She flopped across the bed, and stared at the phone. Telling her parents had gone exceptionally well. So well, that she was actually a little bit concerned that this was going to end up a dream sequence, like that one season of Dallas. And she couldn't help but wonder if her good fortune would hold out through an entire holiday dinner starring her parents and Sharon. Wasn't this all just a little fast? Still, she supposed she ought to at least call Sharon, and let her know that the coming out part hadn't resulted in cardiac arrest for either of her parents, and neither of them had threatened to roast her right along with the turkey. If the tables were turned, she'd want to know Sharon was okay. She keyed in the digits, and rolled over on her back.
"Raydor." Sharon sounded distracted as she answered the phone.
"I'm not dead, and you're not on a plane."
"Of course you're not dead. But are they praying for your immortal soul?"
"Sharon! We're not Catholic. They'd tell the preacher to pray for me. But no. Apparently Rachel Maddow and Ellen paved the way for us. Also Jodi Foster. Which is ironic, since I wasn't allowed to watch cable as a child."
"I'm glad it went well." Sharon laughed.
"So well, in fact, that you're invited for dinner." Brenda bit her lip.
"Tonight?"
"Well, yes. My mother overheard you saying it was going to be a red-eye flight. And now that you're on her give-a-damn list, you should be prepared to be fed at every opportunity."
"But this evening is generally reserved for family, is it not?"
"Sharon. You're family now. If they're not gonna try and pray away the gay, I think they're just going to act like you're my boyfriend, only with better hair and shoes."
"Hm. What should I wear? Are Southern Family dinners dress up events?"
"Course not. Wear those jeans I like. And a nice top and maybe a blazer. "
"I'm not wearing the jeans you like. Your parents are there."
"Spoilsport. Dinner should be ready in an hour. See you soon."
"Should I bring anything?"
"Those jeans."
"Good bye, Brenda."
Brenda ended the call with a swipe of her finger, and stared up at the ceiling. It had been a very long time since she'd had any inclination to pray, but she couldn't help herself, and she sent a silent plea to the heavens that everyone could make it through dinner without any major breakdowns in communication. Rolling to the side of the bed, she stood up, and stood in front of her closet. Her parents weren't dressed up, Willie Rae was in slacks and a Christmas sweater festooned with reindeer that resembled llamas; and Clay was in jeans and an UGA sweatshirt. Sharon would be casual. But that didn't mean Brenda had to be. She rested her hand on the red dress. It fit the seasonal theme, if you looked just so—maybe Mrs. Claus had a posh side…
Clay glanced up as Brenda came down the stairs into the living room.
"I take it your new ladyfriend will be joining us for dinner then?" He drawled, arching an eyebrow at her dress.
"She'll be here soon, yes. Y'all are going to behave, right Daddy?" Brenda replied, ignoring the jibe.
"Somehow, Brenda Leigh, I feel as though I ought to be asking you that question, 'stead of the other way round. But your mother and I agree, we're not doing anything to scare this one off."
Brenda opened her mouth to object, and then thought better of it. If the old-fashioned need for their baby girl to have a caretaker meant that they were going to accept this—thing—with Sharon, then she wasn't going to jinx it. She smiled tightly at her father, and then moved into the kitchen.
"Is Sharon able to make it?" Willie Rae asked as she leaned over the oven to turn off the timer.
"Yes, Mama, she'll be here in a little bit. You need any help with anything else?" Brenda spoke over her shoulder as she reached for a wine glass, and then fetched the merlot, removing the cork with a resonant pop.
Willie Rae shook her head as she used her ankle to shove the oven door closed, then turned with two piping hot pies balanced in her hands. She set them on the trivets already in place on the counter, and Brenda couldn't help but wonder when she'd acquired trivets. Fritz must've bought them, and then left them behind. She scanned the kitchen. So much of her history with her ex was right here in this room, and the incongruity of her first Christmas without him, and her first Christmas with Sharon was a surprisingly stark contrast. Apart from a toothbrush, and an extraordinarily large bottle of something called 'detangling rinse', Sharon hadn't done much in terms of marking her territory. Brenda smiled to herself, remembering the first time Fritz spent the night; she'd woken the next morning to find a note apologizing for his stealthy departure, he'd been called into work-but he'd left his belt looped over her bedpost, and his cufflinks on the nightstand, and she could remember how right those things had looked—how easily he'd fit into the predefined framework of her life. She wondered if the simplicity of that, compared to the sometimes overwhelming complexities of her relationship with Sharon were omens. Maybe this thing with Sharon would work out, if only because they were actually working at it.
