14 comments/ 13303 views/ 5 favorites Amelia Then And Now By: TrueNorth1969 I checked my watch. I had been waiting for her for almost 20 minutes. I smirked and chuckled to myself. No, I've been waiting longer. I was leaning up against the railing overlooking the square. The air was crisp and cool. It felt good to inhale it deep into my lungs. It had been a mild winter so far. They were only able to open the square's outdoor skating rink just a week before Christmas, weeks later than usual. Skaters shuffled or glided along the surface. From where I was standing, I could hear the soft "Shush-shush" sound of steel blades slicing across the icy surface. There were loud, shrill squeals of laughter whenever someone fell onto their butt. Then there was music, the same winter wonderland music that brought to mind holding hands and walking through the snow or cuddling up in front of a cold fire with hot cocoa or rum-spiked totties. 8 years ago it was all the same. The air smelled the same. The sounds were the same. The music never changed. The memory I had of her never changed. "Wow. If you're going to be that deep in thought, you should put out the 'Do Not Disturb' sign!" The voice that spoke to me was, as it always had been, a sweet sing-song voice. The light within me immediately brightened whenever I heard it. "Hey you!" I said turning to her. "Hey yooou!" she replied before she jumped up and hugged me. I held her petite body close. I don't usually do that. I could feel her give me a little extra squeeze as well. She stepped back and looked me over. I did the same. Her name was Amelia. She's a 5-foot-2 sprite of a woman with chestnut brown hair, round cheeks, smooth white-peach coloured skin, and eyes that just swallowed you up and held on till you were filled with her warmth. And she had a smile that put you at ease like a week in the sun. I hadn't seen her in years, and while the hair style may have changed, some of the baby fat had given way, and a refined maturity had settled in her expression, the Amelia I remembered shone through like a beacon. Amelia reached forward and adjusted my jacket collar. "Are you kidding me?" I chuckled, "Will you cut that out already!" "I can't help it," she tittered, "Your collar is always messed up." I brushed her hands away, feigning annoyance. I snorted, "I haven't seen you face-to-face in 4 years and you're going to just fix my collar?" "Well," she pouted her lower lip, "What else would you like me to do for you?" "Ha, ha," I scoffed, "You were the one who called me out tonight, right?" "If that's the way you remember it," she snickered. I smiled at her and said, "It's good to see you again, Amelia." It really was. She had grown up beautifully. "I missed talking with you," she replied, "I'm sorry we stopped talking and emailing." "Ah, it's the usual thing," I said, "You're unable to call for a little while then when you want to, you're embarrassed because it's been so long. Then you make up excuses in your head like thinking the other person is too busy and you're going to sound like a pathetic goof trying to get their attention again." I'm not sure if that was what she was thinking. Mostly, those were my own insecurities rambling on. But she nodded thoughtfully anyhow. We stayed by the railing and caught up a bit. My story was short: I was still working at the library. I was still at the same apartment. I hadn't been in a relationship in over a year. Amelia talked about school, travelling, and her family. She didn't mention her current boyfriend status. Then she threw in a twist. "I'm leaving in a week. I'm going to Australia," she said thoughtfully, "For an internship." I looked at her, "That's great. Australia? Wow. That should be exciting." "Yeah," she smiled, "I hear they have nice people, nice cities, nice weather. Lots of places to escape from things." I cocked my head as I listened to her. Then I shook it as I rolled my eyes. "Hopefully," she shrugged. She shifted her eyes to look out over the square and added, "If it goes well, they'll offer me a permanent job." I nodded slowly, "You'll be staying in Australia then?" She tucked her red lips into her mouth as she looked up at me. She blinked and nodded once. Her expression was thoughtful, her eyes staring straight ahead. There was a long silence between us. I cleared my throat and forced a grin, "What about your singing?" That seemed to lighten her up a bit and she smiled when she answered, "I don't know. Maybe I'll check out Sydney's musical theatre. Or else I can always sing in the shower." We both chuckled. "So you're going around meeting people from your past just one last time to say hello and good-bye?" I asked. "No," she said with a coy smirk on her face, "Just you." "Ah," I said, my standard aloof reply. I had no clue what she was up to. She continued to smile at me, that blooming rose smile of hers. Going against my better judgement, I felt complied to add, "Well, I'm honoured that it was my heart you're choosing to break." That didn't come out quite the way I had intended. "Oh. Am I breaking your heart?" she asked. She spoke without pretensions, a mild mix of amusement, concern and surprise on her face. I spoke quickly, "I mean, uh, we don't see each other for years and then we finally get together just so you can tell me that I'll probably never see you again. I'll miss you." I over-stated my point, "Anyone who knows you would miss you." Amelia lowered her head, burying chin and mouth underneath her scarf. She frowned. "But, I mean," I was tripping over my thoughts now, "We can still email of course. I just mean...well, you were the first person I ever got to hire on my own. I don't know." She was still quiet, shuffling her feet. I smiled and waved my hands in exaggerated circles, "You know me, too sentimental for my own good! My workers are growing up and moving away. It's sad." It was kind of sad. I had hired so many young faces over the years. I replaced so many. Their faces often just blended together. Not Amelia's, though. Lost in thought again, I turned back to the railing and looked at the skating rink. In my mind's eye, I saw only two people on the ice: A small young woman in a beige and pink ski jacket and a taller man in a long winter overcoat. She was laughing and skating circles around him. He was older