Like any good daughter, I completely forgot to inform my mother of our impromptu voyage across the Confederation Bridge. Unlike our first visit at Christmas, I had no intention of surprising her this time. I can’t say exactly what I was thinking when I ran in the front door and kicked my shoes off, Sid following behind with our bags. The house was unusually quiet and I was alarmed to find both the living room and kitchen empty. I motioned for Sid to take our bags up to my old bedroom and called out for someone. When I was met with no response I started to panic: it wasn’t uncommon for the front door to be unlocked, but with both cars in the driveway and the lights on in the house there was no way they’d gone out. My father’s study and the laundry room were also vacant and I felt my mind going down the chaotic path of worry. Had they been murdered? Kidnapped? Had they run away? Logic told me I was being ridiculous but my overactive imagination had far more influence. Frantically, I hurried to the only other place in the house they could be.
“Mum!” I cried when I saw her sitting at the desk in her office with her back to the door. I rushed over and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.
“Jezus christ!” She screamed, jumping a solid foot in the air and pulling the earbuds out of her ears. Startled by her reaction, I let go with a shriek. “Beatrice Keller what are you doing?” She said breathlessly, her hand on her chest.
“The house was quiet, I thought maybe someone you’d died or something,” I shrugged, perfectly aware of how insane I sounded.
“Well you damn near killed me there!” she shook her head annoyed, then stood up to greet me. “Have you never heard of calling?” she pulled me tight against her.
“I promise I didn’t plan it this time,” I laughed with my head against her shoulder. "What did you do to your hair?" She took a loose chunk of my bleach blonde hair between her finger and looked at me in horror.
"It's a long story," I shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "Spur of the moment decision really."
"An interesting choice," she wrinkled her nose. "I do wish you'd leave your hair alone though, do you even remember your natural colour?" she brushed her fingers through my loose curls.
"It's just hair," I rolled my eyes. "I'll probably change it again before the end of the summer anyway."
"You have such beautiful hair, stop trying to murder it," she pat my cheek affectionately and tucked the hair behind my ear.
"Where's Daddy?" I changed the subject to avoid anymore comments about my appearance.
“He’s babysitting Lyla while JJ and Mindy have dinner,” she replied, referring to my eldest brother and his wife. “ I was supposed to go but I’m almost done this chapter and I couldn’t risk losing my motivation,” she pointed to the computer where a document was open. On the outside my mother appeared to be just like any other woman in her late fifties. Her red hair, now streaked with grey, fell past her shoulders and curled softly. She wore her usual flowing tunic and leggings with gold hoop earrings and no makeup. But despite her average, slightly bohemian appearance, my mother was like no one I had ever met; because while she was just ‘mum’ to me, to the rest of Canada she was Shirley K. Keller: award winning novelist. She’d written seven books, hundreds of short stories, been interviewed by the CBC more times than I could remember, and received the acclaimed Giller Prize. But like Sidney was just my boyfriend, Shirley Keller was just my mother.
“What are you working on?” I perched myself on the edge of her desk like I’d done countless times in the days of my youth.
“A new piece. So far it’s about a woman in 1963 who kills her family and gets away with it,” she sat back down on the puffy office chair and put her bright red reading glasses on.
“What about the one with the siamese twins?” I glanced at the screen and tried to read few lines before she closed the document and shot me a look of warning. She hated people reading her work in progress.
“It’s still going, but I want to get this one out first,” she shut the lid of her laptop and leaned back in the chair, resting her hands on her lap. “So did you come alone?” she searched my face for answers.
“Right!’ I jumped up from the desk and ran out the door and turned the corner to find Sidney standing there patiently. “I promise I didn’t forget you,” I laughed.
“You’d forget your name if it wasn’t sewn into the back of your underwear,” he teased pat me on the head. “I’m not offended.”
“Hello Sir!” I heard my mother beam from behind me. She nudged me out of the way to get to Sid and gave him an awkward hug. I could have sworn she was blushing. “It’s nice to see you again,” she pat him on the arm affectionately.
“You too Mrs. Keller,” Sid smiled politely. “I’m sorry we didn’t call.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble,” my mother waved him off with a smiled. “And please call me Shirley.”
I shot Sidney a look of amusement as my mother fawned over him. I guess I couldn't be surprised if she liked him more than she liked me. In fact it was probably a good thing, much better than the years I spent listening to her express her polite distaste for Millie.
"I hope you don't mind I put our bags in Bea's old room," Sid reached for my hand like it was a life raft. My mother was hardly scary, and her obvious approval gave him little reason to uncomfortable. But just as I wanted to impress his parents, I imagined he felt the same about mine.
"No, no, that's prefect," she grinned. "Are you hungry? Can I get you a drink? That must have been an awfully long drive," she took his arm and lead him towards the kitchen. I didn't follow and he was forced to let go of me, shooting a confused look at me before moving down the hall.

