Sing a Healing Song, Chapter 11

Several hours later, my alarm woke me, and I ran to the washroom to take a quick shower, being careful to keep my hair from getting wet. Then I went to my room, and pulled out the dress out of my closet.

It seemed rather cute for something that had caused so much trouble ...

I heard a knock at my door, and then Mom’s voice asking, “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

She came in, sat on my bed, and said, “You sure you’re okay with doing this, sweetie? Its not too late to change your mind.”

“I think I have to, mom. I cant spend the rest of my life being afraid of dresses.”

I took a deep breath, and slipped into the dress. Mom came behind me and started zippering me up while steering me toward the mirror. I looked ...

“Oh ... wow.” I managed.

“Oh wow, indeed. You’re beautiful, Fiona.”

Its probably stupid to think a pretty girl looks better in a dress, but I really had trouble disagreeing with my mom ...

With my mom at my side, I came out of my room to find my dad waiting for us in the kitchen.

“Holy cats, Fiona!: He exclaimed.

“I pass muster, then?” I said, coming up to give him a hug.

“I’d say so. I think I need to invest in some serious firepower to keep the boys off you.”

“Some of the girls too.” My mom added with a smile.

My dad put his fingers in his ears and said, “La la la, I’m not listening ...”

Both Mom and I giggled.

We had a breakfast of toast, cereal, and orange juice, then I put on heels for the second time in my life (the first was when Mom had bought them for me the other day), and then we piled into Dad’s car and took off for church.

Rather than the church of my childhood (and of my nightmare last night), we went downtown to a church called McDougal United. The building itself is a historical landmark, one of the oldest buildings in Edmonton still in use, but the friendly, open, and relaxed atmosphere the congregation projected is what drew my dad to bring us here a year and a half ago.

Normally its an older gentleman who gave out programs and welcomed us at the door, but today there was a much younger man who I suddenly realized I had seen before ...

“Andrew?” I said.

“Hey, nice to meet you again. Fiona, wasn’t it? Wow ... you look good.”

A flock of butterflies decided to pick that moment to take off inside my stomach, and you could probably read a book by the blush I was producing. I thought he’d looked good in sweats, but in a suit ... oh, boy ...

Just then my mom came up and said, “Fiona, you should introduce us to this young man.”

“Oh. Right. Mom, Dad, this is Andrew. I kinda ran him over jogging.”

Andrew smiled, and shook my mom’s hand. Then he went to my dad, and went, “I know you! You’re Mark D’Arcy! Man, I’m a big fan of yours!”

My dad, who I suspect had been practicing his “touch my daughter and I’ll plant you” look, actually blushed a little and shook Andrew’s hand.

Something about this moment pricked my new memories, so I searched them, and it turned out that in this reality, dad hadn’t quit football to look after me, but had played for another ten years, ending his on-field career as one of the best Canadian-born players ever.

I smiled at my dad, squeezed his hand, and said, “Sorry, Andrew. We better find our seats.”

“Sure. You guys gonna hang around after for coffee?”

“We normally go out for brunch after service.” Dad said.

“Too bad. I was hoping I’d get to know you, Fiona.”

I blushed again, and said, “We’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure you will too.” My mom said, “But let’s go sit down, the service is about to start.”

What followed was a pretty normal Christian service. It was Communion Sunday, so besides the normal songs and lesson from the pastor we also got to go up and take a small piece of bread, dip it into wine, and then eat it.

Once the service was over, a man came up to the microphone and said, “Don’t forget there’s a meeting of the affirm group downstairs today, and we’ll be providing lunch for those who come.”

“Affirm group?” Mom asked.

“Its the outreach group to gays, lesbians, transgender, and anybody else who normally feels unwelcome in church.” Dad replied.

“Can we stay, please? In a way, I’m kinda got some gender issues to deal with.”

“Okay, Fiona. We’ll stay.” Mom said.

We went downstairs and found the room where the group was having its meeting. They offered us sandwiches and juice, and then they had an interesting lecture on the strange near-tolerance of lesbians in Germany in the years just before the Nazis came to power.

I’m absolutely sure it was an informative speech, I just couldn’t focus on in because Andrew was there.

Once the talk was over, I managed to give Andrew my phone number while trying really hard to ignore the fact that my parents were watching. Then we said probably the world’s most awkward goodbye in history before I went back over to my folks, blushing.

“Sorry.” I managed.

“Our little girl is growing up fast.” Mom said with a smile.

“Maybe a little too fast for me. I was just getting used to the girl part.” Dad said, but then he added, “That said, Andrew seems like a nice boy, and you have nothing to be sorry for, sweetie.”

I wiped a tear from my eye, then took both of them by the hand to lead them back to the car.

We’d strapped ourselves in when Mom looked back at me from the front passenger seat, and said, “By the way, Fiona. I got a chance to speak to Andrew’s mother, and you might be interested to know he’s going to be a senior at J. Percy Page this year.”

“We’re ... gonna be going to the same school?” I stammered.

“Oh boy.” Dad and I said at the same time ...