She could still hear it as she drove away. Why can't you be like normal girls? Why do you have to make things harder on yourself, and on me? Don't you think about the consequences? You know what happened to all those other people. Do you want to end up like that? I'm ashamed to call you my daughter! If you want to live at your friend's house, you go right ahead, because you won't be welcome here. Well why don't you leave? Go on, get out! And don't come back until you've got some sense in your head. "Some sense, right," Ayanna whispered to herself. She sighed as she turned left, into the familiar neighborhood. It was snowing. "Merry Christmas to you too, mom." "Eve of Christ's Mass" She knew the neighborhood by heart, having driven through it several times to and from Hero's house. Knowing she would be welcome, and fearing it was the only refuge for her at that time, she drove through and spotted the two-story house easily. Ayanna parked in the driveway and went up to the door: Hero, her hero, what a woman. Would she be there? It was December 24th, so perhaps she was at church. Ayanna wished she had called her. Hero never took her phone to church. She knocked rapidly three times. "Well Merry Christmas!" Mr. Love greeted her before long, a smile on his face and a hug in his arms. Ayanna felt a little awkward hugging her girlfriend's father, but hey, it was Christmas. "Come on in! We weren't expecting you, though." "Sorry." She came through the door, took off her boots, and let Mr. Love take her coat. "I know I should've called. It's a bit short-notice." "Nonsense, you're always welcome. Dear!" he called to his wife, and then, "Hero! Ayanna's here! Come say hello!" Mrs. Love poked her head into the anteroom, her hair looking splendid and her smile beaming. "Hello, dear!" she exclaimed. "I thought you'd be coming on by sometime, but I wish you had called. Well, no matter; I've got some lunch if you're hungry." "Oh, um..." "Please, have a seat at the table," she encouraged. "I'll just be in the kitchen a bit longer. Hero! Your girlfriend's here! Where is that child..." Ayanna smiled awkwardly as the two parents of her girlfriend busies themselves, neither of them bothered very much by her presence. So, she was right: she was welcome there. Ayanna sighed and hugged herself. Her mother had been so insensitive to her... "Hey, wassup?" She felt a firm slap on her shoulder and turned to greet Hero, who had on a festive green sweater. They exchanged a kiss, which always did brighten Ayanna's mood. "Oh, um...I just...thought I'd come over." "Really? Cool! Listen, make yourself at home. Watch some TV or have something to eat. I'm a little busy but I'll be with you in a jiff." She winked and flitted off, just like a fairy, leaving Ayanna to do as she pleased. She dove into the kitchen, absorbed by Yuletide smells, sights, and sounds: cinnamon sticks, burning wicks, red and green, a bubbling tureen, and drifting, lifting songs quietly filtering out of several radios scattered around the house. It was like observing the festival of Fezziwig's, and here Ayanna, a shy, young Scrooge! She grabbed a small handful of M&Ms and a few slices of rye bread, and made her way to the Love living room, which was bright since a large window brought in lots of white wintry sunshine. Here she sat down and let the music of the season calm her, here she ate and tried to forget her domestic woes. She had spoken to her mother about Hero, about how much they were in love and how wonderful they felt together, and she had just been chewed out terribly. Mrs. Montgomery wasn't quite as open-minded to homosexuality as the Loves were, and had all but exiled her poor daughter, right on Christmas Eve! So of course, despite the warmth of the household, she was depressed. Holiday blues, indeed. "Hey." Hero interrupted her thought process and plopped down on the couch next to her, a few pieces of food in her own plate. They kissed again before the chatter started. "So what brings you here, hon? Not that I don't love the visit, I do, it's just...well, don't you have your own family to hang out with?" "Mom's not...big on family," she mentioned. "...Oh. Gosh, sucks to be you. I don't know what I'd do without mine. I'd be lost." "They do seem wonderful." "A lot of work's been put into it. Hey, come on, lemme see your smile. You're starting to look like Olivia now!" She grinned and jabbed her girlfriend playfully, which caused Ayanna to at least crack a smile. "Hey, don't diss my cuz'." "Sorry. You look like you've got a lot on your mind. C'mon, talk to me. It'll make you feel better." Ayanna took