Memories Are Wonderful

The night James came home we spent it in his apartment. It was a reunion fitting of the time apart. Like all new couples we more than made up for missing each other. There wasn’t a moment that night where we parted. I liked the quiet and comfort of just laying with him, feeling his familiar arms around me, hearing how his trip had been and of all the passions in his life that weren’t me. I loved how passionate he got about these things. It was a large part of who he was.

“That seems like quite the task to take on,” I said after he told me of his latest plans. He wanted another Ph.D., there was this intricate idea he had for an art show, some more movies he wanted to do.

“You know me,” his words nestled in my dark hair. Dave was out for a bit, with his new girlfriend I had still yet to meet. “I keep myself busy.”

My finger traced the length of his arm and my fingers entwined with his. “You certainly do.”

“Does that bother you?”

His bare stomach moved slightly as he spoke, directly in my line of view, as my head was resting on his shoulder. Most of the conversation I had been looking at his bare legs but not paying attention to them. My mind was almost solely focused on his words and his embrace.

“I’m a big girl. I can deal with it.”

“What plans do you have?”

The question made me pause deliberatively. It was a very good question, perhaps one that I should have asked myself more often. What was I planning? Here I was, laying in bed with my perfect man and arguably the best friend I had ever had, but I didn’t know what came next. My relationships had managed to sort themselves out but that was only one aspect of my life. All this was coinciding with obtaining my final degree. I didn’t have school as an excuse anymore to not figure out what I wanted to do. And the man beside me, who I loved more than I could have imagined, he had it all figured out. He had a million plans and I didn’t even have one. I didn’t want to spend my whole life working at a museum.

“To be honest, I’m not sure. The museum job might buy me some time to start writing. I was thinking about reworking my final research paper into a book idea.”

Through my thick curls I could feel James smile, “So then you should do it.”

“I’m not sure. I’m not the best writer. A book might me out of my reach.”

His arms pulled me closer, tight against his warm chest. It was all the reassurance I could have asked for but then came also his words, “You can do it. I’ll help you.”

I laughed, “and add another project onto your already gargantuan list?”

“You’re always at the top of the list, you should know that. Just please, don’t abuse that.”

I finally moved my gaze to meet his own. His brown eyes smiled even brighter than his mouth. No words were really needed because I think he knew I never would and if that wasn’t enough I rested my hand on one of his cheeks and guided the other towards a kiss. Then another. And another. It was hard not to get caught up in the moments with James. We could spend all the time in the world together it never felt like any time at all. It usually didn’t matter what we did or what other obligations we had time with each other was never time wasted.

The next morning I woke up to more optimism than I had when James was gone. Just the fact that he was around in the morning was enough to give me a better outlook on the day. When I opened my eyes he wasn’t in bed but I could hear him downstairs. In the kitchen I found him and his brother sitting together once again drinking coffee. A scene fitting of a home.

“So when do I get to meet her?” James asked before he saw me.

“I’m not sure yet, man.” Dave rubbed the back of his neck, “She’s not really the take home to meet your family type. At least not yet.”

James raised a curious eyebrow at his brother, “she sounds great.”

There was a hint of annoyance on Dave’s face that pervaded his reply, “Not everyone is as lucky as you. You should have learnt that by now.”

“As lucky as I am, none of it was easy.”

There was a tension I could feel just from the tone of their voices and their remarks and I didn’t like it one bit. I took that short pause to make my entrance down the last few steps and both brothers looked up at me. James with a smile and Dave with a small nod of acknowledgment.

“What are you boys up to?” My tone seemed to softened the atmosphere to what I was most used to in this house.

“Just having a coffee. I was thinking you and I could go out for breakfast.”

“Sounds good. Dave, are you coming?”

“Nah, I’m sitting this one out.”

I wondered if he had been hurt by James’s comments but I shrugged off the thought, unwilling to let it ruin the day.

I showered in his familiar shower and get dressed in clothes I had left there. We went to breakfast at this small art gallery café. The place was tiny and near empty but the atmosphere was perfect. White and green walls we decorated with paintings by a single artist and the tea pot they brought out for us was ornate cast iron. We both got crepes and listened to the soft music and talked over it and laughed and joked. The best thing about James was his ability to be serious when you needed him to be. He could be extremely mature at times. But that didn’t mean he gave up some of his childish ways when the mood called for it.

After breakfast we decided to walk to my apartment because I still had yet to introduce him to Kate as my boyfriend. If Kate and I were living together and James and I were dating they would certainly have to get along. And they did. We spent about an hour talking, during which it seemed James and Kate developed a teasing routine. It was obvious that they got on well but both liked to poke fun or tease the other like a brother and a sister would. It was weird to watch but thinking back Kate is like that with quite a few people she is close with and James seemed to fit right in.

Then James walked me to my sister’s and he headed off to go spend some time with his brother while I helped my sister with wedding stuff.

“So you and James, finally together, huh?” She was slipping through a large album of fabrics for the chairs. I laughed. She was the first one to use the word finally, although I had thought it many times.

“I guess so.”

“You guess so?” her finger ruffled the felt pattern on one of the fabrics. The colour was a nice forest green.

“Yes.”

It did feel good to say. A part of my thinks she could tell because she looked up from her work to smile at me, “I’m happy for you. Pretty soon we’ll be picking out these fabrics for your wedding.”

“Oh no. I think pretty soon is not the right term at all. Perhaps, far in the future.”

“You don’t think you two will get married?”

I shrugged, “I definitely haven’t put thought into it. I mean we just got together. You and Andrew were together forever before he proposed.”

Clara held up a purple silk with barely visible stripes. Her slender finger tapped it and she held it up for me to see. I shook my head disapprovingly.

“You’re right. You’re way too young.”

“Hey! I’m only a couple of years younger than you!”

A smirk played across her lips, “I thought you said you didn’t want to get married yet, so why does it matter?”

“I don’t. But you didn’t have to be condescending.”

Clara held up a cream coloured Victorian print fabric, once again tapping her finger on it as she showed it to me.

“I like it.” It was by far the best we had seen.

“But you guys are serious? This isn’t just friends with benefits type thing?” She placed the fabric off the side and continued to look through the album.

“I’m pretty sure we are.”

“So when’s he going to come back to my gallery? He hasn’t visited for ages!”

I laughed. “He’s been a busy guy. I barely get to see him.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

For the second time that day I really had to think about the answer to a question. It seemed as though the ratio of time James was away to when he was home was 3:1. Like for every two or three days he was home, he was gone a week. But the thing about it was he was doing the stuff he loved just like I had always wanted to do with Daniel. I couldn’t stop him from doing that, but I did have to find something I loved again as well. It would be tough, I could tell, but

“I can live with it.”

Another patch of fabric, light brown and gold pattern. I shook my head and it went back in the album and Clara continued to flip though the pages.

No, I was not ready for any mention of wedding that was not my sisters but I was certain that I loved James as much as a person could love another person and for now that was what was important.

All we had to do was take it one day at a time. Too much planning or future speculations might just put us back to what we were at Telluride: scared and confused.