The road in front of Lana's house had never looked so inviting as when Mary Eunice turned off of the intersection and headed down the street toward the building she now knew as home. The icy streets skidded underfoot, and snow kept drifting down from the sky, muting any footprints left behind; the further north they drove, the more the weather worsened, and they'd donned more layers each day as they traveled, until now, when she finally pulled up in the driveway once again. Shifting the car into park, Mary Eunice placed her hand on her girlfriend's shoulder and nudged her. "Lana?" she greeted in a low, soft voice. "Lana, we're home." They had traded positions behind the wheel at some point after Lana drove through DC (Mary Eunice had sworn off of going through the nation's capital a second time, and this time, in the light of day, she got to admire the sights and the ethereal sensation of the center of the country), and Lana had fallen asleep with her head in Mary Eunice's lap, snoring in a solemn peace in spite of the thickening clouds spraying snow at them.

Mary Eunice would admit, she had prayed her way most of the way here, and part of her feared the driveway and sidewalk would prove treacherous for making their way back into the house. "C'mon, wake up." She stroked Lana's hair, combing it back out of her peaceful face, until her eyebrows and eyelashes twitched in response. One brown eye peeked up at her, a bit reproachful at the disturbance, which made Mary Eunice's tender grin widen. "We're home." She tugged the blanket from around Lana and folded it up. In the backseat, Gus whined, placing his head on the back of the seats to spy on them. "Wake up," Mary Eunice said again. "It's time to go inside." Groaning, Lana sat up, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "You can go on inside, if you want. I can get the bags."

Through narrow eyes, Lana blinked at her, before she slowly shook her head, the words settling upon her like the snowflakes upon the ground as her brain worked to awaken from its slumber. "No. I'll help." She stretched, long and languid, and found her coat in the floor of the car. "Ugh. I forgot about the snow."

"Poor, miserable southerner," Mary Eunice teased, and Lana swatted her on the wrist, both of them exchanging a smirk and a look softer than the inside of a Milky Way. "I'll get Gus. I'm sure he has to potty." Lana opened the door to her right and swung her legs out of the car. "Be careful! It's icy."

"I can see—" Lana's feet scooped out from under her, and she wrapped herself around the door with a yelp of surprise, trying to support herself. "God, I miss the Georgia weather!" Her feet scrabbled on the ice, unable to get a grip, while she righted herself and sought traction. Mary Eunice covered her mouth with her hand, stepping out of the car, Gus scrambling after her. On the balls of her feet, Mary Eunice crept over the icy ground and into the grass, led by Gus, who pulled her toward his favorite bush. "How are you so good at this?"

"You have to walk like a penguin! Feet flat!" At her encouragement, Lana pushed herself up. She waddled around the car, one hand braced on it all the way around. "Here." Mary Eunice tugged Gus off of his bush, where he had already lifted his leg and was deciding if he wanted to continue marking his land or head inside to the warmth. He whined at her insistence, but he followed along, limping through the cold snow. "You take Gus. Let me get the bags. You're going to hurt yourself." Lana slipped toward her, crossing the treacherous terrain with tiny, flat steps, until she reached the threshold where the slick concrete met the grass and took an overconfident step forward. She pitched right at her girlfriend. Mary Eunice caught her with outstretched arms, both of Lana's hands landing on her shoulders. "I've got you!" Harried brown eyes met hers. Feet still sliding backward, Lana's stature shrank; she became horizontal. Mary Eunice tugged her forward, onto the grass, giggling in spite of herself. She's so adorable.

The fat snowflakes landed in their hair and arranged a crown of melting ice for them. Even as her feet met solid ground, Lana held fast to Mary Eunice, but the panic ebbed from her eyes, replaced with affection. "You've got me?" Lana asked. Yes, of course. Forever. Mary Eunice hummed and nodded. Gus pulled on his leash at her wrist, but she ignored him. "Good. Don't ever let go." I won't. She squeezed Lana's waist tighter where her hands had caught her, an agreement to those terms.

Through the haze of falling flakes, something shuttered—the sound of a camera. "Hm?" Mary Eunice lifted her head from where she held Lana's gaze. "I—I thought I heard something."

"So did I." Lana slipped Gus's leash off of her wrist and led him away from the spot where they embraced. A nondescript black car rested across the street, window rolled down. "Hey!" The man behind the wheel flinched at her cry. He cranked the car and spun the window up as hard as he could. "Hey!" Lana jogged across the snow-covered grass, but she slid to a halt, losing her footing. The motor gunned, and the car jetted down the road. "Hey! God—fuck." Lana slapped herself on the forehead. "Who was that? Did you see who it was?" She whirled upon Mary Eunice.

"I—" Mary Eunice's voice caught in her throat. I'm sorry. "I didn't see, I wasn't watching him." I was watching you. I was looking into your eyes. She gulped the dry lump in her throat, surprised at its appearance. I forgot we weren't safe here, either. I forgot we're not safe anywhere. "Lana?"

Lana took a deep breath. It clouded in the air in front of her face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't shout." She cleared her throat. "Let's—Let's go inside. Open our Christmas presents. I'll call Walt and tell him not to run anything about us."

"Will he listen?"

"He will if I threaten him enough." Lana squeezed her hand tight. The fat flakes cascaded around them, a wintry wonderland, and formed a curtain around them. Mary Eunice batted a halo of flakes off of the top of Lana's hair. She's an angel. The cold flushed both of their cheeks pink, noses streaming. "I love you," Lana whispered, so soft that the wind might have made the sound by lashing through the branches of the trees.

Mary Eunice stroked the back of her hand with her thumb. "I love you, too." Their hands separated, blown away by the icy breeze, and she doubled back to fetch their suitcases, heart leaping to great heights within her chest.

Lana headed inside with Gus, releasing him into the house. He trotted to his rug in the living room floor and flopped down with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah," she sighed. "Me, too, buddy." She stretched, popping her back, but her whole body ached with stiffness from the days of travel. "Good god, it's cold in here." She headed to the thermostat and kicked the furnace on. I've gotta call Mama. I promised her we'd call when we got here. Reluctance plucked inside of her. She had never felt less like talking to her mother—or anyone, for that matter. I've got to call Walter, too, if I don't want those pictures being run in the paper. Fuck, I should do that one first.

Fortunately, she had no struggle getting through to her boss. "Walt," she greeted. "I asked you to call off your photographers from following me. What the hell was one doing waiting outside of my house?"

"Oh, Lana, don't overreact. It's a hot topic! You were gone, nowhere to be found! The public was worried!"

"Don't run it."

"You can't ask me not to do that."