a breath. She found that talking to Hero, or even Hero's parents, was more therapeutic than speaking with her mother or her cousin, or even some of her other friends. Hero just had a naturally trustworthy disposition, like she could accept anything and be kept to secrecy about it, too. Despite her collection of flaws and freakishness, she was really quite a gem, and constantly lived up to her namesake. "I told my mom about us. She's never much liked homosexuals, and ever since I came out two years ago, we've been walking on eggshells. We hardly speak anyway. I finally told her about you and me, and she just freaked. She practically kicked me out and told me not to come back until, quote, ‘I've got some sense in my head'." "My God," Hero murmured. She drew Ayanna in for a hug and kissed her again. "So that's why you dropped by so suddenly. Hey, but maybe it was a good call. I mean, maybe it's for the best. Spending some time away might let you both cool off." "I'm not the one who lost it!" "Okay, okay..." Hero caressed Ayanna's dark hair and kissed her cheek. Her mother came in, smiling and bearing a plate full of things that smelled...oh, heavenly! "You two are so adorable!" she exclaimed. "It's almost enough to make me wish I had had a girlfriend when I was your age." "MOM!!" "Watch where you say those things, dear," said her husband playfully as he passed behind her. He pinched her behind "just to make sure", and kissed her ear. "Oh my. And you weren't any less curious when you were sixteen?" "Oh, didn't you know? I was attracted to girls just like they were. So Hero just might take after her daddy." "Dad, come on!" she blurted. "I'm not gay, I'm bi!" "Oh, so it's mommy you resemble." "You guys..." She chuckled and rolled her eyes; the two older ones smiled and kissed each other. "So?" said Mrs. Love, "Isn't anyone going to take one of my cinnamon cookies? Your bi-curious father and I worked so hard on them." Her husband swiped one of the cookies and took a deep bite. "Dear, you're more gay than the lot of us combined." "Say that again later tonight!" "Oh, but...so many pieces of mistletoe...and Santa must get at least one kiss from the fine Madame." The two laughed and teased each other, their daughter watching fondly. So, even after all this time, they still loved each other like they were newlyweds... "Your family's the coolest," whispered Ayanna once they were alone again. "I really envy you." "Yeah...I do wish more people grew up like me. God...sometimes I don't feel worthy." "You?" Hero nodded and smiled. "The whole punk-girl thing, and on top of that, being bisexual. And still. They freaking adore me. Even my siblings! Ayanna...I really wish you—" "Don't." She pressed her lips to Hero's mouth and kept them there. "Just hold me. And let me stay for dinner." "You can stay the night if you want," she offered. "I...got you a present." "You did?" "Mm-hm. Did you get me one?" "Yeah," she whispered seductively. "You can unwrap it...when you get to bed." The two giggled and spent quite a bit of "quality time" on that couch, and only moved to avoid a scolding from the parents. After all, it was Christmas. Why waste it sitting on one's bottom? So Ayanna helped trim the tree, which by Love family custom, was never even put up until the 24th. There were no presents under the tree, partially to prevent peeking, but also to increase the surprise. Hero's parents assured her that, as a friend of the family, she would have a present under the tree the coming morning, but more importantly, she would have a place at the table and in their home, even if she and Hero broke up. Their kindness made her eyes misty, so she excused herself to the bathroom. If only...pops were here... She came back and gave Hero a hug. They danced, the whole group of them, until it was time for evening services. Even Ayanna, who shied away from churches usually, attended some kind of Christmas service (and Easter, of course)—it just seemed expected. The whole family packed itself into one car and drove off, braving a gentle snowfall and a quickly-approaching night sky. They wouldn't be able to see the stars because of the cloud cover, which was a pity, since astronomical observation was also a Love family Yuletide tradition. But a White Christmas was just as good. Ayanna sat with Hero's family during the service. She held Hero's hand most of the time. She didn't take communion nor did she give up an offering (as a guest, she was discouraged anyway). She sang all songs she knew—of course, carols and hymns were roughly the same thing during December—and even bowed her head and closed