The doorbell jarred her from her musings, and she set her wine aside and started into the living room to answer the door. Her heart sank a little when she realized Clay had been faster to his feet, and was already pulling the heavy wooden door open to reveal a smiling Sharon, or at least, Brenda thought she was smiling, but it was hard to tell behind the mountain of presents the brunette held in her arms. Clay shoved the screen door open, and held out his hands.
"Here, let me take some of that off your shoulders, and you come on in and make yourself at home. Guess you already know where everything is, seeing as you've been seeing my daughter for the better part of the year." He swept a pile of papers aside on the table in the entry, and stacked the gifts there.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Johnson, I appreciate the help." Sharon smiled widely, a smile Brenda wasn't sure she'd ever seen before.
"Call me Clay. We're practically family, after all!" He boomed, clapping her on the shoulder. "And you can call Brenda Leigh's mama Willie Rae, isn't that right Willie Rae?" He called out, as he ushered Sharon inside.
"'Course she can call me Willie Rae, I already told her that at the station! Stop tormenting those poor girls, and come set down at the table like we're civilized folk. Sharon might think we're Methodist!"
At that, Sharon let out a short laugh that made Clay grin in her direction. Brenda watched the crinkles at the corners of his eye deepen, and let out a sigh of relief when he squeezed Sharon's shoulder and nodded. He headed for the dining room, tossing off a wink in Brenda's direction as he passed.
"Methodist?" Sharon whispered, and then chuckled again. "So I would've been in the dog house if I'd taken you to a Methodist church, but having my way with you gets me invited to Christmas dinner?"
Brenda tried her best to look scandalized, but the inelegant giggle snort seemed to stand in the way of that goal. She stepped forward and slid her arms around Sharon, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"There are apparently only two things my parents can't stand. Georgia Tech fans, and Methodists. Who knew?" Brenda breathed in the citrus cloud that surrounded Sharon, before pulling away suddenly. "You don't like Georgia Tech, do you?!" She whispered, horrified.
Sharon shook her head, gamely trying to keep a straight face. "No, but I don't root for UGA, either. I'm strictly a Gamecocks girl."
~~~
As they gathered around the table, Sharon couldn't help but goggle at the volume of food artfully arranged around a centerpiece that surely couldn't have belonged to Brenda. She slid into her seat across from Brenda, and realized that thanks to the sprawling array of flowers and beads spilling forth from the bronzed vase, there was no way she was going to be able to see Brenda's face, a thing she'd been counting on, to better navigate the dinner conversation. Though the elder Johnsons seemed genuinely pleased at her presence, Sharon admitted to a certain Yankee-induced prejudice, in that she expected Southern Protestants of any flavor to be inherently homophobic.
Motion in her peripheral vision caused her attention to snap back to the dinner table, where both Willie Rae and Clay had their hands extended towards her. Lapsed though she was, the Catholic in her cringed at being part of a WASP prayer circle. Still, when in Rome, and all that. She took their hands, and bowed her head.
"God is good, God is great, we thank you for this food, let's eat!" Clay solemnly intoned.
"Clayton Robert Johnson, if you don't stop showing out for our guest, you're going to have to take that RV all the way back home to find a slice of edible pumpkin' pie. Now say grace properly, so we can feed these poor girls before they waste away to nothing!" Willie Rae's tone didn't leave room for much argument.
Clearing his throat, Clay squeezed Sharon's hand a bit, before beginning again. "Dear Heavenly Father, we thank you for this delicious buffet set before us, and for imbuing my Willie Rae with the ability to rattle those pots and pans with the best of them. We thank you for a quiet night with no murders and whatnot; so that Brenda's new ladyfriend can stay and play Yahtzee with us after dinner. And we thank you for giving us a daughter for whom, hopefully, the third time will be the charm, and who decided to make a career in California, because if it had to be someplace other than Georgia, at least it's not cold. Amen."
