Apparently, this story wouldn't leave me alone, and I had to write Ken's POV to this story.
So here it is. He's a bit more stubborn than Rilla to write but I think it shaped out nicely. I also think I tied it nicely in a bow so no more plot bunnies can run wild on me with this one.
She came into my life like a breath of fresh air, sometimes I think I needed her more than she possibly needed me. She was teaching me patience, she was teaching me a new outlook on life. She catches herself every once in a while, frowning as she tries to stop herself thinking one way.
The day she holds my hand for the first time, timidly despite it almost being weeks(months?)since we started down this path. We meet up occasionally at a bookstore near her place. Sometimes we wander the farmers market Saturday morning. It was all extremely innocent those early days.
We rarely talk about, she knows Nan warned me. Nothing with details, just the fact that she came out of something not so great. Di was the one who suggested we meet up in the first place after I messaged them in a group text. Making a joke that I swore I had seen Rilla in a store.
'Hey, your little sister not wandering around Winnipeg is she? I swore I just saw her doppelgänger?"
"Rilla?" Di answers me.
"Do you have another?"
It takes a moment for them to reply.
"No Rilla is here," Nan finally replies.
"She was staying with me for a few months earlier this year," Di answered next.
"You never said anything?"
"She didn't want us too, it's a complicated situation." Nan popped up.
I can almost see them talking to each other in another conversation. It made me wonder just what happened.
"Is she all right?" I asked
"She will be in time," Nan answered once again.
"You know, it might be good for her to get out a little. Maybe the two of you can meet up for coffee?" Di pops in.
"Di!"
"Nan, it's Ken. He's perfect for Rilla to test the waters out on. He's an old friend it will be nice for her to have a friend or a date?" Di replies back
"Umm…you do realize I am right here?" I write back.
I had forgotten about Di's crazy plan when she popped up again.
"Rilla willing to meet you if you want to?
"There are some rules though," Di responded next.
It was Nan who popped up later who told me to be let Rilla make the first moves.
She's fragile
It's not my place to delve into, but considering we set this up. I feel like I should at least mention that Rilla is coming out of something complicated. Let her make the first move for anything, she doesn't like being touched. Just be patient with her, she needs friends, plus we all know she used to have a massive crush on you.
Over the weeks I learned the Nan and Di used the wrong adjective. She came out of something horrific, the thought of her going through what she went through before the age of twenty-four. It made me sick to my stomach.
She doesn't give up many details and when they do come out. They come out quietly as if she's letting it go for that day at the very least. Some turn my stomach, wondering how any guy could do such things to another person. Her broken arm still has a lingering pain once in a while. She regrets a lot, dropping out of school, letting herself be captivated, alienated from other people all at the same time.
She doesn't completely trust me, she doesn't trust anyone. She always looking over her shoulders, always terrified that she will wake up as if this all a dream.
Still every Saturday, we meet up somewhere.
I learn more about her every time we see each other. She's far from the young girl I knew as a teenager. She loves her coffee and as late summer turned into fall, her skirts were replaced by jeans and blouses. She likes pretty things, though occasionally she would sport some sort of comic book or star trek tee shirt. She was funny and enjoyed baking though admitted she was a terrible cook.
She amazed me with her silent resilience and her strength. Watching her was like a movie in my head, watching her curly hair blow in the wind as she took a deep breath of the prairie air. She loved the outdoors, it made her feel free she said one day.
As the weather changed scarves and crocheted hats completed her outfits.
I stood completely still as she tugged on a dark green toque on my head. It took everything in my body to not kiss her as she gave me what I remember as her first genuine happy smile.
"There you go," She said to me as she stepped back. "Now you're ready for fall."
I wanted to tell her I had already fallen at that point. Instead, I take her offered hand, as she drags me towards the bridge in the park.
It felt like I was learning about love all over again at thirty-one years old. Learning that love isn't the perfect cute cutter aspect I thought I knew about.
It was a cold morning when she called me, her voice small as I answered the phone.
"My car won't start," she told me.
"Why don't I come to pick you up?" I offered slowly. "We're going to the same place after all?"
I can hear her chew on her lip, debating mentally if this was something she could do. She's guarded where she lived all this time, she hasn't even allowed herself to be alone in the car with me.
She silent once again for another good moment, "Okay," she answered finally. "For the ride," she adds on. "Can I meet you at the Starbucks on Corydon?" She asks for a compromise for herself.
"Of course," I smile into the phone.
She's on edge, but she buckles her seat belt promptly. She wearing a pair of skinny jeans, knee-high boots and a light jacket. I smile at her as she brushes her red hair out of her face, a light speckle of make up that barely covered her freckles.
"Do you want to get a coffee or wait until getting closer to the market?" I said with a smile.
