Once the storm subsides, Brittany manages to get Dr. Chang on the phone and he braves the snowdrifts to come care for Ana. You had been right about it being influenza and he gives Mercy medication and instructions to keep her comfortable. They stay another night and then they take her home, promising you that they have enough candles to keep the house lit until you have power again. It takes six days before you do and though you're missing it, Brittany insists that you go to get a Christmas tree. She strings the lights, though they can't be lit, and you decorate it together in front of the warm fire.

Together, you bake cookies and her arm gets better each day. You see her get antsy to do the things she shouldn't and you don't chastise her when she does. You know that she's grown and can make her own choices but still, you worry each and every minute. Christmas is coming though and the two of you get wrapped up in the excitement. Though you won't be going back to the city, you wrap gifts for your mother and father and the little girls and get them in the mail so they'll have them in time. You shop for gifts for the Karofskys who will have you over for dinner, you find a few small things for little Ana and you kiss Brittany beneath the mistletoe that she hung in the sitting room.

"Ya sure do look pretty." Brittany comes up into the bedroom on Christmas Eve to find you dressed for your evening alone together. "If I'd've known ya were gonna dress up, I'd've ironed somethin' else real nice for tonight."

"I love you just the way you are." You smile at her in her work trousers and suspenders. "I have to call home before my family goes to Christmas Eve mass, but after that, it'll just be us until dinner tomorrow."

"Sure sounds like the most special kind of night to me." She grins. "Mind if I talk to the little gals?"

"I don't think they'll let me off the phone without it."

You kiss Brittany's lips, that tender kind of kiss that strives to show her just how much she means to you and you feel her smile into it. Lord Tubbington mewls at your feet and you feel this deep sense of contentment within you. You thought that you might feel a sense of deep sadness at being apart from your family again for Christmas, but it seems to have lessened this year. You've settled so very securely into your life with Brittany, you look forward to the holidays with her and though you miss your family terribly, it's easier to not feel the pain of the distance when you're in Brittany's arms.

Together, you go downstairs to the telephone and Brittany sits beside you on the sofa. You hope that someone in the hallway will hear the phone ring, you hope that your family hasn't left early for mass and you squeeze Brittany's hand, anxiously awaiting an answer. It's Robbie Gutierrez, the man about your age who lives on the second floor who answers and you wish him a merry Christmas before you ask him to get your family from their apartment. You hold for several minutes and then you hear the small voices of your sisters clambering to speak with you.

Your mother takes the phone first, and you give her another apology that you didn't make it home for Christmas. She hushes you and thanks you for the gifts you sent, telling you that she loves you before she passes the phone to your father. When you speak to him, you can hear, even over the phone, how much he's aged since the war and it saddens you deeply. You wish that he'd been able to stay home, that he hadn't been injured, that he didn't have to work with his bad leg. You long to tell him that you helped support the family while he was away and that you could send more money than you do so he could stay home, but you know he'd never allow it. You're certain that your mother uses what you do send for things for the girls, that he wishes to have nothing to do with it, and so you never mention that you'd use every penny of extra money that you have to help them.

When Mariana takes the phone, you feel your dampened spirits brighten. She speaks of Santa Claus, of the tres leches cake she had after dinner, of the new dress she's wearing for church and you smile. Brittany leans in against the receiver and she speaks with Mariana and then Carlotta and Concetta just as you do. There's another pang of missing them, but your mother had promised that she'd call after breakfast in the morning, so you know you'll get to hear about all of their treasures after Santa Claus comes. Concetta hangs up the phone and you lean a bit into Brittany, smiling into her shoulder, and she kisses the crown of your head.

"Those little girls sure do love ya."

"I love then too, so much. I want them to have the most magical Christmas."

"With the gifts ya sent them from Santa, they're sure to have an even better one than your parents could give them."

"I worry about my parents quite a bit. My father doesn't sound well…"

"Do ya need to go spend some time there?"

"I don't know, I may. He's such a stubborn man, he refuses the help of anyone who tries to give it to him."

