Differences

The next day, Ryan got another letter. The day after, she got another. He must have written her everyday because the letters arrived one by one like clockwork. They were all long, all beautifully crafted on that gorgeous stationery, and all of them made Ryan feel close to him even when he was so far away. She always read them in bed and because he also mentioned something sexual, she always touched herself while reading them, while thinking of him.

He wrote of everything and of nothing. He would tell her what his mother prepared for breakfast, the way it felt to sleep in his childhood bed, how his old friends had changed, not always for the better. We wrote of his brother and his father and how the three of them would stay up late watching home movies of all their old hockey games.

It was when he wrote of his mother that Ryan struggled the most. Having lost her own it was difficult to read about their relationship. Still, she never stopped reading and started to enjoy his stories of their misadventures in her kitchen. She had been teaching him how to make linzerschnitte, krapfen, and palatschinken, all Austrian pastries that he promised to master and then fed to Ryan in bed before licking the excess sweetness from her lips.

Oh, yes, and he also wrote of them, together. He would describe what he still wanted to do with her, where and how he wanted to do it. He also wrote of things they had already done, different memories of love making he had and thought of often, so he said. His writing was almost dream like, his words full of longing and desire, rather than merely lust and loneliness. He made her ache for him, in the deepest part of her body and soul. And just when she was starting to recover, another letter would arrive and she would happily resume her place at the table of sexual starvation and suffering.

She had listened to Contessa, she no longer went out looking for sex from other men. Although, honestly, that didn’t stop her from fantasizing about every semi-attractive man she saw. She just couldn’t help it; her body was acclimated to Michael, to their regular mutual orgasms. And despite what she thought, a few days, a few weeks without him had done little to reset her body back to normal. She was ravenous for satisfaction, but she didn’t seek it from another. She just read and reread his letters, waited for the next one, thought of him as she touched herself.

Her camp was halfway over, July almost gone, as was Michael’s trip when on a Sunday she was lounging at home and there was a knock on her door.

When she pulled it open, a chipper voice nearly shattered her eardrums. “Hello, darling!”

“Jesus Christ. Did Contessa send you?”

Mackenzie stepped in and shut the door, as Ryan had abandoned her to the job and was already back in her living room on the couch. Contessa’s mother trailed behind, inspecting everything as she went.

“Honestly, Ryan, for such a beautiful, young, vibrant woman you have the worst taste in home decor.” She picked up a vintage ballerina doll from a bookcase shelf, made a disgusted face, and put it back down. “It’s not like any of this even worth anything and it’s just hideous.”

Ryan sighed and layed down on the couch, readying herself for a long lecture. “FYI, a lot of those are gifts from my students. And if you just came over here to criticize my home, please do it quickly and then get the fuck out. I’m exhausted.”

Mackenzie slapped Ryan’s thigh, indicating that she should move, which she did. She sat down next to Ryan and crossed her legs, resting her hands on her knee. “How can you be exhausted when your main source of exercise is overseas?”

“Thanks for reminding me. If you must know, my day camp lost two volunteers, so the rest of us have been pulling double duty.”

“Oh, poor darling. Well, only two more weeks, right?”

“Yes.”

“And when does Michael come home?”

“Soon after. What are you doing here?”

“I just came to see how you are.”

“I’m lovely, thanks for asking. How are you? How’s your ex-husband?”

“Brat. Do you have tea?”

Ryan sighed, knowing she was in for a long afternoon of this now. “Yes, mama. I will make some.”

In her kitchen Ryan prepared the tea, which was far less fancy than the service Mackenzie offered, but it would do. With steaming mugs, they sat on the couch together again in a comfortable silence.

That is until Contessa’s mother said, “I assume you’re bringing Michael to the wedding?”

“He’s invited, so, yeah, he’s going, I’m going.”

“Yes, but he is your significant other, no?”

“He’s my significant annoyance, but that’s about it.”

“Good, just the response I wanted, because that is why I’m here.”

“Ugh, mama! Please don’t start with me. Your daughter has already given me all I can handle in this department.”