but seemed less sure on his skates and in his demeanour. But he was also undeniably having fun. Amelia must have been staring at me as I was lost in my imagination again. She joined me, leaning over the railing. Just by doing that she drew me back to the moment. "Why didn't you ever ask me out?" she asked. I tilted my head. I had to think about what she was saying. The usual mental blocks in the back of my head went up, keeping me safe from jumping to embarrassing conclusions. I went for answer B, the safe choice, "What do you mean? We went out lots of times. Remember when we went to see The Fast and the Furious? And we went out to those restaurants almost every month. We even went over to Siobhan's house when Jenny and Lee Soo cooked for all of us." Amelia was smirking and shaking her head while I was talking. I was feeling a bit rattled now. It was becoming clear what she had meant, even if my mind wouldn't allow it. "I mean you and me, Patrick." She made herself absolutely clear, "Not in a group with the other staff. I mean just you and me. We never went out." I stared at her as she looked out across the square. She was still smiling, pulling herself up on the railing. No. We never did go out together. I never asked her out. How could I have? "I-I didn't...I never thought I could..." I mumbled trying to put the words together. I sighed and shrugged, "We sort of went out once, didn't we?" Amelia turned her head. Her fine brows were angled sharply, making her look a bit like a cute elf. Surprised, she asked, "Was that a date?" I shook my head slowly and said, "No. I guess...no, it wasn't." We both returned to gazing out over the rink. After a long pause, Amelia turned to me again and said, "So you never once thought about asking me out?" I was totally confused now. I wasn't sure if she were asking me honestly, if she was being coy, or if she was just being arrogant. I know there were a lot of guys who had asked her out, from work and from her school. She had dated a lot. I looked at her, frowning and my head tilted aside. I said, "Amelia, I'm not sure what you're getting at. I was your supervisor. It wouldn't have been right..." "I quit the library after two years," she replied, her voice was steady and serious. "You were with Stephen and then what's his face...that guy from university?" I said. "Yeah, but not all the time," she answered, "I was with Stephen for less than a year." I hesitated before speaking. The next reason was the hard one, the one hurdle my mind had to clear, to decide if it was safe to speak about. I said, "You were 16. I was, what, 26? I think there would have been a problem." I was sure that reason would end this conversation. Instead Amelia didn't even blink and replied, "I grew up. I turned 18 a long time ago." That was Amelia: When I had doubts, she had the answers. As soon as she spoke, her face relaxed, the brief moment of tension easing. Both of us paused for thought now, letting our exchange sink in. We had both been brief but the layers of what we were saying peeled away fast. We revealed a lot of truths that we both may not have been aware of all this time. She wanted me to ask her out? When? Even after she had left my branch? After she had left the library? After she turned 18? She'd been waiting? And she must have been wondering how long I was actually thinking of her as more than a co-worker. Or was I? Amelia's brown eyes shifted quickly at her feet as she blinked. She had hid her mouth underneath her scarf again. I wasn't quite sure what she was thinking. My heart was beating faster. I had to clear one thing up. "Amelia," though my head hurt I spoke very slowly, "When we worked together, I never thought of you that way." "Because you didn't want to," she said into her scarf, "Or because you weren't allowed to?" I stepped back. She was shifting her weight slowly back and forth from her left foot to her right. Her cheeks that were above her scarf line were bright red. Every once in a while, a gentle breeze pushed aside her brunette hair. Strands fell across her face, covering her eyes. I thought about reaching out to brush them aside, but decided not to. She continued to look down at the ground, pensive and quiet. This wasn't how I wanted to remember her. I had to bring a conclusion to this awkwardness and decided to be straightforward for once about it. "Look, why are you...why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these things now?" I asked. "I'm leaving in a week," she whispered. I barely heard her. "I know that," I said, "That's what started all this, I think. So if you're gone in a week, why did you have to ask me this now?" She inhaled deeply. Her eyes seemed to sparkle again as she looked up, revealing her beaming smile from beneath her scarf . I'm not sure if seeing her like this made me relieved or more anxious. "I'm leaving in a week," she spoke in her sweet, gentle voice, "7 days. I'll be here for 7 days. I leave two days after Christmas. I just wanted to let you know that." She stood there, straight as a pin, just smiling. I opened my mouth to say something but she jumped up and wrapped her arms around me again. She hugged me close. My hands were at my side. "Thank you for everything , Patrick," she said. I was looking away and to the side, overwhelmed with uncertainty. My mouth was still agape and I was lost in a swirl of thoughts. I'm not sure how long she held onto me. I just remember how much warmth came from such a small body. Before I knew it she had let me go and was running away. I'm not even sure if she looked back as she waved. "Amelia," I said softly. By then, she was too far away to hear even if I had shouted. ************** 8 years ago, I hired a new member to the student staff at the library. "This is Amelia Herceg," I had said introducing the diminutive teen to the team of student employees in my department. "Hello everyone," she flashed a round-cheeked smile that seemed to always be flushed with a light pink colour. She added, "Yep. It's the new kid. I know I'm smaller than some of the books but be kind to me!" "Yeah, you guys," I added, "Careful not to step on her when you're pushing your trucks around, okay?" The others instantly warmed to her, possibly even before she had opened her mouth. Amelia had a genuinely welcoming smile, big bright