Life in Bits: A Lesbian Christmas Romance

by Harper Bliss

  Eileen closed her eyes momentarily to pull herself together. It wouldn’t suit at all to break down while shopping for a Christmas gift for her mom, the last person she wanted to buy a gift for. The moment she reopened them, a purple and teal object sitting on a glass shelf in front of her snagged Eileen’s attention. She picked it up, bringing the turtle eye-level, the little head zagging to the right, left, right, left.

  The saleswoman noticed Eileen’s interest. “Aren’t these cute? Each one is a hand-painted nut with the inside hollowed out. Kids love them. Are you shopping for nieces and nephews?”

  Eileen couldn’t help but notice the woman assumed she wasn’t shopping for her own children. Was it a jab at her sexuality or did she recognize Eileen and knew she was childless? They were roughly the same age and it was highly probable they’d attended the same school.

  “I’m shopping for kids spending Christmas in the Derby hospital.” Before coming to the store, Eileen didn’t have any intention of doing this. But the idea struck her as soon as she spied all the brightly colored and cheerful turtles.

  “What a lovely idea.”

  “Can you set all of them aside?”

  “All of them?” The woman’s eyes roamed over the thirty-something turtles. “Are there that many kids in the hospital for the holiday?”

  “Fortunately, no. But there’ll be more in the months to come. Life can be… unfair. These little guys can add color to their bedsides.”

  The woman’s eyes briefly fell to Eileen’s rigid arm. “I know what you mean about life... Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “I’m still browsing for a last-minute gift for my mom.”

  The woman nodded her head as if she understood Eileen’s dilemma. “Give me a holler if you need anything. I’ll start boxing up the turtles.”

  “Thank you.”

  Eileen wandered to the knit section, sizing up a candy-apple red cashmere scarf, which according to the label came from the Aran Islands. Eileen suspected it was true as she inspected the quality of the traditional honeycomb stitch. This was no knock-off, a fact the price on the tag also reflected, but its beauty more than justified the cost. A shame to waste it on her mom.

  Her eyes wandered over the other colors, wondering which one Naomi would prefer.

  Stop, Eileen. She doesn’t like you.

  But she wanted to show Naomi she was thinking of her. Was that the best route, though, for another chance?

  Buying cute turtles for the kids was fine. Buying Naomi a Christmas gift, and such an expensive one, at that, would that seem—

  Someone knocked into her.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Jane steadied Eileen.

  “Uh, yeah. What were…” Stopping herself from saying what she was thinking, she switched gears. “Are you doing some last-minute shopping as well?”

  Jane, a glassy look in her eyes, nodded. “For my mom. She’s difficult…” she let her words tail off.

  Eileen couldn’t determine if Jane meant to imply her mom was difficult to shop for or all-around difficult. “I understand.” She gripped the red scarf in her hand like it was a neck, twisting it.

  Jane glanced about, rubbing her chin. “Maybe I should pick up a gift for Naomi, as well. I bumped into her yesterday at the hospital and she looked down in the dumps.”

  “Oh, really. Did you volunteer?” A stab of jealousy plunged into Eileen’s chest.

  Jane shook her head. “No, I can’t seem to… it freaks me out. I had to get my yearly blood test, that’s all.” Her eyes dropped to the floor.

  “What kind of gift were you thinking for Naomi? To cheer her up.”

  Jane stared at the knitted scarves. “Good question. She really likes to bake. A mixer or something.”

  Eileen stifled a laugh, considering Jane was standing in the middle of a store that didn’t sell kitchen supplies unless you counted quirky Leprechaun bottle openers. “Would she like something… so practical?”

  Jane laughed. “You got me. I’m admittedly the worst shopper on the planet.”

  At least she was honest.

  Jane’s eyes zeroed in on the scarf in Eileen’s hands. “Who’s that for?”

  “I was thinking of getting this for my mom.”

  “Mind if I steal your idea. Not the actual scarf in your hands. That would be mean. Even for me.” Jane chuckled, seemingly aware of her reputation in town. She reached for a sky blue one. “This would make her eyes really pop.”

