by Erin Zak
Stevie went to stand, but before she did, she leaned down and captured Bernadette’s lips one more time. She couldn’t handle how amazing she tasted and how much it felt as if maybe every performance she’d been through had led her to this woman and this moment.
* * *
Stevie’s apartment smelled like fall and cinnamon, like Bath & Body Works smelled around the holidays. Bernadette hung her coat on a hook on the wall, then toed off her booties in the entryway as Stevie went around turning on lamps. She also heard Stevie call out, “Alexa, play Fleetwood Mac,” before she heard a door close, followed by the sound of running water. She eyed the pictures on the wall in the hall, caught a glimpse of Stevie’s blond hair in the group photo, smiled, then made her way into the open area of the apartment.
She hadn’t looked around when she was here before. It was a nice loft apartment, open ceilings, with all the ventilation shafts showing and exposed brick walls. It was small, but at the same time, Stevie seemed to know what to do with the space. To the right was a makeshift wall of bookshelves, almost completely filled, and behind that, she could see the corner of a bed as well as a dresser along the wall to the right. There was something strangely exciting about seeing where Stevie slept, as if she was allowed to see a very intimate part of her life.
To the left was an open kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. The living area was very much Stevie, tidy but lived in. The couch was gray, with large turquoise throw pillows at each end, and there were three different blankets folded and draped over the back. A giant television hung on the wall, with stacks of movies on another shelving unit that sat under the TV. She looked over at Stevie as she walked out of the bathroom. “Your apartment is nice.”
Stevie breezed past, her hand brushing across Bernadette’s abdomen. “You want something to drink?”
“Are you having anything?”
“Do you like bourbon?”
Bernadette felt her eyes widen. She wasn’t a huge fan of dark liquors, so it sort of scared her. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Yes,” Stevie said as she nodded. “Trust me. It’s good.”
She chuckled as she made her way around the side of the couch and found a seat. She watched as Stevie pulled down two tumblers, grabbed two medium sized balls of ice from the freezer, one for each glass, then poured two fingers worth of bourbon over each ice ball. Stevie handed a glass of bourbon over to Bernadette before she sat on the couch. She was close enough to touch, but not annoyingly so, which relieved her. The make-out session at the theater was so out of Bernadette’s norm. She was sort of taken aback by her behavior. She never made the first move. Ever. Kissing Stevie after trying to break up with her was so not like her. The number of women Bernadette had broken up with, walked away from, and never spoken to again was startling.
And all because of Connie…
She raised the glass to her nose and smelled the liquor. It was a beautiful honey color, and it held a hint of scent that reminded her of summer. “You sure about this?”
Stevie held her glass out. “Cheers.”
Bernadette clinked her glass against Stevie’s before she brought it to her lips. When the liquor hit her tongue, she tasted the familiarity of bourbon with a hint of peaches. It burned on the way down, as always, but then, out of nowhere, a sweet heat filled her mouth. “What the hell?” she asked with a laugh. “What was that?”
Stevie smiled. “It’s peach habanero flavored.”
The way Stevie said habanero made Bernadette’s heart start to race. “It’s delicious.”
“It is delicious,” Stevie echoed before she took another sip. “So…are you going to tell me the details about this thing with Constance? I think I kind of need to know.”
It had only been a matter of time before Stevie asked, and it was stupid of her to think she wouldn’t have to spill at least some of the details. “Like…what do you mean?”
“The details, Bernadette.” Stevie tilted her head and smiled. “You know what I mean.”