brown eyes that seemed to express excitement and wonderment all the time, and she was small and unimposing. Actually, I'm not that tall either at 5 foot 9 inches but she barely scraped above the 5 foot mark. The height and the undeniable cuteness of this girl, however, didn't detract from her energy and enthusiasm to do a good job. Like a hungry thoroughbred, she immediately took to the work and earned her place as a peer to any of the other staff. She didn't look for protection and she didn't need anymore assistance than anyone else to do her job. She took her work and herself seriously. Maybe that's why she was able to enjoy herself when working. This was good. I had been anxious for a few days after having made my decision to hire her. She was my first hiring. I had inherited the page team when I was made supervisor 5 months prior. I had it in my head that the other department supervisors and my manager would be paying attention to what I was doing, appraising my decisions. When I had called her to offer her the position, I was sort of expecting the elated squeals of a teenage girl. Instead a calm voice came through the receiver, "Thank-you Mr.Santos. That's great. I'm looking forward to starting right away." It was the same calm, sweet voice she spoke with during her interview. I had noticed a slight lilt to it, almost melodic. A couple of weeks later I commented about it to her when she stopped by my desk to say hello for the day. She looked sheepish when she replied. "I sing," she said. "Uh-huh," I nodded, "In the shower?" "Sometimes," she grinned, "No seriously. I've taken voice lessons. I sing at school. I'm hoping I can make it in the school musical." "Nice," I said. I could picture her on the stage. She may have been small but her energy would probably radiate to the back row. I added, "Maybe you could sing for us sometime." "Uhh, no," she grinned, "Don't think so." "You want to sing in front of an auditorium full of people but you won't sing for our department?" I scoffed. Amelia shrugged playfully, "It's not the size of the audience. It's who's in it." Her eyebrows knitted and suddenly she reached towards me. I leaned back slightly in my chair taken aback as her hand seemed to reach for my face. Instead it went past it and down to my neck. I rolled my eyes downward with a puzzled expression. I felt her adjust my collar, pull it out from beneath my shirt and then flatten it out. "Your collar is always a mess," she said. "Um, don't change the subject," I replied. She stood back and crossed her arms. She smirked and said jokingly, "What were we talking about?" An idea came to mind, "Christmas time. It's two months away still." She started to shake her head. "You can sing for us then," I continued. "Uh-uh," she said flatly. "A Christmas carol," I cajoled, "Just one! C'mon the staff will love it!" She clasped her hands behind her back and pivoted on her toe. She high-stepped it towards the staff door, teasing in her tuneful voice as she left, "It's not going to happen!" "I'm your boss!" I snapped. "Oh, okay then," she opened the door and leaned back to face me. Then she stuck out her tongue, "Pft-th-th-th-THT! "You're fired!" I laughed as she shut the door. I think that's when the dithering back-and-forth banter started between Amelia and myself. I had been right about her, Amelia was the glue that got the rest of the student pages to come together as more than coworkers. It's what I had been hoping for. The other supervisors in the other departments didn't place as much emphasis on this part of team building but I took it as a source of pride that they started going out with each other after work to restaurants, to movies, just to hang out. It helped them gel as a unit at work. "Come with us," Amelia said one Saturday afternoon as the library was closing. The pages were going to a restaurant after work. "Eh, no," I answered, "That's alright." "Come on," she insisted, "It'll be fun. We can all see how you are outside of work." "I am what I am," I said mimicking the voice of God from The Ten Commandments. I don't know if she got that reference or not. The fact was, I had been a bit reclusive during that time. I'd go to work then go home. Not much else. She craned her neck around and shouted to the team of pages getting ready to go, "Patrick's coming!" There was a little cheer. "Hey, wait," I sat up in my chair, "I didn't say I was coming!" Amelia marched over to the coat rack and grabbed my jacket. She had a mildly determined and obviously amused look on her face. "Put that down," I warned her. "Up!" she ordered raising her hands. I crossed my arms and, reclining in my chair, smirked at her. The amused look faded. She draped the coat over my head. Momentarily in the dark, I clutched at it. Blinking to clear my eyes, I felt a shove against the back of my chair. Amelia grunted as she tried to tilt me forward. I laughed, "You're going to get a hernia!" "Get out!" she grunted again. The other pages ran around to join her and soon I was stumbling out of my chair. Again there was a cheer. "You're all fired," I said, exasperated. The others made their way out of the door in mock fear. Amelia stayed behind to help me put on my jacket. For some reason, like a little boy being dressed up by his mom, I let her. "That's like the fifth time you've fired me," she said as she did up my zipper. "Yeah, well, you keep coming back," I replied, "You never listen to me." She pursed her lips as she adjusted my collar, "I guess I like it here too much." Amelia looked up at me and smiled, a soft, thoughtful smile. The cool autumn air actually was very refreshing. It cleared my head after a day at work. The others walked ahead of us towards the restaurant. Amelia and I strolled along falling further and further behind them. The group had grown a bit since we left with staff from other departments joining in. A few boyfriends and girlfriends of staff members hooked up with us as well. "Austria?" Amelia asked me. "Not Austria, Australia," I corrected. Our conversation had turned to places we'd like to live. She nodded then scrunched her nose, "Why Australia?" I pursed my lips as I thought then replied, "Well, it seems to have nice people, nice cities, nice weather. I wouldn't have to learn a new language. And I understand you don't have to