Author's Note: A Deveright side-story for Christmas. Set after Play It Good and Right on the Deveright timeline and after Every Hour Has Come To This on the main timeline.
Unbetaed and only proofed once, so all (the many) mistakes are my own. Happy Holidays to those who celebrate.
All My Nights Taste Like Gold
Oh, all my nights taste like gold
Yeah, when I'm with you it's like everything glows
And all my days we can lay low
Yeah, when we're waking up
We're waking up slow.
~Waking Up Slow, Gabrielle Aplin
Their flight gets into Gerald R Ford International Airport close to nine o'clock. They'd both somehow managed to squeeze five days worth of work into less than three just to be able to make their six-thirty flight out of Newark, and while Josie had been glad for the two plus hours to finally have a chance to relax, Sarah had spent the entire flight fidgeting with nervousness at the impending introduction of Josie to her family.
The nervousness hasn't gone anywhere now that they're back on solid ground, but it's currently festering beneath the need to retrieve Josie's suitcase from the baggage carousel and then find her brother, Michael, who had volunteered to pick them up at the airport in Grand Rapids and drive them home to Fennville. Thankfully, Michigan is between snowstorms at the moment, so the roads are blessedly dry. She only hopes it stays that way through Christmas so they can get back to New York without any major delays. They both have to be at work bright and early Monday morning.
A smile touches her lips as she thinks about spending the holiday at home. She hasn't been able to manage a visit since the end of May, and she'd burned a week of vacation to do it. Josie had wanted to come with her then, but—well, it had been way too early in their relationship for the whole meeting the parents thing in Sarah's opinion.
Josie hadn't agreed.
They've been dating since the end of April, but it's taken Sarah a while to let go of her reservations about how this could all end. Honestly, she still has a few of those, of which Josie is more than aware, which is why she'd more or less invited herself home with Sarah for Christmas despite having her own family less than four hours away who'd wanted her—them—to come to Boston.
Sarah has been to Boston. It had taken two months of dating, a well-executed guilt trip from Josie, and some even more well-executed bribery with historical buildings to get her there, but she'd survived being introduced to Jo's parents and sister and the mildly intimidating, fourteen room mansion they call home.
Despite the fourteen rooms, Charlotte Deveraux hadn't blinked an eye before putting Sarah in Josie's room with Josie. The experience was so far from what Sarah is used to or what she knows Josie is about to encounter at her parents' house, and she can't help but worry that it will somehow change things between them.
Her reluctance to bring Josie home to meet her parents has been two-fold. The Cartwrights aren't exactly the most laid back people on the planet. They've accepted Sarah's sexuality for the most part because they love her unconditionally, but she knows that they'd both have preferred her to be interested in men. In the absence of that, she suspects they're just hoping for her to find someone nice and normal and preferably living within a hundred mile radius. Needless to say, they hadn't really liked Quinn very much the one time she'd come home with Sarah for spring break from Yale, and Sarah is worried that the same thing will happen with Josie.
Her bigger worry is that Josie will take one look at her small house in her small hometown that exactly no one would consider a hotbed of culture or entertainment and rethink her insane offer to follow Sarah back to Michigan one day. Sarah still isn't sure how much faith she truly has in that offer since it had been born from Josie's frustration with her reluctance to go to Boston.
"I just think it's still too soon for that," Sarah had defended at the time.
"Why do I still feel like you're marking off some secret calendar until our inevitable breakup?" Josie had asked her with sad eyes. Those eyes were lethal weapons, really.
"Maybe because I still feel like it's inevitable," Sarah had felt compelled to admit. She'd been in danger of falling hard for Josie—was in the middle of it already—and meeting each other's parents felt like a solid step toward a possible future that had the potential to hurt her even more when it all fell apart. "When I eventually move back home..."
"I'll come with you," Josie had been quick to say—easy and unconcerned, like it was just that simple.
"You say that now."
Josie had taken her hands, caught her gaze and held it with determination. "I mean that, Sarah. If that's the only reason you can see us breaking up, then it's nothing. I can practice law anywhere."
She'd sounded so certain of that, but, "You'd have to take the bar exam again."
Josie had shrugged it off, grinning crookedly. "Actually, I might be able to avoid that in Michigan if I've been practicing here for at least three years. I've already got one under my belt, and you're at least a year away from your license, so…" She'd shrugged again, letting the sentence go without a firm ending, but Sarah had very clearly understood her meaning. If she could agree to stay in New York for at least two more years, Josie would have an easier time getting licensed to practice in Michigan. That understanding had come with another, much more profound one.
"You've been looking into Michigan's bar requirements?"
It hadn't really been a question, but Josie had answered it without hesitation "Yeah. Obviously."
Simple. Certain. Easy and unconcerned.
And Sarah had been left breathless, falling even faster for a woman who was clearly serious about being with her for the long haul.