"Not the article, you dumbass—" Lana realized a moment too late she had just sworn at her boss, but he didn't interrupt her, making a deep clicking noise of displeasure in the back of his throat. "I don't care if you run an article to tell the public I'm back in town and they can start bugging me again. Don't run the goddamn pictures. Sister Mary Eunice's priest was already mad about the last batch of them. I don't want her getting in trouble because you can't keep your cameramen to yourself. Don't use her name—nothing. I don't want her mentioned." Lana's heart skipped a beat, floundering up into her throat. Why not? She couldn't answer the question. Mary Eunice doesn't mind. Her toes curled into the thick shag carpet. I want to keep her safe.

Walt cleared his throat. "You were the first one to write an article naming Sister Mary Eunice when you publicized what happened in Waffle House in October. I'm following a trend." Lana ground her jaw, loathing herself for what she had done in the spur of the moment in an attempt to harm a bigot. "And your insistence has me worried that you've got something to hide. You know journalists aren't in the business of keeping secrets, right, Lana?"

I have so many secrets. "I don't have any secrets. I don't want random pictures of me and my friend in the newspaper. She hasn't done anything to deserve all the stupid attention. Leave her alone." He growled something on the other end of the line, but she wasn't listening. "I gave you the cooking column again. I'm sending you opinion pieces three times a week—look, Walter, my book is almost done. I'm less than ten thousand words from finishing the rough draft. And if you want me to be your oyster once it's published, you'll have your nosy vultures stay out of my business."

"Are you threatening to walk?"

"I'm promising. My foot's in the door. I've been in contact with a publisher. From here, I can write whatever I want—fiction, non-fiction—and I'm in a good position to become a telejournalist." He didn't answer her. His heavy breath fanned over the line to her, reaching an impasse with himself. I'm not going to be your sideshow attraction anymore. Lana swallowed hard, her throat dry. She had slaved over her writing in the months approaching Christmas—and though she wouldn't admit it to herself, she hoped to have payments rolling in by Mary Eunice's birthday, so she could take her to do something fun. "Walt, I don't need you anymore. I'm about to be a very wealthy woman. I'm willing to keep writing for you because I care about the Globe, but I'm not going to be your circus anymore. If you want my name in your paper, don't run anything about me, or especially about Sister Mary Eunice, or any of my friends."

Walt cleared his throat. "Fine," he said. "I'll pitch them. Merry Christmas, Lana." His words were cold. He hung up on her before she could reply.

Sighing, Lana dropped her telephone on the receiver, as well. She massaged her temples. Perhaps he wouldn't respect her anymore. I don't care. I don't care what anyone thinks anymore. The front door slammed closed, a gust of cold air following Mary Eunice as she headed into the living room. She dropped her bags in the floor and kicked off her wet shoes, hanging up her coat, before she carried the bags toward the hallway. "Hey, Sister?" Mary Eunice paused and glanced back at her. "Don't—Don't worry about unpacking, yet. We can do it later." Mary Eunice nodded in agreement. Lana spun the chair back around and picked up the telephone again, dialing for the operator. "Hi, I—I need to make a long distance call to Toombs county, Georgia."

"That'll be seventy cents a minute, ma'am. Do you accept the charges?"

"Yes." The line worked through until another operator, presumably much farther away, answered. "I need to reach the house of Landon and Helen Winters."

The phone dialed a few times before her mother's familiar voice answered the phone. "Southern Grove, 8-9687."

"Hey, Mama, it's me. We just got home." Lana placed her elbow on the desk, supporting her chin in her hand. "I think this is the most money I've ever spent on you," she teased, half-hearted and light. "I can't stay on long. Are you alright?"

Helen cleared her throat. "Lana? Yeah, yeah, I'm… I'm fine." I don't believe you. "I'm sorry. I'll call you next time, so I'll take the charges." She yawned, long and deep, into the phone. "Mm. Excuse me. Are you both well? Not too cold, I hope?"

Lana laughed in spite of herself. "I almost broke myself getting out of the car. The driveway is solid ice. I'm not very good at being a Yankee in the winter. But I've got Sister Mary Eunice to keep my head on straight." Cold hands pinched at her shoulders and ran through her hair, stroking her; she tilted her head back to look up at her girlfriend, who smiled a tender, lopsided thing. "But we're fine. Both of us. Gus, too, but he's pretty jetlagged. He made it no further than the rug."

Her mother chuckled a weak, light thing. "I still can't believe I raised you to have an indoor dog. Where could I have possibly gone wrong?" Lana grinned, leaning into Mary Eunice's soft touch. "I'm glad you're alright. I won't keep you, then, baby girl." Smile vanishing, Lana cringed, but her mother amended, "Wait—you said you didn't want to be called that. I remember now. I'm sorry, darling."

"It's alright, Mama. Are you alone?"

"Alone?" she echoed, sounding a little dazed. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm alone. Tim and Roger are at work. Frieda offered to come over, but—is it bad to say I've had enough of her kids for the next few weeks? I know I'm their granny, but living with them like that was hard. And—anyway, it can't be good for her to be moving all of them back and forth so much. Tim said he'd swing by tonight and have dinner with me. Roger's busy, though, with someone at the department." Someone at the department. Lana nibbled on her bottom lip, wondering when—if ever—Roger would come out about his relationship. Timothy could smother his, maybe forever, maybe for the rest of his life, and keep things under wraps. But Roger couldn't hide a baby or an unwed mother. He would either claim them or leave them. And she knew her family well enough, knew her brother well enough, to know he would never walk away from something he felt responsible for. "The house has been so quiet today." I know. I know how it feels. "It feels empty. I feel empty. I think this is the first time I've spoken to someone all day."

Seventy cents on the minute didn't taste as bitter in Lana's mouth at the sound of her mother's distress. "Mama? Have you been drinking?"

"`No. Not today. I—I had a drink last night to help me sleep, but not today. I'm just lonely. Listening to the radio, forgetting where I am. Church isn't having any service, since they can't find a replacement for Pastor Johnson. Sick old fucker." She cleared her throat. "I think I might get me a dog, just like you said. Big dog. Big enough to take out that bobcat if I need it to."

"I think that's a good idea."

"I'll let you go, Lana. It's good to hear your voice. I love you. Tell Sister Mary Eunice I love her, too."

"We love you, too, Mama. Call me if you need anything, alright? I'll be here."

"I will. And you call me, alright? Don't be a stranger. Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Mama." She placed the telephone back in the cradle with a small smile. Mary Eunice combed her hands through Lana's hair. Lana spun the chair around to look at her, head tilted back, lips curled upward. "I took care of Walter. We don't have to worry about anything." Mary Eunice grinned. "Let's have Christmas."

Like little girls, they folded themselves in front of the Christmas tree with their legs crossed, the tiny lights twinkling on the tinsel. In front of the window, on a backdrop of a winter wonderland, Lana pushed the first of Mary Eunice's gifts toward her. "Open this one first." Mary Eunice nudged a box at her, one of her own gifts, before she lifted up the one Lana had proffered.

