OOM: Visit to Toronto

[noteful]

It's been so long since she called her sister that she has to look up the number.

It's a wonder Kim doesn't decide it's a prank call and hang up, in the silence that stretches between "Hello?" and "It's Meg."

It's a very short conversation; Kim was right, this isn't the sort of thing you discuss over the phone.

It's an understatement to say that John and Deirdre Ford are surprised when Meghan announces she's like to go to Toronto on Saturday to see her older sister.

"I just need to talk to Kim," Meg says, and that's all she offers by way of explanation. She can tell they're trying to be pleased or hopeful, but are actually kind of worried. Still, early on Saturday morning, her father drives her to the station, kisses her cheek and tells her to have a good trip, and waves through the window as the train leaves.

Two years ago -- maybe even one year ago -- a trip to Toronto to see Kim would have been cause for excitement and celebration and Meg would have chatted about it with the conductor and the man with the snack trolley and the woman across the aisle, would have willed the train to go faster.

But today . . . today she's silent, except for a perfunctory exchange of greetings with the conductor when she hands over her ticket. She sits, and wonders when trains started going so fast, and the closer the train gets to Toronto, the more tense her shoulders get, tight and defensive, like she's expecting someone to hit her. And, despite the fact that she brought a book to read, she just watches out the window.

A landscape viewed from a train is a curious thing. You can get a good look at things only when they are far away. The things that are right up next to the tracks flash by too quickly, you're past them as soon as you've identified them, and if you try to focus on any one thing, you miss a dozen others.

But distance from a thing gives you time to see it. Perspective.

Of course, distance creates its own problems, too.

This may yet be a terrible idea.

Kim's directions are clear and precise, and Meghan has no trouble finding her way from the station to the cafe at which the sisters are meeting. She hesitates, though, before she squares her shoulders and pushes open the door, scanning the tables for that white hair she still has to consciously remind herself Kim has now.

Comments

[noteful]

Yes. But Kim won't like them.

Meg waits several more seconds.

"Have you told Mom and Dad any of it?"

[bannion_sight]

She shakes her head.

"Not yet."

Which is significantly different from a simple 'no,' as it turns out.

[noteful]

"But you're going to?"

Meg looks away and doesn't look back as she continues. "I think I've got them worried.

"No, I know I've got them worried."

[bannion_sight]

"I was planning to, yeah," she says, quietly.

A pause.

"I'm guessing you haven't said anything to them."

[noteful]

Meg shakes her head. "No.

"I didn't begin to know how, and anyway, a lot of it feels more like your story than mine. Wasn't sure how fair it would be to . . .

"God, I hate this."

[bannion_sight]

"I know," Kim says, very softly.

What else is there to say? To make it easier?

It seems that nothing in her life, once touched by Fionavar, has ever been easy.

Then again, how could it be?

She shakes her head once, and simply repeats,

"I know."

[noteful]

"I hate . . . I hate how much this feels like some kind of . . . armitace on neutral ground."

Which is to say, You're my sister. How the hell did we let it get to this?

[bannion_sight]

"Well, in a way it is," she says.

"It doesn't have to be, though."

[noteful]

"And I'm trying. Just . . . don't rush me, Kim."

It took over a year to make this mess. It's probably going to take more than a cup of coffee to fix it.

[bannion_sight]

She doesn't let herself sigh.

"Okay, Meghan."

Patience is something that's always been difficult for Kim Ford, but sometimes it's sorely necessary.

Like now.

[noteful]

"And don't call me 'Meghan,'" she says, but there's a hint of a smile there, an annoyance that's mostly jest and echoes from years of Meg objecting to whatever Kim had just told her to do.

[bannion_sight]

"Okay."

Kim grins at her.

"Megs."

[noteful]

Meg rolls her eyes.

"Kimmie."

[bannion_sight]

She winces, laughing.

"Ouch. I'd hoped you'd forgotten that one."

[noteful]

"No such luck. Sorry."

Meghan doesn't forget much.

That's part of the problem.

"How does Bran Davies fit into that whole story?"

[bannion_sight]

Kim's smile fades.

"Um."

She takes a careful breath, glancing around to make sure that there really isn't anyone in earshot.

"It's a little complicated. Um. You know he's from a different world, right?"

[noteful]

"Different Earth, right?

"God, that sounded even stranger than it did in my head."

[bannion_sight]

"A different Earth, right."

Kim's smile flickers, but not more than that. This, then, will be the true challenge -- this part of the story, which Paul had left for her to tell.

And rightfully so, she thinks, even as the weight settles back on her shoulders and on her heart. Rightfully so; even as she had summoned the Warrior, so she should carry the responsibility as well of bearing the tale to those who must hear it.

Including her sister.

"Bran's... pretty special, Meg. He's got a -- I guess you'd call it a distinguished lineage, or something of the sort."

[noteful]

"Okay," says Meg slowly, fairly certain that it would never have occurred to her to use the phrase 'distinguished lineage' at all, let alone for someone she knows.

[bannion_sight]

"He's ..."

A pause, and Kim wraps her fingers more tightly around her coffee cup.

"Did he ever mention that he was adopted?"

[noteful]

Meghan shakes her head.

"I don't think so. No."

[bannion_sight]

It figures, she doesn't say.

Kim sighs.

"He, um. He is."

There's a beat of silence before she adds, very quietly,

"His mother's name is Guinevere."

Oh, Jen.

"And his father was Arthur Pendragon."

[noteful]

There's a very long moment in which Meg can't manage to do anything but stare.

"You mean . . . you mean swords in stones and round table and holy grail Arthur, don't you?"

[bannion_sight]

Kim nods.

[noteful]

She's trying -- oh how she's trying -- to say this as calmly and nonjudgmentally as she can.

"But . . . but, Kim, that doesn't make any sense. He's from the 70's. In Wales."