by Erin Zak
“Did it now?” Stevie asked as she walked into the kitchen. She was smiling from ear to ear.
“I did not mean it like that,” she said as she waved her hands back and forth. She was laughing now, too, and thankfully, so was Agatha. “I meant I’m not a very good speaker. Obviously.”
Stevie slid her arm around Bernadette’s waist and squeezed her. “You’re adorable, though, so that helps.” She kissed her on the cheek and then left the kitchen carrying a pile of plates.
Agatha looked over at Bernadette. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Stevie happy.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say a word. She was uncomfortable because what was she supposed to say? She knew Stevie hadn’t been happy with a girl in a long time. But the happiness wasn’t going to end abruptly because of anything Bernadette did. It was going to be because of Stevie. So why did it seem as if Agatha was preparing to have the Don’t you dare hurt my baby girl talk?
“She’s driven. Very driven. Never wants to be thrown off. Never wants to find any sort of happiness outside her career, which I guess is partly my fault. I preached at her about not turning out like her grandfather. Or like me, a school cook who barely made ends meet after her grandfather passed away.” Agatha continued to talk as she turned the pierogies in the pan. She flipped a couple onto a paper plate and held them out to Bernadette. “Eat.”
She had only had pierogies one other time in her life, and she’d hated them, so she was nervous but didn’t argue. She cut one with the fork she was handed and blew on the steam that poured out. She slowly took the bite into her mouth and chewed. “Holy cow.”
“Best pierogies at the Bucktown festival ten years in a row now.”
“Get out. How amazing.” Bernadette shoved another bite in her mouth. It was potato and cheese, and it practically melted when it hit her tongue.
Agatha pulled the cast-iron pan off of the heat and turned her body completely toward Bernadette. “You seem like a real nice lady, Bernadette. So don’t think for one second I’m not rooting for you. Okay?”
The emotion she knew was going to make an appearance today started to rise. It was making her throat ache. Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.
“It’s gonna be awfully hard on you when she leaves tomorrow. You can always come visit me here. I love the company.”
Her stomach dropped to her knees. Her mouth went from watering because she wanted more pierogies to dry as the Sahara in the span of a single second. Did she hear Agatha correctly? Tomorrow? She blinked once, then twice, and tried to swallow, but her tongue felt larger than the space designated for it. Stevie found out about the audition and didn’t say anything to her? How long had Stevie known? What the hell?
“Now, go help Stevie set the table.”
She took that moment to leave as quickly as possible. She found Stevie in the small dining room, and as soon as she approached the table, Stevie looked up. “What happened?” Stevie asked, worry written all over her face.
“Nothing.” She reached her hand out as if to ask for the napkins so she could help set the table. When Stevie handed over a stack of alternating red and green, Bernadette noticed how thick the paper felt, how she wished she had practiced her poker face a little bit more.
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I promise.” She folded a red napkin in half before setting it to the left of a plate.
“Hey.” Stevie wrapped her thin fingers around her forearm.
She glanced up at Stevie, at her kind eyes, and noticed the sadness lurking right beneath the surface. It became clear in that very second that Stevie was holding something back. And Bernadette cursed herself for not noticing it earlier. How had she missed it? Was she too blinded by the holidays? Was she too caught up in her feelings for Stevie that she fucking forgot this was all temporary?
“You can talk to me,” Stevie said in a near whisper.
Bernadette forced herself to acknowledge Stevie’s words. The smile she conjured was half-assed, but it worked because Stevie returned the gesture and went back to placing the silverware around the plates. Bernadette’s heart ached as she watched Stevie in her skinny jeans and ugly Christmas sweater, complete with cats decorating a tree with garland and lights. Her hair had grown a bit since they’d met, and Bernadette loved when Stevie would let it do its natural wave instead of using a flat iron. She looked beautiful, as always, but that day especially, and Bernadette hated her a little for it because…now what? Bernadette wondered if Stevie was even going to tell her. Was she going to totally stop hearing from Stevie as their time together faded into a memory?