travel very far to find some beautiful, isolated sites and to just escape things for a while." "That's you, isn't it?" Amelia chided, "Always trying to escape." I grimaced. What was she getting at? No. Actually I didn't want to know. I had learned that Amelia had a way of getting at certain truths that I just not assume hear about. I turned the subject. "Where's Stephen?" I asked Amelia. She shrugged, "Didn't want to come." "You should have shoved him out of his chair," I joked. "So, your boyfriend doesn't show..." "He's not really my boyfriend," she slipped in. "...And yet you're able to drag your boss along," I continued, "What's wrong with me?" Amelia Then And Now She beamed up at me, "Maybe you can't say no to my smile." I felt her brush her arm up against me. I could feel her warmth. I don't know what I was thinking but I instinctively stuffed my hands deeper into my pockets and pressed my arms closer to my body as I walked. There was no room for a hand to push through between. Amelia leaned a little to her side, putting a bit more space between us. I cleared my throat then said, "So you owe me." "Hmm?" she answered whimsically. "For going out with you guys tonight," I said, "You owe me something." "I've got lint in my pocket," she mocked, "You can have that." "Something goooood," I mused. She arched her fine line eyebrow towards me, "What, pray tell, do you want?" I curled my mouth in a crooked shape as I pretended to think hard, "I'm thinking...I'm thinking of a song." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm thinking of a Christmas carol," I teased. Her head shook as she frowned. "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire," I hummed off tune then said, "You know. That one. 'The Christmas Song'." "Auugh!" she groaned and ran off ahead to join the group. During dinner somebody pulled out a camera and everyone immediately designated Amelia the official photographer. Like everything else, she relished the job. "Yeah! Yeah, bambino! Make LOVE to your fettuccine! Twirl that pasta! Whooo!" she spoke in a drippy faux-Italian accent to one of the other diners. Everyone laughed. I don't know how many times I got caught on camera but, despite my best efforts, I saw dozens of little flash ghosts floating across the décor long before dessert came. I disliked having my picture taken. I was always self-conscious of my looks: patchy red complexion, flat nose, short black under-styled hair, and just plain...well, plain. Instinctively before each flash went off, I'd lower my head or look away. Amelia sat next to me and pointed the camera at my face, just inches away. I panicked and immediately put my hand over the lens and pushed it down and away. "Come on!" she exaggerated a girlish whine, "Something for the memory books!" She raised the camera again. Again I pushed it away. I tried to put a serious expression on my face and said firmly "No." Still she raised the camera. I held my hands up in front of the lens, starting to feel annoyed. I snapped, "Hey Amelia. Come on. Stop it..." Amelia lowered the camera to her lap. She looked a bit dejected. Sighing once she said, "I'll sing the song." I raised my eyebrow and remarked, "Yeah?" "One photo," she continued, "And then I'll sing for you guys at Christmas time." I bounced my head back and forth in a slow thoughtful nod for a minute. I shrugged and gave in, "Fine! Fine! Go ahead!" Instantly she broke into her trademark smile. She raised the camera and then quickly turned around and leaned back against me. Before I knew it, she held out the camera, facing it towards us. "Smile!" Click. I think my mouth was in the shape of me saying, "Hey!" I wasn't sure though. I never saw the photo. ********** Christmas time rolled around in the department. Somehow, for whatever reason or reasons, Amelia was able to welch on her promise to sing for us. It was so busy at the library during that time that I didn't have the energy to drag her down and make her perform in front of the staff. As everyone left for the day for a 3 day break for Christmas, I barely had enough energy to hand out my gifts, mugs full of candy, to each of the pages. "Oh nice!" Amelia cooed as she held up her reindeer antler mug, "Mint Hershey's kisses!" She smiled at me. Deep down, I was preparing for a hug. I was thinking that I would make sure it was just an "arm around the back" type of hug. "But what if she gives me a present?" I wondered to myself. I looked around uneasily to see who else was nearby. "Merry Christmas!" she chimed in. Then she waved and ran off to join the group as they exited. No hug. No present. It was actually a relief. I think. **************** Typical of me, I was late with my Christmas shopping and what I did buy earlier in the season I didn't bother to wrap until Christmas Eve. I was in the middle of late night gift wrapping in my apartment when the phone rang. "Hello?" I answered. There was the distorted tinny voice of someone on the intercom in the lobby. The melody in the voice still made it through the static though, "Hello? Patrick? Hel-LOOOO?" "Amelia?" I frowned, "Is that you?" "Yes, it's me!" she chirped, "Can I come up?" I paused listening to the crackling of the line. I looked around my apartment uneasily, rolls of wrapping paper and ribbon strewn across the floor. "Uh...my place is kind of a mess..." "Well, can you come down?" she asked. Again I hesitated but answered slowly, "Ssssure. Is, uh, is there something wrong, Amelia?" "Nope," she said then she hung up. Hanging up, I had one hand on my waist, the other I dragged through my hair as I exhaled a long breath. I was feeling a bit warm and muddled. I stood there for a second trying to think when the phone rang again. What now? "Yeah?" I said. "Bring your skates," Amelia said then hung up once more. We strolled from my apartment to the outdoor skating rink near our library. She never explained why she called me out that night and I didn't ask again. Instead she said, "You're lucky to be able to just walk to work." "That was the idea when I moved there," I said nodding back to the apartment. In a way, the out-of-bed-into-work nature of my life probably played a role in my reclusive way, among other things. I joked, "It also allows me to go for these late night skating escapades." "Cool, huh?" she smiled. "It's