by Nell Stark
She hesitated again, looking between the front door and her car. It wasn’t too late to turn around—to call Rory and tell her that the plan had changed. I could just meet her at Matt’s house tomorrow night for the party. Skip the family thing altogether. The idea was tempting. But when Sarah realized that she was letting her own family’s reaction to her queerness scare her off, she squared her shoulders and marched up the front walk. Be polite. Be charming. They’ll like you just fine.
When Sarah rang the doorbell, she was greeted by a slender woman of average height with salt-and-pepper hair. Rory’s mother was wearing a red and green apron, and she eagerly ushered Sarah into the high-ceiled foyer. A faux-pine garland wound its way around the railing of a half-spiral staircase, and through a window at the end of the hall, Sarah caught a glimpse of a sparkling Christmas tree. The décor and ambience felt so much like that of her childhood home that for a moment, she couldn’t catch her breath and had to blink hard against unwelcome tears. Goddammit.
“So,” Rory’s mother said as they made their way down the hall, “did you have a good Christmas?”
Sarah cleared her throat. “Yes, thanks. And you?”
“Oh, it was busy—very busy with so much family here.” Rory’s mother led her into a large, bright kitchen. Whatever was cooking smelled amazing. “Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the kitchen table. “Rory should be up soon. Would you like something to drink?”
Sarah requested a soda and was just about to ask what was on the stove when Rory barged into the room. She looked soft and rumpled in a pair of scrubs and a URI sweatshirt, and Sarah felt a quick surge of affection for her.
“Hey, you,” Rory said, immediately wrapping her in a big hug.
Sarah closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. Feels so good. She had to resist the urge to pull Rory even closer, and stiffened at the impulse. Jeez. Take it easy.
“Glad you made it,” Rory said as she stepped back. She grinned broadly before punching Sarah in the shoulder. “Merry Christmas!”
“Ow.” Sarah tried to scowl, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Is that how you pass along season’s greetings around here?”
“You know it.” Rory jerked her head toward the doorway. “C’mon, let’s go hang out in the basement. I have something to show you.”
“Okay, sure.” Sarah followed Rory into the family room and then down a flight of stairs. The basement floor was covered by a thick, spongy carpet, and a partition divided the room in two. The half she could see was clearly Rory’s favorite place to hang out. Two battered couches faced an entertainment center, and the shelves that framed the television were packed with DVDs. Video game cartridges and several different species of controllers were strewn on the floor near the TV.
“Look!” Rory said triumphantly, pointing to a thin white box next to the DVD player.
“Um…what is it?”
Rory rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, you must live in a hole. It’s the new Nintendo—the Wii!”
“Oh,” Sarah said. “I’ve heard of it. Just didn’t know what it looked like. Very cool.”
“I think you’ll love it,” Rory said. “Especially the sports games. Here, I’ll show you.”
Sarah watched Rory fiddle with one of the controllers as the game booted up. It was such a familiar scenario, and a sudden wave of happiness broke over her. God, I’ve missed this—just hanging out. Being in the same place. Living in their dorm room without Rory simply hadn’t felt right.
“So,” she said, sitting back against the couch and pulling up her knees. “How was your Christmas?”
Rory shrugged. “Eh. Spent it trying to avoid all the members of my extended family who think I should change my major. How about you? Did you have fun at your friend’s place?”
“Yeah, definitely.” Sarah smiled at the memory of how Corrie and Quinn had pulled out all the stops to ensure that she had a good day. “I learned how to cook a duck.”
“Nice.” Rory flipped through a series of menu options on the television. “And how about all those apps you were working on?”
“Finished and in the mail,” Sarah said proudly.
“You, my friend, are a rock star. Have you seen Chelsea at all?”
“Nah. Her family went to Hawaii for the holiday. They’re not coming back until next week.” Sarah cocked her head. She didn’t want to know, but for some reason, couldn’t stop herself from asking the question. “How about you? Seen Jeff?”
Rory let out an exasperated sigh. “Why the hell would I see him? How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing going on?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Sarah refused to buy it. Why is she being so insistent? I know she likes him. “Is he going to be at Matt’s tomorrow?”