She looked at her glass of bourbon, at the ice ball, and wished she could vanish. But she needed to be honest about this. Stevie was going to leave, after all. So Bernadette’s past and everything she was going to spill was going to leave with her, right? “She was a transfer student in high school. Senior year. And because the principal knew I had deaf parents and knew sign language, they asked if I would mind being the person who would show this new student around. I said it was fine, of course, because I was an overachiever.” She paused and took a sip of her drink, then smiled at the memory of the first time she saw Connie. “She was so angry, full of piss and vinegar. She hated school, hated people, hated life. But her parents, who were both hearing, wanted her in a mainstream school environment so she could acclimate to being normal, which she also hated, because she was normal. Until her parents made her think she wasn’t. And when I met her, aside from being slightly scared of her, I treated her like I would anyone. I made sure I always used simultaneous communication with her and around her. And I treated her no differently than I treated everyone else. I think it frustrated her that most hearing people treated her differently. Like deafness was a disability even though it’s absolutely not. I used to stand up for her a lot back then. This may shock you, but I used to stand up for myself back then, too.”
“So when did that change?”
She looked at Stevie. “I’m sorry?”
“When did you start letting people walk all over you?”
“Excuse me?”
Stevie held her free hand up. “I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m saying it seems like that changed. So I’m assuming something happened.”
Bernadette wanted to be pissed off. She wanted to yell at her and say there was no way she allowed people to walk all over her. Especially Connie. But Stevie was right. “I fell in love with her,” she answered. “You already knew that, of course, but it happened somewhere around prom our senior year. We both had dates, other people. She went with our good friend Gary, who learned sign language from hanging out with us all the time. And I went with Allen, a guy I flirted with from time to time.” She stopped as the memories started, almost as if she’d hit play on an old VCR. Connie’s pink dress and Bernadette’s green clashed horribly, but they didn’t care. “Dancing, punch, cookies. Nothing crazy. But…” Bernadette trailed off, her memories pausing.
“Did anything ever happen?”
“I told her I loved her when we went to the bathroom. We were getting ready to leave, and we both had to go. I was helping her fix the zipper on her dress. She wasn’t facing me, and I just…I broke and told her, and of course, she didn’t hear me, but she knew I said something because she said she felt my breath on her neck and…” Bernadette laughed. “How embarrassing, right? Half a lifetime of being in love with someone where nothing ever happened.” The beginning of tears started to sting the back of her eyes, and she felt Stevie’s hand on her arm.
“If it makes you feel any better, I was in love with this woman once who was everything I ever thought I wanted. But I pushed her away. I was jealous and unhappy and completely fucked up from losing my parents, from not understanding myself, from life, I guess. And I acted like an asshole one night at a get-together, and I pissed her off. And that was it. She lost respect for me. She lost everything for me. And it fucking sucked. So I get it.”
Bernadette looked at Stevie, at her eyes, at the definition of her cheekbones, at her pink lips. “What could you have to be jealous of?” Stevie was gorgeous and talented, but the best part was, even though Stevie obviously thrived being the center of attention, she never made Bernadette feel as if she didn’t matter, as if she wasn’t something special. It was as if, for the first time ever, she could be someone’s number one instead of always feeling as if other people were more important. It was everything she didn’t know she could have in another person.
Stevie shrugged. “Who knows? But I was.”
“I didn’t think I wo
uld ever meet someone like you.”
“A hilarious idiot?”
She laughed. It felt so good whenever Stevie made her laugh. She shook her head before she took a sip of bourbon and felt the heat, not just from the liquor but from the way Stevie was devouring her with her eyes. “You are so far from an idiot.”
“But at least I’m hilarious.”
“That you are.”
A calm silence fell between them as Fleetwood Mac continued their serenade. Bernadette moved her arm and draped it along the back of the couch. Stevie was close enough to touch, close enough for Bernadette to reach out and run her fingers through her hair. “Please tell me your parents loved Stevie Nicks.” Stevie raised an eyebrow and nodded as Bernadette stretched her hand and moved Stevie’s hair behind her ear, then ran her fingers along Stevie’s jawline. She watched Stevie’s eyes close, heard the ice clink in her glass as she rested it on her kneecap, felt the air in the room as it continued to warm. Bernadette leaned forward, placed her glass on a coaster on the coffee table, then took Stevie’s glass and did the same. Now on her knees on the couch, she returned her attention to Stevie’s jaw. She traced along Stevie’s chin to the other side where she gently turned Stevie’s face. “You’re going to hurt me, aren’t you?” Bernadette’s voice was so soft, sliding in under the bass line of the music. She wondered if Stevie heard her. But then Stevie’s eyes filled with tears, her chin started to tremble, and Bernadette knew she’d been heard. And her fear was echoed in Stevie’s eyes. But was Stevie afraid she was going to hurt Bernadette? Or was Stevie afraid Bernadette was going to hurt her?