“Too bad, because I have something to say as well.”

“Fine, get it over with.”

Mackenzie put her hand on Ryan’s arm and she met her eyes. Softly, as gently as possible, she said, “Ryan…Michael is not a man like your father. Please don’t believe he ever could be.”

The conversation was taking a turn that Ryan always wanted to avoid and she tried again now. “Mama…”

“No, please just listen. I know you’re frightened and I understand why, but you cannot spend the rest of your life living alone, being afraid of letting someone get too close.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You are, but I love you and we will get through this together.”

Ryan had to laugh. “This isn’t a democracy, you know? You and Contessa don’t get to have a vote in my relationship with him, whatever it is.”

Mackenzie smiled and patted Ryan’s knee. “No, not a vote, but we do get to say our piece. That was mine. That’s all I wanted to say about it, that you don’t need to be afraid of Michael, in anyway. And also that I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you and if you break his heart I will be very, very upset with you.”

“Ugh, he is not in love with me.”

She gave her a knowing smile and moved on. “Okay, Ryan, whatever you say. Now, about this wedding…”

Mackenzie was off and rant now, talking of the wedding that was coming up quickly and was shaping up to be a simple elegant affair (Mackenzie’s words, not Ryan’s).

“When are you and Michael flying in?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t talked about it.”

“Ah, I see. Where are you staying?”

“Also don’t know.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Mama, Jesus, I don’t know.”

“Hmm, we should go shopping.”

“No, absolutely not, no. I have dresses, I’ll wear one of those.”

“Oh, Ryan, please, you must wear something dazzling. Something that will make Michael’s heart stop in his chest when he sees you.”

“Need I remind you that Contessa is the one getting married, not me?”

“Yes, BUT, this could also be a wonderful thing for you and Michael - a weekend away, romance in the air, a secluded island town where your feelings can bloom.”

Ryan put her head in her hands and groaned. “Oh, God. This is gonna be a disaster.”

“No, darling, it is going to be magic.” Mackenzie stood and pulled on Ryan’s arm. “Come on. We’re going shopping.”

Ryan allowed herself to be pulled to her feet and said, “Why do you Higgins girls insist on making everything so damn difficult and annoying?”

“Well, we learn from the best, meaning you. Put your shoes on. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Ryan gave in, knowing there was no way to resit the woman when she was like this. She let herself be dragged to the mall by a Higgins for the second time in the last few months, only this time, she was the one who was being tortured in the dressing room.

Mackenzie wouldn’t even let Ryan look at the dresses, rather she picked them out and made Ryan try them on. This went on for hours, Ryan thought, but really, less than twenty minutes into it, Ryan emerged from the room and Mackenzie gasped.

“Holy mother of God. You look…” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re getting that one. We’re done here.”

“Are you sure? I feel kind of…slutty.”

“No, no, darling. This is revealing, yes, but so elegant. Turn around.” Ryan did as she was asked and Mackenzie nodded approvingly. “Yes, yes it has to be this one. Nothing else will do.”

“Isn’t black inappropriate for a wedding? Not that I care, but…”

“It will be perfect, trust me. Contessa is wearing yellow, so the normal wedding dress code doesn’t really apply. Plus, with your dark hair, pale skin, and resting bitch face…you like an evil queen, but in the best possible way, you know?”

Ryan took a look at herself in the mirror again, twirling around and trying to imagine what Michael will say when he sees her in this dress. If he liked the others she had worn, he was going to love this one. And evil queen…that was something she could get behind.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll get it.”

“Good. Now, sit down while I try these on. I need your opinion.”

“Ugh, mama! You tricked me.”

“Me, be deceitful? Never! Shut it and sit down. I already have a few options to show you.”

Ryan sat down in a huff, but did her duty. Mackenzie was a lot more picky when it came to her dress and it took them, literally, several hours before she finally decided on one. By the time Ryan got home, she was ready for bed, so that is right where she went.

She was awoken at about two in the morning by a ringing phone. She didn’t even check the caller id when she answered. “Someone better be dead or I am gonna make that happen myself.”