She lifted the box to her ear like a child. "Can I shake it?"

"You can shake all of them. Nothing will break." Lana shook her own box. Fabric rustled inside of it. It's light. Lana's mind churned, trying to think of what Mary Eunice could've managed to get her without money or leaving the house alone. She was doing a lot of knitting. Every hour I spent writing, she spent knitting. Lana quirked her brow. She hadn't seen Mary Eunice wear anything she'd made, nor had she dropped the things off in the donation bin at church like she said she would. She was knitting for me! Lana's cheeks warmed at the realization. Mary Eunice had been making her Christmas present right in front of her, and she hadn't realized it. She hadn't noticed anything strange about her harried behavior in throwing together yarn and spinning faster, asking about the particular shade she liked best, about the texture she found softest. "Alright," Lana said, shaking herself. "On three, we open." Mary Eunice nodded, her enthusiasm glowing in her brilliant eyes. God, I love her so much. "One, two, three."

Sliding her fingernail under the wrapping paper, she rolled it back and lifted the sweater out of the box. The plain pale blue material, the shade she had said matched Mary Eunice's eyes once, glowed up at her. As her hands grazed it, she soaked in the softness of the yarn, luxurious in its texture. "Oh, Mary Eunice, it's beautiful." Intricate designs formed little flower shapes with twists and braids in the strings. "You've been working on this since October."

"Do you like it?"

The nervous voice drew Lana's attention, and she jerked her head up. "Of course I—" Mary Eunice's box rested in her lap, untouched. "Hey—you didn't open yours! You tricked me!"

Her eyes fluttered wide with surprise. "Oh, I—I forgot—I was so busy watching you, I forgot—you just looked so nice, with your…" She drifted off as Lana scooted closer to her. A pink blush trickled over her face. Swallowing hard, she tore open the package without another moment of hesitation. Inside, a simple book labelled Holy Bible rested face-up, clean and crisp and untouched. "Oh, Lana…" She lifted the brand new book from its box, the sides of the pages shiny, a velvet bookmark sticking out of the front cover. "It's lovely. You shouldn't have." Lana placed a hand at the base of Mary Eunice's spine and trailed it upward. She shivered in return. With her other hand, she flipped open the front cover of the Bible, where inside, she had written, To Sr. Mary Eunice. May this bring as much light into your life as you have brought into mine. All my love, Lana. "Oh!" Her cry, almost pained in its sound, echoed inside of Lana's chest. She dashed at the corners of her eyes with her fingertips, but it didn't stem the flow of the tears escaping. "Lana, I—I don't know what to say."

Lana kissed a falling tear away. "Don't say anything," she murmured. No one ever made you feel loved enough. It's not fair. It's not fair that you think this is special because you've never gotten a gift before in your life. "Here." She nudged another box into Mary Eunice's lap. "Don't cry. It's okay. You deserve this. You deserved it all your life." She ran her hand through Mary Eunice's hair, still damp from the heavy snow falling outside. "Open it."

One by one, they opened their gifts—Lana predicted hers, gloves and socks and a hat, while Mary Eunice found a rosary and a prayer journal for her to continue after her old one was destroyed in her possession. (Each of her gifts made her weep, so she earned a smattering of kisses from Lana, who reassured her it wasn't too much; she was worth everything she pulled out of the cardboard boxes.) Then, Mary Eunice came to her last box. She didn't hesitate at this one, her fingernails tearing into the wrapping paper and then the cardboard to reveal a stack of fabric, black material and white separately, several types of thread and new needles. "I…" Mary Eunice looked up at Lana. "I don't understand."

"You told me it's traditional to—to sew your own habit. I know you've been wearing Jude's old one for months now, since your old one was destroyed, but I thought it was time for you to get your own." Her wide eyes filled with tears once again, shining like the surface of a blue lake, and Lana extended a hand to cup her cheek, thumb fitting right on the rise of her cheek bone. "I've got a sewing machine. You can have the kitchen table, or I could move my typewriter and you can have the desk—" Mary Eunice wrapped her in a hug so tight, her breath vanished from her lungs, and she choked on it, arms hesitant to reciprocate the sudden embrace. The wet face didn't hide itself, but rather smacked a hot kiss on her cheek. Her body is so soft. She smells so good. Lana inhaled the scent of her girlfriend, face burrowing into her neck, and with the same vitality that Mary Eunice had seized her, Lana clung to her, refusing to let her leave. The tension in the hug, the muscles flexing like bear digging its claws into its prey, grabbed all of Lana's broken pieces, all the shattered bits of her heart, and stuck them back together one by one. Mary Eunice tried to pull away once, but when Lana didn't let go, she clutched her without another shred of hesitance.

Mary Eunice exhaled a shaky breath into her ear. "Thank you, Lana." Her breath whistled in her throat. "Thank you. Thank you." She rested her chin on Lana's shoulder. The weight there warmed the pit of her stomach. "I—I know it bothers you, the habit—I won't wear it if you don't want me—"

"I got it for you to wear it." Lana pushed back to tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear, greasy from the days of travel without a shower. "I want you to wear it. As much as you want. In bed, even, if you want."

The tip of her nose crinkled. "It'd be awfully itchy."

A shaky chuckle rose from Lana's throat, strained by the joy swallowing her heart in her chest which drove tears to her eyes and made her want to fasten herself to the front of Mary Eunice's shirt like a button. "Then maybe not in bed." She pecked a gentle kiss on her pink lips. Mary Eunice smiled into their tender touch. "Okay. This is my last one." She lifted the light box to her ear and shook it gently, listening to the fabric rustling inside, so she tore it open to find a scarf. But unlike the other items, which all were a monotone hue of various yarns, the scarf had started a solid forest green, and halfway through, the color switched to a bright yellow. "What's this?" she asked, pulling it up out of the box and draping it over her neck.

"I found it," Mary Eunice said. Lana arched an eyebrow at her. "Half of it. The green. Wendy had started it, and it was still attached to the yarn, but the ball was almost empty, so I switched to the yellow to finish it—because you call me sunshine." Her cheeks flushed. "I know it doesn't match everything else, but I thought you would want it…" Mary Eunice drifted off as Lana bowed her head into the soft yarn of the scarf, inhaling deeply, like she could smell Wendy's essence on the part her hands had touched, had formed with her own labor. Tears stung the back of her eyes. It's perfect. Her throat had closed up, so she reached for Mary Eunice, and her girlfriend needed no more encouragement to sweep her up into her arms. "I love you, Lana."