after 11 o'clock," I yawned. "That's the cool part." The rink was abandoned. It was late. It was chilly. It was the night before Christmas. Who would be out skating? Most of the lights in the square were off except for a few security lights. And the music was off. Who could skate without music? We put on our skates anyway. I turned the collar of my long heavy coat up as I stepped onto the ice. She zipped her beige and pink ski jacket up right to her chin. Frozen wisps of air drifted from her red lips and her usually rosy cheeks were already turning a deeper red. I had to double up my gloves. Yet still we skated. Actually it was more like Amelia gliding along like a pixie on the ice and me shuffling my feet trying to gain momentum and thinking about my numb ankles. She skated around the rink, doing little spins and turns. She looked completely absorbed in her graceful motions. Every so often, she would look up at me from the other end of the rink and wave, then she went back to her figures. There seemed to be nothing that she did that she didn't excel in. And everything she did, she did so with an unmistakeable relish and glee. She skated over to me and then matched my leisurely pace. With our hands in our pockets, we slowly moved around in circles around the rink. It was so quiet except for our skates on the ice. "So you were wrapping up gifts I guess?" she finally asked. "Yep," I nodded and chuckled, "And because of someone I know, I'm going to be wrapping presents into the wee hours!" She giggled softly and said, "Sorry. It's just that, sometimes, if you gotta skate, you gotta skate!" I eyed her with mock suspicion. "Did you find something nice for your girlfriend?" she suddenly asked. I blinked and tilted my head, "What girlfriend?" "Oh sorry," she said, "I thought you were going out with that person from the second floor." "Carrie?" I looked up at the sky, exaggerating my uncertainty, "Um...no. Not my girlfriend." Carrie had gone out with me twice. I could tell during dinner that she had come out the first time because she wasn't quick enough to come up with an excuse not to go. The second time...I don't know. Trying to make sure she was right about the first time? I just don't know. But I thought we had been discreet about our dates. I didn't ask Amelia how she knew about them. "No connection?" Amelia asked. "Guess not." She pursed her lips as she nodded her head slightly. I though I detected a hint of a smile there. "And what did you get for Stephen?" I asked her. "Wallet," she remarked, "He's always stuffing his money into his pocket and it falls out when he reaches for something." "Very nice," I said. Again she nodded thoughtfully. After another moment she said, "Thanks again for the cute mug. And for the chocolates." "No problem," I answered, "Did you finish them already?" She rolled her eyes, "I couldn't stop myself." "Glutton," I muttered. We both laughed. As we continued to skate, I had a thought in my head that she might pull a present for me from her pocket. Instead, she looked at her watch. "Had enough? Time to go?" I asked. Amelia looked up at me, a broad, twinkling smile on her sweet face. She skated ahead and then spun around and continued to face me, skating backwards. She took a deep breath. "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire..." she began to sing, "Jack Frost nipping at your nose..." I came to an unsteady stop on the ice and just stood and listened. "Yuletide carols being sung by a fire and folks dressed up like Eskimos...." Her voice was...it was so pure. Unbroken like the fallen snow and crisp and strong like the winter wind. I listened to her sing, mesmerized as her voice drifted from lyric to lyric. She continued to skate around me, her angelic voice filling the air surrounding me. She sang the entire song. "And so I'm offering you this simple phrase, for kids from one to ninety-two..." I had a stunned, amazed smile on my face. It was in stark contrast to the confident and calm smile on hers. "Though it's been said, many times, many ways..." She had her hands behind her back as she curled her way back towards me. She skated within half a meter and stopped in front of me. "Merry Christmas...," she sang, "...To you." We stood there facing each other. The wind was doing it's best to send a chill through us. It was failing miserably. "Wow," I breathed, "Very, very nice." I clapped my hands together. Amelia looked like she would blush if her cheeks weren't already a ripe red. She held her hand to her mouth and laughed. "That was great," I applauded her. "Merry Christmas, Patrick," she said and bowed her head slightly. Then she reached towards me. I started to raise my arms. She just flattened out my collar, smiling. As she got into her car and drove away that early Christmas morning, all I could ask to myself was, "Why did she ask me to come out tonight?" ****************** "She seems quite taken with you," Nadja said. Nadja was one of the senior supervisors of the library. We often had lunch together and we talked about pretty much anything. Today, she caught me off guard. "Who?" I asked. "The young one. Short with brunette hair," she said, "Looks a bit like a fairy." "Amelia?" I said quizzically, "Naw." Amelia was sweet to everyone. She was energetic and spirited around everyone. Nadja squinted through her glasses over her sharp nose. I tried to focus on my sandwich. Besides, it had been over a year since we went skating. That was the only time we were ever out alone together. And there was nothing much about that night, anyway. Ever since then, we just did the usual group things. The last Christmas just came and went, uneventful. I bought her a cake for her birthdays but I did that for all of the team. She was just a bit more openly gleeful when she expressed her appreciation. But the older woman seated beside me just continued to squint at me even as I frowned and put down my sandwich. I sat back in my chair and sighed. She was trying to pull some confession out of me but I didn't feel like I had one to offer. "You don't see it?" she asked. I shook my head. Didn't she realize what kind of trouble I would be in if I even suggested something like she was implying? I replied, "No. I don't. I don't know what you're talking about." Nadja sat back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes