Winter Hearts

by A. E. Radley

  “My mistake. The thought of alcohol makes me sick today, but I’ll probably get over that pretty quickly.”

  “My abuela doesn’t allow alcohol in her house, so I might just have a sober January. That would make her happy.”

  “You should always make your grandmother happy. You never know how long you’ll have her,” she said, with her voice dropping in volume until it was almost a whisper.

  I gripped her arm close to the elbow, feeling the need to give her a hug, but not wanting to send a signal I didn’t mean. “I wish you had a grandmother that you were as crazy about as I am mine,” I said. “Actually, since I have two, I can give you one.” I laughed at the thought. “But I get to pick which one.”

  “I won’t be picky. I’ll take whichever one you want to get rid of. But I’d prefer one that can cook. Being a grandmother kind of requires some cooking, right?”

  “Oh, they can both cook. You’ll be fine on that front. Just don’t try to bring a woman home unless you want the lecture.”

  “Ooo. I kind of wondered how your family felt about your being gay.”

  “Mmm. Probably like most families. Some of them think it’s fine, some don’t care, some wish it wasn’t true, and some are outright hostile. Luckily, the last group is very small.” I let out a laugh. “But my grandmother is the ring-leader.”

  Sutton snapped her fingers, with her glove muffling the sound. “I had a feeling I was going to get the defective grandmother. Will it help if I’m currently single? Maybe she won’t notice I’m gay.”

  “I’m single and the lectures haven’t stopped. She won’t be happy until I move to Tabasco and marry a nice man.” I let out a laugh. “She’d better get used to not being happy.”

  We continued to walk, keeping a brisk pace to stay warm. We hadn’t run into a single person, which was kind of cool, but also weird. I was never alone in San Francisco, even when I wanted to be. But there wasn’t anything sinister about this quiet, tranquil place. It felt strangely homey, even though it was nothing like any place I’d ever visited, much less lived. Maybe my destiny was to live in the mountains.

  I’d obviously slowed down as I thought of myself racing down a hill, powder flying out from beneath my skis. I blinked, and Sutton had placed her hands on my arms, holding me loosely as she moved to stand right in front of me. Her face crept closer, until we were almost nose to nose. “Can I kiss you?” she asked, not seeming shy or uncertain in the least.

  “I…” I took in a breath, so torn I barely knew what to do. So I took the easy way out. Turning my head slightly, I said quietly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Clearly hurt, and undoubtedly surprised, she let go and backed up. “I thought…”

  “You thought right,” I said, unable to look into those big, brown eyes and see the disappointment that radiated from them. “But I like you too much to play around with, Sutton. If I kiss you, I’ll want to try for a relationship and…”

  “I want to be in a relationship, too,” she said, so earnest it made my heart race.

  “But I can’t,” I said, wincing as her hopeful gaze crumbled. “I truly understand why Paisley’s important to you, and I think you’re doing the right thing to stay close. But I can’t…” I refused to finish the thought. It was too cruel to call her sister names. Sutton knew exactly what I meant. I could see it in her eyes.

  “Okay,” she said softly. “Um, I guess we should start back.”

  “All right.” I so wanted to take her hand, to reassure her. We could be friends. We would be friends. I could easily tolerate having a good friend with a jerk for a sister. But the same wasn’t true for a girlfriend. I’d resent Paisley, then I’d resent Sutton for putting up with her bullshit. It was stupid to start something that you knew would end in heartache. But I wanted to. God, did I want to. Sutton was everything I’d been looking for in a woman, but she had to go and have an evil twin. What kind of awful karma was that?

  We pretty much stopped talking on the way back, which seemed ten times farther than the outbound trip. We’d been gone for a long time, much longer than the quick trip around the neighborhood we’d promised. As we approached the front steps, the door opened and Paisley was standing there, shrugging into her coat.

  She took one look at me, and sighed as she turned to her sister. “You could do so much better.”