It didn’t matter what the answer was. Bernadette pulled Stevie close and let her cry, Stevie’s head pressed against her chest. It wasn’t how Bernadette hoped the evening would go, but it was still perfect.
Chapter Thirteen
It was never easy hiding things from Connie. Nine times out of ten, Bernadette broke down and told Connie the truth. Even if Connie wasn’t asking. Even if she didn’t seem as if she knew a damn thing. Bernadette would crack. She hated how she couldn’t keep parts of herself away from Connie. She wanted to, but it didn’t happen that way.
So going Christmas tree hunting with Connie, Finn, and Rosie was probably not the best situation to throw herself in, but it was a tradition. Instead of fighting it, Bernadette talked herself into going. This thing with Stevie was growing into a very important part of her life, and yes, she wanted Connie to be happy for her, but she also knew it wasn’t worth rocking the boat. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready to tell Connie, even if she knew it would eventually come pouring out of her like water over a poorly built dam. For now, she was doing great. She was holding it in like a champ, and she was very proud of herself.
“Mom, this one. Look at this one.”
The tree farm was located in the middle of nowhere in Indiana. It was perfect, though. A total Christmas experience. Even Santa and Mrs. Claus made an appearance every day at the same time. There was an ornament shop, a café, a restaurant, and a petting zoo. The trek to Hensler’s Tree Farm was one of their favorite things to do together. But even though they had a thousand trees to choose from, Connie never could find a tree she liked. It took hundreds of tries. Eventually, she’d find one, but the same thing happened every single time. And it was happening again in the same fashion it always had before. Finn would point out tree after tree after tree. Bernadette would like every one of them. And Connie would turn her nose up at them. Bernadette put her hand on Connie’s parka-covered arm and pointed toward a tree where Finn was standing in presentation mode for what seemed like the eighty-ninth time that day. Connie shook her head. “It’s too short,” she signed. Bernadette smiled when Finn rolled her eyes and groaned.
“She’s the boss.” Bernadette laughed as she signed. She received a nudge from Connie as she gripped her paper cup of hot cocoa. “Well? You are.”
“You know I need a perfect tree.” Connie spoke the words instead of signing them. Bernadette knew she was trying to speak more and more, and she wasn’t sure why. Connie hated how she couldn’t form all the words correctly, but the more she practiced, the better she got. It seemed this was Connie’s attempt at personal growth and being more comfortable with who she was. Her readings were filled with that lesson, so maybe she was taking her own readings to heart. She wasn’t sure, but she knew better than to question it.
“Aunt Bernadette?”
She turned her attention to Rosie, who had been way ahead of them, lost in her own world. She was the more introverted of Connie’s kids and the most sensitive. Finn didn’t give two shits what anyone said. “Yes, honey?”
“Do you think you could talk to Mom about me going to college in New York City?”
The fact that this high school senior wanted to go to New York City, the very same place she was preparing her heart to lose Stevie to, was a little unnerving. She glanced at Connie and then at Rosie. Clearly, this was a convo Rosie wanted to have in private. She released Connie’s arm and signed, “We’re going to go look over here. You stay with Finn.” Bernadette turned and grabbed Rosie’s arm as the two of them walked through the rows of trees. “Why do you want me to talk to her?”
“Because I already did, and she refused. She got insanely mad at me and wouldn’t look at me for two days.” Rosie pulled the sides of her knit cap down and sighed. “I want to do NYU’s creative writing program so badly. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so passionate about something. And she doesn’t get it. She, like, doesn’t want me to leave or something. I mean, I love Chicago, but damn, I want to spread my wings and fly a little. Y’know?”
