"Tuesday's Child is Full of Grace" We lost the tournament. Ivory gave me a special Valentine's as compensation. Kiki took me shopping. Mother and I spent time in the garden. I slept alone, but soundly. That is a graceful way of putting the week into perspective. To lose the tournament was not a heavy blow to me, but not everybody else took it with such dignity. Kula threw fits, Yuki crumbled to the ground and wept, Corona and Rai expressed their distaste, and the new girl, Rozalia, was humbled. This was not to say that Stanton's team was utterly trounced—we actually fared well, and finished in the top five overall in our district, which was impressive. I was content with the team's status, and congratulated them on what I felt was a victory. I had to explain that victory and winning were not always the same—that winning could, in the long run, make things even worse for them all. "Annie's right!" exclaimed Ivory, my girlfriend. "We shouldn't mope around like this! We kicked plenty of ass to get where we are, and I'm proud of everyone, especially the new girls! If I had more money with me, I'd treat you all to a nice dinner!" "Too bad we're all broke," muttered Zane. She had done well, although she had received her fair share of bruises and losing fights. Not one of us escaped from that tournament undefeated or unscathed, even those who I felt were our best. I myself did fairly well, and was beaten good and proper by a very worthy opponent whom I respected. Ivory took her own defeats as I thought she would—sour at first—but a simple smile from me turned her face bright. I wish I could properly express my love to her. On the way home, I took her hand into mine and brought it close to my face. When she asked me what I was doing—"Just looking at you," I said, "one bit at a time." I then kissed her hand, rough and calloused, touching her bruised palm with my lips, here and there. We had kissed each other's hands many times, and I knew this simple gesture would bring her little jolts of pleasure. The nerves on our fingers are sensitive, so what better place, save the lips, to kiss? "You are so wonderful," she sighed. I blushed humbly, and let her cup my cheeks. I eagerly accepted her lips and drew her close, Oh my sweet Ivory who has been so good to me. I was so glad... "Hey!" she exclaimed, drawing away suddenly, "let's go get something to eat!!" I had actually led an idyllic life for my first six years, but times changed for the worse, and things became hard on us. My father, a man I have not seen recently nor have any intention of seeing ever again, lost his job, and subsequently his mind as well. He spiraled into depression, which led to his abuse of us, wife and daughter alike. For ten years we both weathered his storms—mom took a job just to avoid him, and I was encouraged to learn various degrees of martial arts so I could at least defend myself—but finally we had enough. My uncle and aunt, good people I loved, forced my mother to move in with them, and had my father arrested on more counts of domestic violence than I could tally. Our recovery was Herculean and tedious. I withdrew completely, becoming quiet, weak-willed, insecure, and depressed. I lost all my friends, except for a few in my karate classes, and was perceived as some Ice Queen, distant and cold as the deathly Pluto. I was misunderstood—the karate queen that had no friends was surely up to no good, and would doubtless become a troublemaker. If only they knew the pain I had went through, the poverty and the loneliness, the isolation, the suffocation! I can confidently say that Ivory Tran, in more than one way, saved my life, and for that alone I shall always love her. "I love you," I whispered as she bought my dinner. She turned red and smiled shyly, a sign that she still enjoyed hearing that. "I love you too, sweetheart." We kissed, and I couldn't help but weep. I took her in my arms and cried on her shoulder. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed by the way life has treated me, from good to terrible and back again, and each day is an improvement over the last. Mother has a new love, one whom I adore, and of course there is Ivory, the beautiful wildflower, pushing and prying me out of my shell with unlimited patience and persistence. It took me by surprise to learn of her infatuation; my fragile heart yearned to be loved, even if it was by another girl, and so I extended it out for her to receive. Through many troubles, she has taken it and cared for it, treating it like a porcelain doll, so exquisite and tender. She didn't know it yet, but when we took showers together after kendo class, I always snuck glances at her body. I loved the way she looked, whether naked or clothed, blonde or black-haired, grinning mischievously or smiling beatifically. I was attracted to her body and her smile, and that all-important aspect called soul—and yes, one could say I even lusted for her, though certainly not in the same way she lusted after me (yes, I knew about that). I wanted to go further, but that was my untested emotions talking, not rationale. Rationale explained that I must take Ivory slowly, carefully, descending a little bit deeper every moment, until at last we arrived at the very center, unable and unwilling to go back. I loved being with Ivory, of course, but I also loved spending time with my family. Lately these days, I have seen less of my aunt and uncle, perhaps due to my mother's deepening relationship with Kiki. I get the feeling that mom will eventually move out of that house, into her own place (or else Kiki's), and start her proper life. I'm thinking that could happen once I graduate; they don't seem to be in any hurry in the meantime. I don't talk about these things to either of them when I spend time with them, just things here and there that seem to be of interest. Like when Kiki takes me shopping, "I think your mother might like this." "On you or her?" She laughs. "Well, I guess there'd be no harm in sharing." "It's lingerie," I noted, chuckling. Her smile was so beautiful! "Well, when you're our age, more than a few crazy thoughts will pass through your head. Do you think I should get this?" "Umm...well, she's really more into negligees. I think she'd love a new straw hat." "And gardening tools too? March is just around the corner." "Not according to this weather," I noted. It was a cold February day, almost a week before Valentine's, which explained why we were out shopping. Kiki took me for several obvious reasons: she was not close to Ivory, she didn't want mom to know what we were getting her, she wanted my opinion, she wanted to spend time with me... I think she was still unsure of things, especially the way I felt about her, so I had to remind her how much I liked her, and how great she and mom looked together. "Really," I said, "you two are awesome. I don't have any problems at all." "I'm sorry for bugging you," she said. "I just think it's rare for this kind of relationship to happen. A woman divorces her husband and takes care of her daughter, you don't expect her to jump into a homosexual relationship. It's even more unusual for the daughter to accept things and like them. You're a really fine young lady to do all that." "I just want my mom to be happy," I answered bashfully. She beamed at me, and resumed her shopping, eventually taking something I believed mom would like. She also wanted to get me something, and even though I said I didn't want anything, she insisted. I left her to shop in privacy for a bit while I scoped out something for Ivory. How does one present a Valentine's gift to a person that they love so deeply, one who has meant so much to them? I eventually settled on a silly book called 365 Ways to Kiss Your Love, knowing she would put it to good use. I can't help but wonder whether my beauty was a curse or a blessing. Even strangers tell me how gorgeous I am, singing about my prime chocolate hair, my tall athletic frame, my frosty eyes and French-Korean features. Would Ivory have fallen in love with me if I were more plain? Would it be more difficult for people to spread rumors about me if I didn't look so haughty? I fought to compensate for this affliction, choosing humility over pride, consideration and helpfulness for selfishness, and grace instead of cruelty. Indeed I would say that the latter is my greatest strength, and will remain long after my body withers and becomes weak, for it is the heart and its deeds that live, and whoever remembers that is indeed wise.
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