still planted firmly on me. "Okay. But I'm speaking to you as a friend here, not a co-worker," she said. She placed a hand on my shoulder, "You be careful. That's all I'm going to say." That's all she needed to say. The words were cold. I chewed on my lower lip as I thought about what she was saying. I had been convinced that there was nothing to be worried about between me and Amelia. But Nadja thought she saw something. That thought planted concerns in my head, or maybe drew the ones I already had out into the open. ********** Amelia quit the library less than two years after being hired. She didn't really want to but it was for a reason that was common for many student resignations. "Looking forward to university?" I asked her. "Not really," she sighed as she finished shelving her final book truck, "I really don't know what I'm doing. I'm not sure what I want to major in." "You don't have to decide in first year," I commented, "Take your time. Besides you're good at everything you do." She sighed, "I don't want to quit work either." "Ah, well, it's the circle of life," I smirked, "You'll just be replaced by a younger, faster version." Her face twinkled with shock and mock anger. She gasped, her mouth dropping open and she smacked my arm. "That's so cruel!" she remarked. I laughed as I batted away her light fists. She stopped swatting at me and looked at me thoughtfully. She raised a brow, "You'd better miss me." It sounded more like a threat than a question but I nodded and answered, "You can't be replaced, Amelia." "Good." That seemed to appease her. Amelia left the library that September. It was sad to see her go. The remaining student team was certainly dejected. For myself, a guilty pall hung over me. Somewhere deep in my head, I was relieved to see her go. I didn't have to "be careful" anymore. ********** Even though she was in a university in the city, we never called one another and we never met up. We kept in touch via weekly emails. They were sort of electronic continuations of our banter when we worked together. "It's so quiet here now that you've left," I typed to her, "It's such a relief!" "Don't make me come back there and apply for work again!" She typed out her 'threats', "I'll do it! I'll come back and strangle you with your crooked collars!" I laughed, but our joking was tinged with a cloud of seriousness. Amelia wasn't doing so well in her classes. She was struggling to stay afloat and though she said would continue to do her best, each successive emails seemed less and less hopeful, lacking any of the usual energy and eagerness she used to exude. I did what I could to encourage her, to take her mind off of school. "Thanks Patrick," she typed one time, "These little emails are really helpful for me. They mean a lot." I leaned back in my chair staring at the computer. I saw the pretty face of a former co-worker on the screen. The image made me feel good inside. I wanted her to feel good. I was hoping she was smiling that warm smile of hers. *********** About a year and a half, I was working at the public desk, my head looking down at the pile of papers in front of me. I could see someone approaching the desk and I looked up. "Amelia!" I said. My eyes lit up. Hers were already sparkling. The small young woman scooted around the desk and I gave her a soft hug. She held me a little tighter, a little longer. I put my hands gently on her waist. I immediately moved my hands away, my heart skipping a beat. She stepped back and smiled gently, looking me over like she was recovering her fond memories. Our emails had trickled to infrequent reviews by then. I asked, "So how are you? How's school?" "I dropped out!" She quipped still smiling. "Oh." "No worries! It's good!" She waved her hands. Her voice had that melodic spring to it that cheered my soul, " I couldn't stand that school anymore. I've enrolled in another one...out of town." "Oh," I kept saying then added, "That should be good. A change of scenery might help." She nodded quickly in agreement. I took note that the young teen I had hired 4 years ago was growing up. She had gone through hurdles in her life that showed in her eyes but not in a bad, wearing sort of way. There was a resolve and determination in her face that, combined with her happy and energetic nature, made for a young woman who was maturing and growing very attractively. But I always saw her as that young teen on her first day at work. Her visit was brief. She didn't want to stay to say hello to anyone else even though I asked. "Just wanted to tell you and go," she said. We hugged again. This time I held her just as closely. I felt her body press up against mine. It felt good. She was so warm. My eyes rolled around the library, trying to see if anyone was looking. Then Amelia left the library for the last time. Our infrequent emails continued. She was enjoying her new school much more and was having a good time at the dorms. That didn't surprise me. In one of her last emails, she mentioned that she had started to see someone, another student. Upon reading this, I couldn't help but frown. I had this image of a man being hugged by a small young woman with a sunshine smile, being revitalized by her energy and warmth. I crossed my arms and shook my head, smirking at myself. "Don't be stupid, Patrick," I said to myself, playing with my collar, "This is good. This is good." The emails stopped. ********** It had been 4 days since we met at the railings above the square. It was Christmas Eve. Amelia would be leaving for Australia in 3 days. It was crazy busy at the library in the days leading up to the Christmas holiday closures. I had barely enough time to stop and breath let alone tackle the pile of work on my desk. But I'd be lying if I didn't afford myself time to think of Amelia. I'd have a line up of patrons at the desk waiting for service and I'd be lost in thought of the girl with the deep brown eyes and perpetual smile. She put a smile on my face...and a knot in my stomach. I looked around the department. I saw images of this sweet young girl working amongst the shelves. She would laugh and joke and move with a youthful exuberance that I admired. And whenever she came over to me, she was first and foremost in my mind. She was a person of pure innocent energy that