Manila Envelope
14 March 2014 — Toronto
When she first heard the news, her heart broke into a thousand itty-bitty pieces. It's impossible, she kept telling herself, but she had seen the proof right in front of her – an image she would never get out of her head, an image that only made the situation more painful. She knew she shouldn't have stayed at her mother's an extra night just to meet her stepfather's parents; even with the caretaker at home, she always worried, and would only stop worrying when she was at home and saw with her own four eyes that he was safe.
"I'm really sorry, Miss Moreno and Dr Granger, but there was absolutely nothing we could do … The room is all yours, take all the time you need."
Imogen felt numb. So, so numb. But she didn't want to go back to her father's hospital room, only to see him bruised and scratched and bloody, once was enough. But at the same time she wanted nothing more than to hug him and kiss him and cry for hours.
How?
"Imogen," her mother spoke up from beside her, quietly, placing her hand on Imogen's shoulder.
"Can we go home?" Imogen asked, feeling another wave of tears threatening to break free, and not wanting to turn into a sobbing mess in the middle of the hospital's hallway again. "Your house, I mean, I can't go back –"
Natalie only nodded, her eyes somber. She reached for her daughter's hand and walked them out of the hospital, grabbing a taxi, not letting go until they reached the front door of the house. "You should get some sleep, sweetheart," she said, closing the front door, watching as her daughter just stand in the entryway, as if there for the first time.
"Not tired."
"It's midnight, it's been a long day …" Natalie trailed off. She didn't know what to do, her daughter had just lost her father and she currently barely even had her mother back into her life; everything was so overwhelming and no one quite knew the proper way to go about things. "I can make you some tea? Or run you a bath?"
"Tea … with honey; Dad always has hon – h-had honey with his t-tea." The tears were flowing and there was absolutely no way to stop them at this point. Imogen was surprised she even had any tears left, considering she'd been crying nearly non-stop for four hours now.
As soon as the phone rang, she saw the worried look on her mom's face and the way she tried to avoid looking Imogen in the eye. Once she hung up, all she said was, "We need to go to the hospital. Now." And just like that Imogen's mind could only jump to the worst possible conclusion and pray and pray and pray that she was wrong.
At the hospital she learned that her father had stumbled out of his house on the chilly November evening, unnoticed by his caretaker, Jean-Marc. But by the time Jean-Marc finished doing the laundry and went searching for Louis to play a game of cards, it was too late and he was nowhere to be found.
Half an hour later it was discovered that Louis had walked six and a half blocks up the road, only to cross the street into traffic and was struck by a van, driving much too fast for a residential area. The paramedics came, but there was little they could do, and upon arriving at the hospital, the doctors realised there was nothing they could do either.
XXX
It had been two weeks and Imogen still felt as though she had just heard the news. Her mother had been more of a mother than ever before, always checking on her, making her meals, bringing tea to her room, and most importantly taking care of funeral arrangements and legal matters. Her stepsiblings, Ryan and Alyssa, had been keeping her mind off of things, too, by drawing her pictures and singing her songs, they even managed to make her laugh once, before she closed up again, bringing up the walls around her. Her stepfather, James, was even attempting to talk to her more, reminding her that if she needed anything all she had to do was ask. But even with all of the love and support she was getting from her family and her friends, there was only one person who she wanted to talk to, who would understand completely how she felt without even having to say anything.
Imogen would lay awake in bed at night and crave the feeling of Fiona tangled in the blankets beside her; to have her stroke her hair and whisper loving words in her ear, to make her feel less broken and less lost and oh so loved. The two did, however, maintain fairly irregular communication with each other. If Fiona needed someone to talk to about the stress of work or her mild but apparent homesickness, they'd Skype for hours, and now Imogen would sit and tell her about her father's passing and all of the emotions running through her body, but their conversations were strictly always as best friends. Yet looking back, and even looking forward, Imogen did not want to be Fiona's best friend, she wanted – needed – more. She tried to get over her feelings during the summer (kissing Adam in the back of a van at camp may not have been her proudest moment), but the feelings for her ex-girlfriend did not disappear.
Upon her father's passing, Imogen began to realize how little she had left in Toronto. She had her mother, of course, and her mother's family, but Imogen knew deep down that even they couldn't keep her in the city. It was around Christmas that she finally decided to apply to an arts school in Rome. From their last talk at the beginning of December, Imogen found out that Fiona would be in Rome for at least another two years, until she was promoted from junior designer. Naturally, Imogen kept her application a secret from her ex-girlfriend, not wanting to risk the embarrassment of not getting in or seeing the disappointment of Fiona's face if she wasn't accepted. Her mother was very supportive of Imogen's decision to go to school in Rome, having grown fond of Fiona and knowing how much Imogen loved and missed her, especially considering the recent changes in Imogen's life. Natalie reminded her daughter constantly that she would be with her one hundred percent, so long as she was happy.