In a haphazard tangle of limbs, Lana slid into Mary Eunice's lap, burrowing her face in the scarf. At first, she fought to choke back the tears budding in her throat, but the lump pushed past her desperate swallows. The scarf carried a piece of Wendy, but it carried a piece of Mary Eunice, too, a special blend of both of them which blessed Lana with more overwrought emotions than she liked to consider. The sorrow wrenched inside of her gut and twisted, the knife plunging deeper each time she remembered how Wendy's arms had held her just like this. But an overwhelming joy rose up, too, something fuzzy and soft and aching inside of her, the thought, How lucky am I? repeating itself over and over—not lucky because of all she had endured, but lucky to have found someone else to hold her tight and squeeze the grief out of her like wringing out an old sponge. "M-Mary—" she gasped in a helpless sob, wrenching it from herself. She strained to lift her head, to look Mary Eunice in her azure eyes like the sky, and in spite of the snot rolling from her nose and over her lips in a thick, sticky sheen, Mary Eunice kissed her. A heavy shudder passed through her body. "Oh, god…" She shook too hard for her voice to remain steady. "You don't—You don't know what this—means—to me."

Smearing away her tears and snot with the backs of her hands, Lana tried to extricate herself from Mary Eunice's lap, but she couldn't manage to pedal away from her with her shaking limbs, and the body cradling her was so inviting. "I know how much you miss her. I wish I could do more."

Her teeth chattered. "You—You are enough—"

"Oh, Lana, I know. I wish I could take all of your hurt away, all of it." She kissed the top of her head. "I would take it all away if I could. I would take it all onto myself in a heartbeat. You deserve to feel nothing but love."

How do you feel so highly about me? How do you treat me like this? How do you love me like a queen when I have made so many mistakes? "I—I feel the same way about you." Her hands shook, sweat coating them and snot stringing from their backs. She touched Mary Eunice's face, cupping a cheek in each palm. Their noses brushed, but they didn't kiss again. "I never want you to hurt." Lana steadied her breaths, lips and teeth trembling. "You're so good—so good. You're perfect, and I don't want you to doubt that, ever. Please, don't ever doubt how much you mean to me, or how much you're worth."

She reached into the pocket of her skirt, fumbling a little, and Mary Eunice relinquished her so she could grab the silver chain she had purchased at the last gas station they had passed. It was simple, only three dollars, and she considered it worth every penny. She tugged it out, the chain threaded through the ring her brothers had given her. "Lana, that's—"

"I want you to have it." Lana untied the leather necklace with the cross fashioned from nails from around Mary Eunice's neck and fastened the new chain around her instead so the ring, the charm, fell right at the hollow of her neck. Wiping her nose with her hands, she shook her head, trying to clear it. "I bought it for you. The chain. Since we saw it doesn't fit, I—I want you to have it." Lana gave her a watery smile, the best she could manage. I didn't mean to cry all over her. I didn't expect that scarf. A single spidery hand fluttered to the ring, fingering it, and Lana smiled at the sight, Mary Eunice touching the ring which had run in her family for generations. Perhaps it ended here—after all, she had no clue what would happen to it after her death, if it would wind up in an antique shop with no name or history attached—but while she had it, she wanted to see it on the woman she loved. "It's yours now. A symbol of the part of me that belongs to you. Please, keep it."

Mary Eunice's throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her light hand left her neck, but instead, it went to her other hand, tugging away her wedding band—the one which promised her to God. A white mark on her finger marked where it had rested for so long. "Then take mine." She took Lana's hand and unfurled her fingers, sliding the delicate band onto her ring finger. "It fits you." Lana bent her hand, the weight of the ring foreign, creasing, cold to the touch. She ran her thumb over it. No, this isn't right. It reminded her of her lover, but it didn't belong to her, had no place on her hand. She slid it off. Mary Eunice's face fell in dismay. "Lana, I want you to have it."

"This is for you and God." Lana lifted Mary Eunice's hand and turned it palm-up, stroking the callouses where they smattered the area. "It isn't for me. It represents the parts of you that belong to God."

Her hand closed into a loose fist, refusing to unbend so Lana could replace the ring on her finger. "All of me belongs to God. That doesn't mean it can't also belong to you."

Lana held her gaze. "There are parts of you I cannot have. I would never ask you to give up anything for me—your faith is you, and I love you. But I can't accept this." She dropped it into her hand and rolled it up tight. "You are already married. It would be wrong for me to take something that doesn't belong to me at all. That is a symbol of what isn't mine. I won't take it from you." She released Mary Eunice's hand and touched her cheek, brushing her long hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ears. Tears rose to the surface of her eyes. "Don't cry," Lana whispered. "Do you understand? Why I can't take it?" I could not take something that was Wendy's and give it to you, she wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. Mary Eunice bobbed her head in agreement, closing her eyes. She folded the ring back close to her heart, sliding it back onto her finger, where it fit into the pale line of flesh which had borne the precious item for so long. You are not the only one of us with two loves. Lana trailed her thumb over the pad of her lover's lips.

Mary Eunice kissed her fingertips. "Thank you, Lana." She fingered the antique ring on her necklace. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Lana studied her red-streaked face in the low light of the living room. Mine must look just like that. They had both wept their way through Christmas presents like a couple of babies. "Do you want to take a shower?"

Mary Eunice blinked in surprise, and she tugged her hand away from Lana's, shaking her head. "No, you can go first. I'll clean up this mess and get started on dinner." The wrapping paper and empty boxes littered the living room floor where they had discarded them in favor of the gifts within. "What do you want? We could have some spaghetti." She staggered to her feet, a little dizzied by her own mind, and offered Lana a hand to help her to her feet. Part of her, a tiny part, ached with rejection that Lana wouldn't accept her ring—the only thing she had to offer even close to parallel with the charm Lana had given her. But I understand. Her wedding band symbolized her commitment to God. If Lana had given her a ring which symbolized her dedication to Wendy, she wouldn't have wanted to accept it. She didn't want to act as a replacement for Wendy; she knew she could never measure up. I don't want Lana to replace God at all. I love her in a different way.

Lana tangled their fingers together as she struggled to her feet, knees cracking. "No, I meant—I meant if you wanted to shower together. With me."

Her jaw dropped open. What? "We—We can do that?" Tongue flapping loosely about, Mary Eunice fought for a shred of coherence as Lana nodded, her eyebrows quirking together in mingled concern and confusion. "I—I didn't realize that was an option."

Chuckling, Lana smirked back at her. Her red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face robbed her of no beauty, leaving her the same Lana who Mary Eunice cherished. "We can do whatever we want. Everything is an option." Everything? What is everything? Mary Eunice had no point of reference to imagine the possibilities stretched out before them, and somehow that made everything more tantalizing, the unknown luring her with its temptation. Temptation. She had learned the word to mean evil, but Lana had never looked so pure to her. "We don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought I would—"

"I want to!" Mary Eunice clapped a hand over her mouth to silence the cry, but it ripped from her throat, betraying her excitement. Lana's grin widened. "I—I mean, yes, I would like that, I didn't mean to shout…" Mary Eunice cleared her throat, forming a sheepish smile.