It's what had ultimately gotten her to Boston to meet the Deverauxs and to start thinking about a future with Josie beyond the here and now.
It's why she hadn't been able to put up much of an argument to Josie coming home with her for Christmas, and why she really wants this visit with her parents to go well.
And now they're about an hour drive away from the inevitable.
"This is a nice airport," Josie comments, glancing around as they make their way to baggage claim.
Sarah looks up from her phone, where she's just fired off a text to let Mike know that they've landed. "I can't quite tell if you're being sincere or sarcastic." While it's true that Ford is generally cleaner and brighter than any of the airports in New York, it's also much, much smaller—just one terminal with two concourses and fifteen gates between them.
Josie flashes her a grin. "Completely sincere. I happen to like the smaller airports. They're much less of a hassle to get through."
"Well, that's true," Sarah concedes. "Although, this one tends to be just as crazy around the holidays." The small security checkpoint can get pretty backed up if you hit it at the wrong time, and she's hoping that won't be the case when they fly out on Sunday but suspects that's just wishful thinking on her part.
Josie slips her hand into Sarah's free one. "Every place is crazy around the holidays, especially Boston. I'm looking forward to a nice, cozy, small town Christmas for a change."
Sarah shoots her a wry look. "If you've got visions of bad Hallmark movies in your head, you can just get them out of there right now. There's no family tree farm to save or town gazebo to rebuild in time for the Christmas pageant. And Santa isn't any more real here than he is in New York."
Josie laughs at that. "I suppose I can live with that if it means there's also no childhood sweetheart to steal the cynical heroine away from her rich, citified girlfriend."
Sarah rolls her eyes. "Yeah. There's no chance of that happening." Neither of her high school (kind of) girlfriends had actually even lived in her town. "Also, you know you're the wrong gender for the Hallmark version of that trope."
"Pity," Josie sighs. "Those bad Christmas movies would be so much better if they were gay."
Chuckling, Sarah nods her agreement. "I can't argue with that."
It doesn't take them long at all to get to the baggage carousel—small airport, after all—and Sarah positions them right in front of the ramp where the bags come out so she can watch for Josie's suitcase. She hadn't checked one for herself, having perfected the art of compact packing. She'd managed to get everything into one duffle bag that fit under the seat, and she'd gone ahead and shipped her gifts home ahead of her last Friday so she wouldn't have to worry about carrying them on the plane.
Luckily, Josie's bag appears fairly quickly—Sarah really can't miss the Redsox sticker her girlfriend had marked it with—and she makes a grab for it, only to be thwarted by Josie' faster reflexes. "I've got it," she assures Sarah, easily hoisting it off the conveyor belt. "You've got your own bag to juggle."
"I can do both," Sarah automatically protests. "I'm very good at multitasking." It's always been a habit for her to offer to do those types of things for other people, and it still occasionally catches her off guard everytime Josie beats her to the punch, so to speak, but she can't say she doesn't appreciate her girlfriend's chivalrous streak.
"Oh, I know you are," Josie drawls, smirking in that way that never fails to make Sarah blush. "And I'm all for letting you demonstrate that particular talent of yours anytime you want," and her meaning is really unmistakeable, even without that particular husky purr in her voice, "but my first impression on your brother will not involve me letting you carry all my luggage."
Sarah's eyes widen in realization. "Are you actually worried about that?" Josie has always seemed so confident, and she'd been so determined to come home with her for Christmas that Sarah hadn't even considered that she might actually be nervous about making a good impression on her family, especially when she'd been so unfazed and reassuring about Sarah meeting hers.
Josie shrugs one shoulder. "I just don't want to give them reasons to not like me."
Guilt slithers through Sarah. She has a feeling that her own nervousness about this meeting and her initial reluctance to bring Josie home have probably done some damage to her otherwise self-assured girlfriend. And it's not like Josie isn't fully aware of the less than wonderful impression that Quinn had made on her family. She's sure Quinn had told her all about her trip to Michigan even before Sarah had. She wishes she were better at offering reassurances, but it's not generally one of her strengths—even without her own doubts coloring the attempt.
But there is one thing that she's absolutely certain of. "It's very hard to not like you, Jo." Sarah steps closer, reaching out to take Josie's hand with a soft smile. "You just have this way of making people feel like they can talk to you...even when they've only just met you. It's actually kind of...amazing." And it's one of the things that Sarah loves most about her. "If my family doesn't like you...then they're stupid. And I'll tell them that."
Probably.
In a nice way.
Over the phone after she's back in New York.
Josie's lips curve into a smile. "Look at you...being all protective. So sexy," she murmurs before she leans forward to steal a brief kiss, careful to keep it relatively chaste in deference to their very public surroundings.