Bernadette smiled as they walked down a row of very large, tall trees. They were so majestic, and the only thing that would have made the moment picture-perfect would have been if it was snowing. “You know she won’t listen to me.”
“I know. But I think if she knows I went to you, she might listen to me.” Rosie shuffled quickly in front of her and stopped so they were facing each other. “I know you, like, love my mom or whatever. I’m not stupid. I know it’s that whole unrequited love thing, too. I get it. And I’m not saying this for any other reason than you understand her. In a way that I don’t. And neither does Finn. And honestly? Neither does my dad. So, like, can you please help? Because I’ll die if I have to stay with them after high school.”
Bernadette was shocked speechless. Was Rosie, young, sweet, introverted Rosie, calling her out for being in love with her mom? What the hell?
“And listen, you need to probably find a nice woman who’s gonna love you back.”
She widened her eyes.
“Am I being too forthcoming?”
“Um, yes.”
“I’m sorry,” Rosie said, and her face fell.
She put her hand on Rosie’s forearm. “Don’t. It’s fine.”
“Please, Aunt Bernadette. You know how suffocating she can be. Like, she doesn’t want people to live. And I don’t get it because she basically tells strangers to live their lives to the fullest—YOLO, and all that fucking crap—and then she won’t let the people closest to her live. I just…I don’t get it.”
How did this kid get so smart and intuitive? “So you want me to do…what, exactly? Talk her into letting you? Or…?”
“I want you to tell her how important it will be to me. I already got accepted. I’m going with or without her blessing. But with it will be a lot easier.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll talk to her.”
Rosie lunged forward, threw her arms around Bernadette’s neck, and hugged her tightly. “Oh God, thank you so much.”
“You owe me,” she said after she caught her breath from the monster hug. “Big-time.” They laughed as they made their way back through the trees and over toward where they’d left Finn and Connie. As they came through the last row of trees, Connie was smiling and held both thumbs up. She laughed. “They found a tree? It’s only been two hours.”
Rosie joined in the laughter before she sai
d, “Don’t jinx it.”
* * *
“Okay, Harper, you’re allowed to pick out one ornament, okay?”
“Only one?”
“How many do you want to pick out?” Stevie looked around the Christmas shop. It was packed with people. Almost too many people. Stevie loved people, but damn, too many at once made her slightly anxious.
“Like, five?”
“Five?” Stevie echoed. “What the hell? For who?”
“Well, you. Laurie. Gram. Mom.” Harper smiled as she reached forward and touched a beautiful ceramic lovebird. “Bernadette.”
Stevie laughed. “Harper. You are not buying Bernadette an ornament.”
“Why not?” Harper asked with a whine. “Please?”
Laurie appeared next to them with a handful of ornaments. “I’m getting all these. Oh God, I love Christmas so much. What are you two talking about? Whoa, wait a second. Look at this one right here.” She lunged at the moose riding a snowboard on the tree Harper was admiring. “I’m definitely getting this one, too.”
“See?” Harper pointed at Laurie’s hands. “She’s getting a million. Please let me get them.” She folded her hands together. “Please?”
“Stevie, come on, you gotta let her get them. It’s Christmas.”
Stevie glared at Laurie before she looked back at Harper. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you get them. But you have to pay me back by letting me beat you at Mario Kart. At least four times.”
Harper’s eyes were huge as she shoved her hand at Stevie. “Deal.”
“Attagirl, Stevie,” Laurie said with a laugh. She spun in a circle. “I love this store so much. Thank you for bringing me. I have successfully picked out a tree, all the ornaments for the tree, and a wreath. And I’ve spent close to my entire paycheck. Awesome.”
Stevie could barely stand Laurie right now. Her Christmas spirit was too much to handle. She turned her attention back to Harper, who had disappeared somewhere in the store. “Harper? Where’d you go?” Stevie followed the sound of Harper’s giggles. When she turned and walked into a smaller room of the store, she stopped short. “Bernadette?” Stevie was completely beside herself when she saw Bernadette with Harper’s arms wrapped around her waist in a hug. “What are you doing here?”