I only felt slightly guilty when I left Sidney in the kitchen with my mother and headed up to my bedroom. I hadn't lived at home for years, but that room still felt like mine. When John moved out, his room became a library, when Simon left home his turned into a gym, Andy's became a generic guest room, but mine. Mine stayed the same. My brother's teased that it was because everyone suspected I'd move back home and spend my thirties living with my parents again, but I think my mother knew how important the four walls were to me. So much had happened on that very bed that I sat on, so many nights spent staring at the ceiling and studying the map on the wall. I had the only room on the top floor with a window you could safely climb out of-- something I knew first hand--and the only door that didn't actually lock properly.

From my spot on the bed I reached for the hiding place between the bed frame and the wall, pulling out the black journal that had been there for most of its life. When we left at Christmas I'd considered bringing it to Pittsburgh with me, but something told me it needed to stay where it had always been.
"You're horrible," Sid glared at me dramatically when he walked in the door.
"She's not that bad," I laughed. "She really likes you."
"The whole time we were talking I kept worrying I'd say something completely inappropriate and ruin everything," he sighed and sat down beside me.
"You talk to important people all the time," I eyed him.
"Yeah, but reporters and the media are way less intimidating than your parents," he shook his head.
"Whatever you say," I smiled and flipped through the journal in my hands, stopping on a day written in purple gel pen.

April 1st 2005
This is not a joke. This is not a drill. This is real life.
Tonight Serena and I drove to Montague to her cousin Misty's house. Misty is like 24 and has a kid with this guy from the QMJL but no one knows who he is. Anyway we went there because she invited us to this party she was having. We were both stoked because it meant we'd be able to pick up weed from the guy who lives in the basement of the house. Super creepy guy, but nice enough. Anyway, we walked in ready to maybe have a few drinks or something, but instead of bottles and like music and smoke, the usual stuff at parties, the place was full of women and there was a table of like... stuff. Like adult stuff. Like dirty adult stuff. It was insane. We basically sat there the whole time trying not to giggle as Misty's friend like demonstrated how all these electronic things worked and passed them around for us to see. God there is some weird shit in the world. I tried to play it off super cool like I was uninterested because I couldn't tell how S felt. After the demonstrations we went to visit the basement guy and got what we came for, when we were heading back to the party Serena told me she wanted to buy something! Like something like that! I told her thank god because I did too. We both dropped like $40 and left right away, not bothering to stop and smoke before going home.
Well let me just say, that was $40 well spent! I didn't think I could ever in my life ever feel like that! Holy shit! I thought Jack was like okay at whatever he did with his hands and stuff, but this is something else. Jack will never live up to this. Is this what happiness feels like? Because I don't think it gets any better. Last week I asked Jack if he wanted to do it, like all the way and he said eventually then changed the subject. Sometimes I wonder why I'm with him. He's such a prep. Travis says he's probably gay anyway. I don't think so though because when I told him I sometimes think about girls he told me that was a sin. I told him so was abortion but that didn't stop his sister. We didn't talk for a few days after that. Whatever, if Jack won't sleep with me maybe Travis will. Ugh, that would be so good! He's so hot! Like when we kissed last summer after drinking a two-six of whiskey I thought I was going to melt. I'll never be hardcore enough for him, the last girl he dated plays in a band, I don't even play guitar for my friends let alone on stage. Whatever. I'm moving in a few months anyway.
I'm not going to university a virgin though. I swear to god.
-B