I wanted to protect and guide. She was pretty and attractive. That was as far as I allowed myself to think of her though even though deep down in my gut, in a dark place I never wanted to explore, I wanted her to stay close to me. And now she was going to be pretty much gone from my life in 3 days. She had to tell me. And she wanted to know why we never went out. She had to ask. Each thought bounced off one another now and made my head hurt. Then she had just left me there and I wasn't sure if that was actually the end of it. I went home after work carrying heavy loads in my bags, still agonizing over my thoughts about Amelia. I pushed my shoulder against the door to the lobby and nearly tumbled over as it was held open for me. "Whup!" I yelped and tripped on my feet. "Oh! Hey there, Mr.Santos! Careful," the concierge said, "Sorry. I was trying to hold the door open for you." Composing myself, I smiled half-heartedly, "That's okay, Selby. Not your fault. I don't seem to be paying attention to anything." The tall, earnest-looking man helped me with my bags to the lobby desk. "You have a package here." He handed me something that seemed like a book wrapped in plain brown paper. Taking it from him, I examined it, turning it over. Written on one side was, "Patrick Santos". 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. Amelia Then And Now "Amelia," I said, trying to control the trembling in my voice, "I want you so much." Her smile returned, strong and bright. We kissed longingly, desperately, passionately. The kiss blew the world around us away. There was only the two of us. We didn't even think as we awkwardly fumbled with our pants and shoes and boots. Quickly we were both naked and eager to touch and explore each other's warm flesh. I sat back down onto my chair, ignoring the hard cool metal of the cast iron seat on my butt. I watched Amelia as she stepped over and straddled me, her beautiful, petite body glistening below the light. She wrapped her hands behind my neck as I positioned myself below her, brushing my swollen tip against her soft petals. She lowered herself slightly and my tip just barely parted her lips. With my hand, I moved my tip back and forth, caressing the length of her tender slit with the top of my shaft from the bottom up to the top. Amelia gasped and swallowed. "Okay?" I whispered to her. She nodded quickly. Then her mouth agape and her eyes blinking, she lowered her hips and slid over and onto me. "Uhhn!" we groaned in sharp unison. I slumped down uncomfortably against the unforgiving back and seat of the iron chair. Amelia was soon seated on my lap, the two of us completely united, sharing our warmth and passion in the most intimate of ways. She kissed me on the forehead then pressed her lips hard over my mouth. She groaned softly as her hips slowly began to buck and roll over my crotch, rising and lowering with deliberate zeal. She felt like a warm, tight and moist glove as I glided in and out of her. I dragged my finger tips down her bare back several times before clutching them tightly around her waist, feeling it sway and undulate in a smooth unbroken rhythm. "Huhh, Huhh!" My breaths were so sharp and hard that my gasps blew past her cheeks and fluffed her hair at the side of her neck in between kisses. "Mmn, ah, ah!" she cooed as she leaned back. I had a sweet view of her lovely proportioned breasts, perky and beckoning to me. I indulged in their supple tenderness with long and languid sucks, licks and kisses. She moaned softly as she moved over me. Her voice still had that sweet lilting melody. My own breaths were calmed and relaxed by her steady breathing. My low groans were the bass-line to the rhythms of her quick gasps and long moans. Amelia lowered the side of her face against my shoulder as she tried to catch her breath in vain, the strains of the wanton aches in her body beginning to show in her sharpened brow and trembling open mouth. I slid my hands below her small bottom and, with a grunt, stood up from the chair, lifting her up. She wrapped her arms and legs around me tightly as I slowly carried her over to the reclining futon. I lowered down into the cushion. Her legs spread out as I slid my hips between her smooth thighs. We moved as one, her back arching upward as I thrust into her then relaxing as I withdrew. In and out, in and out. Her body felt so incredible. I couldn't hold her close enough. Her knees pulled up and legs clutched against my waist, giving me even smoother passage through her. I curled onto my knees. With Amelia still on her back, I held her legs apart as I looked down and watched as I thrust over and over into her wide open snatch. "Ahh, ahn! Mmnn! Ahhn!" I loved her gentle moans. They weren't agonized or strained. They were simply and utterly cries of pleasure and passion and I matched them with my own groans of satisfaction. I continued my strokes, my hips bucking over and over against her. She wiggled out from under me. I rolled onto my back and now she sat on top of me, straddling me. Again, I held my shaft steady beneath her. Quickly she pushed herself onto it. She placed her hands against my chest as she rolled and rocked her hips, mixing her pace from slow to fast to slow again. Her mouth was open slightly and smiling. She tossed her head back, moving the hair that had fallen across her face, only to have strands drift forward again when she leaned forward as she continued her motions. I held onto her waist and looked up at her. Despite the cool temperatures just beyond the walls of the pool house, her body was glistening from perspiration. The pale skin of her pretty face was flushed red, her brown eyes were watery and twinkling, her mouth trembled open and closed, and her fine brow was knit tightly. I couldn't think of anyone more desirable and beautiful than she was. "Huhn! Huhn! Ahn! Amelia!" I groaned as I threw my hips upward. We made love with urgency, trying to make up for all the time that had passed between and fighting against the time we had left together. But even with that thought underlining the moment, we still took our time with one another, neither one of us taking advantage of the other not taking each other's feelings for granted. This moment in time was for the both of us. It would mean nothing if it were anything