Lana caught her by both hands. "I didn't think you'd be so excited about it." Tugging on her, they headed down the hall to the bedroom, with the bed messy and unmade just as they had left it before Christmas when they had thrown their things together and fled the winter weather. The furnace kicked off, having reached its target temperature, and a chill permeated the room in its silence.

Her face flushed. I didn't mean that, I didn't mean to shout, I just love you, and you're so pretty, and— "Will we be… naked?" she asked, whole face aflame. Maybe I shouldn't. This is embarrassing. I don't know anything. I'll say the wrong thing. I'm stupid. Am I allowed to look at her? At the mere mention of nudity, she pinched her eyes closed, afraid of seeing something Lana didn't want her to see.

To her surprise, Lana stopped, slowing to a halt before her feet hit the tile floor. "Do you usually shower with clothes on?" she asked, a light teasing tone to her voice. Mary Eunice's belly pooled with shame. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to." A soft hand touched her cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered, but she kept them pinched shut. "Hey. I'm still fully dressed. Look at me." Releasing a pent-up breath of air, she allowed them to fall open, locking gazes with Lana. "I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with. If you're not ready for this, I don't expect you to do it. I'm not going to be upset if you don't want to."

Licking her lips, Mary Eunice said, "I—I want to." Lana stroked the back of her hand, fingers trembling. "I'm afraid, I am, but I don't want to be afraid. I want to do this with you. Anything that scares me—it doesn't matter, as long as I'm with you. I trust you more than I fear anything." She glanced down to where Lana stroked her hand, and then she lifted her head to look Lana in the eyes. "I want to do it with you. Just don't let me do anything silly, please."

"You won't." Lana lifted her hand to her lips and kissed it. "I promise." She tugged her into the bathroom and closed the door all the way so Gus wouldn't barge in on them. "Do you want me to undress you?" she asked.

Oh, I don't know. Mary Eunice sucked on her lower lip. Lana had seen her naked body before, more than once, but in the sheer, unforgiving white light of the bathroom, she feared everything would become more apparent, all of her flaws drawn to the surface. But did she prefer for Lana to undress her, or would she instead turn her back and return to Lana nude like some kind of circus animal? Face flushing hotter than she imagined possible, she nodded in agreement. "Please."

Lips pressed flush against hers, and Lana's cool hands slipped underneath her shirt and lifted it above her head. Mary Eunice lifted her arms and broke the kiss for Lana to tear the shirt away. Those gentle hands traveled across her torso, squishing the pudge of her belly (she giggled when Lana grazed her fingertips across her belly, and goosebumps appeared all over her arms, nipples hardening in her bra), heading up her ribs, stroking back down her back. Lana took one of Mary Eunice's hands and planted it at the hem of her own sweater. I can take it off. She needed no more prompting to place both of her hands on Lana's waist. First, she mapped Lana's body through her clothing, and then she looked up to her girlfriend. "Can I…?"

Her awe-struck eyes marveled at the brown of Lana's irises, sweeter than any chocolate she had ever tasted. "Please do."

Hooking her fingers under the hem of the sweater, she lifted it up and helped Lana tug her arms through the sleeves. The light illuminated all of the scars they shared, the burn scar below Mary Eunice's navel, the surgical mark below Lana's, the stretch marks where they both had grown. Mary Eunice traced each dark purple stripe on Lana's sides with her fingers, worshipping the body in front of her. Lana's armpits had dark, wiry hair protruding from them, not completely grown in but nearing it. She trailed her fingers up from Lana's belly button to the base of her breast bone, where her breasts lay hidden in white cups. She is so beautiful. For a second time, she looked to Lana for confirmation. "Go ahead."

Smooth as a hummingbird's wings, she unclasped the bra from the back, but the years of indoctrination poisoned her thoughts, and as the garment whistled to the floor, she pinched her eyes closed, sucking in a tight breath. God, forgive me for my lust. Lana stepped nearer to her, her breath fanning across her face. Her lips fixed to the junction between Mary Eunice's neck and shoulder, hands starting at the small of her back and sliding up to her bra. "May I take this off?"

May I, a request, probing like a cat using its whiskers to navigate a dark room. Mary Eunice nodded, breath tight in her chest, humming a thin affirmation. The cold air crossed her breasts. A shiver passed through her, and she knew Lana could see her in the full light. "You're so beautiful," Lana whispered. "Open your eyes," she murmured. "Look at me."

She did, eyelashes fluttering. First, she gazed into Lana's warm eyes. I'm afraid. She had learned this was a sin, and she struggled to purge the fire from her veins, the urge to flee the sight of a naked woman and drop to her knees in a prayer for forgiveness. Her gaze wandered down the expanse of Lana's neck and her collarbones. Her chest swelled. Then, her large, round areolas circled her protruding nipples. The brown hue of the areolas caught her off-guard. "I thought they were pink."

The words slipped from her lips. She clenched her jaw tight together too light to suck the words back inside of herself. Lana quirked her brows. "What?"

Oh, goodness. Mary Eunice's furious blush returned tenfold. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that." She cleared her throat, but Lana's raised eyebrow refused to let the matter lie, so with an awkward cough, she mumbled, "I thought your nipples were pink."

Teeth peeking out from her lips in a grin, Lana laughed at her, but the sound was strained. Did I hit a nerve? I shouldn't have said anything. Why did I blurt that out? That was so stupid. "Why would you think that?" Lana asked. She extended a hand, pressing it to the globe of Mary Eunice's right breast, framing the tiny, rosebud nipple between her thumb and forefinger. "Did you assume everyone had nipples like you?"

"No, I—" Shut up! Mary Eunice bit the tip of her tongue. She gulped; she had already begun to speak, and Lana was expectant, and she had never learned how to lie. "Please don't be mad," she squeaked.

Lana's lips formed an O of surprise. "Mad? I'm not mad—why would I be mad?"

Biting her lip, Mary Eunice winced. "I read Wendy's journal." Lana's jaw closed with a click. Oh, no… Her heart sank, and she scrambled to defend herself. "I didn't mean to—I was cleaning out the closet, and I found it, and I thought it was just an old notebook, since you had a lot of college notes and stuff that I was throwing away, so I opened it to see what it was, and—it was just on that page, where she talked about—about when you made love for the first time." She swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. "I didn't know how to tell you, so I just left it alone. But Wendy said your nipples were pink. I don't know why I remembered that. I didn't mean to say that, I just thought it… out loud." Shut up. You're so stupid. You haven't even taken your skirt off yet, and you're already saying and doing stupid things. You just promised to try not to do anything silly, and here you are.