"It is fine," She says. I can tell she's a basket of nerves and the only thing that keeps her grounded is when she takes my hand gingerly. Something she does more regularly when she needs a moment of stability. It's a strange balance of trusting, yet not trusting at the same time. She wants to trust me, but at the same time, she's always ready to run.
"You're wearing your hat," she said after a moment.
"Of course, it's the warmest one that I have," I smile at her. "I can look at your car if you want? If not I'll call my mechanic and see if he can help you out." I told her as I focused on driving.
"I think I forgot to get gas," She tells me honestly.
"Well that is an easy enough fix," I tell her with a smile.
"I got a cat," she tells me after a moment of silence. "A rescue, it was my therapist's idea. Her name is Luna, though one can say I forget to put gas in my car, how can I remember to feed a cat?." It's not the first time she mentions her therapist. I know well enough by now that her quiet calls Wednesday evenings were after those sessions.
"Cats generally bother you more once they are hungry," I smile at her.
"You're not allergic to cats are you?"
Her question is fairly innocent yet laced with what was hidden meanings in her brain.
"I'm not," I tell her with a shake of my head. "Not allergic to any animals I think."
"Thats good," she said simply as she looks out the window.
The first time she kissed me I wasn't expecting it. We had been skating on the rink at the forks, something she hadn't done since she was a child. Skating that is, she wants to learn before she attempts the river path later after the new year.
"I'm going to fall flat on my face," She squeaked. "This is not like riding a bike, you don't just remember how not to fall flat on your face while skating." She held onto my hands as wobbled. I chuckled.
"You're doing fine, all you need to do is remember how to achieve your balance," I tell her. "Relax, I've got you."
I curse to myself at that moment as she looks at me. I can see the gears turning over in her head. Her eyes misting over as she fights whatever memories come to the forefront.
"One foot then the other to push off," she says shakily.
"One foot, then the other," I nod my head, gently squeezing her hands in encouragement. She's far from the only one learning how to skate, but to me, she is the most adorable as she finds her feet.
She picks it up quickly as her confidence grows.
"Ken! Ken! I don't know how to stop! I don't know how to stop!" She panics as she picks up speed as she goes around the rink.
She crashes into me as we both flail about, I catch her as I catch my balance first as I am near the boards. I hold her up, her legs between mine as I hold her by the waist.
Our cheeks are red from laughing, and then she kissed me timidly. Blushing and hiding her face when she finally pulled away from me.
"Rilla?" I breathe out. She looks up at me still blushing. "Can I kiss you again?" I ask her as I lightly caress the side of her face. It takes her a moment before she nods her head, the pompom of her hat bouncing lightly.
"Do you want to come inside watch a movie?" She asked quietly from the passenger's side of the car. It took me back as it wasn't that long ago that she allowed me to see her small safe haven from the outside. It was an old Edwardian apartment building, that seemed to suit her. Today was the first time she ever invited my inside.
I was rather stunned for a moment.
"I have hot chocolate and marshmallows?" She interrupts my thoughts.
"Well, you won me over with marshmallows," I smile at her.
Why was I nervous? I've been to plenty of apartments over the course of my twenties.
I follow her up the stairs my heart beating as fast as her most likely. I know this has nothing to do with sex, though I would love nothing more than to feel her body against mine. I know that is not on the table any time soon. I know her experience is limited compared to my own and her past doesn't make it any easier for her.
We end up wrapped in old quilts that once belonged at Ingleside. Her place is her own, the furniture was mostly Ikea but it was quaint. Her cat poking its head out from its hiding spot. Watching, inspecting my every move until it jumped into her mistress's lap.
"I've never seen Luna come out with company over," she whispered. "She doesn't even like when Nan and Di visit."
"I should get going?" I say looking at the clock it well after ten pm.
"Stay," She says shaking her head. "It's late and it's snowing."
"It's fine it's just snow," I try to decline.
"I know you're not him," She responded her voice steady.
"Only if you're sure?" I find myself saying.
"I'm sure," She looked up at me as she wrapped her arms around me. We fall asleep on the couch that night, waking up in the early hours as we stumble to her small bedroom still half asleep. Nothing else happens of course, not that night anyway.
Surprises didn't work well with Rilla, so surprising her took careful planning. It meant parking down the street from the concert hall to go have dinner, while silently keeping track of time and letting the restaurant know ahead of time. I figured it all out in the end but it was a constant worry.
"Come this way, there are some Christmas lights this way," I tell her, her hand it tucked into my arm. "It's pretty."
"What's going on?" She asked watching all the dressed up people walk down the street. She stops at the flashing billboard. The Nutcracker dates showing, it took her a moment to realize that it was opening night.
