It's another cold winter Sunday in Derry. A gust of wind batters the walls of the church, whistling as it enters through a crack in the window. Erin Quinn blows on her hands and rubs them together furiously. Next to her, her Ma lets out a long sigh and turns to Aunt Sarah.
"If only they'd fix that fecking window." She mutters, glaring at the cracked window.
"Aye, I know. Perhaps we should be off, Mary. The wains will freeze if we stick about much longer."
"Please, Mammy! I'm freezing." Erin interjects, a little too loudly.
Her mother shushes her and looks around furtively. "Mass won't be much longer. It'll be more bother than it's worth."
"Mammy!" Erin whines, sinking back into her seat. Mass will be another half hour, at least.
Her Grandda leans forward from his place at Aunt Sarah's other side. "Here, love, take these."
He takes off his wool mittens and hands them to Erin. She gratefully slips them onto her hands and sighs in relief.
"Thanks Grandda!" Erin whispers back. He winks at her and settles back into his spot.
The next thirty minutes seem to pass agonizingly slowly with no end in sight. Finally, the priest finishes his sermon and dismisses them to enjoy the rest of their Sunday. Ma and Aunt Sarah quickly usher the family towards the coat room, where they all bundle up and head back into the freezing cold. Erin joins her parents and her little sister in one car as Orla, Aunt Sarah, and her Grandda get into the other car.
Erin settles into the backseat of the car and leans close to the window, watching frost form as she lets out a breath. Curling her fingers inside Grandda's mittens, she watches the window start to clear, the frost melting as the car warms up. Her Dad puts the car into drive, and they set off for home. Thankfully, the journey is a short one, and soon they are home.
As soon as the car pulls to a stop, Erin jumps out, rushing to the door. Her Da takes the baby out of the car and they all crowd around the door as her Ma fishes around in her purse for the keys.
As soon as she opens the door, Erin and Orla run inside eagerly. They kick off their shoes and toss their coats on the staircase railing, heading straight for the kitchen.
The rest of the family follow at a slightly more sedate pace, taking their seats at the kitchen table as Grandda puts the kettle on. Da fetches the tin of biscuits from the cupboard and passes them around as Grandda pours tea for them all.
Clutching the warm mug tightly, Erin crams a biscuit in her mouth and sighs in contentment. There is a moment of silence while they all take a minute to warm up and drink their tea as the wind howls outside.
"Christ's sake, that was a dull sermon." Grandda says, reaching for another biscuit.
"That's what you get with a new priest, isn't it?" Aunt Sarah says thoughtfully. "It's never the same as the old one."
"Well, it's not like Father Colin decided to up and leave." Ma says, rolling her eyes. "He died, that's what!"
"Selfish bastard." Grandda grumbles.
"You can't blame the man for dying, Joe." Erin's Da points out, getting up to pour himself another cup of tea.
"I can and I will. That prick knew what he was doing, leaving us with some young eedjit."
"Yes, I'm sure he planned to die of cancer at forty-five, just to spite his congregation." Da rolls his eyes skyward.
"It's all in the mind, isn't it?" Aunt Sarah says sagely. "That's what Father Colin didn't understand."
Ma gives her an incredulous look. "Aye Sarah, cancer's all in the mind. Nothing to do with a tumor."
"You're underestimating the power of the mind, Mary."
"Give me strength."
"Well, I only hope this new priest wisens up a bit." Da says quickly as Aunt Sarah opens her mouth to respond.
"Aye, if he keeps this up Colm will have competition before long." Grandda snorts.
Erin turns her empty mug in her hands, letting the family's complaints wash over her. She reaches for another biscuit and takes a large bite. If the others notice that she's quieter than usual, they ignore it and continue complaining about Colm, the subject of the new priest temporarily forgotten.
Erin taps her fingers on the mug and thinks. She's been considering how to broach this particular subject with her family for weeks, ever since she decided that it was time she tell them the truth. She's been waiting for the right moment, but with her family, there never is a 'right moment' to tell them something like this. There's always something happening, some crisis or chaos that interrupts the opportunity to tell them. Maybe the perfect moment doesn't exist.
She clears her throat, interrupting Grandda's recounting of the time Colm talked their mother to sleep in the nursing home.
"I have something to tell you."
They all look over at her, startled. There is a moment of silence as Erin tries to find the words.
"Well?" Ma says impatiently. "You're not in any trouble, are you?"
"No, no."
Erin clears her throat again and sits up straighter.
"I - um - that is - I - I think - I mean I know -" She cuts herself off and takes a deep breath.
"I'm bisexual. I fancy girls as well as lads."
Her family stares at her for a moment.
"You're a lesbian?" Grandda asks.
"No, Grandda. I do fancy lads, but I also fancy girls. It's different than being lesbian."
"Ah." He shrugs, reaching for yet another biscuit. "All right then."
"Good for you, love." Da says, smiling gently.
"So, is that like a threesome, then?" Aunt Sarah asks, interested.
"No, Aunt Sarah." Erin sighs.
"I'm asexual." Orla announces suddenly. "I fancy relationships, but just not the sex bit."
Da inhales suddenly and chokes on his tea, coughing as Ma thumps his back several times.
"Thank you for sharing." She says, taking Da's cup from him. "There's nothing wrong with that."
Erin sighs in relief, and leans back in her chair.
"I just felt I should tell you all." She says, as Orla nods in agreement.
Ma rises from the table and takes her cup to the sink. "Honestly, girls, I really don't give a feck who you're attracted to or not."
The others nod in agreement, although Grandda and Aunt Sarah still look rather confused.
"So, how do you decide, then?" Aunt Sarah asks. "Which do you fancy more? Do you trade off between lads and lasses?"
Erin sighs.
"No, Aunt Sarah."
