“And it feels like everything is somehow riding on this trip?”she asks, smiling when my eyes widen.“Oh, honey, I’ve been there.I’m sure this is a grand oversimplification, but maybe the first step is moving to Scotland, or at least spending more time here.You can’t fix your relationship if you’re halfway across the world, right?”
A woman in a sparkly red dress appears on the steps of the church and calls to the bride, who says she’ll be right there.
“Would you like to come to the wedding?”the bride asks me.
The unexpected question leaves me flustered.“Oh, I can’t.I’m not dressed appropriately, and I really should get going.Thank you, though, for the invitation and for the talk.”
On instinct, we both step forward with our arms open.The hug is awkward because of my camera between us, but it gives me an idea.“Can I take your picture real quick?I want to remember the beautiful bride I happened to find under the cherry blossom tree on a random sunny day in Edinburgh.”
Her delighted giggle makes me smile.She poses where I first saw her, looking at me, and then looking up at the tree.When I lower my camera, I expect her to dash into the church, but she comes back over to me instead.“Will you take a picture of us on your phone and send it to me on BeSocial?I want to remember you too.”She rattles off her handle as I get my phone out, and I promise to send her the pictures once I’m connected to WiFi.
“I’m really glad we met today,” she says as she backs toward the church.“Maybe we can stay in touch, and you can invite me toyourwedding.I promise I’ll say yes.”She winks at me and turns to open the church door.
“Wait,” I call.“I didn’t even ask your name.”
“It’s Nancy.”She waves over her shoulder as she disappears inside.
Laughter spills out of me, even as tears fill my eyes.Nancy was my grandma’s name.I tilt my head back, squinting against the bright sunlight.“Okay, Universe, you’ve got my attention.I’m listening.”
* * *
When I return to Canongate, I knock on the MacKinlays’ door.No one answers, so I carry on up the stairs to Graeme’s flat.I’m greeted by silence, although his jacket and boots tell me he’s home.I venture down the hall and hear his voice coming from the office.His professional tone and the short pauses in speech indicate he’s on the phone, so I go to my room and unpack my shopping, laying the items on the desk and pondering my sudden, out-of-character desire to buy things.
After my grandma died and I went into foster care, I became a minimalist.I have a vivid memory of the social worker telling me to pack my favourite things, and then taking over when I remained frozen and unable to perform the task.I didn’t care what I took with me; none of it mattered without Grandma.As I was moved from place to place over the next seven years, my foster parents provided me with clothes and other necessities, plus the occasional gift, but I never asked for anything or used my pocket money to buy more than treats or the occasional book, which I always donated somewhere after reading.Owning things of importance felt like a risk; they could easily be taken away or accidentally left behind when I was forced to move on.Because I wasalwaysforced to move on.
I never lost the sense that places, things, and people were temporary.During my first year at university, I knew I’d only be in my dorm room for a year, so I barely decorated.The next year, when Drew, Fern, and I moved in together, they encouraged me to buy a few things for my room, and I chipped in on decor for the spaces we shared.It was the first time since Grandma died that I felt at home, both within the space and with my little found family.Even then, I knew it wouldn’t last forever.
My first apartment in Toronto felt like my dorm room all over again, not only in its postage-stamp size but also in knowing I didn’t plan to be there for long.I lived in several places in Toronto, upgrading slightly as my pay increased, but that feeling of impermanence always lingered.Even when I lived with Rodger.
For so long, I’ve let my fears overshadow the things and people thatarepermanent fixtures in my life.Drew, Brodie, and Fern have always been there for me, even when we lived in different cities and life could easily have gotten in the way.Graeme and I may have drifted apart, but I’ve always known if I needed him, he’d be there without question, even after I broke his heart.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.I check my notifications, hoping for a reply from Samantha.I responded to her email the other day and confirmed I’m in Edinburgh and would love to meet for coffee before I leave.Instead, the new email awaiting me is an interview request from one of the many companies I applied at before I left Kingston.I skim the message to remind myself of the job description, noting the pay and benefits.Despite seeming perfect on paper, I get the sense the job itself—editing and formatting documents for a company that provides province-wide grants—would be mind-numbingly boring.
Still, as I said to Graeme the other day, a job is a job, and this is the only place that’s followed up with me in all my weeks of job hunting.
Even if itwasa boring job, at least I’d be living in a city I love again, with three of my best friends close by.I could finally do the things I always said I’d do, like take some classes and try new hobbies.I could explore the city again, the way we did in our university days.Whether I stayed with Drew and Brodie or rented a place, I could save money and think about buying a small place of my own within the next few years.Something that’smine.Maybe then I’d finally feel the sense of permanence that’s been missing.
All of this could be a good thing.Itshouldbe a good thing.So why do I feel like someone just punched me in the stomach?I look at my purchases from today, trying to imagine where I’ll put them.The image that comes to mind isn’t Drew and Brodie’s house or some abstract apartment of my own in Kingston.It’sthisapartment.
My gaze strays out the window to Arthur’s Seat, and the almost ethereal glow around the ancient extinct volcano.All at once, it hits me: I could live in a city that boastsmultipleextinct volcanoes.A city with two castles and fascinating museums and breathtaking architecture.A city where you can be bathed in sunlight one moment, soaked in rain the next, and shrouded in fog just minutes later.A city that features bagpipers on street corners and gorgeous parks and an endless supply of things to do, no matter your interests or hobbies.
Most importantly, a city where the love of my life lives.All of it could be mine if I just got out of my own damn way.
A knock on the door startles me, and I spin to see Graeme standing in the doorway.He’s smiling, but it fades the moment our eyes meet.“You all right, love?You look as if you’re about to cry.”
I suck air into my tight lungs.“I’m having a lot of Big Feelings at the moment.”
He leans against the doorjamb in a way that has me experiencing an entirely different set of Big Feelings.“Mum came by with some homemade biscuits earlier.Fancy a cuppa and a wee chat?”
“As appealing as that is, I need to say something before I chicken out.”My fingers are tingling and going numb, so I shake them out and suck in another deep breath.“I think...I think I might finally be ready to move to Scotland.”
I barely register Graeme moving.One second he’s across the room, and the next thing I know, he’s standing in front of me, so close I can feel the warmth of his body and smell his familiar musky cologne.His arms band around me, crushing me to him, and I cling to him like my life depends on it.
He releases me so suddenly, it causes me to stagger back, but he catches me by the shoulders and holds me in place.“I know you’ve always had a fondness for Edinburgh, so I don’t want to be presumptuous, but does this have anything to do with me?Withus?”
“It haseverythingto do with us.I’ve been such an idiot for so long.I have so many regrets, and yet...”I grip his wrists, needing more points of contact to ground me.“And yeteven now, I’m still terrified.”
His brows snap together.“Tell me what you’re terrified of,a ghràidh.”
