Holiday Perks

by Lanai Juniper

  It was the first place she had ever professed her love for another woman.

  Chapter Four

  THE National Christmas Tree was elegant and dignified, so familiarly fragrant yet so filled with grandeur that Andi couldn’t help but wonder how such a thing existed in the world at all. Andi had loved visiting the tree every year, walking along the Pathway to Peace, admiring how each state decorated its own miniature tree before beholding the wonder of the National Tree in all its lit-up glory. A tradition passed down by her father, Andi hadn’t missed a personal viewing yet. But now her father had long since passed on and her mother hadn’t been the same in just as long.

  At first, Andi had carried on the tradition alone, but when she met Elaine, she was so relieved that at last she had someone to share the special occasion with. Even if Elaine, with her calculated pragmatism, didn’t share Andi’s enthusiasm for the tree, she still humored Andi by accompanying her on her annual pilgrimage to The Ellipse. The fact that Elaine would be so generous as to take time out of her day to do something that was not completely enjoyable for her for Andi’s sake made Andi love Elaine even more. And she professed her love for Elaine right there, on a cold December night, under the boughs of the National Christmas Tree. She had been so happy. They had been so happy. Hadn’t they?

  When Noah pointedly told Andi that he saw a worrisome inequity in the way she put Elaine completely through law school, Andi countered that Elaine had made a sacrifice for her as well. It may not have been a sacrifice of the same caliber, but it was a sacrifice nonetheless. And besides, when had any relationship been exactly equal? Noah opened his mouth, a fine retort ready, but snapped it shut and just gave Andi a sidelong glance instead. In retrospect, Andi supposed it may have been the only time Noah didn’t say exactly what was on his mind. If he had, would she have listened to him and saved herself another year of heartbreak, or would she have pushed him away? In any event, Andi was glad that their friendship remained in tact.

  Andi expected the National Christmas Tree to forever remain a mocking reminder of her complete failure at the truest human experience, at love, but now that Andi stood alone in the shadow of the tree, she didn’t feel painfully humiliated. Only sad. Perhaps her mother was right. When you lost someone you truly loved, maybe it was impossible to try to relive the past. Maybe it was best just to stay away. But she had tried to stay away from this place, this grove of memories, and she had completely failed. She had failed to stay away just like she had failed to keep Elaine by her side.

  Andi walked though the fragrant Fraser Firs along the Pathway of Peace. Now that she was here, she conceded, she might try to get the best view of the tree. She’d take a good look and then describe its beauty to her mother when she saw her on Christmas Day. Maybe all she needed was a good memory to help heal her own broken heart.

  The Pathway of Peace opened up and at last Andi caught a stunning view of the tree. Delicate white bulbs danced on its dignified boughs, while red-and-green strings of lights wrapped around the tree’s body in elegant pageantry. A fine bright star balanced on the tip-top of the tree, a hopeful and joyous adornment. Yes, the National Christmas Tree had always been tried and true in its stateliness, in its best possible form even when she was not. Andi was surprised to find herself oddly comforted by its classical reliability.

  “Every year it seems more beautiful than the last,” a voice behind Andi spoke.

  Andi turned around and jumped back a step. She was looking into the soft gray eyes of the woman with the chestnut brown hair.

  “Oh!” was the only thing her voice allowed her to say.

  “I don’t get to see it every year, but when I do, it’s one of the highlights of my trips to D.C.,” the woman continued.

  Though slightly reserved, Andi wasn’t one to be so rude as to ignore conversation with a patron of National Brew. But as they stood under the boughs of the Christmas tree, Andi couldn’t help but be struck by the woman’s naturally good looks. Free from the shield of her daily newspaper, the woman looked even more composed than ever. In her wool coat and crimson scarf, she appeared to have just stepped out of a fashion catalogue for Ivy Leaguers. Fascinated by such an up-close encounter with beauty, Andi forgot to properly acknowledge her.

  “Well, this year didn’t disappoint, anyway,” the woman concluded, passing Andi a small smile before starting to turn away.