  “Sure. I don’t have the market cornered on gifts for difficult mothers.” Although, this meant Eileen couldn’t purchase one for Naomi. Not if every mom in Derby sported one from offspring who didn’t allocate enough time or thought to find the perfect Christmas gift. And, Eileen wanted a gift that showed Naomi she cared, not the one that was easy and right before her.

  “Maybe this year she won’t be so disappointed in me.” Jane’s expression didn’t bank on it. “Oh, hey, speaking of disappointment. I’m sorry I ambushed you that morning in the café. Putting you on the spot for an endorsement.” Her glance ping-ponged around the shop. “I’d just read a scathing review of my exhibition and… well… the thought struck me. It was desperate, really.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I have to run. But if you ever have time for coffee, I’d love to pick your brain about photography and I promise not to ask for any favors.” Without waiting for a response, Jane marched to the register to pay for the scarf. On her way out, she said over her shoulder, “If you would like to meet, Naomi has my number.”

  The door closed.

  Why did Jane assume Eileen was on good enough terms with Naomi to say, “Hey, can I get your ex’s digits?” Or was Naomi the Ma Bell of Derby? Although, Jane was way too young to know this reference to the US telephone company.

  Back to the Naomi gift issue. Should she buy her something? Was Jane wildly off the mark in suggesting a mixer? She was right about Naomi’s obsession with cooking. Any woman with a classic stainless-steel scale to measure flour for simple pancakes took cooking to the obsession level.

  Jane, though, outright admitted she was a terrible shopper. And her track record with Naomi wasn’t superb. Unless you counted breaking Naomi’s heart, which Eileen had accomplished all on her own.

  Eileen thought back to one of the gifts she’d purchased for Melissa way back in the day. A coffee mug, simply because days before Melissa had said she needed a new one. And it hadn’t even been a clever one, like the one on the shelf proclaiming, “We can’t all be Irish… someone has to drive.” No, Eileen had bought Melissa a plain white mug and if her memory served her correctly, that was the last gift she’d purchased for her high school sweetheart. Unless she counted the sympathy card Eileen sent when hearing, months after the fact, Susan had died. No, most assuredly that didn’t count.

  No mixers or mugs. Perhaps best to stay away from any item that started with the letter M.

  Eileen started at the shop’s entrance, and carefully examined every item in the store. Sometimes when you least expected it, you found something perfect. Like when Eileen had spilled the contents of her change purse in the hospital coffee shop and Naomi had rushed to help her.

  A coin purse?

  Eileen groaned.

  Think, Eileen, what would Naomi like?

  Her phone rang, but it wasn’t the person she wanted to speak to. On second thoughts, it was the next best person. “Julia, I need your help.”

  “Are you okay?” There was concern in her voice.

  “I’m fine. Just completely at a loss what to buy for Christmas.”

  “If you’re shopping for Mom, I suggest a sweater or something. And, Dad, some nice socks. Warm ones.”

  Eileen moved to the far corner, hopefully out of hearing of the shop owner. “Not Mom or Dad. Naomi.”

  “Oh.” There was a pause. “Are you asking me to help you buy a gift for a woman you’re interested in?”

  “I was… Is that weird?”

  “Not weird. Totally unexpected, comin
g from you. But, I’ve been told it’s something most sisters do, but you… oh my God, you must really like Naomi. Like, really like her.” Julia laughed. “Do you think I can cram another like in that sentence?” She giggled as if she was in high school. “I’m just in shock. Total shock.”

  “I’m starting to remember why I never ask people for help. They lose their frigging minds.”

  “Oh, shut up and let me enjoy this moment, will ya? My older sister wants me to shop with her. Where are you?” Her voice changed, indicating she meant business.

  “The Irish Store on Main Street.”

  “No, that won’t do. I’ll swing by with the car in ten minutes and we’ll head to Boston for real shopping. Be ready.”