less. My body began to tense, the pressure finally reaching a crescendo despite whatever efforts I was making to prolong this exquisite sensation. I could feel her petals clenching against my pulsing member with each and every one of my heated strokes. My heart was pounding, barely being able to breath between my flurry of gasps and groans. Faster and faster I thrust into her. "Uhn! Ahn! Pa...ahn...Patrick! Ahn!" Amelia collapsed against my body and we locked our lips together as we clutched one another closely, moving towards the climax. "Uhnn, God! Huhn! Ah-Amelia!" I gasped, then every muscle in my body tensed before I felt the surge shoot through and out of me, "Nnnnn-ahh-huuuh-nnnn!" I could feel it rush out me uncontrollably, it almost hurt. Spurts shot out from me and into her warm and welcoming body. Almost immediately I felt her hold my body tightly against her. "Nnnn-AHHH-uhnnn! Mmmm!" She loosed a long relieved cry as she came in a quick rush. It softened to a gentle purr as she spilled her own warm wetness down over my length. Her small body was trembling and she made high-pitched gasps, as I dragged my fingers down her back and clutched at her bottom still bucking every last bit of my lusty cream into her tenderness. Both of us spent, we lay motionless holding one another, joined together. Our eyes were closed but our mouths were wide open, sucking in long drags of oxygen. Our bodies were both damp and overheated but they felt incredible pressed up against one another. I soaked in her warmth, absorbed whatever spirit and energy she could give me. Amelia finally slid off of me and lay down beside me on the futon. We lay on our sides, facing one another. As she touched my chest, I kept playing with her hair around her ear, watching the redness in her face diminish until she was simply rosy cheeked-again. We couldn't stop smiling. "Merry Christmas," I said, not feeling the least bit silly in doing so. She laughed quietly and said, "Merry Christmas." We kissed gently. She gazed at me lovingly and asked, "You won't forget me Patrick?" No Amelia, I would never forget you. The young girl I wanted to laugh and skate with and to hear sing, the young woman I wanted to take hold of and make love to for as long as I could: I would never forget either of them. She was gone in 2 days. Somehow I knew and I resigned myself to one thought: I'd never see her again. ************ Kata Tjuta, Valley of the Winds, Australia 3 years later... I sat there on a rock away from where the rest of the tour group had hunkered down to watch the sunrise over the high dome formations of red rock. We had driven there from our camp under cover of darkness shrouding the desert to see this. As the first ray of sunlight pierced the horizon like a glowing diamond, I let the serenity of the moment take me away. The face and plateau of the red and mauve hills changed minute to minute, colours intensifying and cracks and crevices, once hidden, revealed. Then I felt the warmth. It swept over me like a wave then cradled me like a lover. It reminded me of her. I wished that she was there beside me. Amelia had returned home from Australia in about 2 months. There was no internship, no job offer. She had no intentions of staying there as it turned out. She came home to be with her family for her last days on this earth. I never found out until she was gone. Three days before Christmas, I was working at the library when an older gentleman approached me. It was her father. He told me about her passing away 4 months earlier. I can't imagine what the expression on my face must have looked like. I just remember not actually believing what he was saying. Even after all those years, it felt like she was always right there beside me. Her voice, her touch, her warmth still resonated within me. Her father gave me a package, wrapped in simple Christmas paper. She had requested that it be given to me before Christmas. He had asked her if she wanted me to come to the hospital to see her, but she didn't want that. Looking at the package, at its shape, I wondered to myself if it was the memory book. Her father looked at me closely and said, "You're the one in that photo book of hers, aren't you?" I nodded, kind of in a daze. He also nodded, "She asked to be buried with it." He shook my hand and left. I just stood there holding the package. I didn't open the package until Christmas. It's not that I wasn't tempted, always seeing it when I came and went as it sat on my coffee table. It just seemed appropriate, respectful, to wait. After my family had finished opening all of their gifts, I disappeared to the basement and opened her present. It was another memory book. The first page had one sentence written on it, "I'm here." The pages were filled with images of Amelia from around the time that I first met her to the time that she left the library and then through university. She grew up before my eyes in a flip of a few pages. The last couple of pages had photos of her in Australia. She looked so beautiful and so happy. There was one photo in particular which I just stared at forever, in which her essence just radiated so brilliantly in the photo, her wide-open eyes, her glowing cheeks, and mesmerizing smile. She looked at peace amongst the rock formations in the Australian desert. There was a little post it note for these photos: "Patrick, you were right. Nice people. Nice cities. Nice weather." I had to chuckle. The last page had one photo stuck in the middle. I touched it gently with my fingers. It was the only photo of just the two of us, a long time ago at that dinner. Below it she had written, "I will always be here." A year later, I had finally made my way to Australia. When I arrived, I immediately sought out where she had been in that photo. Not just the location, the exact spot she had been sitting where the picture was taken. I wanted to see what she had been seeing, to know that peace she had found in her heart and shared with me in that photo. There, on that rock, as the sun's warmth intensified and as the face of the hills changed right before my eyes, I didn't need to wish for her to be there with me. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, smiling. I could hear a sweet voice sing for me and me alone. She was there. Amelia would always be with me.