by Cara Malone
“He’s probably about to get his big break,” Joy said, just a little bit of sadness creeping into her voice.
“Are you worried that he’ll move away?” Mom asked. She always could tell exactly what Joy was thinking, even through the phone and two thousand miles away.
“I know he will,” Joy said. “The band is based in Memphis.”
“Maybe it’s time for you to move on from Emerald Hill, sweetie,” her mom said gently. “You could move east and then you’d be closer to all of us. I’m sure there are lots of opportunities waiting for you out there in the world.”
“That’s what Danny said,” Joy said with a laugh.
Fortunately, she was just pulling into the parking lot of the homeless shelter, so that was a conversation they could save for another time. It was scary to think about uprooting herself and moving away from the only town she’d ever known – she was born here, went to school here, learned to snowboard on Emerald Mountain, had her first kiss, her first girlfriend, her first broken heart here, and her dad was buried in Emerald Hill. There was too much history to just get up and leave like everyone else seemed to do so easily.
She parked her car and said, “Mom, I just got to the shelter so I gotta go, okay?”
“Sure, sweetie,” her mom said. “Have a good night.”
“Thanks, you too.”
“We’ll talk on Christmas, alright?”
“Of course,” Joy said. “Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, sweetie.”
Joy shoved her phone into her pocket and went inside the shelter. It was a small brick building on the outskirts of Emerald Hill, and it served about two dozen homeless, as well as a hundred impoverished families with its food pantry. Joy had been coming here since she learned of its existence during a high school volunteer day in which the kids worked on giving back to the community. She liked giving her time to the shelter because it was the one place in Emerald Hill where impermanence was a good thing. People came here when they were having the worst times in their lives, and the shelter supported them and gave them the tools to get back on their feet. Most of the time when people stopped coming back, it meant they were doing better for themselves.
“Hey,” Tyler said, approaching her as soon as Joy arrived.
He was one of the shelter’s only full-time staff members, and he was almost always there, coordinating volunteers, working on organizing the food pantry, and helping the shelter’s visitors however he could. In the time since Joy started volunteering, she’d watched Tyler go from shy teenager a year above her in school to a jack of all trades, from meal planning to fundraising to resume building. He still got a little harried around the holidays, though, when the shelter was at its busiest.
“How can I help?” Joy asked. It was her go-to line every time she walked through the door, and she asked it even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer tonight.
“Food pantry needs all the help you can give it,” he said. It was a problem every year around the holidays, and Joy was almost always the one who got tapped to try and get a handle on it.
“Sure,” she said, then headed into the pantry to get to work.
The room was small, about ten square feet, and every wall was lined from floor to ceiling with shelves of canned goods and non-perishables and personal hygiene items that had been donated to the shelter. Every year around Christmas, the donations reached their peak because of the influx of visitors to Emerald Hill and the resort.
Mostly they were purchased by generous visitors to the resort, but sometimes they came from the vacation homes of people who arrived in Emerald Hill only to realize that they’d forgotten to empty out their pantries before leaving the previous year. They meant well, thinking that the shelter could use their donations, but a lot of these goods were expired, and that left Joy to sort through them all. It was a big project that tended to reach its crisis point around the holidays and Joy didn’t mind taking it on.
She tuned into a Christmas music station on her phone, setting it on a high shelf where it wouldn’t be in the way, and then she got to work. The first step was weeding out all the expired cans, putting them in a trash bin by the door, and while she did this, Joy liked to take everything down off the shelves, stacking it all in the center of the small room. The influx of donations around the holidays made it hard for already-busy volunteers to organize the canned goods as they came in, and the result was a jumble of cans on every shelf. Joy found it easier to organize them if she just started from scratch.
She was about halfway finished sorting out the expired cans when she heard someone coming into the room behind her. She figured it was Tyler checking in, or a family looking to pick up a few items who had made the unfortunate decision to come while she had the pantry in complete disarray. The last person she expected to find standing in the doorway was Carmen.
“Hey,” Joy said, surprised and more than a little pleased. For a moment she wondered if she had gotten so absorbed in her sorting project that she was hallucinating gorgeous girls. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d come and see if you needed an extra hand,” Carmen said. She looked at the canned goods stacked in the center of the room and added, “By the looks of it, I’d say that you do.”
“Hey, I have a system,” Joy said defensively, then she set down the can of creamed corn in her hand and walked over to Carmen, pulling her into a quick kiss. “How did you find me?”
“I googled the shelter,” Carmen said with a shrug. “It’s the only one in town so it wasn’t difficult. I called the resort transport van to bring me here.”
“Your family didn’t mind you leaving them?” Joy asked.
“Apparently, dog sledding is pretty tiring,” Carmen said. “We were going to have a movie night but we made it through Christmas Vacation and half of It’s a Wonderful Life before both of my parents fell asleep on the couch. My sisters were playing some Harry Potter game in their room so they’ll be glued to their iPads for a couple hours, and I wanted to see you again.”
“Well that’s sweet,” Joy said, tucking a strand of Carmen’s hair behind her ear. “I’m just sorting canned goods, though – nothing too exciting.”