“Okay, now you’re lying to me because you’re getting ready to cry.”
Fuck. “I’m not crying,” she said as she frantically stopped thinking and started fanning her eyes. “Christmas is always hard for me since losing my dad.” She was lying, of course, because she was a horrible person and needed to distract from her own selfishness, and what better way to do that than to bring up a dead parent? She wanted to smack herself or roll her eyes at herself or something equally dramatic. She was awful.
Stevie’s soft smile as she slid across the wood floor of the small dining room was enough to make a grown woman cry all over again. Thankfully, Bernadette buttoned it up and held it as together as possible when she accepted a hug. She wrapped her arms around Stevie’s slender frame and breathed in deep with her nose nestled against Stevie’s neck. Bernadette felt as if she needed to remember every single thing about Stevie now. How she looked, how she smelled, how she sounded, hell, even how she tasted. Her mind was running a marathon trying to figure out how to handle all this without letting on that she knew, and also without melting down into a giant puddle of emotions in front of people she barely knew. Somehow, this day was taking a turn from amazing to horrible, and it wasn’t even noon.
* * *
Harper, of course, was stuck to Bernadette’s side the second she arrived. It made Stevie a little jealous because she used to be Harper’s favorite, but she also understood completely. Bernadette was incredible. And deserved the affection from anyone who was giving it willingly. It also made Stevie happy to see Bernadette smile. Her smile was so perfect, and her teeth were so white and straight, and her lipstick was a little muted today, but she still looked like a supermodel. Sometimes, it would still take her by surprise that this woman was interested in her. Of all the people in the Chicagoland area, they’d accidentally found each other, and it had been the best couple of months of Stevie’s life.
And she was going to leave it all behind. For her dreams of fame and glory and SNL. Was that wrong? Was she supposed to not go? Was she supposed to say no to the biggest break she was ever going to receive?
No. She wasn’t supposed to say no.
That was crazy talk.
Stevie shook her head as she sat next to Lucille on the couch. Agatha and Auntie Helen were playing the piano together, singing “On Christmas Day” in Polish with cousin Brandon fumbling with an old accordion, trying to get it to work. She leaned her head onto Lucille’s shoulder and tried to not let her emotions get the best of her. Leaving was going to be so very hard. Maybe the hardest thing she was ever going to do.
“You know you don’t have to leave,” Lucille whispered before she kissed Stevie on top of the head.
“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “I’ll start crying, and I can’t.”
“You haven’t told her yet, have you?”
Stevie shook her head and breathed out through her nose.
“Stevie…”
“I know.”
“You have to tell her.”
“I know.” Stevie sat up straight again and watched Bernadette and Harper as they read one of the fully illustrated Harry Potter books together. “She’s going to be so hurt.”
Lucille placed her hand above Stevie’s knee and squeezed gently. “She’s going to be even more hurt that you waited so long.”
Stevie wanted to say she knew because she did know,
but she also hated herself a little for not telling her sooner. Bernadette should have been her first call. But fear and sadness had a funny way of affecting people who weren’t used to dealing with matters of the heart.
When Bernadette glanced up and her eyes locked on hers, Stevie could tell something was going on with her. There was something in the way Bernadette’s smile wasn’t reaching her eyes. Did she already know? Did someone say something to her?
She broke the eye contact and turned her head toward Lucille. “Does Harper know?” She watched Lucille raise her glass of white wine to her lips, but before she sipped the liquid, she closed her eyes. “Oh, Aunt Lucille, why?”
“Because she heard me talking to Matt about it. And she came in, and she was in tears.”
“Jesus,” Stevie breathed. “I was going to tell her today.”