The tightness in Lana's jaw disappeared, flexing loose again, but her grin didn't return, replaced by a halfhearted grimace. "They were, then. They were pink, before I got pregnant." Oh. Mary Eunice's face fell. I did touch a nerve. Her jaw hung loose, so Lana planted a tender kiss on her lips. Her hand remained on the fatty part of Mary Eunice's breast, the other one planting itself on her shoulder, tugging her closer. She buried her mouth into the kiss. Their bare fronts brushed, breasts teasing one another.

Their tangled lips separated. I can still taste her. "You're beautiful, Lana." Through sheer willpower, she forced herself to study the bare top half of Lana's body where every instinct told her to look away and keep her perverse eyes to herself. Part of her wanted to fondle Lana's breasts. Don't. She might not like it. She slid Lana's hand up her breast, cupping it, nipple hardening into her palm. "It's cold." Goosebumps flecked all over her exposed arms and chest.

Lana laughed, a breathless thing, at the compliment. "Thank you." She removed her hand from Mary Eunice's breast and planted them on her hips. "Let's get rid of these clothes and get in the shower to warm up. Hm?" Yes, let's do that. Mary Eunice nodded. Lana hooked her fingers into the hem of her skirt and unbuckled it, letting it slide down and pool around her feet. Around the hem of her panties, clumps of dark reddish-cream pubic hair stuck out, too wild to be tamed into her underwear. Mary Eunice reached to unbuckle Lana's skirt in turn, letting it fall, and she studied her mound, blush bleeding into her arms as she studied the cotton barrier between her and Lana's most intimate parts. Lana trailed a finger up the inside of Mary Eunice's thigh, over the yellowing bruises the minister had left behind. At the sensation, ice cubes rolling down her back, Mary Eunice shuddered, and Lana grinned up at her, a devilish thing. She waited for a nod of encouragement before she worked the panties down to Mary Eunice's ankles. She kicked them away and discarded them.

The curls between her legs sprang upward, sunflowers lifting their heads toward the sky. Lana extended a hand toward her, as if to brush her fingers through the wiry garden of hair, but she reconsidered and drew back, instead shifting her pelvis forward. Mary Eunice cupped a hip bone in either hand. She swallowed hard, mouth dry as the desert, as her fingers traced the top hem of Lana's panties. Just take them down. It isn't that hard. Lana wouldn't let you if she didn't want you to do it. Like hearing her thoughts, Lana placed her hands over Mary Eunice's, folding her fingers down into her underwear. The mocking voices inside of her, the parts naming her a pervert, an abomination, droned louder and louder, alongside the sound of her own blood rushing through her ears. Her eyes pinched closed again. "Lana, I…" I don't think I can do this.

But Lana worked her hands down, helping her slide the underwear down. Mary Eunice's breath hitched. Her knuckles, fingers wrapped around the top of Lana's panties, scraped down the swells of Lana's fuzzy thighs, down to her knees, which bore a stubble of shaven hair left untouched for sometime, before she released the cotton fabric and let it fall to the floor. Lana cradled her face in her hands. "You can open your eyes."

Biting her lower lip, she shook her head. "I don't think I can." Her voice emerged in a thin whisper. "I—I'm afraid."

"What makes you afraid?"

Sucking on her top teeth, Mary Eunice considered. The burbling terror in the pit of her stomach had no apparent source: the voices of a thousand priests condemning the lustful gaze and the woman of temptation who would lead them astray, the crack of Sister Jude's cane across her rear end if Spivy masturbated at the sight of her, the whispered words behind closed doors about every homosexual Briarcliff had ever housed. "Lust is a sin. I feel lust for you." A fire ignited in the pit of her belly, trickling down lower, into the places no one had ever touched. "I don't want to look at you like a pervert. I don't want to look at you like a man."

Thumbs stroked her cheekbones and tugged her face. Mary Eunice puckered her lips on reflex, expecting to encounter Lana's mouth, but instead, Lana placed her mouth on her neck; her pulse throbbed right at the tip of her nose. "Nothing about you is like a man." Her vocal cords rumbled against Mary Eunice's lips. She peppered a thin string of kisses down her voice box, where each syllable and sound rose up with a smooth vibration. "I would never let a man be with me like you can be with me." Lana's loose hair tickled her face. "You told me love between a man and a woman is holy. You must believe our love is, as well." Mary Eunice hummed an approving note. She folded at the waist to reach more of Lana's neck, stopping at the hollow of her throat between her collarbones and her breastbone. "You are not perverted for having desires. I can assure you of that." A thumb hooked underneath Mary Eunice's chin and tilted her head up. She straightened her shoulders and stood up straight. "Do you believe me?"

"Yes."

"Look me in the eyes." Eyelashes fluttering, she fought every instinct and misgiving to look into Lana's soft eyes. A tender smile appeared on her lips. Her hand left Mary Eunice's chin to take her by the hand. "I'm freezing my ass off." The blunt sentence made Mary Eunice's chest tremble with laughter. "Let's get in the damn shower."

As the distance between them grew, Mary Eunice scanned Lana's naked body, analyzing it for the first time in full detail under the bright light of the bathroom. The stretchmarks on her sides, purple in some places and white in others, marked her abdomen and hips and thighs. Her dark brown hair, almost black, grew in a coarse garden of wires, some of the hairs beginning to tint silver but not quite gray enough to be noticeable. Fine dark hair laced over her thighs, but she shaved below the knee, her stubble just visible. She's beautiful. Mary Eunice was afraid to say the words aloud, afraid to tell Lana she had looked, though Lana could see her wandering eyes. Instead, she said, "I'm excited."

Lana turned on the faucet. "It's not as much fun as you think it is," she said, but her smirk didn't ebb. "It usually means one person gets to enjoy the hot water while the other stands back, wet and cold, and then we switch halfway through." Mary Eunice laughed. Lana jerked the knob for the shower head to come on, and then she pulled the shower curtain back, stepping into the shower as the steam clouded the room. Mary Eunice lingered outside until she thrust her arm back out of the shower. "Are you coming in here, or are you going to stand there and shiver?"

Eyes widening, Mary Eunice skipped into the shower to join her. "I'm coming with you." She grinned at the sight of Lana, the steam gray between them. "It's—It's warm in here." The water jetted into her hair, matting it into drenched strings. "Now—Now what?"

Squirting shampoo out into her hand, Lana grinned. "Now what? What do you usually do in the shower? Turn around. I'll wash your hair." But I want to look at you! Mary Eunice didn't hesitate to follow Lana's command, nonetheless, whirling on the tips of her toes. "You're shaking."