Carmen was looking around the room, at the stuff stacked on the floor and the nearly-bare shelves. She asked with a smirk, “Are you sure you have a system?”
“Yes, but I never said it was a good one,” Joy said. “If you’re having second thoughts I wouldn’t mind if you just keep me company while I sort cans.”
“No,” Carmen said. “I’ve got food pantry experience. I want to help.”
“You do?” Joy asked.
“Yeah,” Carmen said. “Granted it was on the receiving end of things. We used the pantry in our town a few times after my dad lost his job. So, what are we doing here?”
Joy wanted to ask Carmen how their luck had changed and what series of events led them to stay in one of the resort’s luxury cabins, but Carmen changed the subject so abruptly she assumed that the topic was off-limits, at least for the moment. She explained the project to her, telling her that she was working on sorting out the expired goods when Carmen walked in. She wrapped up with her perennial complaint about this project. “I just wish we had a better way of sorting donations as they come in. That’s what we do during the rest of the year, but there are so many of them around Christmas time and we’re so busy with other things that the pantry gets neglected.”
“You definitely need a better system,” Carmen said, going over to a shelf and picking up a can to check its expiration date. Joy noticed that she was still favoring her uninjured side, so she went out of the pantry and grabbed a rolling chair from Tyler’s office, bringing it back into the room.
“Here,” she said, pushing it over to Carmen. “You can do this work sitting down. Don’t stress your ankle.”
“Thanks,” Carmen said, sitting.
She started to scoot away, but Joy grabbed the back of the chair and pulled Carme
n back to her. She leaned down and gave her another kiss, longer this time. When she pulled out of it, Carmen was looking at her and those eyes stirred something pleasant and warm in Joy’s belly. She said, “Thanks for coming to the shelter. That was a really nice surprise.”
Fourteen
Carmen
It took about an hour and a half to finish sorting all the canned goods and put them back on the shelves in some semblance of order, and when they finished, Carmen and Joy took a moment to admire their handiwork. Joy pulled Carmen’s chair over to the doorway of the food pantry and they looked at the rows and rows of neatly stacked cans as she said, “We did a good job. Now hopefully it stays this way for more than a day.”
Carmen laughed, then stood up so that Joy could return the chair to the office. When she returned, Carmen suddenly felt a little bit nervous, like the room had filled with static charge and what happened next would determine how that energy was expended – whether it dissipated into the air or sent an electric jolt through her body.
Joy asked, “Do you have to go back to the cabin now?”
Carmen’s heart was pounding so hard in her chest she thought it might prevent her from speaking. She’d never felt this strongly about anyone before and Joy had a way of lighting her on fire with a glance. She managed to squeak, “No, I left my parents a note, and I have my mom’s phone.”
“A note?” Joy asked, and Carmen loved to watch the way her lips curled into a teasing grin. They felt so close to her when they were alone in this little room. Joy asked, “Did you tell them you went to a homeless shelter to meet the girl who twisted your ankle?”
“Not exactly,” Carmen said. “I said I was going to the lodge to replenish our hot cocoa supply.”
“You know you could have called room service for that,” Joy said, her sapphire eyes dancing with amusement.
“I’m not a good liar, okay?” Carmen said. “The point is that my dad will probably be conked out for the night and I’ve got a little while. What about you?”
“I’ve got all night,” Joy said, and the words brought color to Carmen’s cheeks. “Do you want to come over to my apartment? It’s not far from here.”
“Sure,” Carmen breathed, not sure she was capable of more than a single syllable in that moment.
They left the shelter, Joy waving goodbye to her supervisor, and climbed into Joy’s car for the short trip to her apartment. Carmen hadn’t seen much of Emerald Hill yet. The limousine that drove them from the airport had taken them down the main stretch of town, a mile-long road dotted with shops and restaurants, and her trip from the resort to the shelter had taken place under cover of darkness so aside from a few little cafes and boutiques already closed for the night, there hadn’t been much to see out her window. Now, Carmen was far too concerned with what was inside the car to pay attention to the town outside it.
She stole glances at Joy the whole way there, anticipating what would happen when they arrived. Carmen had been with a couple other girls, and had a few superficial relationships in college, but none of them had ever evoked the reaction that Joy did every time Carmen was near her. It felt like her heart was in her throat and the fluttering in her stomach filled her with a nervous energy she couldn’t wait to expend.
Fortunately, the journey was short, and after just a couple of minutes, Joy pulled into a parking spot in front of a row of townhouses. When they got out of the car, the world felt silent thanks to the darkness and the stillness of the fallen snow. It was only a little past nine o’clock, but it felt much later. For a moment as Joy came around the front of the car and took Carmen’s hand, it felt like time itself had stopped.
Then she led Carmen into the apartment, dropping her hand so she could go into the living room and flip a switch on the wall. Instead of a lamp or overhead light, it turned on the sparkling, soft lights of a Christmas tree in the corner, and Joy walked slowly back to Carmen. She was almost a silhouette in the low light, her hips swaying as she walked, and she said as she rejoined Carmen in the entryway, “Welcome to my humble abode.”
“It’s nice,” Carmen said, looking around.