“Probably a good idea because she isn’t super happy with you for not telling her. You have got to stop that.” Lucille was looking at Stevie now. “Your fear of hurting people is going to be the only thing which holds you back.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She reached over and took Lucille’s glass of wine and downed it. “I’ll go get you more.” She stood and made her way into the kitchen. It looked as if a bomb had gone off in it. Christmas lunch was a complete success, of course, but damn, no one knew how to wash a dish after using it. She ignored the mess as best she could as she poured chilled gewürztraminer into the glass. She could hear commotion in the living room, so she grabbed a slice of cold turkey breast and a dinner roll and headed back. Her eyes went wide when she saw Bernadette sitting at the piano now, next to Aunt Helen, both playing the beginning notes of “O Holy Night.” And if that wasn’t enough to melt Stevie’s heart, hearing Bernadette singing definitely finished the job. She nudged Lucille with the glass of wine, her mouth hanging open, as she sat on the arm of the couch.
“I take it you had no idea she could sing?”
Stevie didn’t answer Lucille as she listened. Bernadette’s voice was so smooth, so rich, and when she hit the high note, Stevie’s body erupted with chills. She couldn’t take her eyes off Bernadette. Everything about her in those moments was beyond perfection. And that’s when she knew she was in love with Bernadette Thompson. Completely. Madly. Head over heels. In love. The blood pumping through her body was deafening. She no longer heard a word Bernadette was singing. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t. She was transfixed. And for the first time in her life, she was scared shitless.
* * *
Stevie wasn’t sure why, but she felt as if her forehead had the words I’m in love with your daughter written right across it in large red letters. She wasn’t nervous at all when she first met Bernadette’s mom, but now she was out of her mind with fear and worry and nerves. She never let nerves get the best of her. But that night, they were winning. She was a hot mess, and it was starting to show. She was sure of it. And when Paul laid his big burly hand on her shoulder and squeezed, she knew he was going to call her out.
“What’s up? You’re all sweaty. Too much turkey at your earlier party?”
She laughed. It was a horrible, shaky laugh that called attention to her, but she couldn’t control it. “Yeah, that must be it.” Paul chuckled when he sat down next to her on the couch. It was a typical older couch, so his weight made her shift a little, and now she was almost facing him. She’d never thought it before, but in the light from the Christmas tree, she could see the family resemblance.
He raised his eyebrows as if asking an unspoken question.
“What?” She was so self-conscious. She needed to settle down. Right now.
“You realize we all know you two are together, and we’re fine with it, right?”
It wasn’t what was bothering her at all, but for some reason, hearing those words come out of his mouth seemed to lighten the weight sitting on her chest. “Whew,” she said as she wiped her forehead off. She really was sweaty.
“Bernadette has never been this happy before.” Paul motioned toward where Bernadette was sitting across the room next to Marci. They were clearly in a deep discussion about something, and it made her chest clench when she thought about not being able to see Bernadette again. It was so stupid to think about it, but the later it got, the closer it got to tomorrow and leaving, and the thought was nauseating her. Bernadette’s smile and eyes and lips, and her heart and mind and soul…Bernadette’s everything was beginning to feel like home to Stevie. “She has never smiled like that or even spoken to Marci willingly before.” Paul crossed his left leg over his right in the same way Bernadette always did, and it made her relax a little more. “Women. Am I right?”
Stevie nodded as she eyed him. “Yeah. We’re all a bit of a handful.”
“Listen.” Paul kept his eyes on Bernadette and Marci, but he leaned a little closer to Stevie. “Did Bernadette tell you we’re moving?”
“Oh God.”
“Yes. It’s why she hasn’t said a word to me since you all got here.” He looked at Stevie. “Have you noticed?”
“I did.”
“Yeah, well, it’s what she does. She ignores people when she’s pissed at them.”
“Thankfully, I haven’t had to deal with that.”
“It’s not fun.” Paul looked back across the room. “You know why she lives here with Mom, right?”
“Your dad?”