The gentle fingertips combed over her scalp. "I'm nervous," Mary Eunice admitted. "But I like this. Being with you like this." Lana kissed her shoulder. "I love being close to you. And, um… Being—Being naked." Lana bit her shoulder, a tender nip, like a puppy gauging how hard it could chew on its mother's tail. "Ooh!" Mary Eunice cooed the noise in a reflex, her shoulders tensing. All of her nerves lit up with sensation, mapping a path down between her legs. She pinched her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building up there. "Oh, goodness." Not this again. The funny feeling, the arousal, stirred at the least opportune times, and she could do nothing to prevent it nor to relieve it.

A hand scooped up over her forehead, trying to keep the suds from streaming into her eyes. "Close your eyes. I don't want to burn them." Mary Eunice obeyed. "I like this, too," Lana said, a soft afterthought. "Don't be nervous. You're beautiful." She squished all of the shampoo into her hair and wrung it out like a sponge, all of the suds flowing between their feet onto the tile floor of the shower and the rubber mat. "Is that what scares you?"

"No, not really." Mary Eunice leaned her head back into the stream of water to wash the shampoo from her hair, a reflexive hand going to see if any of the soap remained behind. "It's new. I've never even dreamed about this, about you, and I don't want to mess it up." She shook the loose droplets from her face and blinked to look up at Lana. "I know you will say I won't, but it's still…" Lana nodded in agreement. She dipped Mary Eunice down for a kiss. The hot flesh of her tongue pushed out between her lips, slipping into Mary Eunice's own mouth. "Mm!" The expected chaste, brief kiss evolved into a game.

Oh, yes! Her nipples pebbled at the stimulation, Lana's tongue exploring her mouth. She wrapped her mouth around Lana's tongue and sucked on it. "Hm," Lana hummed, the corners of her lips opening for her to slurp in a deep breath in the steamy shower. She didn't draw back, but instead, she wrapped her arms around Mary Eunice's neck and hooked them there. Is it too much? Her tongue fit so nice in the roof of Mary Eunice's mouth, like it belonged there, tracing the top spine of her jaw and the scaly texture forming behind her teeth. Mary Eunice nursed upon it until Lana retracted it, Mary Eunice leaning forward to try to chase it. "You won't mess this up," Lana murmured to her. The warm water flushed both of their skins a pink shade, disguising the blush rushing to Mary Eunice's cheeks, but at the sheepish creases forming at the corners of her eyes and lips, Lana asked, "Did you like that?"

Mary Eunice giggled, a tender thing. "Yes." She reached for the shampoo. Lana's arms slid from around her neck and planted on her hips instead, sliding up her waist. The tickling sensation made her shudder. Her nipples stood up in spite of the hot temperatures. The roaming hands slid under each breast, tracing the crease where they hung over her chest, circling them in the passage between her breasts. Heat built in the base of her throat, some expression of pleasure she didn't know how to put to words. "I like it when you touch me." Her voice had a shaky note to it as Lana circled her areola, no larger than a quarter, with her thumb, making tiny bumps appear on it it. With the shampoo in her palms, she smoothed it over the top of Lana's head, gazing at her brown locks, stained black by the water pouring from the shower faucet, while Lana bent lower to press her lips to the top of each breast. Lana's hands slipped from her hips and grabbed her ass, a cheek in either hand, and squeezed. Mary Eunice squeaked in surprise. She tangled her fingers in her hair and scraped over her scalp. She scrubbed the shampoo into her locks until it built up into thick, white fluff. The stream of water swept the suds, heavy as cumulus clouds, down toward Lana's face, and Mary Eunice scrambled to catch them and push them back before the soap could run into her eyes.

Flinging her hair back, Lana lifted her head just long enough for the water to rinse the suds from her hair, but she hadn't left her mission; free from the flavor of the shampoo poisoning her tongue, she dove onto Mary Eunice's breasts again. Oh, my word. Mary Eunice bit the tip of her tongue to keep from crying out as Lana's tongue writhed around one of her nipples, the other teased by her hand, the thumb flicking back and forth right over the delicate bud. She gasped for breath, lungs tight, and slurped in a deep breath of water. Chest quivering, harsh coughs ripped from her. The water burned in the bottom of her throat. The first cough stopped Lana, the second making her glance up at Mary Eunice. At the third, she straightened, placing her palms flat against the other's chest. "Hey, breathe. Breathe. Don't inhale the water."

I'm trying! Mary Eunice hacked some more, until the burning in her chest had become a dry tingle. "I got choked." Her voice emerged in a thin croak. "You distracted me. I forgot to breathe."

Tossing her head back, Lana laughed, her teeth shining in the light filtering through the steam. "My mistake." Her hands slid down from Mary Eunice's heaving chest to cup a breast in each hand. Her nipples stood up, erect against the stimulus. "I wouldn't dream of doing a thing like that." She flicked her thumb over Mary Eunice's tiny nipple. A squeak emerged from her throat. The smirk vanished from Lana's face, replaced by a serious, tender look. The flirtatiousness was a facade for the pure love borne in her brown eyes. Mary Eunice grinned at her in return, a desperate thing; the heat between her legs ached, pleading for something to take the pressure away, and each time Lana touched her, it grew. Lana's lips connected to her collarbones again, and this time, she didn't come back up. Mary Eunice bent forward, keeping her face out of the stream of water. She braced one hand on Lana's shoulder, the other flat against the wall of the shower.

The sucking and nipping at her breasts continued, Lana humming with satisfaction whenever Mary Eunice made a noise in response to her ministrations, soft grunts and half-moans and croaks of approval and the occasional quiet, "Lana, please." Lana left her chest, arms hooking around Mary Eunice's body as she dropped to her knees, smattering the ticklish expanse of her lover's belly with kisses and nibbles and hard sucks. A giggle emerged with each scrape of Lana's teeth against her squishy abdomen. Her sides quivered with the restrained laughter. Lana reached her navel and kissed it, dipping her tongue inside. "Ooh!" Mary Eunice yelped in surprise. Her groin pulsed with need, breasts refusing to settle. Her nipples stared up at the ceiling, erect and seeking stimulus.

Lana's arms slid down, tightening behind her knees to support her. She kissed and sucked on the tender, ticklish flesh beneath her navel. Following the trail of her hair from her belly button down to her pubic mound, Lana kissed the top of her mound, easing her face into Mary Eunice's garden. Mary Eunice leaned her head back. Oh my, it burns. The need weakened her knees. Oh, I can't! Frustration bubbled, hot as a pot of boiling water, in the pit of her stomach. Lana's nose halted just where her labia parted, pressed there and inhaling the heady aroma of her arousal. Her legs had separated at some point, making enough room for Lana to squeeze them. But Lana didn't press her. She nuzzled her way back up Mary Eunice's lower body, sliding over to her bruised inner thighs. "You smell so good." Her hands roamed up and down Mary Eunice's legs, rubbing the hair up one way and down the other. "I want to taste you."