  Eileen paid for the turtles and scarf, wondering if she’d made a serious mistake calling Julia. She’d never hear the end of it. Especially if she crashed and burned. The thought of knowing she’d tried, though, eased her worry some.

  In Julia’s car, driving back from Boston, Eileen asked, “Would you like to stop for dinner?”

  “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Julia eased onto the offramp. “On second thought, don’t tell me. I like this version so much better. There’s a quaint restaurant just down the road. Their apple cobbler is to die for. I should warn you though, no one there will be under the age of sixty, so you’ll fit right in.”

  Eileen rolled her eyes. “You’re taking this sisterly bond a bit too far. Are you sure James and the kids won’t miss you for dinner?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Julia drummed her thumbs on the steering wheel. “This gives them an excuse to order pizza and not eat any vegetables.”

  “You force your teenagers to eat veggies. What kind of monster are you?”

  “The mother kind.”

  Eileen closed one eye. “I can’t remember; did Mom make us eat healthy?”

  Julia handed Eileen her phone. “Can you text James that I won’t be home for dinner? As for Mom, I don’t remember her ever cooking a meal, but Maggie always included something green, usually your fave brussels sprouts, which I hated by the way.”

  “It’s a wonder you survived.” Eileen slowly punched out the text. Within seconds of hitting send, James replied with five pizza emojis. “Does this mean he’s getting five pizzas?” Eileen held the phone for her sister to see the so-called message.

  “Perhaps. Or he’s just that excited for a greasy meal. Michael can demolish a pizza on his own, though. And James likes to keep up with his son, forgetting he doesn’t have Michael’s metabolism.”

  Three minutes after five, they pulled into a nearly empty parking lot, in front of a building that looked like a cross between a big red barn and an old western saloon. It even had a wagon wheel next to the door. “Dad would be tickled that we’re here for the early bird special.” Julia killed the car’s engine. “It’s a wonder he and mom have stayed married so long.”

  “Irish Americans can be stubborn.” Eileen opened the car door.

  “You’re living proof of that.” Julia dropped her keys into her purse.

  The perky blond hostess led them past five tables of older white-haired couples, to a booth near a wall that was formed almost entirely from a massive stone fireplace. Flames danced in the hearth and filled the room with a pleasant warmth. “Will this work?”

  The booth was like every other one in the place, with worn vinyl seats and a plain wooden tabletop covered with nicks and scratches. “Yes, thank you.” Julia took her seat.

  The hostess placed menus in front of each. “Adriene will be right with you.”

  “I recommend the buffalo chicken cheese enchiladas,” Julia said not bothering to open her menu.

  “Do they come with brussels sprouts?”

  “Nope.” She flashed a toothy grin.

  Eileen leaned back against the seat. “How much did you hate me growing up?”

  “Never did, Ellie. Didn’t have to. You were always beating yourself up enough to cover the bases.”

  Adriene took their drink and dinner order, both sisters ordering enchiladas, and mulled apple cider without the rum.

  “Are you ready to spill yet?” Julia asked when the waitress left.

  “About?”

  “How you messed things up with Naomi?”

  “Why do you assume it was me?” Eileen placed a hand over her breast.

  Julia fiddled with the silverware, picking up the knife and pointing it at Eileen. “The gift currently sitting in my car is a dead giveaway, which is sweet. But I have a feeling the true gift for Naomi, is the care packages for all the kids in the hospital.”

  Ignoring Julia’s antics, Eileen asked, “Is it too much?”

  “It’s perfect. And so much better than the coffee mug you got Melissa.”

  “You knew about that?”

  “Women talk,” she said as if Eileen was the only person on the planet who didn’t understand that simple fact.

  “Seems everyone in our town does.”

  “You want to know why most people talk?”

  “Enlighten me, please, oh wise one,” Eileen mocked.

  “To avoid messing things up with someone they truly care about. So, the way I see it, you can tell me what’s going on or never get past it.”