“Ah, sweetheart, I have missed your voice.”

“Raff?”

“Who else?”

“What the hell are you doing calling me at this hour?”

“Well, this is the last time I will be near a phone for a while, so I thought I better call you when I had the chance. Plus, I love how cranky you get.”

“Fucking shit.” Ryan tried to focus and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Are you leaving your parents, then?”

“Yes, my friend Matthew and I are off to Munich today, right now actually.”

“Hmm.”

“I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Raff.”

He laughed, but didn’t hang up and neither did she. “You got my letters?”

“All of them, yes. You didn’t have to write me everyday.”

“Oh, I did. It helped me cope with not seeing you everyday.”

“Cute, Raff.” He chuckled and she added, “Thank you. For writing to me. They are very entertaining and make the time go by faster.”

Ryan would never say she missed him, she would just offhandedly point out that his letters made the time go by faster. His heart warmed and he wanted to hold her so badly his body felt tense from the longing.

“I’m glad, sweetheart. There are more coming. I’ll try to write to you when I can in the next few weeks, but since I’ll be traveling around, it might be hard.”

“Don’t worry about it, write whenever. If I don’t hear from you I’ll be at the airport on the 10th to pick you up.”

She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Can’t wait.”

Now that her brain was working a bit she remembered and asked, “Are we flying to Cole Harbour, by the way? Do you need me to book tickets?”

“Actually, I thought we could drive.”

Ryan’s voice was tinged with skepticism. “Drive?”

“Yes, it’s only about fifteen hours. You and me could do that in a day if we started early.”

A road trip with Michael? Fifteen hours in a car with that man? She wanted to be sour, but that actually sounded like fun. “Yeah, alright. Let’s drive.”

He sounded truly surprised. “Yeah? Awesome. Let’s leave on the 11th then, early, six a.m.”

“Sounds like a plan, man. Right now, I’m going back to bed.”

“Perfect, you do that. Good night.”

“Good morning, Raff.”

Michael waited until she hung and then just held the receiver a moment longer. God, how he missed her. He had left in the hopes that it would spur something between them, but he was suffering so badly he didn’t think it was worth it anymore. But it had to be, he told himself it would be. Right now, though, he wanted to get to Munich so he could write to her again.

Ryan got a few more letters from his days with his parents and then got nothing for a few more days after that. Then, she got his first letter from Munich, and it was entirely in German, with one English note: “Keep yourself busy without me and translate this. Don’t use Google.”

She laughed out loud and noted that it was just as long as his other letters. “This is going to take me a while.” And that as probably the whole entire point.

She went to a bookstore that afternoon and got a German/English dictionary and started the long process of translating the letter. At one point she got so frustrated that she threw the whole mess of papers and the book on the floor and stormed out the house to go for a run.

When she came back, though, she went right back to it. The whole thing took her three days of doing nothing but working on the letter when she wasn’t teaching. When she finally read through the whole thing at once, it was worth it.

By the time she was done, another arrived, only this one was in Hungarian. Ryan wouldn’t have known what the hell language it was were it not for his note. Luckily the letter was considerably shorter than the others. “I don’t know Hungarian well and this is the extend of my knowledge. Enjoy, sweetheart.”

“Honestly, Raff, what the fuck?”

Still, she went back to the bookstore, got a Hungarian dictionary and translated this letter as well. Then, she got another one in German and it only took her two days to translate it. Then another short one in Hungarian. And then a few more in German. Finally she got one that was in German, Hungarian, and Czech.

Ryan literally screamed in frustration, but once more went out and bought a Czech dictionary and translated the goddamn letter. She was on the last sentence when there was a knock on her door.

She mumbled as she went to answer it, “Mama, if this is you I swear…”

She pulled the door open and her scowl transformed itself to a bright, wide smile.

Michael smiled back. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Notes

A little short chapter because I haven’t written enough this week… I cannot express to you how excited I am to write about their reunion and the road trip and the WEDDING! Expect good things to follow soon.