  Suddenly Andi felt that if the woman were to leave, then this year truly would be the worst of her life.

  “Wait,” Andi said, immediately hoping that she didn’t sound completely pitiful.

  The woman turned around, her head slightly cocked to the side.

  Adorable. Focus.

  “You mentioned that you take frequent trips here,” Andi stammered, “but you’ve been in town for a while now. I’ve seen you in the coffee shop since summer.” Andi felt her cheeks reddening. Well, Noah had seen the woman first. Andi didn’t want her to think she had been keeping tabs on her.

  “I mean, it’s my job to recognize my regulars,” Andi followed up. Her reddening cheeks didn’t temper down.

  Idiot. You’re going to drive her away from National Brew and Noah will never forgive you.

  The woman tossed Andi a relaxed smile. “Of course, it’s what makes you my favorite coffee shop. And you’re right, my trip this time has been extended, which I couldn’t be happier about. A lot of people say New York is the place to be for the holidays, but I prefer D.C. There’s something about being here, in the nation’s capital, among all these amazing monuments and incredible history, which really makes a woman proud.”

  Proud.

  Andi hadn’t felt proud of anything in a very long time.

  “I’m sorry,” the woman continued. “I sound like I’ve been hanging out with a bunch of flag-waving politicians all day, which, to be honest, I have,” she ended with a laugh.

  “You’re a politician?” Andi asked.

  “Not quite,” the woman answered. “A speech writer, which puts me in their confidence quite frequently.”

  “Anyone I might know?” Andi inquired. She didn’t follow politics much but she was very much on board now with following the woman with the chestnut brown hair.

  “Most of my work now is for Gillian McGovern.”

  Andi nodded. She knew of Gillian McGovern. Nobody could argue with McGovern’s good looks or her popular platforms. Or her social prowess. Her frequent dates with drop-dead gorgeous celebrities kept her a hot item in the Washington society pages. At least according to Noah.

  “She’s a real stand-up lady,” the woman explained. “Gillian likes to have a good time, don’t get me wrong, but she’s a real stand-up lady. She’s come a long way since she used to cheat at checkers when we were kids.”

  “You knew her as a child?”

  “We grew up together in Providence.”

  Andi remembered an item from one of Noah’s gossip magazines. Gillian McGovern had been born into a privileged Rhode Island family with a strong pedigree and even stronger stock holdings. With her good looks and natural charm, the fact that Gillian McGovern entered the political sphere surprised no one.

  The woman with the chestnut brown hair had to come from an equally distinguished family, or perhaps she was the daughter of the McGovern’s gardener. Either way, to keep company with a McGovern was a great achievement in and of itself, no matter how it happened. That is, if one cared about those kinds of things, which Andi knew that Noah did. Anything she could find out about the McGoverns now she could tease him about later.

  “That’s great that Gillian McGovern’s brought you into the fold now that she’s a rising star,” Andi mused.

  Ever since Gillian McGovern became Rhode Island’s newest senator, the town had christened her the President’s likely successor come the next election. Never mind that McGovern was still wet behind the ears.

  “I should think so. Who do you think made her such a well-spoken powerhouse?” the woman answered with a wink.

 
Andi felt suddenly way too hot in her buttoned up jacket, even though a crisp wind blew across The Ellipse. The decorations on the National Christmas Tree billowed and shook.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve kept you out here too long,” the woman apologized. “You must have things to do, and I’m going off on boring political drivel like every other sap around here.”

  “No, no,” Andi insisted.

  “No reason to rush home, then?” the woman asked, an up note in her voice.

  Andi shook her head no.

  The woman fidgeted with her scarf, then, before clearing her throat. “I really don’t do this all that often, but being in the audience of such a sight makes me really dread going home and banging out a speech about the necessity of campaign finance reform. I’m thinking nice conversation over a hot beverage might be in order. What do you say, can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  “A cup of coffee?” Andi couldn’t help but laugh.

  The woman nervously laughed too. “Coffee, no of course you don’t.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” Andi said.