  In a fraction of a second, Sutton reached out and grabbed the hood of Paisley’s jacket and hauled her into the condo. By the time I’d convinced my feet to follow them, they were heading downstairs, with Paisley slapping at Sutton’s hand.

  “Let me go!” she kept repeating. But Sutton had a good grip on her and wasn’t going to stop until she got her away from Jessica and me. I’d like to say that I went to my room to mind my own business. But of course I didn’t! I had no idea what Sutton was going to do, but she was doing it at full voice, and I had to listen. By the time I’d unzipped my coat, Jessica was right at my shoulder, both of us listening like kids leaning over the stairway while Mom and Dad had it out.

  “I will not tolerate your disrespecting Gabriela. It’s none of your business who I spend my time with, but even if she was a stranger I wouldn’t put up with it. This bullshit stops now!” Sutton’s voice could have carried to the next condo, so I didn’t feel as guilty as I should at eavesdropping. I was cheering her on, though. It would have been fine with me if she kicked her sister right in the butt.

  “You’re disgracing our family name by pulling that shit!”

  Jessica looked at me, wide eyed. Neither of us had heard a single curse word come from Sutton, and it actually sounded a little funny to hear a couple now. But she still had my support, no matter how foul her language got.

  “Our parents were immigrants, Paisley, and they only got in because the system favored white people who spoke English. Don’t you see how wrong that is?”

  I nodded to Jess, proud of myself for clocking them as English. I’m not sure how I knew that, but I wouldn’t have been surprised at hearing both of them sound like the queen.

  “It’s not wrong,” Paisley said. “There’s only so much room. Some people will get in, and some won’t. What’s wrong with preferring people who speak English? We founded the place.”

  “The people who founded this country were dark-skinned. We stole it from them!” Sutton yelled, sounding like she was about to have a stroke.

  “The people who founded this country weren’t thieves. They came here for religious freedom, Sutton, and it wasn’t their fault that the Indians didn’t know how to strike a better deal.”

  “I’m not going to have this argument again. You will treat people like you’d like to be treated. Period. I will not tolerate less.”

  “Or what?” Paisley demanded, clearly not able to understand that Sutton was about to strangle her.

  “Or we won’t be spending time together.”

  Jessica stared at me, looking stunned.

  “You wouldn’t!” Paisley snapped.

  “I wouldn’t want to,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But I would. I’ve given you chance after chance to change. I’m at the end of my rope, Paisley. Either treat other people with respect, or you’ve lost me.”

  I could hear that she was about to cry, and I just couldn’t bear it. So I grabbed Jessica’s hand and led her to my room. The voices were quieter when I closed the door, but I could still hear them, with Sutton standing her ground, and Paisley doing her very best to guilt-trip her into maintaining their connection. I didn’t know if Sutton could hold on, but I was rooting for her with everything I had.

  Over the next fifteen minutes, Jess and I sat next to each other on the bed, occasionally turning to lock eyes. We hadn’t said a word, as though two people yelling at each other on a different floor could hear us.

  There was something about hearing people fight that reduced me to a semblance of my normal self. Maybe that was because my parents never raised their voices around my sister and me, but on the few occasion
s I’d witnessed a true fight, I was nearly paralyzed with fear. Jess must have seen how terrified I was, since she put her arm around me and hugged me close. I felt pretty stupid, but I really did like having someone who cared for me give me a little comfort.

  I jerked upright when someone raced up the stairs, then the front door opened and slammed shut. A few seconds later, a car started, then peeled away from the condo.

  My mouth was as dry as dust, but I forced myself to my feet and went to the door. As I opened it, I said, “If Paisley’s the one who’s still here, you and I are taking off.”

  “I’ll start packing, just in case.”

  By the time I got close to the stairs, I could hear someone crying, going at it with such force it sounded like she might be sick. I took the turn stealthily, determined to turn tail, pack up, and hit the road if Paisley was the one losing it.