"Wait, were you talking about that guy who did the tattoos on you?" Sid asked, having read the entry over my shoulder.
"Yup," I kept my eyes on the page, nervous to face him.
"Oh," he sounded disappointed. " I didn't know you were into guys like that."
"Guys like what?" I slowly turned my head towards him.
"I don't know, he's just one of those cool guys. With the tattoos and the studded jackets and stuff." He was blushing, for the first time in our relationship I noted a hint of jealousy in his tone.
"I've liked lots of different people, Sweetie," I leaned into him, taking his hand in mine.
"Did you sleep with him?" he asked quietly. For once I couldn't read his expression and it was driving me insane. I could usually predict his reaction to something, or at least have an idea of what he was feeling.
"Yes," I said honestly without hesitation. I had nothing to be ashamed of. "More than once," I offered.
"Okay," he nodded calmly. He wasn't upset, I knew that much. And realistically he had no reason to be jealous, I was with him.
"Should we be talking about numbers?" I asked gently, trying to gauge his emotions.
"That might be a good idea," he shift so we were facing each other, still holding onto my hand.
"Okay," I looked down at my lap, regretting the suggestion. I hadn't expected him to say yes. I couldn't help but worry he'd judge me by the end of the conversation. "You go first."
"Right," he nodded, blushing to the tips of his ears. "Uhm...you're uh... you're number seventeen." I could hear the uneasiness in his voice, neither of us attempted to make eye contact. The idea of Sidney sleeping with anyone else make me anxious, not because I was jealous or worried i'd lose him, it just make me queazy. Those were my hands, my lips, my arms, my back, my legs, he was mine and I didn't want to imagine anyone else enjoying him the way I did.
"Seventeen," I repeated, letting the number sink it. It wasn't a shocking amount. I'd heard of players with far more notches in their bed posts. "Do I know any of them?" I asked before I could help myself.
"I don't think so," he shook his head. "Do you want me to tell you if you do?" He asked the loaded question. If he didn't tell me I'd go crazy every time we bumped into a girl he knew, but if he did tell me I'd spend hours imagining it.
"I think so," I bit my lip nervously. It was better to know, easier to get over the idea if I knew for sure. "Do you want to know?"
"Yeah," he didn't hesitate. "Full disclosure."
"We'll you've already met three excluding yourself," I smiled, trying to break the tension.
"Out of how many?" I could see he was holding his breath.
"Uhm.. fourteen," I mumbled. I wasn't so much ashamed of my past as I was feeling awkward about telling Sidney. "Three women..."
"Fourteen," he said slowly, letting it mull over. "Will you tell me about them?" His question caught me off guard and I stared at him in shock.
"I guess," I shrugged, trying to play it cool and moved to lay on the bed.
"Maybe just some of them," Sid joined me and lay with his head on my chest like a little boy about to hear a bed time story.
"Well, you already know about Jack right?" I ran my fingers through his hair and began.
"Mhm," his eyes were closed and his hands folded on his stomach.
"After I broke up with Jack and decided relationships were horrible I went a little wild before leaving for school. That's where Travis comes in, and his friends Teigh and Mitch. I hung around them in high school. Then there were a few people in New Brunswick, a girl name Kiera, and a guy named Tom who I dated for a while but it wasn't anything serious." I twirled a piece of his hair around my finger and tried to ignore who weird the whole conversation was. "Oh and then things got really scandalous and I slept with a girl I met at a party who ended up being my T.A a few weeks later and I had no idea until she walked into the class. That was exciting, but it didn't stop us from fooling around for a few months."
"Did you get an A in the course at least?" Sid laughed, looking up at me under his thick eyelashes.
"B+ I think. I can't complain," I smiled down at him. "When I came home the summer before my last year Travis and I were together for a few months. But I promise when it ended that August it ended for good and you have nothing to worry about," I said clearly to reenforce how true it was. Travis would forever be my friend, nothing more and the idea of Sidney worrying about that made my skin crawl.
"I get it," he smiled and reached up to squeeze my hand. "Keep going."
"That year was pretty boring, I think I slept with Teigh when I came home for Christmas but other than that I was so focused on school I didn't have time to date. There were two guys in Philadelphia before I met Millie, but after I met Millie it was all her. I know she had other people during our breaks but I only wanted her. When that was over and Serena and I moved to Pittsburgh there was one guy but it was only once, I was still a bit of a mess from Millie. And then I met you and lived happily ever after," I grinned.
"And then you slept with Max," he added with a smirk.
"Which you said you were okay with," I reminded him.
"I am," he assured me. "I just think it's weird. I mean thinking about you being with him, being with anyone else really.” He looked up at me with his strong trusting eyes and smiled. Neither of us was looking for a fight and knowing that made it easy to disclose everything. In a way, having told him made it all seem irrelevant, like I was a completely different person.
“You should probably not think about it too hard,” I laughed and smoothed his hair away from his forehead. “For both our sakes.”