"I know something about that…" Brittany looks off into the distance and you immediately feel bad.

"Brittany."

"'S alright. I'm just missing my Pop a bit more since it's Christmas."

"If you'd like, we can go to his grave in the morning, perhaps bring pine branches to commemorate the holiday."

"I don't want to depress ya on Christmas."

"You're not." You promise, kissing the back of her hand. "I know that it's your first Christmas without him and that's sure to be difficult."

"I just think of him sittin' at the Karofskys' table. It'll feel awful empty without that. But I'm alright. I don't mean to feel sad."

"It's alright to feel that way, love. You had a big loss this year."

"Still doesn't feel quite real." She shrugs. "But it is."

"We'll plan to get up early and care for his grave. When we're there, I'll give you a bit of time alone with him."

"I think I like it better when I have ya by my side. Sure did help when we went down to see Willie."

"Whatever makes it easier for you, I'll do."

"Ya sure are swell."

"I just love you quite a bit."

For a long while, you sit quietly until you know that the roast is done and you have potatoes to mash. Brittany follows you into the kitchen and she watches as you make gravy. A Christmas roast was a tradition your mother picked up when she came to America and you've carried it on in your own home. Like your sisters had, there will be tres leches cake after your meal and you think that every bit of the work you've done throughout the day will be worth it when you get to watch Brittany enjoy Christmas Eve dinner. She's told you that she never did much for the day, since her father worked and it was difficult for him to put together a meal like this when he came home to two children, so now that you have her, you try to make it special.

She cuts into the roast while you bring potatoes and yeast rolls and vegetables to the table and you smile at how much food there is, even just for the two of you. As little money as your parents had when you were growing up, the Christmas Eve dinner before mass was always an affair and now that you have quite a bit more, you don't have to worry about where that money will come from. Once you're both seated, you bow your head to say grace and you ask God silently to pay special attention to Brittany as she suffers through her grief over the next few days.

"This sure is some meal, Santana. I can't believe ya spent all day in the kitchen."

"You were quite a bit of help yourself. I appreciated having the company."

"Wasn't anythin' much. Ya did most of the hard stuff. Plus ya made things to bring over to Davey's tomorrow."

"I know that Mrs. Karofsky works so hard to put Christmas together, I was just glad that she let me bring something this year."

"I'm sure Davey's been tellin' her all about your cookin'." Brittany grins.

"No one likes it quite as much as you do, sweetheart."

"That's because I get to kiss the cook."

Dinner is much more joyous than your conversation before it and you linger long after with the champagne you'd bought for the occasion. When your head is a little light from the alcohol and the bubbles, you get to your feet, figuring you ought to start cleaning up before you're too drunk to do it. Together, you clear the table and though Brittany normally washes the dishes while you dry, her arm makes either impossible so she stands at the sink to keep you company.

When you're through, you go into the sitting room with refilled glasses of champagne and you curl your legs beneath you on the sofa, even in your dress and stockings and you rest your head on Brittany's shoulder. She feels so soft and warm beside you with nothing but the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree and you feel such a swell of happiness that it's hard to contain. Gone are the fears about your father, the worries you and Brittany have had about finances, the whole outside world. It's just you and Brittany, wrapped up in each other as you sit beside your tree.

When you fall asleep against her shoulder, she gently wakes you and helps you upstairs. You're so tired that it's hard to wash up and get into your nightgown, but she helps you as best as she can with one hand and you lean over to kiss her lips. Your bedroom is always cold and you quickly get beneath the quilt, wrapping your legs with Brittany's and leaning your head back on her shoulder. In the morning, you'll go to see her father, but just for the evening, the last thing you see before you fall asleep is a soft, contented smile on Brittany's face.