It wasn't until a very cold, very windy, and very snowy afternoon in March that Imogen came home to find a large manila envelope sitting on the kitchen counter, addressed to her.
"What's this?" she asked Natalie, pointing to the envelope, afraid to hold it or even look at it, fearing the worst, but desperately hoping for the best.
Natalie looked up from the newspaper she was reading. "Well, it's been awhile since I, personally, have seen one, but I suspect it to be some sort of congratulatory letter, welcoming you to Rome." She smiled and watched carefully as her daughter stepped closer the envelope, reaching forward and brushing her fingers over it. Natalie took a sip from her cup of tea before asking, "Are you going to open it, Imogen?"
Imogen looked at her mom before glancing back at the counter and then fixating her eyes on the floor. "What if it's a no?" she whispered, voicing her biggest fear. She felt so numb already, partially from the weather outside, but including the lack of dad in her life and the missing best friend, the numbness was overpowering, and if this letter only confirmed her fears, she didn't know what she would do or how she would handle it.
"Oh honey," Natalie sighed, going over to Imogen and wrapping her into a motherly hug. "If it's meant to be, you're in, and if not, you'll still go on to do extraordinary things." She pulled back and looked her daughter in the eyes. "Whether this letter says yes or no has no influence on your future, you determine your own future – concerning both school and Fiona. There are plenty of other schools and so many more changes for you to see her again. So whatever secrets this letter holds, we're going to be happy. You've gone through so much in the past year that just applying is an accomplishment. You have no idea how proud of I am of you, Imogen. Your father would be too."
Imogen smiled a watery smile. "You're right." She let out a breath she didn't even know she had been holding in and picked up the envelope. "Well, it's now or never, Rome. Do your worst."
"That's the spirit," Natalie laughed, having mixed emotions herself about the contents of the letter. All she wanted was her daughter to be happy, if that meant going to Rome there was no way she was going to stop her. However, she would have also loved to have Imogen around more, especially considering how their mother-daughter relationship was finally being mended and built up after so many rocky years. All she knew at that moment, right before Imogen tore open the seal, was that she would be the most supportive mother she could be, no matter what the outcome was.
With shaky fingers, Imogen began ripping away the sealed lip of the envelope. She pulled the single sheet of paper out and wanted nothing more than to puke at the mere thought of reading it, but quickly pulled herself together. Her eyes flew across the page, trying to take in all of the words and information, but her mind could not get past the first word written at the top of the letter – congratulations.
She wanted to laugh and cry and scream and dance, and mostly importantly she needed to talk to Fiona.
"Well?" her mom asked.
"I guess it's time to learn a little Italian."
XXX
Three nights later, Imogen sat at her computer, Skyping a long lost best friend in Italy.
"You seem awfully bubbly tonight," Fiona commented, eyeing Imogen over the computer.
"I may have some news that I'm off-the-wall excited about and I'm really, really, really hoping you will be too!" Imogen waited patiently during the first half hour of their call, constantly wanting to tell Fiona, but always hesitating – what if her ex-girlfriend wasn't as excited as she was?
"Spill, girl." Fiona could only smiled back. It had been forever since she last saw Imogen this happy, and in light of her dad's passing mere months ago, it made her feel better knowing Imogen was feeling better. Sure, they may have broken up, but that couldn't prevent Fiona from caring about her.
"I may have applied to a school in Rome; it's pretty laid back, nothing too competitive, but it's in Rome." Imogen just stared at the screen, trying to read Fiona's reaction.
"Imogen! You – what – when – how –" It was obvious that Fiona was very, very confused and very, very shocked, but she had the biggest smiled pasted across her face.
"Cool it with the questions, Detective Coyne! Or at least one at a time," Imogen offered, not even trying to hide a slight giggle at how adorable Fiona was being.
"When will you hear back?" Fiona didn't mean to sound so desperate, but it was no secret that she still loved Imogen and Imogen still loved her. Just the thought of having Imogen in Italy with her made Fiona's body feel electrified – they could go shopping together, late-night pizza dates, early morning espresso before work and school, the possibilities were endless; in fact, for all Fiona cared they could simply just stay in all the time and it wouldn't bother her, as long as they were together and happy.
"Silly me, I should've included the best part – I got this cute little letter in the mail a few days ago, signed, sealed and delivered." She held up the letter briefly before looking back at Fiona. "I guess this school wants to see me build some more mini-models or something ... in Rome ..." Imogen said it so casually even she was a little surprised.
In her room in Italy, Fiona looked back at Imogen, her mouth open – and was that a tear in her eye? "You're coming to Italy? You're coming to Italy." At first it was a question, but after stating it for the first time it became real and the repetition only confirmed the reality of the situation.
"Right after graduation, Fiones. So I hope you have a spare bed or a couch or I'll even take the floor just promise me we'll be together."
"I've missed you so much, Immy. And my bed is definitely big enough for both of us."