“I have no idea, and I don’t give a fuck,” Rory said firmly. She held up two white gadgets that were linked to each other by a thin wire. “Enough nonsense. How good are you at boxing?”
“Huh?”
“Watch closely. This is the remote. This other thing is the nunchuk. You hold one in each hand, like so.” Rory stood in front of the television and held both hands in front of her face. “Now, check it out. I’m gonna box against the game, by moving my arms and shifting from side to side.”
Sarah leaned forward as Rory began to play. Sure enough, every time she lashed out with each fist, her avatar onscreen did the same. And when she ducked to the right to avoid an incoming punch, it whistled past her virtual head ineffectually.
“Whoa,” Sarah said. “This is cool!”
“And aerobic,” Rory said, slightly breathless. She jabbed hard with her right hand and succeeded in knocking out her opponent. “All right. Your turn.”
Unlike her clumsy attempt at playing Halo, Sarah took to Wii-boxing immediately. She even managed to work up a sweat as she punched, blocked, and shifted from side to side. When she finally collapsed onto the couch, proclaiming that her arms were tired, Rory fished another set of controllers from a drawer and challenged her to a bowling match.
They bowled, they golfed, they played baseball. At one point, Rory’s mother came downstairs with more drinks and a platter of gimbap, which Sarah thought was sushi until Rory explained the difference.
“Like it?” Rory asked, her mouth full.
“Yeah,” Sarah said, reaching for another piece of the roll. “Especially the sesame flavor.”
“Wanna take a break for a bit? See what’s on TV?”
“Sure,” Sarah said. “My arms feel all wobbly.”
Rory stopped channel-surfing once she found the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer cartoon film. She flopped back against the couch cushions and rested her head on Sarah’s shoulder. In another second, she had pulled away and was reaching for a nearby pillow.
“You’re too bony,” she said as she propped it between Sarah’s arm and her head.
Sarah knew that she said something in reply, but couldn’t for the life of her remember what. The sensation of Rory cuddled up against her was comforting and made her pulse speed up, all at once. It doesn’t mean anything, she told her restless body. Not like that. Just enjoy this for what it is.
But even as Sarah forced herself to pay attention to the television, she knew she wanted more.
*
An hour later, Rory’s mother opened the basement door and called down that dinner was on the table. Rory stood up and stretched. Sarah missed her immediately.
“Ready for family supper?”
Sarah’s anxiety returned, fluttering in her gut. “Bring it on,” she said with false bravado.
“Prepare yourself for twenty questions,” Rory said as they made their way up the stairs. “Especially from Dad. He’s a doctor, and I’ve told him that you’re pre-med.”
“Okay.”
“And Mom will probably ask if you have a boyfriend.” Rory looked back over her shoulder and leered. “Can’t wait to hear your answer to that one.”
The idea was so absurd that Sarah didn’t even feel panicked. She laughed
. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. They’re totally clueless.”
Thank God, Sarah thought. She took a deep breath and felt the pit in her stomach loosen. That’s a relief.
When they walked into the kitchen, Rory’s mother was depositing a large bowl of steaming rice onto the table, and Rory’s father was opening a bottle of white wine.
“Can we help with anything?” Sarah asked immediately.
“No, no,” Mrs. Song said. “Please just sit. Would you like some wine?”
“Absolutely,” Rory said. But when her father put two glasses in front of them and then added an ice cube to each, Rory visibly cringed. She stuck her spoon in the glass and fished out the ice. “So freaking embarrassing,” she said under her breath. Sarah had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“Please, start,” Rory’s mother said as she sat down. “We’re glad you can be with us, Sarah.”
“Thanks for having me,” Sarah said. “Everything smells delicious.” Next to her, Rory muttered something about kissing up.
Sarah ignored her and started passing bowls. She didn’t recognize any of the dishes, but they really did smell good, and she was excited to try some new things. Once she saw that everyone at the table had their food, she reached for her fork…only to discover that there was no such implement anywhere on the table.