"Don't start something you can't finish," Sarah warns quietly, "because you can't. Not while we're staying with my parents." She's already warned Josie that they won't be as accommodating about their sleeping arrangements as the Deverauxs had been.
Josie groans quietly. "I suppose it's too late to spring for a hotel?"
Sarah bites back a laugh. "There aren't any hotels in Fennville. Just a bed and breakfast across from the funeral home, and I guarantee we wouldn't have any privacy there either." The owners aren't exactly known for their discretion. They're the second biggest gossips in town—and that's coming from someone who's aunt owns her own bed and breakfast in Saugatuck.
Josie sighs dramatically. "I guess we'll have to settle for a few stolen moments in the barn under the pretense of gathering firewood."
"I don't know what Quinn's been telling you, but there's no barn," Sarah points out with a frown. "Not on our property, anyway."
Laughing, Josie tugs her closer for another quick kiss. "I know, hon. I'm only teasing." Her grin turns a little wicked around the edges. "Quinn did tell me about the shed though."
Sarah feels her face heat at the memory. "We were in there for, like, two minutes," she mutters in embarrassment. "Looking for the garden stakes. And Quinn complained about the cobwebs the whole time." Sarah's weak attempt to distract her with kisses hadn't been very successful at all.
Josie laughs again. "Well, I won't complain about a thing if you want me to help you look for the snow shovels."
"Don't jinx us," Sarah cautions, giving into her own smile. "We may just need those before the holiday is over."
Josie's expression goes soft. "I wouldn't mind being snowed in with you."
There's a familiar flutter in Sarah's heart at her girlfriend's words, but, "Tell me if you still feel that way after spending four days with my parents."
"I'm sure I will," Josie says sincerely, squeezing her hand. "But first I have to actually meet them, so we should probably get moving."
"I guess we should," Sarah agrees before checking her phone for the latest text from her brother. "Mike is in the cell lot," she relays, sending him a text to let him know they're ready to be picked up. "It should only take him a couple of minutes to drive around."
"Then lead the way."
So Sarah does, walking the familiar short path from baggage claim to the curbside pickup area, where they wait just inside the glass doors for Michael's Ford Explorer to pull up. When it does, they step outside to a blast of frigid air that's twenty degrees colder than the already cold temperatures they'd left back in New York, and she can feel Josie physically shiver next to her.
She's not really surprised when Mike throws the SUV into park and pops out of the door with a huge smile on his face. "Doozer," he shouts, arms thrown wide open as he jogs toward her. Sarah only has a moment to brace herself before she's engulfed in her brother's bear hug and lifted off the ground. "Welcome home."
Sarah can't stop the breathless laugh from escaping her. It's been months since she's seen her brother in person and experienced one of his hugs. "It's good to see you, Mike."
With one final squeeze, he sets her back on her feet and steps back with a smile that only gets wider when his gaze drifts just beyond Sarah. "And you must be Josie," he says, extending a hand to greet her. "I'm Mike."
Josie accepts his hand and gives it a firm shake. "Hi. It's nice to meet you. Sarah's told me so much about you."
Mike chuckles as he lets go of Josie's hand. "Good things, I hope."
Josie glances at Sarah with a smile of her own. "Of course."
"She hasn't told us nearly enough about you," he drawls with a teasing grin, ignoring Sarah's huff of protest, "so be prepared for a lot of questions."
Josie shoots her a questioning look, and Sarah feels her cheeks heat. She certainly has told her family about Josie—just maybe more in vague generalities than specific details. She thinks she'd told them all the really important things though.
"I don't mind," Josie assures him with an affable smile. "I'm an open book."
Mike laughs. "Pretty much the opposite of Doozer here." Mike claps Sarah on the shoulder, and she cringes at his repeated use of her nickname in front of Josie. "You probably noticed she's a quiet one."
Frowning, Sarah punches his arm. "Shut up, Mike."
He laughs again. "See."
"Just load the car," Sarah orders, tossing her duffle bag at him.
He catches it with ease, slipping it onto his shoulder as he reaches for Josie's suitcase. "Allow me." And then he's popping the hatch.
"I'm sorry about him," Sarah mutters, directing Josie to the passenger door.
"Don't be. He seems fun," Josie muses with a grin, blue eyes twinkling. "Doozer?"
Sarah blushes again, ducking her head. "Can we just forget you heard that?"
"Not happening. You will be telling me about that nickname," Josie warns playfully.
"Later," Sarah dismisses, opening the door for Josie. "Maybe."
One tawny eyebrow arches. "Are you sure you want me riding shotgun? Wouldn't you rather be up front so you and your brother can catch up on the drive?"
