now, was act on her feelings and... see what happened.

No more planning. Just flow.

Looking herself up and down, she fervently hoped he would find nothing wrong with her appearance, though deep down she knew she was thinking about silly little things that didn't matter really. She looked great. Sighing, she dried off her body a little more and walked into her bedroom, noting that he was probably watching the TV, or maybe he had already began reading through the book out of curiosity. She hoped it was that. The book was about a young man and an older woman. She smiled to herself, thinking of how stupid it seemed all of a sudden; the idea of putting that book there to make him think about the situation. Surely if he felt the same, he would need nothing like that to put the idea into his head.

And she was nearly certain that he did. Over the years, all she had seen was tenderness and caring from him. That and more, and his growing up into a handsome man who even now did what he could for her, and looked after her when she needed it, was there for her whenever, and ultimately was the one human being in this world she now could not imagine not having in her life.

On the bed was a choice of two dresses. An old dark blue one that she kept for wearing around the house occasionally, which sort of clung to her curves in places and moved with her body. The other was a new dress she had bought recently. Just for him. She hadn't tried it on yet. As quickly as she could but with composure, she put on the new dress and looked in her full length mirror. It looked beautiful on her. It hugged her figure, showed off a reasonable amount of cleavage and went down to her knees. She looked at the blue cotton dress on the bed. That was more her. Not this new one. And she had worn the blue one around him before, and unless it was her imagination, she was sure he would often glance at her when she wore it. She changed again, and then looked at the door leading to the living room.

Just flow.

When she came back, he was sitting on the floor with his back to the sofa and staring at the TV. He looked up at her in surprise and made sure not to keep staring. That blue dress happened to be his favourite. She slumped down on the sofa, on the opposite side.

"Are you okay on the floor?"

"Yep."

"So what's on TV?"

He looked at her, or more accurately, found himself glancing at her legs. They were bare up to her mid-thigh as she had them folded nearly underneath her. "Not sure. A film just started. Something horror. Whatever it is, so far it's just making me want to watch The Island Of Dr. Moreau."

"Oh that was a horrible film!"

"No it wasn't! Well. Actually it was. Or maybe it depends."

"On?"

"Which version you saw."

"There was more than one of that travesty?"

Grain laughed. "Do you remember the actor in the version you saw?"