Insisting my mother finish her chapter, we left her in the big quiet house and walked down the dusty red road to surprise my father. Hoping he’d have a better reaction, I knocked once on the front door before pushing it open and letting myself in. The clock on the foyer wall read 8:00pm and I hoped Lyla was staying up past her bedtime.
“Dad?” I called out, into yet another seemingly empty house.
“Bathroom,” I heard him call back, likely not knowing who he was responding too.
I headed up the stairs with Sidney in tow and could hear the splashing and giggles of bath time as we approached the door. It was open and I could see my dad sitting on edge of the tub while Lyla played with an assortment of plastic toys, babbling on the whole time.
“Heyyyyy Lyla,” I sang, standing in the doorway.
“BEA!” She screeched, dropping the Barbie in her hand and clamouring to get out of the bathtub.
“Lyla!” I cried back, bending down to catch her wet little body as she propelled herself towards me. “A stars about to fall, so what d’you say Lyla?” I sang with her as we danced around the bathroom. It was no secret she’d been named after the Oasis song and I took every opportunity I could to make sure she knew it. It was my duty as her aunt to expose her to goof music and I took the job very seriously.
“Heyyy Lala,” she giggled, the water from her skin and hair soaking through my shirt.
“Hi Daddy,” I turned, still rocking her.
“Hey Bumble, when did you get here?” He smiled and stood up, giving me a one armed hug and kissing the side of my head.
“A few hours ago,” I shrugged.
“Is your mother in one piece this time?” he laughed and handed me a towel.
“She’ll be alright,” I laughed and wrapped the pink towel around Lyla. “You remember Sidney?” I looked back to see Sid standing in the doorway smiling.
“Oh I think so,” my father chuckled and held his hand out to Sid. “How are you doing, big guy?” he asked, pulling him into a hug.
“Pretty good, Sir,” Sid smiled, revealing the chunk of missing teeth.
“Makes you look tougher,” my dad clapped him on the back and grinned.
“Do you remember Sid?” I asked Lyla, who blushed and buried her head into my neck. It was comforting to know that he had that affect on women of all ages. Sid smiled at her warmly and I felt my stomach flutter.
“Why don’t you read Miss. Lyla a story while I have a chat with Sidney?” My dad suggested, and I turned to Sid who nodded in approval. If he felt comfortable enough to have one on one conversations with both of my parents in one night I wasn’t going to stand in his way.

After drying both of us off and braiding Lyla’s wet hair into french pigtails, she picked out her favourite pyjamas and crawled into bed. Her pink bedding was a contrast to the bright orange Flyers pyjamas she’d chosen, she was truly a Keller child and her choice made me swell with pride. Together we read two Beatrix Potter stories from the complete tales collection I bought when she was born.
“Say ‘night to Grandpa,” she declared after finishing The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and climbing out of bed.
“Well I suppose we can make that happen,” I smiled and she held up her arms to me.
We tiptoed down the stairs, Lyla with her head resting on my shoulder and me hoping to hear some of the conversation between Sidney and my father. They were in the living room sitting casually and laughing. I felt a welcome sense of relief when I heard Sidney’s genuine chuckle, there was no way he’d be chuckling if my father was threatening his life, although I couldn't actually see my father threatening anyone.
“We just wanted to say goodnight,” I said loudly as we entered the room so they wouldn’t know I’d been trying to listen.

“Goodnight sweetheart,” my father stood up and kissed Lyla on the forehead, hugging us both before I turned to leave. Sidney smiled and waved, obviously hesitant to scare her. But before we could leave the room, Lyla wiggled around to face Sidney and held her arms out to him. It was a simple gesture that proved her feelings towards him, I had the Lyla seal of approval, and I really couldn’t ask for more. Sid grinned and took her in his arms, her cozy Flyers jammies making him grimace then laugh. With her thumb in her mouth, Lyla rest her head against his shoulder and sighed, just as comfortable in his embrace as she was in mine. I watched him holding her against his chest, his hand protectively on her back, and couldn’t hold back the rolling thunder of emotion that came over me. My eyes prickled with tears and it felt like I’d never seen anything so perfect in my life. No sunset, no ocean view, no rose garden had ever been as beautiful as the image of him holding her sleepy little body and grinning.

Notes

Oh Beatrice and her great bursts of emotion.
I think Shirley Keller might be my new favourite character to write.

So I'm nearly at 100,000 reads between Mibba and Hockey Fan Fiction! Thank you to every single one of you who reads or comments or sends me vibes. Your support has been my main inspiration and I couldn't have ever gotten this far without it! We're nearly at the one year anniversary and I can't believe it. Don't worry, there is plenty more on the way, Beatrice wouldn't let me quit even if I wanted to (which I don't)

xx-T