Sarah frowns, eyeing the front seat for a moment before glancing back at her brother in time to see him close the hatch and peek around the back of the Explorer with a thumbs up sign directed at her and a clearly mouthed 'she's hot.' Thank God Josie is facing away from him. "Would you mind?" she asks Josie, deciding it might be better to put a little buffer between them for the time being and hopefully stop Mike from embarrassing her anymore than he already has.
Josie chuckles. "I'm fine with the backseat." She brushes a quick kiss to Sarah's cheek before grinning wickedly. "I've got plenty of time to pump your family for embarrassing stories about you."
Sarah groans as she watches Josie slide into the car. It's going to be a long drive.
In fact, it's only about a fifty minute drive, and since Mike drives like a maniac, Sarah expects they'll probably manage it in forty-five. Her brother mostly takes it easy on Sarah in terms of relaying embarrassing stories, though he does tell Josie about that nickname when she decides to ask him, no doubt sensing that he'll be much more forthcoming than Sarah.
"It's from Fraggle Rock," he laughingly relays. "This old Jim Henson show that our Mom had on DVD. She's a big muppets fan, so we grew up watching them even though they're mostly from before our time." There's a fond grin on his face that Sarah mirrors at the memory. Mom still loves all the old muppet movies and television shows. "Anyway, there are these little green dudes called doozers that wear construction hats and spend all day building these elaborate towers and bridges. They reminded me of Sarah with her lego sets, and since she decided to go and become a fancy architect, I feel justified still calling her that."
"He's the only one that does," Sarah is quick to clarify, crossing her arms defensively. "And he's conveniently leaving out part of the story." She glares at her brother who only smirks back at her.
"And that is?" Josie prompts, leaning forward as far as her seatbelt will allow.
With a sigh, Sarah turns in her seat to address Josie. "The doozers build everything in the fraggle caves, and they put in all this work, only to have the fraggles come through and knock everything down."
"That's rude," Josie murmurs sympathetically, though she's clearly battling her amusement.
"Hear that, Michael?" Sarah asks, glancing back at her brother again. "Josie thinks it was rude."
Mike laughs again. "I was twelve...and kind of a little shit," he admits after a beat.
Sarah turns back to Josie, hooking a thumb in her brother's direction. "He was the fraggle. He used to rip apart all my legos after I'd built them. I don't think there was ever one thing that I didn't have to build at least twice."
"She's exaggerating," Micheal defends. "I only did that for a year or so, and I caught hell for it every single time from Mom and Dad. Meanwhile, this one never got in trouble once for constantly stealing my Nintendo DS."
"I didn't steal it," Sarah insists. "I borrowed it. I can't help it you didn't like to share."
"Maybe because you were always losing my game cards, and I was stuck with Tetris."
Sarah sinks down in the seat a little lower, because she can't exactly argue with that one. "Well, you had stupid games," she mumbles, blushing again when both Micheal and Josie laugh.
She's happy when the conversation shifts to the latest happenings in Michael's life with his wife, Carrie, and the baby they're expecting in the srping. They live in Holland, which is about twenty minutes away from their parents—close enough to visit regularly but far enough away to have their own life. Carrie is a pharmacist at the local Walgreens while Mike works at a software company. Sarah had been hoping to get her apprenticeship at one of the two architectural firms located there, but those hopes had obviously been dashed. It's still her plan to submit her application to them again, along with several firms in Grand Rapids, once she has her license.
They come off of I-196 into a familiar patchwork of farmland and manufacturing complexes. The ground is a collage of melting snow and brown, muddy grass barely visible in the dark of the night, and Sarah knows there'll only be more of the same—sprinkled with a spattering of Christmas lights—for the rest of the drive down to Fennville. They won't even need to go through the main part of town to get to her parent's house, and Sarah can't quite decide if it's better or worse that Josie won't have to discover just how small it is for another day or three.
When they turn down Hutchins Lake Road, Sarah's stomach churns with anxiety. She's excited to see her parents, of course, but she knows that having Josie in the house is going to add an extra level of stress for them—and for her. The house is a modest two-story with a semi-finished basement and detached garage that her parents had added about ten years ago, tired of cleaning off the cars in the winter. It's nothing like the house that Josie had grown up in, but it's well-maintained with meticulous landscaping (that won't be appreciated at night under a layer of stubborn, gray snow) and a pretty nice-sized yard. The neighbors are close but not on top of them, and the house is set back far enough from the road behind some old elm trees to make it feel a little more secluded than it actually is.
Even though it's late, the Christmas lights are still on, and Sarah smiles at the sight. Her dad always has loved his lights, and the house is lined with neat red bulbs while the bushes and trees are wrapped in green. Mom never let him buy any of those blowups, thinking they were tacky, so the only decorations in the yard are a couple of lighted deer and the snowflake pathway markers that line the walk. Just seeing it makes her feel like a kid again.