Brittany isn't in bed when you wake up on Christmas morning. The bedroom is cold and you feel an emptiness at her absence. You don't really want to get out of bed and brave the iciness, but you do, sliding into your slippers and robe before you pad downstairs. The kitchen smells like coffee and bacon and when you see Brittany standing at the stove, you come up behind her and stand on your tiptoes to rest your chin on her shoulder. Your arms find a place around her waist and you feel her smile, though you can't see her face. She's flipping pancakes in the pan and you smile to yourself at the fact that she woke up to make you breakfast.

"I was supposed to bring ya breakfast in bed." She laughs.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I know, but I wanted to. Ya cook me breakfast all the time, I thought I'd do somethin' nice for ya on Christmas."

"It's still such a nice thing, even if it's not in bed."

"I think ya should go back to bed. Stay warm under the blankets while the house warms up."

"It is awfully cold this morning."

"Go. I'll see ya up there in a few minutes."

Listening to Brittany's orders, you go back upstairs and slide your slippers off before crawling under the covers. The bed is still warm from your body and it helps take the chill out from when you went downstairs. You take your book from the nightstand, turning the pages of The House of the Seven Gables while you wait for her to come and soon enough, she's standing in the doorway holding a tray of food and coffee in one hand. She sits down on her side of the bed and you smile, glad that she brought two plates, glad that she'll be having breakfast with you in the warmth of your bed.

"My pancakes sure ain't as good as yours, but I tried real hard."

"They're perfect, Brittany. Thank you for this, you always make me feel so cherished."

"Well I cherish ya. Ya always do so much for me and I wanted to do this for ya in return."

"It wasn't too much, with your arm?"

"My arm is gettin' a whole lot better. I'll be goin' back to work just after the new year."

"Can you promise me that you won't do something that will get you hurt again?"

"I…Santana, it's real hard for me to promise that."

"You're just as good as those boys, better. You don't have to prove yourself."

"I don't feel like it a lot. I'm not a normal woman and I'm not a man, I'm caught somewhere in between and I've just gotta make everyone see that I can do anything they would do."

"No one should be doing things that would make them get hurt. You told me that Mr. Brewster said as much."

"I know." She looks into her lap. "I can promise ya that I'll try."

"That's better than you not promising at all. It terrifies me when you're sick or hurt, I can only do so much to care for you."

"Ya sure are good at tendin' to it though. Ya always know the right thing to do."

"I don't want you to get hurt so badly that I won't. A lot of the boys in my neighborhood worked in construction when I was living back at home and my father saw to some of them with devastating injuries. I couldn't manage if that was you."

"I'll try real hard not to get hurt, but ya know when I go back out on the Alcott…"

"I know." You suck in a breath, looking her in the eyes. "I know it's a dangerous job."

"Just so ya know, I really want to come home to ya every night."

"I know."

Together, you finish your breakfast and you go downstairs in your robe to help clean up the kitchen. When the cleanup is through, you go to bathe and you get ready to go with Brittany to her father's grave. You pull in your dress and warm woolen stockings and she puts a sweater over her trousers to keep warm in the bitter December weather. Because supper is early at the Karofskys', you pack the things you're bringing in a basket and you walk down the beach together, holding hands until you can't anymore.

The cemetery is empty when you get there and Brittany meanders through the graves until she finds the place where her parents are laid to rest. She carefully traces her fingers over the name of the mother she never knew and then she turns up her father's name, taking a deep, shuddering breath. It's the first time she's seen his name inscribed there and you can see the pain of realization on her face. She lays the Christmas wreath that she brought from the house and she kneels down in the snow in front of the stone.

"Pop, it's me, Brittany. I'm sorry I haven't been to visit ya, it's just been real hard without ya. But Santana is takin' good care of me. Ya know, I love her more than I've ever loved anyone. She's here with me now because she wanted to make sure I was okay and because she really became fond of ya while she was takin' care of ya. It's the first Christmas that ya aren't here and I keep thinkin' about how empty it's gonna feel around the Karofskys table without ya. We've been goin' there since I was a little girl and it was always the one day ya didn't have to work. I just wish ya could be here somethin' fierce. I miss ya a lot Pop, and I'll try to come visit ya more."