  I was able to get all the way down to the lower level without being detected. But as I stood there in the common room, I still couldn’t tell which twin was sitting on the sofa in front of me.

  My choices were to stand there until the woman looked up, or approach her. Now that there wasn’t an active fight going on, I was starting to feel more like myself. I took a breath, squared my shoulders, and walked over to her. As she started to lift her head, I knew it was Sutton. No doubt. This woman was in an incredible amount of pain, with not a hint of anger peeking through. I’d have bet all of the money in the world that Paisley’s expression didn’t match her twin’s. Without a doubt, she was furiously angry.

  I almost started to cry when Sutton’s pain really registered. Sinking down on the sofa, I took her in my arms and held her tightly, relieved when her body molded to mine, able to accept my comfort.

  For the longest time, I simply stroked her hair and let her cry it out. I couldn’t really put myself in her place, since my sister was a wonderful woman, but if she and I had ever had a blow-out like this, I’m not sure anyone could have reassured me.

  Sutton’s tears had soaked through my sweater, but she finally quieted down, remaining in my arms, with her cheek resting against my shoulder. Now that she wasn’t crying so hard, I knew she could hear me, and I said, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

  “You had to have heard,” she said, sniffling.

  “Of course I did, but I tried not to listen. I was surprised when she left.”

  “So was I,” she said, pulling away to sit up. She reached across me to grab some tissues, then wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “She took my car.”

  “Oh, shit. Do you think she’ll go to your apartment?”

  “No,” she said glumly. “She’ll drive right to the airport. I’ll be amazed if she left the ticket in the car. She’s devious enough to take it with her so I’ll have to pay the maximum fee.” She turned her head, with her eyes so streaked with red it looked like she had a nasty allergy. “What if I never see her again?”

  “That will be her choice, Sutton. Not yours.”

  “How…how do you know that?” Her voice was still shaking so hard it was tough to understand her, but I was so focused on Sutton that I was able to decipher her words.

  “Because you’re a very loving sister. You set down some rules, but you won’t shut her out of your life. I’m certain of that.”

  “I never would,” she admitted, nodding. “But I’m also not going to put up with her nonsense. If she can behave, we’ll go on as we always have. If not…” She sighed again. “That’s her choice.”

  “Either way, it’s going to be hard for you,” I said. Sutton looked like she’d been in a physical fight, with her swollen eyes, blotchy skin, and red nose. But at that moment, she was prettier than I’d ever seen her. Integrity was really attractive. I put my hand on her cheek and cupped it. “Do you know what you need?” I started to lean toward her, with her eyes growing wide as I got close.

  “No,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “You need a girlfriend.”

  “I do?” She sucked in a breath. “I mean, I do,” she said, sounding slightly more certain. “I really do.”

  “It’s going to be hard figuring out what you’ll put up with and where you can draw the line. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone in your corner? Someone who truly wanted the best for you?”

  “But I thought…”

  “I was being short-sighted,” I said, my certainty growing. “It’s crazy to only consider dating women in a perfect situation. They just don’t exist, right?”

  “I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t have something,” she said, nodding.

  “Absolutely. So, rather than trying to find the truly perfect woman, why not pick one who’s kind, and thoughtful, and fun, and willing to stand up for herself and other people. Someone like you,” I added, as I rubbed my thumb across her cheek, smiling when she purred like a kitten.

  “Do you really see me like that?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve only known you for two days, but you’ve had a lot of opportunities to show me what you’re made of. You’re a good person, Sutton, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

  “So…it wouldn’t bother you if I tried to repair my relationship with Paisley?”

  “It would bother me if you didn’t,” I said, surprising the hell out of myself. “She’s your only sister. If you have the opportunity to help her change, you have to take it.”

  She turned her head slightly, placing a delicate kiss to my palm. “You’re a good person, too, Gabriela. A very good person.”

  “Well, I don’t like to brag…” I laughed when she did, then I slipped my arms around her again. “If we’re going to be girlfriends, we’d better start acting like it.”