"Wow. I can definitely see where you get your neat streak from. Those lights are perfect," Josie comments, and it's clear from her smile and the tone of her voice that she's charmed. Something eases inside of Sarah at the small show of approval, but then they're getting out of the car and her mother is already out on the porch, shivering in her sweater, with her dad hovering behind her, and it's time for another set of introductions.
Those are delayed briefly by the expected hug that Sarah receives from her mom. She knows better than to expect one from her dad. He's not exactly the warmest, most demonstrative person. He shows his affection in quieter ways. She thinks she probably inherited that from him, for better or worse, while Micheal has mostly been blessed with their mother's friendly demeanor. And sure enough, Sharon Cartwright has a welcoming smile on her face when she finally greets Josie.
"Come in, come in," she urges, waving them towards the door. "It's freezing out here." Her dad slips back into the house, disappearing into the living room ahead of the family. "We're so glad you came with Sarah."
Sarah suspects that might be a tiny white lie for the sake of politeness.
Josie responds with,"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," and Sarah's pretty sure that's the truth. "Thank you for having me."
"There's no need to thank us," Sharon assures her. "Mike, you can put her bag up in your old room," she directs, pointing him to the stairs. "Take Sarah's to hers too. I've freshened everything up for you," she informs Sarah. "I know it's late, but do you want anything to eat or drink? We have some leftover meatloaf. Or I could put on the water for some hot cocoa."
"We're fine, Mom." They'd grabbed a quick dinner at the airport before their flight had taken off.
"But thank you for offering, Mrs. Cartwright," Josie politely adds, unzipping her coat.
"Please call me Sharon," her mother insists. "And take off that coat and come on into the living room and sit down. Sarah, put her coat in the closet, won't you?"
"Sure, Mom," Sarah agrees dutifully. "Though we're both pretty tired from the flight. Maybe we should just turn in and let you and Dad get to bed." And delay the inevitable until tomorrow.
"Your father and I are wide awake," her mother informs her. "We've been waiting for you to get here, but we certainly don't want to keep you up if you're tuckered out."
"I think we can stay awake for a little longer, especially if we don't need to be awake early tomorrow." Josie counters, shooting Sarah a disapproving look that she'd really rather not recognize before handing off her coat. She turns back to Sarah's mother with a pleasant expression. "I've been looking forward to meeting you and Mr. Cartwright for some time now."
Sarah's mother seems pleased by this. "You can call him Henry. He won't tell you that, so I am."
Sarah is only mildly alarmed when her mother guides Josie into the living room ahead of her, and she rushes to jerk open the hallway closet and fumbles for a hanger so she can join them. She's still fussing to get her own coat hung up when Micheal bounds down the stairs and stops beside her with a grin.
"Lose your girlfriend to Mom's hospitality already?"
"She's overcompensating," Sarah whispers harshly. "She told Josie to call Dad Henry. You know he's gonna hate that."
Micheal chuckles. "She's trying to make this one feel more welcome than the last one," he confesses, bumping her shoulder in sympathy. "But seriously, Doozer. How do you keep scoring these gorgeous women?"
Sarah might be offended if she didn't secretly ask herself the same question almost everyday. "Stop being such a guy or I'm telling your wife," she growls, shoving his shoulder in irritation.
His grin only gets bigger. "I guarantee Carrie'll think she's gorgeous too."
She just knows her face is scarlet by now. "Don't you need to get home to her?"
He laughs again, holding up his hands. "I'm going."
Sarah follows him into the living room, where Josie is seated on the couch next to her mother. Her dad is in his chair, staring at the television as usual. She has no idea what they were talking about, but there's a smile on Josie's face, so it couldn't have been too terrible.
Mike says his goodbyes, promising to be on time for Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow night. Mom always cooks her lasagna before they all go to Christmas services at their church. Sarah still feels obligated to go with them even though she doesn't really do church anymore. She kind of wonders if having Josie here might get her out of that this year. Despite her mother's determination to be welcoming, she's not sure they want to have to explain their gay daughter and her girlfreind to the congregation.
"I love your tree," Josie comments after Mike has gone, and Sarah stifles a groan because she knows exactly what's about to happen. Her mother practically glows with pride. If the outside lights are her dad's pride-and-joy, then the tree is her mom's. Sharon Cartwright instantly launches into a description of every ornament on the tree—well, practically every ornament. They all have a history and story behind them, chronicling the years of her parents' marriage and Micheal and Sarah's childhoods, and her mom loves to relay some of those stories to anyone and everyone who comments on the tree.
Sarah sinks down into the couch beside Josie. It's like she's heard this entire conversation before—she and her dad even share a rare look of comradery at being forced to sit through it one more time—but she chimes in where she's expected to, pleased that Josie is being her typical charming self and making appropriate comments that make her mother smile.
The conversation about the Christmas decor naturally wraps up with her mother asking, "So, Josie, are your parents upset that you won't be spending Christmas with them?"