  The woman brightened, “maybe a glass of wine?”

  “Sounds great,” Andi replied. “I’m Andi Rossi, by the way.”

  “And I’m so sorry I didn’t formally introduce myself sooner. I’m Sheila.”

  The woman reached out and shook Andi’s hand. The woman’s grip was confident and warm. Andi was too busy trying to get her insides to stop fluttering that she didn’t notice that Sheila had not told her her last name.

  Chapter Five

  IN a cozy corner of a tavern on 15th Street, over a glass of red wine, Andi recounted the highlights of her life to Sheila. Born and raised to a middle-class family in Maryland. Dreamt of one day attending culinary school but the sudden passing of her father made her put her plans on hold.

  As a warm fire crackled in the corner of the tavern in a stone fireplace, it cast an amber glow against Sheila’s skin. Andi hesitated to say anything that might ruin the comfortable mood. She didn’t tell Sheila about the money her father had left her. Money that she was supposed to use for culinary school but that she used, instead, to put Elaine through law school. She didn’t tell Sheila how the money was gone, how her investment was a farce. She had let her father down by squandering her own education.

  Andi took a deep drink of wine, thinking that at any moment she might have to leap up from the table and excuse herself so as to not completely break down in Sheila’s presence.

  “I hope you make it to school one day soon,” Sheila said, the light from the fire flickering in her eyes. “You seem to have a real talent for the craft, if your focus as a barista is any indication.”

  Andi forced a smile. “You noticed? Every time you come in, your head is buried in a newspaper.”

  “A hazard of the profession. But I’m trying to be better about keeping my eyes open to the things that matter.”

  Warmth spread down Andi’s neck. Sheila was just too beautiful in her crisp white shirt. She had to focus if she was going to correctly give Noah a play-by-play of her evening with his favorite customer. And find out some juicy bits about her favorite presidential hopeful.

  “What about you?” Andi asked, trying to get comfortable in the booth next to the speechwriter.

  “I already told you my back story.”

  “You told me Gillian McGovern’s back story.”

  “It’s almost the same, minus the political ambition, devastating charm and dates with gorgeous men.”

  “I’d say you’re pretty charming,” Andi automatically replied, before inwardly cringing at her awkwardness.

  “Thank you. If the last thirty years have been any indication, I’ve got to work at it,” Sheila airily laughed. “But you’re right. I did tell you a lot about my friend Gillian, since my story is not quite as interesting. So let’s see, I grew up in Providence, got a degree or two from Yale and was lucky enough to find my dream job.”

  “Speechwriting.”

  “Nope, fiction writing. Contemporary mysteries, mostly. Had a pretty good go of it, actually. Got a few books into some of the big bookstores.”

  “Wow.”

  “Nothing that’d win me any prizes, but it made me happy and my readers seem to like ‘em.”

  “That’s great, really great,” Andi said sincerely.

  “Aw, you’re going to make me blush, Andi Rossi.”

  Andi smiled to herself at the thought that she could make the beautiful woman sitting next to her do anything.

  “So yes, I’m a novelist at heart, but when Gillian decided she wanted to go into politics full-tilt, she asked me if I would help her. Of course I couldn’t say no. Now is there anything else you’d like to know?” Sheila asked, her gray eyes expectant.

  A million questions rushed into Andi’s mind—are you dating anyone, do you want to date anyone, how about me?

  Andi immediately jettisoned all three. The thought of her being with anyone was absurd. Granted, sitting next to Sheila made her feel more at ease than she had been in ages. But Sheila moved in the powerful echelons of D.C. society. And herself? Well, she was just a barista.

  Sheila had given her an opportunity, though, and Andi was going to take advantage of it—for Noah’s sake.

  Andi cleared her throat. “I guess something I’d like to know, well everyone would like to know, is something we don’t already know about Gillian McGovern.”

  The moment Andi asked the question, she knew it was a mistake. Sheila’s beautiful face fell a little bit, making Andi throw curses at herself. Sheila forced out a small smile and tried to keep her tone light.

