Charlie’s cousin Sheila lives in an old Victorian house in Brooklyn. Sky admires the color choice for the house as they walk up the street. Sheila’s place is painted in a light periwinkle with light ivory shades hanging at the edges of windows edged in black. The cement stairs are topped by intricate wood carvings that hover above the porch, and a hefty bronze light fixture hangs in front of the French door creating a warm glow that becomes stronger against the setting sun.
Sky takes a deep breath against the pressure in her chest. She is meeting Charlie’s family for the first time. The fact that she has heard stories about these people does not ease the tension building in her neck muscles. To be the new lesbian girlfriend at a family party is the equivalent of a police interrogation. Sky has never taken kindly to being observed by strangers. That is, unless the stranger is a woman of interest.
Before Charlie’s foot hits the bottom stair of the porch Sky grabs her arm and says, “I must like you an awful lot if I’m subjecting myself to a family function.”
Charlie responds to Sky with tenderness and recognition, “They’re not that bad. Just think, you don’t have to worry about genetic ties or endure the endless ramblings of Uncle Billy on a regular basis.” Charlie’s humorous approach and her kind eyes force Sky to relax a little.
Charlie leads Sky up the stairs to sure death with the cool stride of familiarity.
Sheila opens the door with a grin that looks as though it has been stapled to her face. “Merry Christmas, Lenore, Merry Christmas…Um, Sky. May I take your coats?” Sheila takes their coats and scurries off to throw them in the pile on the small table next to the stairs in the dining room.
Sky smiles when she hears Charlie’s Christian name. Lenore Emily Charles. The name is especially beautiful to Sky because she has always been a fan of Edgar Allen Poe. Lenore is the inspiration of poetry and the lingering guilt of a tortured man. It all seems to fit right in with Sky’s perception of love. Therefore, Charlie symbolizes the eternal longing of Sky’s soul. The quest to ache for someone so badly that even death cannot break the bond.
Sky has been a writer since she learned how to put words together. Even in grade school Sky had the ability to spin a yarn out of thin air for her family, friends, and classmates. She became a storyteller at a young age, but did not become a real writer until she had tasted the pain of life.
Sky reflects on this thought for a moment. Perhaps a moment too long. Pictures of her father surface in her mind, and Sky politely forces those remembrances far enough back to be respectful and to maintain her party face. Her next thought is, “Yep, every suffering poet needs a Lenore to create checks and balances.”
Charlie looks over at Sky in the middle of that thought as if she can read her mind, “I know, I know, my name is Lenore. You probably love the irony in that!”
Sky smiles and says, “I absolutely love that your name is Lenore, but it has nothing to do with irony.”
The house is alive with twinkling holiday decorations and chatter from people connected by a bloodline.
Two young children are wrestling over a plastic chair in the living room, and the aroma of baking cookies lingers in the air. Sky’s shoulder’s loosen slightly when Sheila’s husband Mike shakes her hand and asks, “You wanna go outside for a smoke? All this togetherness makes me claustrophobic. How about you?”
Sky smiles at the human contact from a fellow bah humbug. Then she glances over at Charlie and says, “How about it Lenore, may I partake in nicotine festivities with your kindly cousin?”
Charlie nods at Sky with a grin fit for a small reptile and whispers through her gritting teeth, “Please don’t call me Lenore.”
Sky winks at Charlie as she slips backwards through the front door, “Okay Lenore, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Charlie can’t help but smile at Sky’s obvious dig. When the door closes Charlie whispers to herself, “What a pain in the ass! Now I’ll be referred to as Lenore in public. Ugh.”
When Sky returns to the warmth of the dining room Charlie is seated at the kitchen table talking with her Aunt Peggy about another relative’s scandalous relationship with a married woman. Sky approaches the table with the innocence of a polite eave’s dropper. Charlie stands to introduce her aunt to her new girlfriend with a casual stance. As though Aunt Peggy will be delighted to meet Charlie’s date. The sight of this woman before her catches Sky like a deer in headlights. Aunt Peggy has a huge pouf of chestnut colored hair surrounding a wrinkled face and oversized clip-on earrings. Her eyelids are coated in a thick blue layer of eye shadow that looks as though it has been applied with a putty knife. Sky breaks with the absurdity of her staring and says, “Merry Christmas. It is very nice to meet you, I hear that you make wonderful Christmas cookies. That was part of the draw for me.”