Tears fill your eyes as you listen to Brittany speak and though she still kneels, you wish you could gather her up in your arms and take away her tears. You have your parents, you don't know how to feel the kind of grief that she feels and you hope that it's a long time before you do. But you can almost feel her pain as she kneels there in the icy snow, her heart belongs to you and when it aches, yours aches in return. She finally stands again and she turns to you. You open your arms and she falls into them, big, hiccuping sobs escaping her when she does. Alone in the cemetery, you rub her back, careful of her arm, you kiss the side of her face, you promise her that you're there, because that's all you can do.

For a little while longer, you linger in the cemetery. Then, she's ready to leave and she wipes her face on her coat sleeve before you begin the walk to David's. You know she doesn't want to sadden them on such a joyous day and you give her hand a little squeeze before you drop it and just walk side by side over the wooden pathway. On the grey day, Christmas lights illuminate the Karofsky house and Brittany forces a smile onto her face. The door opens and David stands there, a big grin on his face. He lets you in and immediately, you go to the kitchen to help his mother.

You appreciate that Mrs. Karofsky doesn't usher you out, but she lets you help, taking the dishes you brought while Brittany puts the gifts under the tree. With Mary Ellen, you set the table and then the two of you work side by side with her mother, making sure that everything is ready to go on the table quickly. Smelling like a cigar and a whiskey, Brittany takes her place beside you at the table and you bow your head before you eat, despite the fact that the Karofskys don't pray before meals.

It's a beautiful dinner, though you watch every time Brittany looks over to the place where her father sat last year and you long to hold her close to you, to let her know that you're with her as she mourns. When it comes time for you to go, it's dark and snowy and you step out into the cold air, looking forward to when you get a bit further down the beach and you can burrow into Brittany's side for warmth. As soon as she's able, Brittany opens her good arm to you and you tuck yourself into her side, always feeling so enamored with her when she makes sure you're warm enough. It seems that you're always a bit cold and she's always a bit warm, so she shares her body heat with you and you walk in silence until you arrive at the front of your house.

"Did ya miss out on goin' to church these last two days?" She asks you, same as she did last Christmas.

"It's alright, I know it's difficult for us to make it to the mainland when the ferries run so irregularly. I enjoyed Christmas with the Karofskys and with you." You smile as she opens the door and you step inside. "Now I'm looking forward to spending the evening curled up beside you."

"I was thinkin' I'd make some hot chocolate, if ya'd like that."

"That sounds nice."

Because you had agreed not to exchange Christmas gifts, since you know that Brittany is worried about her loss of income, the time you're to spend together means more than anything else. Uncharacteristic of you, while she makes the hot chocolate, you go upstairs and change into your nightgown and robe, borrowing a pair of her thickest socks to keep your feet warm and you return downstairs to light a fire in the fireplace. Just as you're settling in on the sofa, she comes back into the sitting room bearing two mugs of hot chocolate. She sets them down on the table and though you assure her that she could go upstairs to change if she'd like, she chooses to stay dressed and she gathers you up in her arms.

"I've been lookin' forward to this all day. I wouldn't've said no to Mrs. Karofsky, but mostly what I wanted this Christmas was just to be with ya."

"I know you've been sad all day today, I wish I knew how to take away your pain."

"I sure do to. But it's helpin', holdin' ya like this. Ya never change out of your clothes and come back downstairs. I like that ya look all cozy in your nightgown and my socks."

"I was feeling a bit restricted in my dress and I wanted to be able to be close to you without feeling like I was constricted." You tell her as Lord Tubbington jumps up on the sofa beside you.

"I wish I could love ya tonight. I wish my arm was better…"

"When your arm is healed, we'll have all the time in the world."

"I know, but I miss…" She trails off, looking into your eyes.

"I miss it too, but the most important thing to me is that you heal properly.

"I'm really doin' everything the doctor said. I need to have full use of it when fishin' season starts up again. What good's a captain when she can't use her arm?"