"You said you wanted to see it," I explained.
"But tickets?" She looked at me. "Di said she got some!"
I laugh as I pull out the envelope from my inner jacket pocket. "It takes a lot of planning to try and surprise you. Di was in on it," I explain. "Why she told you to wear such a dress tonight."
She looks down at the dark green dress, just festive enough for a Christmas ballet. She checks her coat after we arrive. She sits down next to the lady beside us as she flips through the program. Still beaming as she takes a photo of the tickets. I watch her more than I do the ballet. How her face lights up from the dancing, the bear, the little kids dress up at mice and polar bears.
Things have been calmer, more natural since that first day. She trusts me enough that she lets me hold her, touch her, kiss her without much warning on my behalf when we are together.
I make dinner for her at my place the second time she comes over to my place. The house was small, but I had two spare rooms and a backyard.
She wanders around, and I can't quite understand what going on through her head. Pictures of my niece hung on the wall that Persis had sent to me. She looked at them curiously before moving on to the next.
"I had an abortion," She said out of the blue. I looked up from stirring the pot I was cooking in.
"I woke up one morning and realized that he got me pregnant. I had no other choice it seemed like. I had no money, no education, nothing not even a job."
"You did what you had to do," I find myself responding stunned by her admission. Not the admission itself but that she told me about the night she choose to leave.
"For the record, and you can probably say my mindset was is flawed, but he never raped me. Not that I know of anyway. I suppose that was the one redeeming quality he had, or that the situation had." She tells me as if she knows it's crossed my mind.
I know enough to put together a picture of what he was like. Manipulative with a tendency to turn violent when angry enough. Charming enough that she kept staying, kept believing that it wouldn't happen again. I'm rather thankful that she doesn't feel that he took advantage of her sexually. At the same time, one could only wonder what he did to make her believe such a thing?
"Anyway the clinic called and left a messaged he heard it for my follow up appointment. We fought and fought until I was screaming at him. He wasn't even mad that I got rid of it, he was mad because I didn't ask him to get rid of it. I had been so afraid he would make me have it, make it so I could never leave him." She said it so quietly, yet she recalling the memory like it wasn't even her at that point.
"That night my arm broke, I walked into the hospital. He dropped me off and pretended to go look for parking after leaving me at the door. I was crying in the emergency was they asked me what happened. One of the nurses one just looked at me and asked if my life was worth whatever was happening. I hadn't spoken to my parents since the previous Christmas. Even then it wasn't pleasant. Still, they were there the first flight they could get. They had no proof the police said, the most I could do was get a restraining order. My father yelled and yelled at them. My word against his wasn't proof, you know you don't want to believe when the law fails women. Yet it happens, happens way too often. All they did was allow me to retrieve a few personal items, clothing. A few books I had since college, some old photos of Walter and I."
"I couldn't fathom everyone at home knowing what happened. So I decided Winnipeg, the twins were here and I could hide out until I could figure out life." She explains just how she came here. I turned down the stove and walk closer to her.
"Well, I'm glad you did," I tell her pressing a kiss on her temple, in turn, she looked up at me and kissed me
"I don't deserve you," She whispers.
"You deserve much more than what I can give you," I shake my head at her.
I repeat the words often as I watch her sleep in my bed, curled up in a ball. Her long reddish hair glowing like a halo around her from the streetlight outside the window.
One night, it happened unexpectedly but never felt more right. It was far from the scenes you see in movies. Nerves truly got the better of us. It was like being an awkward fumbling teenager all over again as we figure out contraception and what works for us.
She's silent afterwards, so quiet as I can hear her thinking to herself.
"Are you all right?" I asked hesitantly worried that she would bolt and I would awaken alone. Instead, she kisses me sweetly then yawning as she curls into me.
"I'm perfect, you were perfect," she said quietly.
I fall asleep with some sort of daydream in my head. I can picture us growing together in this very house. Imagining her making it her own over time. Having our families over for holidays and special occasions like her graduation from college.
Little did I know in two years, it would become a reality as we became engaged. My ring sparkling on her finger, in routine in her own strange way she gave me one as well. A white gold band with small feather-like etchings around it. The house I bought as a bachelor grew into a family home, she made it home.
I carried her over the threshold, both of us laughing the day after our small city hall wedding. Nothing large or elaborate, family and a few key friends.
By the end of five years, we welcomed our first child. A daughter who looked so much like her mother. I felt my heart be swallowed up the first time she opened her eyes and looked at me. Wallis, after Walter she ended up being named, though commonly known as Alli to the family. Followed by a son another two years later, a sweet boy who we named after my father Owen.
They say your life begins the day you are born, and maybe it does but I also know. My life began the day she entered it.