Chopsticks. Uh-oh. Gingerly, she picked up the slender pieces of wood. I’m going to look like an idiot.
Rory nudged her with one elbow. “You’re looking at those things like they’re going to bite you.”
“We have forks,” Rory’s mother said, rising from her chair. “Let me—”
“No no, it’s okay. Please.” Sarah motioned for her to stay put. “I want to try it. I’m just going to need some instructions.”
Rory raised her chopsticks and effortlessly scissored them. “Hold one like a pencil, and then use the other one to make a pinching motion.”
“Got it,” Sarah said. But when she tried to latch on to a piece of meat, one of the sticks fell out of her grasp and clattered onto the plate. “Oops.”
“The bottom chopstick should remain stationary,” Rory’s father offered. He also demonstrated, expertly grabbing a shrimp. Sarah tried again, frowning as she concentrated.
“That’s it,” Rory’s mother chipped in. “Now use the top one to pinch—good!”
Sarah grinned triumphantly around her first bite. “Thanks for the pointers,” she said after swallowing. Emboldened by her success, she latched onto a large leaf of what looked like cabbage.
“Uh, watch out for that,” Rory said. “It’s kimchi. Wicked spicy.”
“I’m not afraid,” Sarah said, just before putting the entire leaf in her mouth. Immediately, her eyes began to water and her nose started to run. She chewed quickly, and took a large gulp of wine as Rory laughed.
“Told you.”
“I’m such a wimp,” Sarah said, chagrined. But at least I made everyone laugh.
Rory’s father leaned over the table to refill first her wineglass, and then his own. “So, Sarah, Rory tells us that you aspire to be a doctor.”
“That’s still the plan, yes,” Sarah said. “Though I’m not sure what kind, yet.”
“Rory has several cousins in medical school,” Mr. Song said. “She can put you in touch with them when it’s time for you to apply, if you’d like any advice.”
“Wow, thanks,” Sarah said. “That’s really generous.” She tried for the third time to grab a portion of vegetable-laden rice with her chopsticks, and failed once again.
“Do you need me to feed you?” Rory whispered.
“Shut up,” Sarah muttered back.
Oblivious to their banter, Rory’s mother was changing the subject. “Where does your family live, Sarah?”
Next to her, Rory froze, chopsticks poised between the plate and her mouth. Sarah felt her pulse jump and reached for her glass of wine. “They’re in Newport,” she said.
“Very nice. And what do they do?”
A sudden rush of white-hot anger made the glass tremble in Sarah’s hand. Apparently they disown their daughter because she happens to be queer. She took a long sip and cleared her throat. “My mom is a homemaker,” she said, concentrating on keeping her voice steady. “And my dad is a vice president at a biotechnology company.”
“Oh?” said Rory’s dad, clearly interested. “Which one?”
“Amgen,” Sarah said. Silently, she begged Rory to change the discussion topic.
“So, hey,” Rory said, just as her father was opening his mouth to ask another question. “I don’t think I told you all—part of my documentary project is going to be aired in February in a commercial!”
Beneath the table, Sarah found Rory’s foot with her own and pressed down lightly. Thank you, she thought. “Whoa,” she said aloud. “That’s so cool.”
They chatted about Rory’s film for a while, and then about movies in general. Rory’s father opened a second bottle of wine and became increasingly jovial as the evening progressed. By the time Sarah got up to help Mrs. Song clear the table, he was decidedly tipsy.
“I’m going to set up the karaoke machine for us,” he announced, just prior to disappearing into the family room.
“What?” said Rory to her father’s back. “Oh, no. We are not singing karaoke.” When he didn’t turn around, she followed him, continuing to protest. “Dad, c’mon, Sarah and I have to—”
“No excuses!” Mr. Song bellowed. “We are singing, and that is final!”
“Fuck,” Rory said as Sarah caught up to her. “I am so sorry. Maybe we can get away after a round.”
Sarah watched as Rory’s father set the machine on the coffee table and fiddled with several controls. “I’ve never seen one before,” she said. “Kind of cool.”
