Christmas Inn Maine

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “So, I understand that you were a little uneasy about the car situation and I just wanted to assure you that we don’t expect you to pay us back. Craig did the work out of the goodness of his heart. It’s what Sterlings do.” Was she going to whip out the family crest?

  “I understand that but it still . . . it feels like charity. And I’m already staying here for free, eating your food, taking up a room you could be making money on.” My stomach kept knotting in new and unpleasant ways, and I wanted this moment to end. This was horrible.

  “I know you had this grand plan of spending Christmas by yourself, but I’m glad you’re here, Colden. I’m happy to have you. I think Laura is too.” Wait a minute. We were changing directions here.

  “That doesn’t mean you should hand me free stuff and pay for my car to get fixed. I just . . . I don’t like feeling like a burden.” There was a lump in my throat that threatened to choke me.

  “You’re not a burden, Colden. You’re a joy to have around. We’re so happy to have you with us.” I thought she was going to hug me again, but she didn’t. She stood there and waited.

  “I'm not ungrateful. I’m so grateful. Beyond words. I’m just not used to it.” I had gotten out of practice with people caring for me. I just really missed my dad. Times like this reminded me of the wound in my chest where parts of my heart used to be that were gone now. There were days when they didn’t hurt with every breath I took, but today was not one of those days.

  “Laura hasn’t told me, but do you have any family?” I knew this question was going to come up. It always did. Surprising that Laura didn’t tell her mom.

  “My mother was never around and I lost my dad to a brain tumor three years ago. So it’s just me.” Saying it was so sad, it was hard to believe that it was my actual life. If someone else told me that story, I’d feel sorry and want to hug them.

  “I’m so sorry about both your parents. That’s not easy for anyone to go through, at any age.” I shrugged because what else was there to say about it? I’d gotten through it? I was still breathing? I had to keep moving because if I stood still too long and thought about it, I might not want to go on?

  “I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable with the car, we should have asked, but I saw a chance to do a good deed and took it.” I got what she was saying, and I knew in some ways, I was being a pain about it, but I didn’t know how else to be.

  “It’s okay. It was just a shock and I’m still processing.”

  Laina gave me a warm smile.

  “Take all the time you need. And I really wish you would stay with us until Christmas. You don’t have to decide right now, but I’m extending the invitation. We would all love to have you.” I couldn’t give her an answer to that right now. My initial feeling was to reject the offer and go back to Boston, but something stopped me from saying that right out. Maybe it was hunger. Maybe it was the warmth that I felt when I was around them. Maybe it was curiosity to see Laura interact in her natural habitat. Whatever it was, I was sticking around. For now.

  “Come on, let’s go have dinner,” Laina said, leading me back through the kitchen and into the dining room. I was seated next to Laura’s Uncle Dan, who I hadn’t had a ton of interaction with yet, but who I was curious to get to know. Being trans myself and everything.

  Laura came around and told us the specials, but nothing struck my fancy so I scanned the menu.

  “What are you going to get?” Uncle Dan asked, leaning over a little.

  “I have no idea. Everything here is so good.”

  “The baked chicken dinner is a religious experience, let me tell you. Add the black truffle garlic mashed potatoes. You’ll think you died and went to heaven.” That did sound amazing.

  I cleared my throat after I put in my order.

  “So, um, I’m not sure if Laura has told you?”

  “That you’re nonbinary? Yes, she has. Are you also trans?” I nodded. It had taken me a while to come to terms with using the word “transgender” to describe myself, but I’d gotten here.

  He grinned at me and a dimple popped in each cheek.

  “It’s nice to have someone else who understands, isn’t it?” Yeah, it was. I breathed out and some of the knots in my chest started to loosen.

  “I didn’t come out until I was in my twenties. It was different then, but I’ll never forget that my parents were on board immediately. They knew nothing, but they were getting books and joining groups and it was a little much, actually.” He laughed.

