I love the way she feels in my arms, the way she sounds when she speaks, the looks that express exactly how she feels about me without having to say a word, but most of all, I love the way she mother’s my son, the way he deserves and needs a mother.  Amelia has no clue what she’s done for me in the past two and a half months since her permanent return to Port Hope.  It seemed so quick to be feeling so strong but thinking back, we had grown up together and were inseparable as young children.  I loved her then.  Heck, despite our high school quarrel, I lusted after her.  When I lost her, I never thought I’d have the opportunity to make a mends.  Never once did I think that after such a short time after being reunited, that not only would we have made a mends, but that I genuinely saw my entire life flash before my eyes when I gazed into those liquid blue pools of hers.  To truly see yourself, and no, not a reflection of yourself, but literally see the movie of your life passing before your eyes, in the eyes of the person you love; I didn’t think love like this existed.

“I’m going to marry you some day soon.”  I say and close my eyes, taking her feel, her scent and the next few words in.

“I can’t wait.”  She whispers back.

The next day, I figured I’d jump start our day with a nice breakfast.  I let Amelia sleep in knowing all too well she deserved it.  I only wished that I wasn’t as clumsy in the kitchen as I normally am.  I had been blessed by some of my mother’s talents in the cooking department, or so I’ve been told, but I was a klutz to boot.  My fears were proven when I opened up a cupboard, trying to find my necessary dishes when I managed to knock the entire stack of pans out of the cabinet and to the floor.  Cursing under my breath, I quickly placed the pans where they belonged and wondered aloud.

“How many more pans does one person need in a stinking household?”  I ask myself aloud without realizing that I now had an audience.

“I’m sorry.  I just haven’t gotten around to getting rid of the clutter in some of these cabinets.”  I heard softly.  I straightened myself up and looked over the counter, in her direction and saw Amelia standing there with a smirk on her face.  “With the way you’re carrying on, you’d swear there was a whole army up in here.  Where’s Aiden?”

“He’s still in his room.”  I tell her, coming around to get my morning hug.  “I’m sorry I woke you.  I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

“I know you will.”  She looks me in the eye and smiles.  “You always do.”  She came around the island and headed for the coffee machine.  Reaching into the cabinet above, she pulled out two coffee mugs and filled both up and handed me mine as I continued preparing our breakfasts.  After asking if I needed help for the third time in the last five minutes, I excommunicated her from the kitchen.  Moments later, I heard the soft beginnings of a classical piece I hadn’t heard in years.  I found myself smiling because I knew that she felt joy whenever she played the piano.  I thought it sad that she had sacrificed that part of herself for so long because of the loss she had suffered.  It’s like she refused to feel joy through her music because those she lost weren’t able to be there with her to enjoy it alongside her.  As I got myself into a cooking rhythm, I heard the discernible beginnings of The Beatles’ Let It Be.  I found myself in a daze listening to her beautiful voice as she began to sing the lyrics to the infamous song and never noticed my son, sneaking up on me.  The tug on my pant leg snapped me out of my imaginary visual.  Aiden had asked me where the music was coming from and I had to show him for myself.  He followed me to the den when he realized that Amelia was the one making the music.  He started jumping around as she played, making her smile and her voice crack as she tried to stifle her laughs.  When she finished, he ran up to her, begging for her for a try and show him how to play.

“Good luck!”  I tell her as she hadn’t quite realized what the task she just undertook held for her.

“What do you mean?”  She asked me.

“The only kind of art us Masterson’s are good at is the art of cooking and of making…”  I stopped there, remembering that my son was present.  Amelia got the drift and blushed slightly.

“We’ll see about that.”  She looked down at Aiden who now sat on the bench beside her.  “I’m sure we can turn you into a world famous concert pianist in no time!”  I hear as I had turned to head back to the kitchen and finish our food.  I finished as I listened to Aiden learn some notes.  As I called them to the table, I heard Amelia telling him that she’d test him again after breakfast to see if he had managed to remember the notes.

“Just the white ones, right?”  Aiden said and Amelia laughed lightly.

“Yeah.  Only the white ones buddy.”  She said as they came through the entryway.

“Regretting your decision, yet?”  I teased Amelia when we were all seated at the table together.

“Not one bit.”  She says.  “I will shock and amaze you, just you watch.”  And I had to laugh at her statement.

“You already do, my love.”  I tell her, reaching for her hand over the tabletop.   “You put up with me every day.”

Amelia had opted to stay home and keep Aiden entertained as I went over to my house and packed some stuff in some old empty boxes.  I figured I’d start off small by bringing my clothes over along with my other necessities.  I had begun taking down a few of the frames that held the pictures that meant the most to me, including other mementos and packing those away so I could have those at my disposal right away.  Once my boxes were filled to the point of spilling over, I headed back to the car; packing them in.  Looking forward to another afternoon of fun with my family, I rushed back to Amelia’s house.  No one could prepare me for what I witnessed.

As I walked up to the porch, my son came barreling through the front door, at a speed I hadn’t ever seen him fly before.  I caught him in time before he would surely take a tumble down the front steps.  There he was, crying hysterically.

“Aiden?”  I sat there stunned, wondering what the hell had happened.  “What’s going on?”  And that’s when I heard a horrific cry from the inside of the house.  “Stay right here, okay?  Don’t move a muscle.” 

“Amelia’s hurting Daddy.”  I hear him say.  Hurt?  And then a scene from yesterday floated through my mind.

“Stay right here.”  I tell him again and rush inside.  There, collapsed on the den floor, I found Amelia, crouched over herself, arms wrapped around her abdomen, crying and writhing in what looked like horrible and quite unbearable pain.  I instinctively went to grab her bridal style and set her down gently on the couch.  That’s when Amelia and I both froze, looking at one of my hands.  The hand that had reached below her butt was now covered with blood.  Judging by Amelia’s face, I knew that this was a serious problem.  I could literally see her face paling by the minute; unsure because it was the pain, the shock or blood loss.  I instinctively ran to the kitchen and washed my hands quickly and reached into my back pocket, grabbing my cell phone to call 911.  Once I had confirmation that they were on their way, I called my parents and sent Aiden running for their house.

“Amelia?”  I say as I start seeing she’s starting to writhe with pain again.  “Amelia, tell me what I can do.”

“J-just hold me please.”  She tells me with a slight stutter.  “Something’s n-not right.  It hurts!”

“I know, Baby.”  I tell her, cradling her head in my chest void of any idea on what I should do at this point other than try my best at offering her any kind of comfort.

The paramedics had arrived and ordered me to take the car and meet them at the hospital’s Emergency Room.  I jumped in my car and sped most of the way there.  I arrived, parked the car and ran for the ER.  I wasn’t a doctor and I wasn’t about to jump to conclusions but I was pretty sure that massive inexplicable pain and bleeding didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture.  I found myself thinking of the worse and hoping for the best.  Nearly an hour after our arrival, the nurse finally came to get me, allowing me to see her.

She lay on her back, head elevated, looking like she had regained some color.  They had managed to stop the bleeding and gave her a mild sedative to keep her mind off of the pain.  They had a battery of tests they wanted to run on her but they were waiting for the blood-work to come back so they knew a bit more about what they were dealing with.  I sat on the chair next to her bed and reached for her hand.

“Amelia, if you can hear me, I love you.”  I say softly so she and I would be the only ones able to hear.

“Love you.”  I hear faintly and then feel her hand squeeze mine.  She was still sleeping but it was still reassuring that things weren’t as grim as they might have seemed.  What felt like an eternity but turned out to be an hour and a half later, I felt a gentle hand massaging my scalp through my hair.