Rory looked at her as though she were crazy. “Cool? Clearly, you’ve never heard my parents—oh crap.” Rory’s expression was one of horror as the opening bars of “Unchained Melody” floated from the speakers.
“I love this one,” her mother called on her way in to join them.
Rory sat down hard on the love seat and stared at the floor as her father began to sing. Sarah sat next to her and patted her knee. “There, there,” she said. “It’ll be all right.”
Rory glared. “Are you ever going to let me forget this?”
Sarah grinned cheerfully. “Nope!”
Rory groaned and buried her face in her hands while her father continued to regale her mother in a rather strained tenor voice about how much he needed her love. She kept her head down when her mother chose “I Will Always Love You” as a companion piece.
“I’m going to die,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I dunno,” Sarah said, nudging her with one elbow. “I think it’s kind of cute.”
“All right, Rory,” her father announced after his wife’s valiant—though warbling—effort. “Your turn.”
“No,” Rory said, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. No way.”
“Let’s sing a duet,” Sarah said quickly, before a full-blown argument could erupt. “How about…‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’?” She glanced sidelong at Rory. “You have to mime the guitar riffs.”
Rory laughed. “I’d need more than a couple glasses of wine to do that!”
Sarah walked over to the couch and accepted the microphone from Rory’s father. “Come on,” she cajoled. “Let’s go for it.”
Rory made a show of dragging herself over to stand next to Sarah. But once the song began, she leaned in close to the microphone and let loose. When Rory’s rich soprano filled the room, Sarah realized that she had never before heard her sing. God. She’s really good!
As soon as Izzy Stradlin’s last chords faded, however, Rory grabbed Sarah’s hand and pulled her toward the foyer. “Promise kept,” she said over her parents’ protests. “We’re out of here.” She led Sarah up the half-spiral staircase, down a hall, and into a room on the left. After closing the door behind
her, she flopped onto the bed. “Whew. I think we’re safe now.”
Sarah perched on the desk chair and slowly spun in a circle, taking in the décor of Rory’s childhood bedroom. Film posters plastered the wall. There was barely any white space to be seen. Just opposite the foot of the bed was a small television, and Rory’s shelves were jam-packed with both books and DVDs.
“You have a really good voice,” Sarah said. “I had no idea.”
Surprisingly, Rory blushed. “Eh. It’s okay.” She pillowed her chin on her arms and regarded Sarah with a serious expression. “Hey…I am so sorry about my parents bringing up your family, earlier.”
Sarah shrugged. “It’s all right. Makes sense that they would. Thanks for changing the subject, though.” She smiled. “Your parents are fun.”
“Fun?” Rory scoffed. “My dad is a lightweight and has embarrassing habits, and my mom is a gossipmonger.”
“Yeah, well, they’re your parents. You have to talk about them like that.”
Rory rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her dark hair fanned out on the white bedspread, and Sarah was fascinated by the contrast. Suddenly, her fingertips itched with the desire to feel, not just to look. Her rebellious brain flashed to an image of herself on top of Rory, combing her fingers through Rory’s hair while she kissed her insistently.
“The night is young,” Rory said. “What do you want to do?”
Sarah blinked, trying not to betray her inner turmoil. Distraction. I need a distraction. Stat. “Cards? A movie?”
“Let’s do the latter,” Rory said, “since Matt’s party is all about sitting around drinking and playing cards or board games.” She flipped back over onto her tummy. “What are you in the mood for?”
Something that’ll keep me from thinking about how much I want to kiss you. “I vote for an action flick.”
Rory pointed toward a bookshelf to the right of the desk. “How about Transformers? Cheesiest movie ever made, and full of exploding shit.”
Sarah grinned, relieved. “That sounds perfect.”
After Sarah put in the DVD, she turned to find Rory patting the space next to her on the bed. “Best seat in the house.” The bed was narrow, and when Sarah stretched out on her stomach, the length of her body was in contact with Rory’s. Sarah had to fight not to press even closer. It was all well and good when Rory got cuddly, because that was clearly innocent, but Sarah didn’t trust herself.
