Holly
Holly wakes to an empty bed.
And as she opens her eyes and draws herself slowly into the day, it takes her a moment to convince herself that yesterday actually did happen, that Gail had called to say she has finished the job, that she'd actually boarded a plane and come here just to be with Holly. That she had already met her parents and slept here in this flat in Montreal in this very bed next to her.
But it takes only a moment to find proof that this is a reality— that Gail really is here. She finds it in the form of not one, but two strands of white blonde hair lying on the pillow next to her, catching the sunlight streaming in from the cracks in the curtains.
Holly smiles, rolls over and stretches, taking in the further proof of Gail's presence in the foreign black bag and the utterly familiar black and white jumper lying over the back of a chair. Awakened completely by the need to find the actual body of evidence, Holly climbs out of bed, pulls on some clothes and wanders out of the bedroom.
She hears the voices coming from the kitchen.
"How difficult that must have been," she hears her mother say as she approaches the door.
"Yeah, but we couldn't tell her, so we had no choice."
"At least you knew it was for a good reason," her mother says as Holly walks into the room. Tasya is leaning against the bench, a coffee cup in her hand, shaking her head.
"That's what I had to keep telling myself," Gail says quietly as Holly smiles at them both but keeps quiet, not wanting to interrupt. She takes a cup from the dish rack, fills it with coffee from the jug and turns around, leaning on the bench.
Gail is perched on the same chair behind the kitchen door she sat in last night, her knees pulled up to her chest, her socked feet resting on the very edge of the chair. She still looks exhausted. Then, she can't have gotten more than a few hours sleep.
"Still," Gail continues, "It felt awful." She swallows, looking down at her hands, which are clasped around her knees.
Gail must be telling her mother about the job. And before she can brush it away, Holly fights the tiniest pang of something— maybe jealousy— that Gail has confided in her mother before Holly has even had a chance to hear about what happened in the last few weeks.
"I bet it was," Holly's mother tells her, coming over to the table and sitting at the other end. "I think you are brave to do this work."
"Maybe," Gail mutters, shrugging and staring down at her cup.
"Morning," her mother says, looking up at Holly. "Sleep well?"
"Hi. Yes I did." Holly looks over at Gail. She still looks exhausted. "Did you, Gail?"
"Mhm." Gail smiles at her, her eyes an unconvincing imitation of their usual piercing blue.
"Don't believe her, Holly," her mother says, sipping her coffee. "She was up far too early."
"I didn't wake you, did I?" Gail says, looking slightly alarmed.
"Not at all. I'm always up." Tasya tells her. "Anyway, now is your time to relax after that experience. You don't need to do anything while you are here. And if you need to have a sleep at any time. Just go and sleep okay?"
"Okay," Gail smiles up at her. "Thank you … Tasya."
"No problem." Her mother gets up and smiles at Holly, giving her a kiss on the cheek as she passes. "I am going to see if your father has finished with the paper so the rest of us can find out what is going on in the world." She tops up her coffee from the pot and leaves the room.
Holly smiles. Holly's father's day does not begin until he has devoured the papers.
As soon as her mother exits the room, Holly immediately steps over to Gail, leaning down, curling her arms around her neck and kissing her upturned face.
"Morning." she whispers.
"She's really lovely," Gail says, tipping her head toward the door.
"Told you." Holly agrees, kissing her again before pulling her chair over closer and sitting down in front of Gail, stroking her cheek. "You okay?"
"Okay," Gail nods. "I'm tired," she admits. "But I couldn't sleep this morning."
"Well, like Mom said," Holly tells her, "Rest any time you want to. You look like you need it."
"Well gee, thanks, Holly," Gail pouts.
Holly ignores the attitude, placing her hands on Gail's knees and giving them a gentle squeeze. "Seriously, babe, if you're tired, just take yourself off to the bedroom and sleep, okay?"
Gail smiles a small, reluctant smile. "Only if you come."
Holly grins and leans in and kisses her again. "Oh believe me when I tell you I am not leaving your side today, okay?"
She gets up and goes over to the window, looking out.
"You just did," Gail tells her, bratty.
"What?"
"Leave my side."
Holly just turns, raises her eyebrows and indicates the small stretch of wooden floorboard between them dismissively. "I don't think that counts."
She looks back out the window, leaning on the sink. "The sun's out," she says, taking in the bright, white scene outside, and all the melting snow dripping off the rooves of nearby houses.
She hears Gail get up and joins her at the window. The next thing she knows Gail is leaning against her back, her chin resting on Holly's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist.
"It is," she says, and Holly can hear the smile in her voice, which makes her smile too. "It almost looks warm."
"You want to go for a walk?" Holly asks. "I said I'd go get the flowers for Mom today. We could go now—if you're not too tired?"
"No," Gail says, drawing back Holly's hair and kissing her neck. "I want to go for a walk." She says it like it has just occurred to her that going for a walk would be the best thing that ever happened.
Gail
They stroll along the sunstruck streets, blinking from the glare of light upon snow. Gail walks quickly, hungrily breathing in the crisp cold air, feeling a curious sensation of liberty granted by this light.