her eyes for prayer. Hero knelt. God... Is there a God? I must believe in Him now, because the girl I love believes in Him. Even though she loves me in an "improper" way, she still calls herself a Christian, and still believes God loves her. I wish I knew more about what God thought about our relationship—not other gay couples, but us specifically. Are we doing the right thing? Are we sinning? Am I just lying to myself every time I come here? Should I break up with Hero and let her commune with other "believers"? It is said that believers should not be unequally yoked, and if so, this is about as unequal as it gets. God help me. Dear God, I love her, but I don't know what to do. Show me your will, O Lord. Please soften other people's hearts, and remind them that everyone has sinned. They cannot point out ours and overlook their own. Let them see how much we love each other; we mean no harm. Dear Lord, please walk into Ayanna's mother's life, and let her see what she has done. I hope she comes around and takes Ayanna back, but if it is Your will, we will take her into our home. I know I am not to be unequally yoked, but I feel as if...I can make a change in her life. God, hear my prayer. Amen. "Lovely service," commented father Love. Mother Love agreed and gave sweet hugs all around, even to Ayanna. She replied, albeit stiffly, but loosened as Hero hugged/tackled her. A few people stared as they kissed, but Hero didn't seem to mind. One came up and cleared his throat. "Hero...may I speak to you for a moment alone, please?" "Chuck, whatever you've got to say, you can say it in front of the people I love." "We don't mind," said her mother. They excused themselves and took Ayanna with them, leaving their daughter alone. She sighed and stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Chuckles, I know what you're gonna say, but we love each other." "I'm not here to judge you, Hero. I just want you to be careful, to consider what you're doing. You know what we believe." "Yeah, yeah." "Hero...if this is a struggle—" "It's not!" she blurted angrily. Chuck was quiet. She sighed. "Actually, it is. Constantly. I want to do the right thing, and I want to be with her, and I keep on hoping that the two will end up being the same thing, or at least agreeing." "But you know..." "Yeah," she whispered. She reached out to hug him, and held on tight. "It's hard, Chazz. It really is. I don't even see myself as bisexual anymore, just...in love. I'm in love with her, and right now, she needs that love in her life." "...I think God can justify that at least," he said. She grinned weakly, and let go. "Look, Chazz, I gotta pray about this some more. I mean, no matter what, Ayanna needs my love. I'm just...sort of being drawn to her the more love I give her. And you know me, I'm all about Love." "Oh yeah." They shared a grin and shook hands. "Well, it was nice seeing you. I gotta run, though. Please take care of yourself. I do encourage you to love her, but just...be careful. Okay?" "Will do. Feliz Navidad." "Bien Noel to you too." "Who was that?" asked Ayanna as Hero rejoined her family. "My youth minister. He's cool." "Oh." ......... T'was the Evening of Christ's Mass and all through the pad There were plenty of Sapphic fantasies to be had Hero was snuggled in bed with her jammies so light And Ayanna, her sweetie, was out for the night No doubt squeamish for gifts and her beloved's own presence Dreaming of chestnuts and pudding and ripe roasted pheasants Ayanna's two hands reached out for her Love And squeezed round her tummy like ye old turtledove Higher they'd go, till' they wrapt round the breast And there on Love's bosom did two tender hands rest Love, for her part, was honestly horny And wished, but to God, that soon it would be morny Her hands traveled south and touched her special place Wishing, not to visit, but in fact for a race! She could feel Ayanna's whispering breath on her head Saying "I love you, dear Hero," her face turning red So around did she turn to embrace Montgomery To kiss her silky neck and to rub her tummery And hotter, they'd go, but for Hero's anxious words "I love you, Ayanna, but this is for the birds. We can't have sex, see, certainly not on this night Christmas is the one year I don't want such a plight So hold me close, yea, and touch my pale skin But please, O beloved, with not so much din For I sleep now, but barely; I wish we could screw I'd rather abstain, love, because I love you." And Ayanna, dear duck, saw the smile in her girl And then did her lips, O blessed, did curl! "Hero," she whispered, "now I do love you more For