  Her face lit up with a luminous smile, making my heart swell. She moved a little closer, then I moved a little closer, waiting until our lips touched to pull her tight. What a good idea this was! It hadn’t happened often, but every once in a great while you kissed a woman and you just knew. Sutton was going to be mine, and I was going to be hers. It wouldn’t always be easy, but if we had each other’s backs, we’d get it done.

  The End

  ABOUT SUSAN X MEAGHER

  Susan began her writing career posting Uber Xena fan fiction in the late nineties, progressing to publishing her debut novel with Fortitude Press in 2002. She has just published “Wait For Me,” her forty-second novel with Brisk Press.

  www.susanxmeagher.com

  HOLLY HOLLYDAYS BY A.E. RADLEY

  CHAPTER 1

  Holly knocked on Alexia’s bedroom door and waited. The loud pop music was muted, and the door opened.

  “Hey,” Alexia greeted. She frowned. “What’s wrong? You look… weird.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk. May I come in?”

  Alexia nodded and stood to one side.

  Holly entered the room. It was messy, nothing disastrous just standard eight-year-old stuff. Victoria wouldn’t have thought so. Victoria would probably want her to chastise Alexia and ask her to clean. But she needed Alexia’s help, not to be a nagging step-mom.

  “Sorry about the mess,” Alexia mumbled.

  Acknowledging the state was enough for Holly. She sat on the edge of Alexia’s bed and looked up at her girlfriend’s daughter.

  “Are you breaking up with mom?” Alexia asked.

  Holly blanched. “What? No, no of course not. Why would you think that?”

  Alexia folded her arms. She was a miniature Victoria Hastings, piercing Holly with a meaningful glare. One that clearly stated she was asking a ridiculous question. Holly felt she should chastise the behaviour, but she knew she was on shaky ground. She had come to seek Alexia’s help. The help of a child. And she’d done so after spending many days, even weeks, trying to solve the unsolvable conundrum herself. It was a last resort. She didn’t want to put the burden on Alexia, nor did she want to provide evidence of her inability to do something that most people probably found quite simple.

  “I don’t know what to get your mom
for Christmas,” Holly sighed. “She’s impossible to buy for.”

  Alexia pulled her office chair out from under her desk and wheeled it over to the bed. She sat down, crossed her legs, and looked at Holly. “Go on.”

  Holly leaned back on her arms. “She’s rich, she can buy anything she wants. She’s given things by designers every day. There was a $10,000 broach from Givenchy delivered by courier yesterday… She put it in a jewellery box that was overflowing with trinkets. I… I don’t have that kind of money. She’s not going to want a pair of socks for Christmas, is she? What do I get her?”

  “Have you asked her?”

  “Yes.” Holly sat forward and nodded. “She said she didn’t want anything.”

  Alexia shrugged. “Then don’t get her anything.”

  Holly’s mouth dropped open. “Don’t… Wh—” She stood up and paced the room. “Alexia, it’s Christmas. Christmas. The time you get the one you love something amazing, something incredible. The time when you get up early in the morning and light a cosy fire, sit in your robe, and open presents from under the tree. It has to be perfect.”

  “Holly… do you even remember Christmas?” Alexia asked.

  Holly paused in her pacing. She shook her head. Her memories still hadn’t returned. Whatever happened to her in Paris nearly two years ago was still a mystery, as was everything that had come before it. She’d spent last Christmas in the hospital in Paris. They’d watched movies and she’d read Oliver Twist, a gift from one of the nurses.

  “No,” she said. “Only what I’ve seen on television and movies. And, of course, what I’ve read in books and my journals.”

  “What did you used to do for Christmas? Did your journals say?”

  Holly’s habit of writing down every single iota of her life had apparently begun many years ago during one Christmas. And thank goodness it had. The discovery of years’ worth of journals had helped her come to terms with the amnesia. As much as she missed her memories, wished she could remember her previous life, she’d come to terms with what had happened.