  “Wow, that’s great. My dad was supportive too. At first he asked me if I needed any money for surgery, because he had some set aside for an emergency.” I loved that memory. “Not going to lie, I’m pretty sure that he was a little relieved when I told him I didn’t think I was going to need surgery right then, but that it was good to know if I did someday, that it was there.” I wished I still had that money, but it was long gone, along with the house I’d tried to keep, but had also lost. I needed to get off this morbid memory lane.

  “We trans people have to stick together. Let me know if anyone says anything, or makes you feel weird and I’ll go to bat for you.” I thanked him for that. He switched topics and started talking about his girlfriend, who was in Philly with her family, but who he couldn’t wait to see. They’d met online in a Dungeons and Dragons forum and had fallen in love. I had to admit, my cold, dead heart warmed up and grew a few sizes as he told me about her.

  “You going to help with the wreaths tonight?” he asked as dessert was served a while later.

  “Oh, uh, I don't know.” I’d forgotten about the group activities. At least it wasn’t Christmas Charades?

  “You don’t have to be artistic. We’ll teach you how to do them.” I wasn’t sure about that, but I didn’t really see a choice, since they’d all pitched in to fix my car. I owed them at least this.

  “Sure, why not?” I said.

  “What are you doing?” Laura said, coming to deliver my dessert of coconut mango pie that they called “pina colada pie” and sounded like the most delicious thing I’d ever heard of.

  “Helping with wreaths,” I said.

  “Oh, good.” She walked away and I stared after her.

  “You okay?” Dan asked, and I ripped my attention from Laura and back to the delicious dessert.

  “Yeah, fine,” I said, stabbing my fork into the pie and scooping up a huge piece.

  LAURA PLAYED JAUNTY tunes on the piano while we wrapped cold, damp pine branches into wire frames and then added sprigs of real berries and bows. It was harder than it looked, and my fingers were sticky with sap, and I’d almost touched my eyes at least three times and had to pull my hand away at the last minute.

  I had to admit, I was having a good time. Everyone took pity on me as a novice wreath-maker and was giving me so much praise that it bordered on ridiculous.

  “Great job, that looks amazing,” Michelle said as she went to get more supplies from the big table covered in branches and bows and berries.

  “Thanks,” I said, not meeting her eyes. I didn’t want to give her a false impression of my feelings, but I also didn’t want to be a bitch, either. It was a fine line to walk and I didn’t know if I was doing a good job.

  I propped up my finished wreath and had to admit that it wasn’t that bad. I didn’t think anyone would be upset with it. I carried it to the pile of finished wreaths and added it. I’d already done three and I was ready to be done, so I hit the bathroom to try and remove as much of the sap as possible before I drifted over to the piano.

  “You should have a tip jar,” I said, as she paused between songs and drank from a bottle of water.

  “No one would tip me. They’re all family, except for you and like five other people.” Customers at the inn were scarce and were usually coming or going on journeys to other places. Almost the entire inn was Sterlings, Minnie, and me. I was completely outnumbered.

  “I’d tip you,” I said, and wanted to take it back the second the words were out of
my mouth. It almost sounded like I was flirting, which I definitely didn’t want to do. Not with Michelle, sure as hell not with Laura.

  “Your uncle Dan is cool. We talked a lot about trans stuff.”

  She plinked out a little tune and then another, not playing anything in particular. “Yeah, he is. He was the first trans person I ever really met, and I think it’s because of him that I realized I was a lesbian. He opened the door for a lot of us in the family.” She looked up at me and I froze for a moment, leaning on the piano. Those eyes of hers were just . . . had I ever noticed them this way before? I’d seen her nearly every day and I had never really paid attention to them. Yes, they were brown, but more than that. They had the smallest flecks of bright gold in them and the subtlest dark brown ring around the iris. Not just brown at all.

  Someone yelled something in our direction and Laura snapped her eyes shut and turned toward the heckler. It was Mel, one of her aunts, and her wife Sue, yelling out requests.