It's said in a mostly casual way, and Sarah wonders if she's only imagining the tiny trace of disapproval in her mother's voice. It had been the first thing that she'd asked when Sarah had mentioned maybe bringing Josie home—shouldn't she spend the holidays with her own family?— and it had been clear that, even though Sharon wanted to meet her daughter's girlfriend, over Christmas maybe wasn't the time she would have preferred.
"We spent Thanksgiving there, so they're fine with it," Josie answers, glancing at Sarah with a warm smile. Convincing her to go back to Boston last month had been much easier than it had been in July. "We'll probably drive up next weekend to celebrate a belated Christmas over New Year's weekend."
Sharon nods slowly, and Sarah can see her mother processing the we part of that statement. It's not like she didn't know that Sarah had spent Thanksgiving with Josie's family, but Sarah hadn't mentioned their tentative New Year's plans yet. She suspects her mother can tell just how serious this relationship is getting by the amount of time Sarah is willing to spend with Josie's family.
"So you have a car there in New York?" her dad asks, suddenly tuning in to the conversation.
"I do," Josie confirms with a nod.
"You keep it in a garage? Sarah says parking is a pain. I keep telling her she should get one anyway so she doesn't have to keep riding that subway."
"It's too expensive," Sarah mutters.
He points at Josie. "Your friend here seems to manage it."
Sarah bristles at his word choice, glancing at Josie to see her mild frown. She wants to remind him that Josie is her girlfriend but she knows that will just make everything weird—er. She also wants to tell him that Josie has the money to afford a car—which, really, he already knows. She hasn't told them how much money Josie's family actually has, but she'd told them that they're well off.
"Josie's apartment building has an attached garage. Mine doesn't. I'd be fighting for spaces on the street at home and at work. The subway is just easier."
Her dad huffs, and her mother sighs, sending a mildly apologetic look Josie's way. "He doesn't like her riding the subway," she explains. "He worries."
"I don't," he denies, looking uncomfortable. "Just think a car is more convenient. You can go where you want when you want."
"I generally agree," Josie offers amiably, "but with the traffic in Manhattan, sometimes the trains actually do get you there faster. And parking can get really expensive. Sarah's probably the smarter one of us," she says, glancing at her affectionately. " I mostly just use my car to visit my parents." And take Sarah out on dates and drive to the Hamptons and take her bicycle out to the nearby trailheads. "I take the subway to work too."
There's some brief conversation on Josie's work—where her firm is and what her hours are like. Sarah had already given her parents some background on Josie's specialty, so tonight's discussion doesn't go too in depth. There are still four days ahead of them in which her parents can find out everything they want to know about Sarah's girlfriend.
It's getting late, and the long day and travel really are catching up with her, even if it seems like Josie is wide awake. It takes about five yawns for her mother to finally notice and make a comment, and the conversation wraps up for the night.
After a brief tour of the downstairs—really, other than the living room, there's only a kitchen, a dining room, and a small bathroom—they head upstairs, where Sarah points out her parents' bedroom, her own, and the bathroom they'll be sharing before showing Josie to her temporary room. Her parents had cleaned it our years ago after Mike had moved out, turning it into a guest room, and the only remnants of his childhood are the model cars and airplanes that line some of the shelves. "I know it's not the Ritz," Sarah says by way of an apology.
"It's fine," Josie promises, slipping her arms around Sarah's waist. "All I need is a bed."
"Well, you'll be happy to know Mom and Dad bought a new mattress after Mike left, so you don't have to lie awake wondering what he used to do in that bed." She grimaces just thinking about it.
Josie frowns. "I wouldn't have. But now I will be, so thanks for that."
Sarah smiles apologetically. "Sorry."
Josie's lips curve, and she pulls Sarah closer. "I don't suppose I could sneak into your bed instead."
Sarah snorts. "God, no. My dad's a light sleeper. If he so much as hears your door open, he'll be up and doing a bed check." And then he'll get upset at being confronted with the visual evidence that his daughter is sleeping with a woman, and he'll yell, and her mom will cry, and Josie will probably never be welcome back here again.
Josie chuckles, clearly not believing her. "You're a grown woman."
"I'm serious, Jo. I warned you that my parents are very conservative when it comes to sex." They don't want their kids doing it under their roof and they don't want to hear about it happening anywhere else. "You said you'd be okay with separate rooms this weekend."
"And I am, even if I'll miss you," Josie says, placing a soft kiss on Sarah's lips.
Sighing, Sarah leans into her girlfriend. "I'll miss you too." It's not like they spend every night together. This is really no different than their typical work nights spent at their own apartments, but it somehow feels worse knowing that Josie will be just across the hall from her while she sleeps alone. "But we'll see each other tomorrow."
"What time are we expected to be up for breakfast?" Josie asks.