  “I guess I set myself up for that one,” Sheila tried to joke but just ended up sounding sad. “But I’m a woman of my word, so here you go. One thing that most people don’t know about Gillian is that she still sleeps with her teddy bear.”

  Andi awkwardly laughed. Noah would love hearing about that but Andi suddenly wanted to tell Sheila that she didn’t care one bit about Gillian McGovern and wouldn’t she please continue talking about herself. Andi drained the rest of the wine from her wine glass.

  What are your hopes and ambitions?

  Sheila cut off Andi’s railing inner monologue by standing up from the table and slipping on her coat.

  “Well, Andi, it’s been a pleasure keeping your company this evening.”

  “Yes,” Andi managed to say. Regret was coming for her, fast.

  “I suppose if I don’t head home soon and finish up a bit of work, Gillian’s going to be saying some pretty amusing things tomorrow.”

  “I understand.”

  “So I’ll see you around.”

  “You know where I work.”

  Sheila laughed. “Yes I do. Have a good night, Andi.”

  “Good night, Sheila.”

  With a nod, Sheila slipped out the tavern door.

  Andi leaned back, defeated, against the wooden booth that she had shared with Sheila. She had just ruined the best interaction with a woman she’d had in forever, and most likely lost National Brew a customer for good.

  When Andi tried to settle the tab, she pulled out the twenty-dollar bill that Sheila had left in her tip jar. The corners of Andi’s mouth turned up at the irony. But when their server appeared, she informed her that the bill had already been settled. Andi put the bill back into her pocket.

  She stood up and threw her jacket around her shoulders. Maybe if she left now, she’d be able to catch up with Sheila and explain to her that she should stay, they should continue the night together. But when she stepped foot outside the tavern door, Sheila was gone.

  Chapter Six

  “ANDI!” Noah cried as he pushed through the crowd gathered outside of National Brew. He slipped into the store, which hadn’t properly opened yet.

  “What is it, dear?” Andi asked, feeding espresso beans into the hopper of the machine.

  “Nothing but bad news for me and good news for you,” Noah replied, collapsing into an overstuffed chair in the corner of th
e coffee shop.

  The crowd outside of the store groaned. They wanted their coffee, and they wanted it now. Never mind that there was still fifteen minutes until opening.

  “I could use some good news, but not at your expense,” Andi replied.

  “Too late for that,” Noah bustled. “I went out with my NSA friend.”

  Andi spilled espresso beans onto the floor with a clatter. She knew where this was going, and it was way too early in the morning to fess up to ruining everything.

  “My cute mystery customer—”

  “Speechwriter to Gillian McGovern,” Andi continued with a sigh, cleaning up the beans.

  “Sister to Gillian McGovern,” Noah interjected.

  “Sister?” Andi repeated. Yes, of course, sister. Sheila had given her the boldest of clues. Grown up together in Providence. Now that Andi thought about it, Sheila and Gillian did have the same high cheekbones, same fit build.

  “Lesbian sister. Who’s been patronizing us for months yet obviously has no interest in me.” His eyes glimmered as he prattled on, too impatient to wait for Andi to make the connection. “You on the other hand... wait. Did you say speechwriter?” Noah back-tracked, his eyebrow arched.

  With her head hung low, the whole wonderfully awkward evening tumbled out of Andi’s mouth. Their meeting at the National Christmas Tree. Their drinks at the tavern. Andi’s inability to sustain the evening.

  “You know what this means of course,” Noah bubbled.

  Andi shook her head.

  “That there’s still a chance!”

  “No, I don’t think you understand, Noah,” Andi insisted, “she thinks I’m more interested in Gillian. Whose still sleeps with a teddy bear, by the way.”

  “I can work with that,” Noah said, the gears in his head turning. “But, really, think about it, Andi. Everyday, Sheila comes in here and leaves a huge tip. And it’s not because of me, Andi. It’s because of you. She’s had her eyes on you—her gorgeous, gorgeous eyes on you—for a long time. She’s not going to let something like a little foot in the mouth discourage her.”