It looked like a place where real people lived, with a well-loved sofa against one wall, some framed movie posters above it, and a small kitchen near the entrance with a rack of dishes drying on the counter. She’d only been here a minute but it already felt cozier and more comfortable than any house Carmen had stayed in over the last ten years, where interior designers dictated everything down to the coffee table décor and everything was too expensive to actually use. Joy’s apartment looked like a place where she could sit comfortably and read one of the books on the shelf below the window.
“It’s alright,” Joy said.
The space between them was quickly narrowing, and Carmen’s pulse was racing. There were no elder Castillos to burst in on them now, and she was excited and anxious in a way that made it difficult to separate the two dueling emotions. So she snorted and nodded to the poster above the couch, saying, “I mean, besides the Die Hard poster. Do you really like that movie enough to give it pride of place in your living room?”
“No,” Joy said. “That belongs to my roommate. I’ve been trying to get rid of it for years and he just won’t budge.”
“Oh, thank god,” Carmen said, laughing. “I thought I was going to have to leave. So, umm, where is your roommate tonight?”
“Memphis,” Joy said. Then she stepped forward, her body just barely brushing against Carmen’s, and she threaded her fingers into Carmen’s hair on either side of her face, pulling her into a kiss. All of Carmen’s nervousness melted out of her in that touch, and she let herself sink into Joy.
She put her hands on Joy’s hips, squeezing them and aching for her. It had only been a couple of days but the tension building between them made it feel like an eternity. She pulled the zipper of Joy’s heavy jacket down, eager to get closer to her. Carmen put her hands inside the jacket, wrapping her arms around Joy’s waist and holding her tightly as Joy’s tongue found her lower lip and her hips connected with Carmen’s.
Joy shimmied her coat down off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and then she did the same to Carmen’s coat, pulling it off her and tossing it away. Now that the moment had finally come, the one that had been running like a fantasy through the back of Carmen’s mind all evening, they were reduced to a tangle of limbs and heavy breaths and longing.
Joy brought her over to the living area, letting Carmen lean on her to take the weight off her ankle until Joy lowered her to the floor. They kissed, Joy’s tongue swiping through her mouth and sending electricity between her thighs while her hands worked at Carmen’s clothes.
They undressed each other in a mutual frenzy. Carmen tossed Joy’s shirt toward the bookshelf and the sleeve got caught in the branches of the tree, pulling pine needles down on them, and one errant ornament hit Joy squarely on the head.
“Sorry,” Carmen said, but Joy was laughing and she barely paused before yanking Carmen’s sweater over her head.
Joy straddled her and leaned down, her warm lips leaving a trail of little fires burning on Carmen’s skin everywhere Joy touched her. She kissed her neck, and then her collar bone, tracing a line down the center of her chest while her hands went to the cups of Carmen’s bra. Carmen let out a soft moan and put her hands on top of Joy’s, pressing them more firmly against her. She could feel desire building between her thighs and she wanted to share every part of herself with Joy.
Joy peeled the straps of Carmen’s bra down her arms, lifting her up to unhook it and fling it away. Carmen’s nipples stood up in the slight draft from the nearby window and Joy closed her lips around them each in turn, her tongue wetting Carmen’s skin and sending shivers of another kind through her.
She reached down to find the buttons of Joy’s pants, opening them quickly and putting her hand between her legs. As her palm slid down Joy’s stomach and found wetness between her thighs, Joy exhaled shakily and moved her hips against Carmen�
��s hand.
They finished undressing each other, rolling on the floor to pull each other’s pants and underwear off and bumping into the tree as little pieces of tinsel fell to the floor around them. Then Joy pushed Carmen onto her back again, their eyes locking for a moment in which Carmen wondered if her heart would ever beat normally again.
Joy crawled slowly between Carmen’s thighs, leaving kisses all across her stomach and over her hips as she went. When she hooked her arms under her thighs, Carmen could feel her breath warm against her skin.
Carmen closed her eyes.
Joy kissed her tenderly at first, exploring her and touching her gently. Then her tongue slid over Carmen’s skin and she let out a moan as a warm, wonderful feeling bloomed from her core. Joy’s tongue became a little more insistent, teasing and stroking until it felt like her whole body wanted to curl up into a little ball, imploding into the tip of Joy’s tongue. They stayed like that for a long time, every stroke of Joy’s tongue eliciting another little cry from Carmen’s lips, until finally with Joy’s lips pressed firmly against her, Carmen tipped over the edge.
She opened her eyes just as a wave of intense pleasure washed over her whole body and saw that she had squirmed her way beneath the tree. All she saw was twinkling lights as Joy’s tongue rolled over her and Carmen’s body collapsed into a heap of shivering pleasure.
Carmen stayed with Joy for as long as she dared, cozying up to her on the couch once the floor finally lost its charm, but around eleven o’clock, her mom called and asked where she was.
“Did you get lost on the way back from the lodge?” she teased, and Carmen looked down at Joy nestled in the crook of her arm.
“No,” she said, then fibbed a bit as she explained, “I met a girl and we’re just hanging out. I’ll be home soon.”