Taste me. Mary Eunice gulped. She had never felt so hot before, hot between the legs, her most intimate parts swollen and sensitive. "Lana…" She wriggled, trying to close her legs. Lana released her without a struggle. "I can't." Her heart smoldered. I could. I could do it right now. I wish I were so daring. God, forgive me. She had promised her chastity to the Lord, and she could not go back on it now. The Monsignor had taken her virginity from her—or she had taken it from herself, in some twisted sense—but she had confessed to that sin, and she would not replicate it. I'm afraid. How did sex feel? She shivered at the thought. Wendy's journal had described it as an act so immensely pleasurable, she couldn't help but cry out, as if in pain. Rachel had touched her when she didn't want the touch and stimulated the place inside her vulva which now threatened to explode if she didn't find a way to relieve the pressure there.

Pulling herself up on Mary Eunice's hips, Lana straightened, her knees popping from having rested on them on the unforgiving floor. "I know, I know." Mary Eunice wriggled, a whine building in her throat. "I feel it, too."

Her toes curled. "I don't like it." She screwed up her face to try to ignore the pulse between her legs. "How do I make it go away?"

"It will fade. Just ignore it." Lana pecked a kiss onto her lips and rubbed soap into a washcloth. She placed it on Mary Eunice's shoulders and rubbed. "Think of something uncomfortable."

"Like what?"

Lana shrugged. "Most people use a family member. A grandmother. Try Father Joseph." Mary Eunice cringed. Lana laughed. "There, that's the face I was looking for!" She rubbed down Mary Eunice's arms and lifted each one to scrub beneath them. "I'm sorry. I got carried away."

"It felt good. Until it stopped."

"I know. I shouldn't have done it." The washcloth traveled over her breasts, between them, and slipped over the smooth planes of her back; Mary Eunice turned around at Lana's prompting. "You've got a mole back here." Lana flicked her thumb over the protruding bit of dark skin. "Have you always had it?"

Mary Eunice nodded. "Since I was a baby. It used to get sore, but it hasn't in years." Lana pinched it. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Sorry, sorry." Lana rubbed the pad of her finger over the mole again. "Sometimes they can become cancerous. Melanoma. My grandmother had it."

"It's just a birthmark."

"Will you tell me if it starts hurting again?"

"It's hurting right now. You just pinched it." Lana swatted her on the bum with a gentle hand, mashing the squishy lump of one cheek in her palm. Oh, God help me. All of the heat rushed back to Mary Eunice's face where she had just managed to banish it, taking her mind off of the horrible snake of arousal slithering from the pit of her stomach all the way down into her vulva, more wet from her own sticky fluids than the hot water showering down on them. "Lana."

She relinquished the buttcheek and slid the washcloth down to her ass and massaged it in an apology. "Sorry. It's just so… pretty." Do you think so? Mary Eunice knew she had scars on her rear from the lashings she'd received from Sister Jude's cane. Lana traced the heavy white ripples with her fingertips. "Does this bother you?"

Mary Eunice shook her head. "I like it." At her answer, Lana squeezed one buttcheek again. "I—I really like it." Her hips bent backward on reflex into Lana's touch. "I like the way you touch me."

Lana rubbed the soapy washcloth in the crack of her ass. She bent over to wring out the cloth over her legs and feet, scrubbing them. "I like touching you." She scraped her teeth in a light graze over Mary Eunice's thigh. Each touch made electricity crackle through her veins, hot and bright, illuminated and lustful by her lover's attention to her body. "Turn around." Gladly. Mary Eunice obeyed, and Lana followed with the washcloth back up her front. "So you want spaghetti for dinner?"

"If that's what you want."

"That's what you said earlier."

"I can make anything."

"Spaghetti is fast. I want to eat and have some time to watch Bonanza."

Mary Eunice grinned. "Alright. Spaghetti it is." Her hands, hanging limp and useless at her sides, reached and caught Lana by the curve of her hip bones, thumbs trailing the purple stretch marks there. Her eyes drank in the sight of Lana again, this time clouded by the steam in the air, the water gradually losing its heat from the amount of time they'd spent beneath the faucet. Hand sliding up Lana's torso, the muscles and flesh twitching in response, she cupped the underside of one of Lana's brown-stained breasts. Her chest hitched with a sudden breath. "Is this okay?"

Lana nodded, but the lines around her eyes deepened, and she didn't make eye contact, gaze slanted down to the floor of the shower. Everything we've done has been her touching me. Mary Eunice leaned forward to peck a kiss onto her lips, hand falling away from her chest. She can touch me all she likes. I won't hurt her. "I want to wash you now." She slid the washcloth from Lana's hand and filled it with soap again, scrubbing it into a white fluff and distributing it over her neck and shoulders. "You're so beautiful." Smoothing the soap over her arms, Mary Eunice connected the dots with her eyes, finding shapes hidden in Lana's tiny freckles, constellations in her stars. "I love you."

Big brown eyes lifted from the ground and found hers again, swimming with tears but not weeping. "Thank you." For what? For not scaring you? For not hurting you? Mary Eunice blinked, taken aback. Had Lana expected anything less from her? She pressed closer in the intimate space of the shower, close enough for Mary Eunice to wash her back, exploring her body without much consideration to her movements; Lana's proximity took all of her focus.

Hesitant arms folded around the back of her neck and caught there in a quiet embrace, their bare fronts squishing together in the cooling water raining down on them. Lana rested her chin on her shoulder, and Mary Eunice reciprocated, nose pressing into her girlfriend's brunette hair. "I could never hurt you," she whispered. "I only want to take what you can give me—no more, nothing else." They rocked back and forth, swaying as if to the beat of a song. When Mary Eunice closed her eyes, she imagined they rested below a waterfall in a spring oasis, surrounded by bright green flora and animals darting about around them. In Eden. Just like I dreamed. She never could have fathomed her dream would become reality, arms around Lana's nude body, grazing her short fingernails over her back to comfort her. Molly used to love to have her back scratched.

Just as she thought it, Lana keened a satisfied whine at her ministrations. "I love you, too, Mary Eunice." I never thought she would call me that. Lana kissed the pulse point on her neck. "Forever." She fumbled with the ring on the necklace around Mary Eunice's neck.

Forever sounds good to me. Mary Eunice smiled, holding her all the tighter beneath the cold shower. Gooseflesh emerged all over her body, and she kept her back to the stream, protecting Lana from the chill just as she had in the bottom of the creek. Here, she had no fear of the cold hurting her, but she wanted to share as much of her own warmth as she could with Lana so they could linger just a little longer in their loving embrace.