Sarah chuckles. "Whatever time we roll out of bed. My parents usually leave me to fend for myself for breakfast." She belatedly realizes how that might sound. "I mean, they always have plenty of food. I just have to make what I want for myself, so I guess I'll be making what you want too."
"Or I could cook for you," Josie offers with a grin.
"My house, my rules," Sarah argues good-naturedly.
"Your parents' house actually, and I'm their guest."
"Which means you're definitely not cooking," Sarah finishes.
Josie sighs, still smiling. "I like them. They seem nice."
Sarah's eyes widen in surprise. "Really?"
"Sarah," Josie chastises laughingly.
"No. I know my mom is nice." Usually, anyway. "But my dad?"
"He's quiet. Maybe a little gruff," Josie reasons with a shrug. "But they both obviously love you. What's not to like?"
Hearing that makes Sarah feel warm all over. "I think you made a good first impression on them," she offers, unmistakably relieved that the introductions had gone well. "They've both already talked to you more than they did Quinn." There might be hope for this trip to have a good outcome yet.
"Well, as much as I like Quinn, she can be a little…reserved at first introduction." Josie grins then. "Unless she has a few drinks in her."
Sarah laughs a little, fully aware that Josie's first meeting with Quinn had involved some drinking and some dancing and a kiss. "Or she's trying to pick up a woman," she supplies, recalling her own initial introduction to Quinn Fabray. Removed from the flirting though, Quinn had been slow to reveal very much about herself in those early days of their relationship. There were moments where she'd seemed more than a little aloof, and Sarah is well aware that that's the impression Quinn has on most people. That's something that can never be said about Jo, and Sarah is very happy about that.
"Don't worry. I'll have your parents offering to adopt me before this trip is over," Josie teases.
Sarah laughs again. "You know, I think you actually could."
Josie seems to take it as a challenge. "Just watch me."
And in fact, Sarah does.
Christmas Eve with her family typically consists of a fairly relaxing morning, with the exception of any last minute gift wrapping that might be needed (usually on her dad's part) and the occasional quick trip to the grocery store for something Mom forgot, followed by dinner and church.
Since Sarah had left for college, she'd been carving out time on her visits home to meet up with Hannah for an hour or two, whether it's lunch at the Blue Goose Cafe or just hanging out at her house. It goes without saying that Hannah is eager to meet Josie, so they'd made tentative plans to have lunch together the day after Christmas, which leaves Christmas Eve wide open.
She'd figured that she and Josie would probably just want to take it easy after traveling last night. Still, Sarah has a backup plan. If they really need to get away from her parents for awhile, she can beg to borrow her mom's car and drive them to the movie theater in Allegan. That will give them some alone time for a few hours.
As it turns out, she doesn't need to worry about the alone time. Josie continues right where she'd left off the night before with her mission to charm Sarah's parents. She's up early enough to offer to help Sharon with breakfast. She's denied, of course, because Sarah's mother is fairly stubborn about extending her hospitality, but the offer clearly doesn't go unappreciated, and Josie is invited to help decorate mom's sugar cookies after breakfast. Sarah hasn't had that much fun with the cookies since she was a kid.
Josie proceeds to stumble (probably orchestrated) into a discussion about sports with Henry Cartwright that definitely has him perking up. He grumbles about her being a Patriots fan, but when she admits that she's been rooting for the Jets since moving to New York (a calculated half-truth—she roots for the Jets except when they're playing the Patriots), he seems appeased. They have a much friendlier conversation about baseball, which is Josie's preferred sport anyway, during which Sarah and her mother are fairly bored out of their minds, but Sarah is happy (and more than a little surprised) to see her dad so talkative with her girlfriend.
It's during that (very long) sports discussion that Sarah escapes to the kitchen for a glass of cider—and possibly one of her mom's Christmas cookies. She's really not all that surprised when her mom follows her.
"Sarah Jane," her mother chastises, shaking her head when she catches Sarah mid-bite. "If you're going to be sneaking cookies between meals, the least you could do is offer some to our guest."
"She's busy," Sarah mumbles around the cookie. Her mother arches an eyebrow, and Sarah makes sure to swallow—chasing it with a drink—before speaking again. "I didn't want to interrupt their reenactment of Sports Center."
Her mom laughs at her joke—she always does. "It's still polite to offer." She lifts the lid on the cookie tin, and Sarah expects she's about to take them into the living room, but her mom only takes one for herself. She doesn't immediately bite into though, staring down thoughtfully at it instead. "Josie seems very sociable," she finally says after a long moment.
It's Sarah's turn to laugh—because that's something of an understatement. "Oh, she is. And there's really nothing artificial about her, you know? What you see out there," she gestures toward the living room where they can both still hear Josie talking with her dad, "that's just how she is."