  Eileen hated the fact that she knew Julia was right. She needed to open up more to Julia and more importantly, to Naomi. Or she’d never be able to set things right.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Naomi peered at the fairy lights she’d hung up in her office only a week ago. They were sagging a bit on the left, but she didn’t have the energy to pull up a chair, stand on it, and adjust them again. It was the last day of work before her Christmas holiday started anyway, and she should really be in the break room, drinking eggnog with her co-workers. For a few hours, all of them should be forgetting about the people they hadn’t been able to help the past year, and toasting the ones they had.

  It was the 21st of December, only four days until Christmas, and Naomi had spent her time—of which she suddenly seemed to have way too much—spreading as much cheer as she could. Mainly in the form of the most elaborate Christmas decorations the children’s cancer ward of Derby Hospital had ever seen. But in doing so, it felt like Naomi didn’t have any joy left for herself.

  The image of Eileen at Tyson’s bedside was burned in her mind. No matter how hard she tried to focus on thoughts of the brand-new Christmas sweater she’d bought, or the tree that awaited her at home, or the food her mom would prepare, the prevalent image in her mind remained Eileen giving Tyson that camera. Eileen. Eileen. Eileen.

  Christ, Naomi wished Eileen would leave Derby soon. At least then, she could move on. But what if she really had decided to stay longer? She shook her head. It still didn’t make a difference.

  With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself out of her chair, and joined the party.

  Warmed by a few glasses of eggnog, Naomi swung the door of the hospital wide open. She looked forward to her snowy walk home. By the time she got there, she’d have sobered up, but hopefully still enjoying a lingering buzz. Spending time with the people she worked with, having a chat and toasting the upcoming new year, had transported her mind away from Eileen. She was feeling more ready for Christmas now.

  “Fancy bumping into you here,” someone said.

  Naomi snapped out of her reverie. She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t seen Eileen coming around the corner.

  “I do work here, you know,” Naomi said, perhaps sounding a little snippier than she had intended. The truth was that, after she’d run out of Tyson’s room last week—literally fleeing from Eileen—she had hoped to run into her at the hospital every day.

  “I do know, of course.” Eileen stepped a little closer.

  Even though she’d secretly hoped for a moment like this—and despite wanting to find out how long Eileen would be staying in town for—Naomi didn’t know what to say. She shuffled her weight around a bit.

  Eileen ostenta
tiously sniffed the air between them. “Do they let hospital employees drink on the job these days?” A grin appeared on her face.

  “We had a Christmas party,” Naomi said.

  Eileen nodded. “Good to know… that might tempt me to take advantage of—” They were interrupted by someone else leaving the hospital.

  “Hey there, ladies,” Mack said. He gave Eileen a quick once-over. “Promise me again you won’t neglect your exercises over the Christmas break.” He held up his hand. “Come on. Give me a high-five. With your bad hand.” He shot Eileen a wide grin and then winked at Naomi. “Always be retraining the pathway,” he said cheerily.

  Naomi wondered how Mack’s bossiness would go down with Eileen.

  “You ask too much of me.” Eileen’s face strained as she tried to lift her right arm. She didn’t seem to mind Mack’s forwardness about her condition in front of someone else. She turned to Naomi and, almost out of breath, said, “He keeps doing that.”

  “It’s my job.” Mack held his hand much lower. “At least give me a low one. Down and dirty, just the way I like it.”

  Eileen rolled her eyes, but managed to slap her palm against Mack’s.

  “Thanks for that. Now I have to rush to get some last-minute Christmas shopping done. Just like every year.” He tipped a finger to his forehead and walked to his car.

  “God, men can be so annoying,” Eileen said.

  Naomi snickered, then nodded at Eileen’s arm. “You seem to have made some progress since, er…”

  “Since I asked you to remove that peanut butter jar from my palm?” Eileen arched up one eyebrow.

  Naomi nodded. “Are you doing better?”

  “Physically, I guess I am.” Eileen shot her a weak smile. She breathed in a lungful of air. “Do you think you can ever forgive me, Naomi?”

  Naomi wasn’t expecting that question. “I didn’t know you were asking for forgiveness,” she said, unable to keep a measure of disbelief from her voice.