I wanted to call Ali every night the first week I got back from New York but made myself ignore the need. My weekend had been unbelievable, and I kept replaying it in my head. I suspected it would not have meant as much to Ali herself, and I didn't want to be the annoying younger cousin. She might only be a couple of years older than me, but seemed so much more mature and sophisticated.
I still wanted to call her all through the second week, but by the third I began to realize it had been a pleasant interlude and to accept it as such. I threw myself into work and let the ache in my muscles distract me. It was winter, and the landscaping had been put on hold. Now Dag and his crew worked indoors most of the time, turning their hands to anything practical. I fitted showers, kitchens, waste disposal, new boilers, rewired an old house, replaced tiles and siding, fixed shutters, something different almost every day.
On the second Monday of January 2005 there was a letter waiting for me at my breakfast place. Mom sat across from me and Sarah, my eight year old sister, jiggled impatiently in her chair.
I sat down and took a sip of coffee, picked the envelope up, turned it over to read the embossed School of Art stamp, ran my fingers over the raised paper.
"For goodness sake, Tom, open it," Mom said, grinning.
I took my breakfast knife and sliced through the top, slid out the typed letter inside, spread it open. I read the words once, then again to be sure.
"Tom!" Mom said.
"I'm in," I replied.
Sarah squealed and Mom came around and hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe, my head pressed deep into her soft cleavage.
"Call Alison," Mom said when she released me.
"Tonight," I said, "I'll be late for work. Dag'll be outside in a minute."
"Don't forget then."
I smiled at my pretty mother and shook my head, "I won't."
I worked even harder that day. It was outside work, some overgrown trees that needed cutting back, logs cut and stacked ready for burning. I sweated copiously even in the cold winter air. When I got home I showered and came downstairs in an old pair of track bottoms and a faded tee shirt. Mom had gotten in from work after picking Sarah up and was preparing our meal.
"Call Alison," she said over her shoulder.
I watched her for a moment, enjoying the sight of her standing at the worktop, looking at her slim legs exposed by the short skirt. She could have been my sister, I thought, and turned away to the phone. I dialled Ali's number and waited. It rang five, six, seven times and I was about to hang up when she picked up.
"Alison Graham," she said.
"Hi Al, it's Tom."
"Of course it is," she said and I could hear the smile in her voice.
"How are you, Al?"
"Don't fuck around Tom."
"I'm in," I said.
She gave a squeal, just like my sister had that morning, and I heard a clapping sound as she hit the phone against her hand.
"Tom, that is just so brilliant. It's going to be great when you're here."
"But you'll have finished by then, Al," I said.
"No, I won't. You remember I told you about my post-grad, and my teaching. That's all been agreed now, as long as I get the grades, and I'll get them. So we can see each other all the time, Tom."
"That would be fantastic, Al."
She laughed again and I felt my heart start to beat again. It was going to be okay...
After that I called her once every couple of weeks and we chatted about nothing at all. She told me about her complicated love life, how she had broken up with Maggie at Easter, missed her and got back together at the end of April, but it wasn't quite the same and she was sure Maggie had had a fling with someone else in the weeks between, but she didn't dare ask.
She wanted to know if I'd gotten myself laid yet and I laughed and admitted that no, the opportunity hadn't come up. Besides, I was too tired to even think about sex once work was over.
Then, on Wednesday of the first week of May she called me.
"Tom, can you come out this weekend?"
"What? I don't know. Probably. Why?"
"I've found a really great apartment, but I want you to see it as well."
"Me? Why?"
"It's got two bedrooms Tom, and it's way bigger than where I am now, and I thought we could, you know, share when you come up."
"Wow, Al, I don't know. They'll be putting me in halls, I think."
"I know, but I checked. You don't need to be in halls your first year if you have relations you can stay with. And we're relations, aren't we?"
"But how much is this going to cost, Al... you know money's real tight for me."
"Come up here, Tom, we'll talk about it. I want you to see it anyway. I want your opinion. Can you?"
"I'll call you back tonight. I have a job on for Saturday but I'll see if I can get out of it. I could take the night bus and get in early Saturday, leave late Sunday."
"Try Tom, please? It would be so good to see you again."
"Yeah, you too, Al. I'll call you."