"It's weird isn't it, what a little bit of sun can do?" she says to Holly, lifting her face toward the sun. "It's probably like, one or two degrees, but I feel like it's so nice today I could walk around in a t-shirt and be absolutely fine."
"Well don't," Holly tells her, grinning. "They'll probably come and lock you up. And I just got you back."
"I won't," Gail says idly, staring into the window of a gaudy cake shop as they pass. "Where are we going?"
"Florist."
Gail looks up and down the busy main street. "You know, it's funny, everything is kind of familiar but not at the same time."
"What do you mean?"
"I spent a summer here once, so I recognise everything. It looks like the Montreal I remember, but I am sure I have never walked down this street before."
"You never told me that. What were you doing?"
"Well, Holly," Gail sighs, swinging her arms by her side. "I want to tell you I was doing important volunteer work helping the needy, or advising on some groundbreaking research project, but I was working in a crappy nightclub for the summer, and mostly drinking and partying. And when I got bored, I went back to Toronto and did more of the same."
Holly laughs. "No wonder you don't remember it that well."
"True." Gail concedes, slowing down a little as she realises Holly has dropped a step behind her, unable to keep up with her enthusiastic strides. Gail can't help it, though. Even though she's exhausted, being here in the sun with Holly, away from all the drama and boredom of the past few weeks makes her feel like she could walk for days.
It is in this moment that she realises that she and Holly have never done something so simple together. They have never, ever walked down a sunlit street together. In fact she is not even sure they have ever walked down a street together in daylight that she can recall. And they sure as hell have never run an errand together. And for some reason—maybe it's the lack of sleep— this small fact is making Gail feel damn giddy. And she wants to laugh at the awesome ridiculousness of that feeling. But she doesn't—Holly already thinks she is crazy enough for wanting to strip to her t-shirt just because the temperature is threatening to go into the positive digits, so maybe unprompted laughing might tip the sanity balance. But still, she wants to laugh because never once did Gail Peck think doing something as mundane as running errands would make her feel this good. But there you go. That's the freaking power this woman who is walking a hurried half a step behind her has, it seems. It's the freedom from finishing the job, too, of course, that's making her feel like this. But Gail knows it is equal parts Holly at least.
"Hey, slow down. I have to go in here." Holly tilts her thumb at the florist on the corner. Gail follows her into the shop, breathing in the traffic jam of floral scents, as the door swings closed behind her. Inside the tiny shop, she idly follows Holly around as she takes her time picking out the right flowers for her mother's house.
Quickly bored, Gail wanders to the window, looking outside at the street. She spies the sign in the window of the bakery opposite. Montreal bagels. She'd forgotten about Montreal bagels.
"I'll be back in a second," she calls to Holly. Holly just nods, intent on listening to the florist telling her something about some bunch of greenery she is looking at, gently running her fingers over the leaves of the bouquet.
What a cute freaking geek, Gail thinks, smiling as she pushes open the door, her eyes on her breakfast prize.
By the time she exits the bakery, Holly is standing outside the florist with what looks half of the shop bundled under one arm. Gail saunters across the street, weaving through the backed-up traffic and back to her.
"Don't you ticket people for that back home?" Holly asks her, squinting into the bright sun.
Gail just shrugs.
"Bagels," she holds up the bag by way of explanation. "I forgot about the bagels here."
Holly grins, shading her eyes with her free hand. "My dad is going to love you, now. He's crazy for them."
"Well, I might save him one." Gail says, stretching her face back up to the sun, drawing in its flimsy warmth while she can. "Where to now?"
"That's it." Holly tells her. "That's all I had to do. Unless you want anything?"
Gail shakes her head. She can't think of one single thing she needs right now. Except maybe eighteen hours sleep. Or caffeine as a weak trade.
"Coffee?"
Holly nods, turning back toward the direction they came.
"I found this awesome little café back near Mom and Dad's. We can go there." Holly tells her adjusting the pile of flowers she is carrying.
"You know you've bought more flowers than your parents have actual apartment, Holly, don't you?" Gail laughs, shaking her head.
"I know," Holly sighs. "I kind of got carried away."
"Uh, yeah you did." Gail reaches over and takes one of the bigger bunches from her, tucking it under her own arm.
"Thanks," Holly tells her. She turns to her, grinning. "Anyway, this café, I spent a morning there last week, eating my feelings of missing you."
Gail doesn't say anything. She just smiles, shifts the bunch of flowers to her other arm and, reaching out, takes Holly's free, gloved hand in her own. She intertwines her fingers with Holly's, letting their now-coupled hands hang between them as they walk.
Out of the corner of her eye she can see Holly turn slowly and look at her. And she can feel the force of the teasing smile burning against her cheek. But she doesn't return the look.
"Shut up, Holly," she warns her, her eyes fixed on the footpath straight ahead, a small smile playing around the edges of her mouth.
But that smile still won't quit.
"I know, Holly. And I don't care."
The only response she gets is a gentle squeeze of her hand.