  “Back to work,” she said with a sigh, as she started to play “Baby It’s Cold” and there was a chorus of boos.

  “What’s up with that?” I asked as Laura played.

  “They do this every year. Let the discourse begin. The yelling will start to escalate any minute now.” She shut her eyes and gave her body over to the music and I watched as the discussion did escalate. Wow, this family could really have a disagreement in dramatic fashion.

  “You have to take the song in the historical context it was written!” someone yelled.

  “It’s still a shitty song!” someone yelled back.

  “Language!” Lillian called out. I’d never seen anything like it. I’d thought things would come to blows, but then Laina brought out eggnog, and everyone agreed to disagree for another year and toasted one another.

  “You family is bizarre,” I said, as Laura took another break and looked over her shoulder at them.

  “Yeah, they are.” Laina came over with two mugs of eggnog. I didn’t need to ask if there was rum in it. I could smell it a mile away.

  “Be careful. Your father was generous with the booze this year.”

  “You say that every year,” Laura said, sniffing the mug and wincing before taking a sip and sighing in pleasure. I didn’t want to admit that I’d never had eggnog before. I didn’t like the idea of a drink with eggs in it, and the word “nog” was weird. I looked into the cup with the thick cream-colored liquid that was studded with sprinkles of cinnamon and nutmeg. The smell alone was enough to make me try it and when I sipped, I was surprised. I’d thought I would taste egg, but it wasn’t like that. The little hit of spiced rum warmed my throat and belly.

  “Oh, that is really good.” I’d have to be careful, because it had more than a little bit of rum in every cup.

  “Be careful,” Laura warned, before she took a dainty sip of her cup. “You don’t know how many relatives have gotten wasted on this stuff over the years. Last year Mel and Sue ended up singing karaoke so loud that the neighbors complained. It was a whole big thing.” I kind of wished I could go back in time and see that. Mel and Sue were my two new favorite people and I wished aunt adoption was a thing, because I wanted to have them as aunts.

  Laura had no idea what she had, and if I sat down and thought about it, I’d get really angry, so I had to not think about it. She was so lucky and so fortunate to have such a big family around her who completely adored and supported anything she wanted to do. It wasn’t her fault, but I could feel jealousy simmering deep in my stomach along with the eggnog.

  “Is it bad that I want to get them drunk so they’ll do it again?” I said, and Laura laughed.

  “Just be careful what you wish for.”

  Warm and sleepy from the eggnog buzz, I went back upstairs a few hours later. All I wanted to do was sit and read, and just as I’d settled in after a shower, there was a knock at the door. I went to look out the peephole, but there was no one there. Curious, I opened the door and found a tray outside my room with a little note.

  I picked up the tray and brought it inside. Under the lid was a plate of cookies, some of which I had decorated. There was also a glass of ice-cold milk.

  Thought you might need a little something to soak up all the rum in the eggnog.

  -Laura

  Weird. Why wouldn’t she just have given me the tray herself instead of dingdong ditching it? Puzzled, I brought the tray to the little table next to the chair I liked to read in.

  I had been craving a little something and this was perfect. As if she’d read my mind and knew what I needed. I set the note aside after admiring her perfect handwriting for a moment. Of course she had impeccable penmanship. Was there anything she couldn’t excel at?

  The cookies made the perfect companion to the lesbian historical romance that I’d been slow reading because it was so good. This was pretty near what I had wanted for my Christmas. I’d kind of lucked into getting it in an indirect way. Sure, I had to talk to a bunch of people and now I had to try to be friends with Laura and I was in debt to a bunch of people for fixing my car, but otherwise, I’d gotten my Christmas wish, as sappy as that sounded.

  I shoved another cookie into my mouth and went back to my book.

  Six

  “You want to do something later?” Laura asked after breakfast the next morning. I’d thanked her for the cookies and milk and she waved me off, saying it was nothing. Speaking of the eggnog, I’d woken up with a headache and a rolling stomach, but a nice breakfast and some extra-strength painkillers had done the trick.