“Yes,” Paul said as he smoothed his hand over his brown corduroys. “She was Dad’s favorite. He loved her so much, and she loved him. Don’t get me wrong. Her and Mom have a good relationship, but she was the epitome of a daddy’s girl.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
Paul smiled. “Has she told you at all about her past relationships?”
“Uh, Paul, listen, I don’t think that’s for you to tell me…”
“I agree.” Paul nodded. “But has she?”
“No. But to be fair, I haven’t asked.”
“Ah. Look…”
Something about his tone made Stevie’s skin crawl. “Paul—”
“I want to say one thing, okay?”
Stevie sighed. “Fine.”
“Neither Mom nor Bernadette is happy with this living arrangement, but Bernadette…well, I think this is her safety net. She blames Mom for her inability to have a relationship, to find someone to love. Which, fine, maybe she hasn’t found the right person.”
“That’s very possible.”
“How do you feel about her relationship with Connie?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know she’s been hopelessly in love with Connie for forever, right?”
“Okay, Paul, that’s not—”
“I know, I know. It’s not my place.”
Stevie pulled a deep breath into her lungs. This conversation had taken a turn toward uncomfortable three minutes ago, and she was struggling to maintain her composure.
“Stevie?” The urgency in Paul’s voice made her look at him. “I want her to be happy. And I want Mom to be happy. And neither of them is.”
“Okay.”
“Please, don’t tell her I said all this.”
“I won’t. It’d hurt her too much.”
Paul’s pained expression was almost enough to make Stevie feel slightly better, but she was still confused and upset about what she’d learned only moments ago.
* * *
Watching Stevie with the family made the news of her leaving even more heartbreaking. She was so good with Carly and Jesse. They took to her immediately, and Stevie was reading books with them and coloring pictures out of their new coloring books together on the floor in the living room.
Even Marci liked Stevie, which was crazy because Marci never liked any of Bernadette’s girlfriends. Or any of them that she let Marci meet. But of course, Marci sat and talked to Stevie and laughed at all the right moments and ended up asking Stevie for her autograph. Y’know, just in case.
She watched Stevie’s smile and the way she handled her family with such care and ea
se. She knew how to adapt, how to talk to anyone, how to have a good time in any situation.
And she was going to have to say good-bye to all of it.
She almost wished she wouldn’t have brought Stevie over for dinner. What was the use? She was going to leave, and Bernadette would be left explaining the hows and the whens of why Stevie was no longer in her life.
The thought alone made Bernadette’s stomach twist.
There was no way she was going to survive the inevitable heartbreak. And the further she got from finding out about it, the closer she got to Stevie telling her. How was she going to handle that conversation? Was she going to let herself cry and carry on like she wanted to? Because that was kind of what Stevie deserved. She was the one who did this to her. She was the one who wouldn’t let Bernadette walk away when she wanted to. She was the one who made Bernadette want to get over everything with Connie. She was the one who made Bernadette wonder if she could possibly do as her mother wanted and let her go to a facility.
And just when all of that was happening, all those life-altering moments she was finally experiencing, Stevie was going to leave.
“Stevie is great,” Bernadette’s mother said with her soft voice as she sat next to her on the couch after dinner. She was holding a cup of coffee spiked with Baileys on a saucer, and she looked good and healthy. And she looked very happy. It’d been a while since she had seen her mother look genuinely happy.
Bernadette held her hand to her mouth and brought it down to sign, “Thank you.”
“I think she’s good for you. You seem different these days. Lighter. Not as weighed down by…” She paused, and her coffee cup started to shake against the saucer, so she picked up the cup and took a small sip. Bernadette placed her hand on her mother’s knee and tapped lightly. Her mother smiled. “Nothing. I’m glad you found her.”
She knew what her mother was going to say. Weighed down by her, by constantly having to put her life on hold. She sat silent as she watched Stevie with Carly and Jesse. She could feel a breakdown hanging over her. All her anxiety and nerves and depression had to do was reach out and grab it. When Paul sat next to her, it was the first time in forever she was happy for his interruption.
