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.