Willie Rae grumbled a grudging Amen, and Brenda, then Sharon, followed suit. Clay handed the platter of ham to Sharon, and Brenda reached for the baked macaroni & cheese. Willie Rae began buttering a biscuit, and looked appraisingly at Sharon.
"Brenda Leigh tells me you have children. Tell me about them." She smiled, as she spoke.
"Serena is 26, and in her 3rd year of medical school. She has always been my serious, studious, over-achiever. She puts 110% into everything she does, from learning to walk, to learning how to perform surgeries. I worry that I forgot to teach her how to have fun. Jeff is 24, and a junior, majoring in either pizza and beer, or Information Technology, although they may actually be the same thing, if the cybercrimes division at the station is any indication. He's a good student, and in Phi Beta Kappa, which is an honor society, but he's also the social chair of Sigma Nu, which is…decidedly not an honor society. I feel blessed to have managed to raise them without irreparable physical or mental damage, and if they make it past the age of 30 without coming home to live in my basement, or being convicted of anything, then I will count myself among the mothers who aren't that bad." She spooned some suspiciously casserolish green beans on to her plate, and tried to surreptitiously determine what was coating them.
"They sound lovely! Does Serena have a beau?"
"As I understand it, she is dating, but it's nothing serious, as she feels she doesn't have time for that right now."
"Nonsense. There's always time for love!" Willie Rae cut into the meat on her plate, and speared a piece, before pointing her fork at Sharon. "Careers are important nowadays, but we have to try and make sure our girls don't forget that the heart is a muscle what needs exercise just like any other one. I'm counting on you helping me out on that with Brenda, of course."
Sharon smiled tightly around a forkful of-what she had belatedly realized-was actually green bean casserole, clearly drowned in cream of something soup, and then covered in those strange fried onion crisps that seemed to be available in every convenience store ever. The marshmallow casserole she'd helped Willie Rae with at the station had been a breeze for her game face. But then, she hadn't had to try a bite. The beans, however, were testing her ability to act her age, and not deposit the whole unpleasant mess into her napkin. She reached for her water, and tried not to sigh audibly with relief after swallowing.
"Serena has always expressed an interest in starting a family after she finishes school, and her residency. As I said before, her level of focus is intense, and she doesn't like to give less than her best. Residency is the most challenging time someone hoping to become a doctor. I'm fairly certain she's reticent about having to split her attentions between an essential step in her training, and a love interest. When she gives herself a chance to fall, I suspect some lucky young man won't know what hit him. But that will happen when she's ready."
Brenda could practically hear her mother's internal monologue, bemoaning yet another career minded woman thwarting her plans at spoiling squalling infants. She quickly swallowed the bit of ham she'd taken, and cleared her throat.
"So, at the station, Fritz said y'all had some exciting news! I've been dying to hear it all day!"
"Well, sugar, we already mentioned it, earlier, but maybe you missed it because you were worried about how we'd take the news about you and Sharon. Your mother and I are now the proud owners of an Airstream Recreational Vehicle. So we'll be spending a few months here in L.A, catching up! Then we'll go and visit your brothers." Clay took a pull from his beer, apparently oblivious to the look of horror that crossed Brenda's face before she could school her features.
"That is exciting! A few months? I don't think you can keep it parked on my street that long, though."
"Oh, don't you worry your head about that. There's an RV park about 15 minutes away from here, so we can have brunch on the weekends you're not working, and I can make you some meals to keep in your freezer. You're not getting any younger, Brenda, and I worry about how much Chinese food you can eat, what with all that MSG and such." Willie Rae winked at Sharon, and continued; "But your father and I weren't born yesterday, so we'll call first, before we show up, so we don't stumble across any improprieties."
Sharon dearly wished she could see Brenda's face, but judging from the twinkle in Clay's eye, it was probably exactly as horrified as she pictured it. Though she kept a neutral expression, if she was being honest with herself, (and that was becoming an alarming regularity since Brenda had become a fixture in her life) the prospect of having the Johnsons so near was jarring. She supposed she was glad that Brenda had already basically said "I love you", because something told her the coming months would be challenging, to say the least.