  My plan had been to read at the café for a little while, take a walk, and then come back to read some more and maybe a long bubble bath with more books. I also should probably drive my car a little bit and see some more of the town.

  “What the hell is there to do around here?” They didn’t even have a movie theater or a bowling alley. Nearly everything else was only open in the summer.

  “Well, I need to go to the post office, the bank, I need some groceries from town, and wiper fluid for my car. If I buy you lunch, will you come?”

  “How about I buy you lunch for a change?” I said. I had enough cash for that.

  “Deal,” she said. “Meet me in the lobby in an hour?” I agreed and went back upstairs to my room.

  What the hell had I just agreed to? Less than a week ago, if Laura would have asked me to have lunch with her I would have told her to kiss my ass. Well, I wouldn’t have put it like that, but I definitely would have turned her down. This place was affecting my brain.

  The familiar feeling in my stomach had returned, so I mentally tested out my pronouns and ‘they’ was working more for me today. I tried to convince my brain that ‘she’ could work, but there was that gross sick feeling that meant it was wrong for now. That could change in a few hours, and it had before. Sometimes I hated it. At least I knew that Laura would respect the change in pronouns, and Dan would go to bat for me if anyone else had a problem with it. I missed my pin, because it made the announcement for me.

  I read until I needed to meet Laura, and I was excited to see more of the state. I’d kind of been on autopilot when I’d driven up here, and I’d been so focused on getting to the cottage that I hadn’t really been looking at my surroundings.

  “Hey, you okay?” Laura said.

  “Yeah, why?” I asked. It was like she’d sensed my gender feels.

  “You just look like you’re upset about something.”

  “No, I mean, not really. Just missing my pronoun pin. I was hoping that I’d be good with ‘she’ for the whole time I was here, but I guess not? So, ‘they’, if you don’t mind.” I hated asking. I still wasn’t used to it, and I put up with a lot of misgendering just because it was easier than fighting with people.

  “Got it. I’ll let everyone know. We’ve got a family group text.” She got right on her phone and spent a moment sending the message. “All set. I’ll remind anyone who forgets.”

  And that was that. We put our coats and boots on and
headed out to Laura’s car. It was better in the snow than mine.

  “I’m still mad,” I said. “About the fixing my car thing.”

  “Well, do you want me to smash the shit out of it?” Laura asked, as she backed out of the parking lot and pulled onto the main road. The weather had warmed up a tiny bit, and the roads were clear. Snow was expected again tomorrow. If this kept up, it was going to be a white Christmas.

  “No, I don’t want you to smash my car. I just wish it was fixed in a different way, that’s all.” I wish I was the one who had orchestrated and paid for it, but what was done was done, and I guess I couldn’t go back, so it was ridiculous to keep obsessing over it. No one else was making a big deal out of it.

  Laura didn’t respond as she headed down the road to the post office first.

  “Do you want to stay in the car?” she asked.

  “No, I’m not a dog. I’ll come in.” Sure, I’d brought a book, but I also did want to see more of the town and the sun was out, so this seemed as good a time as any.

  The post office was actually attached to someone’s house, which was really weird. The place was absolutely tiny with only a very few boxes. It was crowded with people mailing Christmas packages and cards at the last minute. Great.

  “So, most of these are international,” the woman ahead of us said, as she plunked down a stack of cards. I almost screamed. She started filling out customs forms and I looked at Laura.

  “That’s Susan Miller. Her daughter and I were in the same grade. She was really conservative and wouldn’t let a boy anywhere near her house, but what she didn’t know was that her daughter and I were fooling around during every sleepover.” I almost choked when I tried to inhale a breath as Susan chattered away to the postal worker about her family and her Christmas plans.

  “Good for you,” I said to Laura. “What happened to the daughter?”

  “She went to Smith and only visits every few years with her wife and kids.” Nice. “Susan still tells everyone they’re just best friends who live together.”