Sharon nods as she looks up at Sarah, meeting her eyes. "Is she good to you?" she finally asks, somehow managing to sound both hopeful and worried. Her mother is a worrier by nature. That's where Sarah gets it from.
Sarah sets the rest of her cookie down on the counter and smiles reassuringly at her mother. "She is. Really good."
"Good," her mom says, giving another firm nod. "That's all that really matters. And your father seems to like her."
Sarah smiles wryly. "You mean he likes that she can talk about sports with him."
Her mom chuckles. "That certainly doesn't hurt."
Sharon takes a bite of her cookie then, looking more relaxed, and Sarah works up the nerve to ask, "Do...do you like her?"
It's her mother's opinion that really matters to her. She wants her dad to like Josie, yeah, but he's always been harder to talk to and generally grumpy in nature. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between people Henry Cartwright likes and the people he doesn't. Sarah thinks she could deal with it if he only tolerates her girlfriend for her sake, but she knows it will be much harder to accept if her mom doesn't approve.
Sharon's expression goes soft, and she puts her cookie aside, reaching out to squeeze Sarah's arm in reassurance. "I do," she promises with a tender smile. "She's very polite, and she seems much more comfortable here than that Quinn was." It's true. Quinn's visit had been filled with awkward silences and veiled judgments. "And she's certainly easy to talk to," her mother adds, obviously pleased by that.
It's such a relief. "I'm glad you like her, Mom."
Sharon lifts her hand to stroke Sarah's hair. "I just want you to be happy, sweetheart."
"I am," Sarah assures her. "So happy."
Josie makes her happy, and she's starting to believe that could be a permanent thing.
When she and her mother slip back into the living room, Sarah sinks down next to Josie—and lord, they're still talking about sports (hockey now), but she isn't going to complain—and thinks bringing her home is actually turning out to be a pretty good thing.
It's around two o'clock when Sarah's mom discovers that her lettuce is wilted and the predictable discussion ensues between her and Sarah's dad in which Mom insists on running to the store and Dad insists the wilted lettuce is fine and they're not going near the grocery store on Christmas Eve. Also predictably, her dad loses this discussion.
"Josie and I can run to the store," Sarah offers, thinking it might be nice to get out of the house for a little bit. She's warming up to the idea of showing Jo the rest of Fennville, however small it may be, and thinks this would be a good opportunity.
"No. You two stay here and relax," her mom insists. "Your father and I will go. I might want to pick up some more cranberries for tomorrow anyway, and maybe a pie."
Her dad throws his hands up in the air. "Of course you do. It's not like we went shopping yesterday."
Sharon frowns at him. "Well, I'll just go myself then. You can stay here and entertain the girls."
With a huff, Henry gets up off his chair. "You'll take twice as long without me."
And just like that, Sarah and Josie end up left alone in the house for an undetermined amount of time.
"How long do you think they'll be gone?" Josie asks slyly, inching closer to Sarah on the couch.
Sarah knows what she's hinting at, and she can't say she isn't tempted, but, "If my dad has his way, they'll be back in about forty minutes."
Josie grins. "And if you mom has her way?"
"Closer to an hour and a half," Sarah guesses, already knowing Mom will be the one to get her way. She does tend to linger over coupons and sales. "She'll definitely want to be home by four so she can start dinner."
Josie slides even closer, already reaching for Sarah. "That's plenty of time."
Laughing, Sarah puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her progress. "I'm not defiling my parents couch with you, Jo. We'll undo all that progress you've made at charming them."
Josie's sexy smirk doesn't waver in the least. "You have a bedroom upstairs."
"That I'm also not defiling."
That successfully erases the smirk, and an adorable pout appears on her face instead. "Not even a little bit?" she whines, tracing a finger over Sarah's jean-clad thigh. "Not even to make out like the naughty teenager you never got to be?" And then her lips are trailing kisses across Sarah's jawline, and it's all so very tempting. Just the thought of sneaking a girl into her childhood room is way more arousing than it should be, strictly speaking.
"You're a really bad influence on me, you know?" she murmurs, tipping her head as she sinks her fingers into Josie's hair.
"Is that a yes?" Josie coaxes, pulling back to gaze at her with sparkling eyes and an irresistible grin.
Sarah silently debates with herself for all of thirty seconds. "We'll call it another Christmas present," she finally relents, giving into the buzz of arousal that Josie is so good at evoking and the excitement of being wanted by her..
Smiling, Josie asks her, "For you or for me?"
"Both."
Sarah tugs her girlfriend in for a heated kiss. They have maybe an hour tops before her parents come home, and Sarah is determined to take full advantage of breaking this one particular rule. Maybe the Christmas spirits will even let her get away with it without getting caught.
All she knows is that her holiday looks to be getting merrier by the minute, and it's all thanks to the woman in arms.