Sometimes good news is hard to give. Sometimes opportunity comes with pain. Such the way of things, in the Stolen Garden.
Today, after her rehearsal, Morgan returned to her apartment singing softly to herself. The rehearsal went well, and she was happy.
The singing stopped when she found Brooke sitting silently at their kitchen table. Morgan could feel as easily as I could the tension in the air. It was this tension that called me to be with them, to be ready.
Brooke looked up from the table and smiled at Morgan. “Hey babe. You want to sit down?”
Morgan’s mind was flitting back and forth, trying to think of bad news that might elicit this seriousness, this waiting. “Sure,” she said, though she wanted to run. She came into the room and sat down, then, because she couldn’t bear not to, she reached her hands across the table. Some of the fear she felt was alleviated when Brooke immediately took them; some of it returned when she felt the tight, anxious grip of Brooke’s fingers.
“I’m a coward,” Brooke began, staring down at Morgan’s hands.
Morgan’s response to this was a brief snort, and it made Brooke smile. She glanced up at her girlfriend’s face, and then her eyes stayed there, memorizing Morgan’s features.
“I am, though,” she went on. “At least in this case. I should have talked to you about this weeks ago, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry for that.”
She went quiet, and her eyes went back to their conjoined hands.
After a moment, Morgan said, “Well I forgive you. But you know you have to tell me now or I’m going to slap you.”
Brooke laughed, and it gave her courage. Quietly, with me standing behind her to give her strength, she told Morgan about the job offer she had received. It is a position on a team doing an extensive study of cities across the nation and even abroad, examining how those cities function, how their parts add up into the whole, how they compare with one another. Even despite her constant awareness of the consequences of taking this position, there was an undercurrent of excitement in Brooke’s voice as she described the study. I made certain that Morgan heard that excitement, even as she began to realize those consequences, too.
When Brooke paused, Morgan asked, “How long would you be gone?”
Brooke’s shoulders hunched, and I wrapped one wing around her. “Six months,” she murmured. “I’d go in July.”
Morgan nodded slowly. Now she was the one looking deeply into Brooke’s face. “You want to go,” she said, a small smile on her face.
Brooke’s head snapped up. “I want to be with you,” she said. Her hands tightened. “That’s more important. I’ve waited too long to be with you to give it up now.”
“Oh, honey.” Morgan got to her feet, came around, and sat in Brooke’s lap, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. For a moment they just held one another.
“Do you think you’ll get the job?” Morgan asked after a moment.
Brooke hid her face in Morgan’s shoulder. “Steve says I already have it. I, uh, kinda actually applied, two weeks ago. I didn’t think I was going to get it, and I wasn’t going to say anything unless I did, but—”
“But you have. Well, honey, that’s great.” Morgan was trying to sound excited, but her voice shook, and Brooke tightened her grip.
“I told them I had to sleep on it,” Brooke said. “And if you don’t want me to—”
“Of course you should go,” Morgan said.
Brooke looked up, and Morgan smiled, cupping her hand under her chin. I leaned closer, doing what I could to feed her pride and love while suppressing her fear and uncertainty. “Baby, you are with me,” she said. “And that’s not going to change, even if you’re not here. This kind of study will be amazing for you, for your career—and you’ve been so supportive of me, what kind of person would I be if I held you back now?”
Brooke stared at her, afraid to feel relieved. “Are you sure?”
Morgan kissed her, very lightly. “It doesn’t mean I won’t miss you every second,” she added, tears clinging to her lashes.
Brooke leaned up to kiss her again, proving with touch and breath how much she agreed with the sentiment. There were tears, then, and much more talk, and a brief period where I had to excuse myself, but I am satisfied that all is resolved, for now. In the summer, Brooke will go, and the two will maintain their relationship at a distance.
It will be difficult, both with the departure looming before them and with the distance stretching out between them. I will have to be near to both hearts, to keep them. But this is a promising beginning, the decision made with acceptance and peace between them. I have hope that they will survive the trial, and come out stronger and more closely bonded because of it. I will, of course, keep you informed.