Alberta

Chapter Ten: A mourning

"I can't believe it's been two years already" I muse.

"Since you've seen the family" My girlfriend, Morgan, asks.

"Yes... it was Christmas a few years ago" I say looking out of the rental car windscreen and squinting at the road signs we pass. I dislike driving when I haven't a clue where I am. Today I had taken a flight, a bus, and now I'm in a foreign car taking roads unknown to a family vacation, an almost bizarre concept for me now, seven years on the outside of the family and the church.

My mom had sent an invite a month or so ago, a trip to the lake in Idaho, a trip with the entire family, staying in log cabins in the woods. It would be lake side, the guys could fish, the girls could swim, and the family would marinade like we were in a huge pot on the stove, mixing and sweating out, sharing our lives, our news, our family games and traditions, for a brief week and then home. 'Bonding' as my mom likes to put it. There would be fourteen adults, seven teenagers, ten middles (the pre-teens but above 8's) and eight, yes eight, under sevens, which included three babies. I would be the only one there without a child to run around after. It would sound ideal, but the single sibling always becomes the family babysitter. I was under no illusions this would be a restful trip, but I did long to see them all.

"Island Park" Morgan points out as we pass the sign.

"Finally" I observe, taking a right at the next exit.

Morgan takes my hand and places a kiss on the back of my knuckles. I eye her from under my sun glasses and smile. Morgan is such a breath of fresh air in my life, she has most definitely filled the silence and made it all come back to life again. She is my sunshine. I met Morgan a year ago, quite by accident at a work event. I was the coach of a high school basketball team at the time and she was the coach of the girls baseball at her own high school. We were both the youngest at our event, and by chance, both gay women and single. Let's just say one drink led to another on that first night I met Morgan, and we quickly became well acquainted. We realised pretty soon that we were a little too attached, and the distance between Oregon and Arizona became too much. Morgan made the move to Oregon and we have been living together ever since. The thing was, my family hadn't met her yet, they didn't like to talk about my love life, funnily enough, and so this would be quite the surprise. I wouldn't hide the people I loved from them though, and so I told my mom I was bringing someone, and left her fumbling for words on the end of the phone before I clicked off "see you next week" I had said cheerily.

I wasn't worried about anyone's opinions of Morgan arriving with me, but Allie's.

Allie was looking forward to spending time together, and yet, she had no idea it wouldn't be alone, not this trip. Allie and I didn't talk about my love life either, and it wasn't because I didn't think she would approve, or that she was still in the church, it was because it always felt wrong to me to tell the girl I had always loved about the girl I was now in love with. It wasn't Allie, it was me. I should have told her more, because I knew it would now be a bit of a shock and I didn't want to damage any part of our friendship, not now we were on a good footing. I spoke to Allie every morning on my way to work, she would dial in at the exact same time every day and I would expect it and look forward to it as we swapped our days plans, laughed and enjoyed the conversations that had been years absent. Harper would often be there in the background and tell me all about her day to day too.

It was the emails though that were sacred to my week, the inbox filled with thoughts, feelings, poetry and all of Allies ponderous thinking's. I loved to see it, to read it and taste it all, every word. It was a closeness to her most intimate revelations and the inner workings of her mind and it was what kept me sane, feeling like she was with me, just as close as always, and holding my hand. I would send back to her my own intimate thoughts, ideas, poems and notes that only she would ever be privy too. I selfishly didn't want that to end, the messages, and I didn't know if Morgan's presence would alter what we had both become accustomed too. I truly hoped not. I didn't want to miss her again, to lose the part of her that she offered to me, the part she saved, just for me.