Alberta

Chapter Nine: How I've ached

A blizzard began that night, on Christmas Eve, Eve. It came after dinner. Willa arrived upon my door as I had asked of her, and she hurried in from it, almost buried by the pure white snow. Ben had already left to complete his deliveries from the giving tree, for all of the ward that weren't doing so good this year. I should have been concerned that he may get stuck out there somewhere, unable to return home that night, but as Willa let down her hood and snowflakes fell to her feet...all thoughts were consumed by her.

"Let me take your coat" I offer, hands outstretched. I take it and hang it beside the radiator to warm through.

"I'm not sure I will get back home in that" she says peeking back out of the window and watching the winds whip up and deliver more and more snow fall. It had begun to cover the door.

I am relieved that Willa cannot easily depart, because I wanted her here with me, selfishly, and an hour wouldn't do. A night would not even touch my want of her time, or her presence, and if I could steal her for a moment longer... I always would.

"Come" I ask, taking her hand and pulling her into the family room.

The TV is paused and she smiles as she recognises the picture "It's a wonderful life" she notes. "Allie we do not have the time"

I raise my eyebrows "have you seen the snow that's currently burying the house" I remind her. "I'm pretty sure we have an entire night to watch it" I add with a smile. "I even have hot chocolate" I say pointing at the tray I had put down beside the couch seconds before she had knocked.

"Willa it's a tradition that is five years wanting" I remind her.

"I still watch it every year" she confesses, sitting on the couch and scooping her legs into her arms.

"You do" I ask surprised.

"Don't you" she asks, looking up to me as she pulls her long dark hair into a messy bun that falls in stray strands down the back of her neck. Her oversized grey sweater with her favourite basketball team lends to her casual and cute appearance which makes me think of her as the eighteen year old that left me here.

"No" I reply bluntly. I'm suddenly feeling mad at her. The sight of Willa evokes mixed feelings. I'm so overwhelmed I can't think a thought without it switching on me, happiness, madness, happiness repeated, disappointment, anger, love, content, and madness again.

I sit beside her and press play. "I'm surprised" she says "I thought it was your favourite film in the holidays... don't you watch it with Ben" she asks "I thought you said it would be the film you watched with your husband every year when you finally got married"

I take a deep breath, because she's right...I did say that, but when I was fourteen and before it started to feel like I already watched it every year with the one I loved. How could I watch this film with Ben when it was ours, not his. I would have felt like I was cheating on the memory of Willa, and those nights with her, those nights it all felt a little too close to perfect. Ben deserved new traditions, and we had made them... a new film, a new ritual, and those were ours, a day later on Christmas Eve. It was funny, no matter how much time had passed, Christmas Eve, Eve, would always remain Willa's. I confess I was not much like myself, that day, once a year. Ben would give me space and offer me the room to get through it, he had no idea why all of my days were good but this one, no idea why it was so solemn, and he wouldn't know. Ben could never learn why, because it was the day that I ached the worst, the day the fibres of my being pulled and twisted and demanded her from me. Those were the days my journals filled with new entries, poems and confessions, wants and frustrations. I had no way of contacting Willa and so my journal took the brunt of it all, like it weathered us from constant storm to blistering heat, the magic of spring to the goodbyes of autumn. Now, she's here in front of me, and I have so much to say, so many feelings to gather and express. I do not know where to start.