"I'm sure you'd still be a fine captain without the use of it. You always find a way to make things work."

"Ya know, so much of who I am is wrapped up in my boat. I just can't imagine who I'd be without it."

"I think you'd still make something special of yourself. I imagine you'd find a way to do good on land."

"I feel like I'm lost a bit since Pop died. If I didn't have ya lookin' out for me, I'd probably be driftin' about aimlessly, tryin' to find a place where I fit in."

"I know that it's been difficult for you, now that a lot of the people on this island treat you differently."

"I'm just different, that's who I am. Pop couldn't raise me to be like a girl because I wanted no part in that. It's just that without him, people look at me funny when I walk around in my trousers."

"They shouldn't. I didn't know your father when I met you and I thought it was brave of you to do that. It's hard being a woman, we all have to make our way the best we know how."

"I think ya might be the only one around who's ever expressed that it was hard to be a woman."

"It is. I look at my mother, who works just as hard as my father each day, yet she's the one who cooks each meal, does the laundry, cleans the apartment and cares for my sisters. I love my father, but I think he might be lost without my mother."

"I guess it's different for me, since my Pop did all those things until Willie and I were old enough to help out. I never really saw how men were and how women were."

"I think that's what makes you so special. You're just you." You tilt your chin up and catch her bottom lip. "I admire you for that."

"Ya probably are the only one."

"That's not true, the boys on your crew respect you like no one else. As far as everyone else goes, they don't matter."

"It's strange, ya know? I never realized that I was lonely until ya came around and I didn't feel so lonely anymore."

"I feel the same way, sweetheart. When I was in school, all of the girls were always talking about the boys they were going to marry and I just…didn't fit in. I'd talk about it too, pretending I was interested in Roderigo Perez or Juan Gutierrez, but the truth was, I didn't want to marry either of them. I'd imagine that I'd live in my parents' house forever, helping my mother with the girls until they were grown and then helping them as they aged. There was no one I could talk to that also felt different."

"I guess I at least had Davey to talk to. I knew he liked boys and I liked girls too for a really long time. Then we found Cherry Grove."

"I'm sure there are places in the city where the homosexuals go, I just never would have sought that out. I probably really would have been alone forever until you kissed me that night."

"Do ya know how scared I was? I never kissed a girl outside of Cherry Grove before, it was too dangerous."

"You kissing me was the scariest thing that ever happened to me…and the best."

"Do ya still get scared?" She asks you, eyes earnest.

"Not when we're safe in our house. I do get scared sometimes when we're out of it. I wonder what people would think, what Mr. Woodhull would do if he found out, if my parents would keep me away from the little girls."

"I get scared too ya know. Not so much about people finding out, they already think I'm odd, but what would happen if something happened to ya and I was just your landlord."

"I think everyone knows that you're more than just my landlord."

"But even as your best friend. I can't be your wife out in the world and I wish for that more than anything."

"I wish for it too. I long to hold your hand so often."

"Ya have it now." She squeezes your hand. "At least we have that."

"This house is the safest place I've ever known. It still amazes me every day that you built it for us."

"I wanted ya to have a place here, I never wanted ya to go."

"Even when I thought I might go back to the city, it was never because I didn't love you, it was because I didn't know how I could. Here, I've figured it out. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

"Ya sure do talk real sweet sometimes."

You snuggle further into her side and she hands you your mug of hot chocolate, now that it's cooled a bit. Under the lights of the Christmas tree, you sip it quietly, just appreciating her presence as you do. She strokes your hair, she kisses your forehead and you realize that though you'd forgone gifts this year, this moment is the perfect one. Before you realize it, you've fallen asleep against her body and you're not sure how much time has passed before she wakes you up.

"If I had both arms, I'd've carried ya up to bed so I didn't have to disturb your rest."

"It's okay, I'm sorry I fell asleep on you."

"It's alright, ya were tired. We ought to go up to bed."

"Brittany?"

"Yeah."

"I love you."

"I love ya too."