it is your belief that has this eve scored Your ideals are beloved, your faith is so sweet I agree; so now to Slumberland must we meet And dream of what may, what might, and what will." The two then did sleep, their sex was now nil And soon the sun rose, though clouded in snow And away, to the tree, did the two lovebirds go! T'was the morning of Christmas, and all through the house Every creature was stirring, except for the mouse. Because Mr. Love set traps. As was custom, the youngest members of the Love family opened their presents first. They had three gifts each, plus a stocking full of small candies and toys; Hero, the eldest female child, waited patiently and made little comments as her brother and sister tore into their presents. What a mess! She herself playfully shook a few before unwrapping them: one was a better television, which she had been asking for since July (her old one was pretty much dead), and another was, of course, her favorite movie on DVD, The Magnificent Seven. She gave daddy a kiss for that, then opened her third. Hero Teresa Minerva Love was speechless as she unveiled before her family and girlfriend a gorgeous, long, strapless white dress, decorated brilliantly. It had plainly cost a fortune, and was obviously meant to be worn at prom and other special events. She gasped and embraced both her folks, then promised to try it on once Ayanna opened her gifts. As a guest, she was entitled to go first, but seeing the gleam in the younger children's eyes gave her a very generous feeling, and she relinquished her turn. She found it strange to receive gifts from her girlfriend's parents, but she was thankful anyway. Mr. Love had wisely bought her a phone card so she could keep in contact with Hero for at least another month, and Mrs. Love had found a nice lamp she believed Ayanna would like (she did). Hero's gift, however, was special: a homemade photo album of the two, plus a homemade necklace with a special locket, plus a bracelet and a hair scrunchie she knew Ayanna needed (topped with a kiss). The two embraced, and once the mess was cleaned up, boxes recycled and things cleared away, papa Love invited everyone for a nice breakfast. So Ayanna spent Christmas with a family that was not hers, yet felt more like her own relatives than anyone she had known. Once she had some free time, the first person she used the phone card on was her mother, calling her to try and speak. She got no answer from home. Holiday blues indeed. "You think she's still mad?" asked Hero, wearing a cute red Santa hat. Ayanna sighed. "Knowing her, she'll be pissed for the rest of the year." "Give it time, babe," she encouraged with a kiss. "Try again some other time. Right now, I got a dress I gotta model!" "Yeah, and a few more photos we need to add to this book." Still, despite their festive mood, part of Ayanna's mind was still in a slough. Thoughts of her mother, her position with the church and God, the constant friction she and Hero ran into at church, and the kindness of the Love family tugged at her. She was in exile; she truly felt home. She was alone; she was beloved. She was both atheistic and joyful to the Lord; she moped in the middle of falling snow and sang Hallelujah. I've heard there was a secret chord That David played, and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do you? It goes like this: The fourth, the fifth the minor fall, the major lift the baffled king Composing Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Your faith was strong But you needed proof You saw her bathing On the roof Her beauty and the Moonlight overthrew you She tied you to a kitchen chair She broke your throne And she cut your hair And from your lips She drew the Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Maybe I've been here before I know this room I've walked this floor I used to live alone Before I knew you I've seen your flag On the marble arch Love is not a victory march It's a cold and It's a broken Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah There was a time You let me know What's really going on below But now you never show It to me, do you? I remember when I moved in, you Your holy dark Was moving too And every breath we drew Was Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Maybe there's a God above And all I ever Learned from love Was how to shoot At someone Who outdrew you It's not a cry You can hear at night It's not somebody Who's seen the light It's a cold and It's a broken Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Next chapter: Evening Alone
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