trying not to look too sympathetic. She remembered when her own
relationship was beginning to crumble, how helpless she'd felt and how much she didn 't
want people looking at her like they felt sorry for her. "Here." She offered the club chair she'd been occupying. Molly took a seat gratefully and set to work on her string of
cranberries.
Amy stood with her arms around Jo's waist, admiring the tree. "You're very creative, I
must admit. I've never seen anything quite like...this."
"Only the best for my woman," Jo said, squeezing her. "I think we should have a lesbian tree every year."
"Let's not get carried away."
SOPHIE
S
ophie Wilson was doing okay. She was doing better than she'd expected, certainly. Only
five more days, she'd been telling herself. Only five more days and I'll be home free. She
had expected the holidays to be hard. It was true that Kelly had been gone for close to six
months, but being alone for the holidays brought everything back in a rush and she felt like
Kelly had only left her last week. She just had to get through New Year's Eve—which she
suspected was going to be the hardest of the cluster of days focused on togetherness and
love—and she'd be ready to move forward with her life.
She tended to oscillate between bitter and angry, and hurt and heartbroken. Neither side
was preferable. Bitter and angry at least kept her from crying constantly, but it was
exhausting to hate everybody and everything all the time. And it wasn't her; she wasn't
like that. Bitter and angry didn't become her. Hurt and heartbroken was harder. She
didn't like feeling vulnerable or allowing her emotions that close to the surface. She didn't like that people could take one quick glance her way and know she'd been destroyed by
somebody she loved and trusted. Hurt and heartbroken sucked. Mostly, she'd thrown
herself into her work. It had been the only thing that kept her sane. Ironically, she was
getting more freelance graphic business now than she'd gotten in the five years she'd been
offering her services. Life was so weird.
Leaning against the front door and surveying the group around her, she recognized the
expression on Molly's face, knew it too well from seeing it in the mirror every morning for
three, months before Kelly finally dropped her bomb. It was the expression of confusion,
of loss of control, of I'm worried my life is about to fall apart and there isn 't a damn
thing I can do to stop it.
Part of her wanted to help, wanted to take Molly aside and fill her in on the dark and dirty
details of what might come. But she didn't know Molly, and she didn't know anything about
her relationship with her partner. She could be totally off base. And the truth was, Sophie
didn't want to rehash her own experience, not this soon. She was afraid doing so might
send her into a tailspin, a backward slide. She'd worked too hard to claw her way up from
the depths of destruction and depression. You couldn't pay her enough to skid back down
even a few feet. The very thought terrified her.
Only five more days...
A knock on the door startled her, vibrating through her shoulder, and she jerked away.
Amy looked up from the counter in the kitchen where she was fil ing wineglasses with the
deep red selection from the shelves Jo had built in the basement. "That's Laura. Would
you let her in, Soph?"
Nodding, Sophie opened the front door to a smiling blonde with the dimples of a six-year-
old.
"Hi," the new guest said in a voice not at all childish, but surprisingly robust. "I'm Laura Baker."
Sophie stepped aside and let the shorter woman in. "I'm Sophie." She waited for Laura to set down her bag, then shook hands with her. Laura's was cool and soft. "Sophie Wilson."
"We've met, haven't we?" Laura asked.
"Probably at one of their parties."
Laura studied her, not releasing her hand. "Or maybe at Amy's restaurant?"
Sophie surprised herself by not pulling away. These days she flinched at the touch
relationship was beginning to crumble, how helpless she'd felt and how much she didn 't
want people looking at her like they felt sorry for her. "Here." She offered the club chair she'd been occupying. Molly took a seat gratefully and set to work on her string of
cranberries.
Amy stood with her arms around Jo's waist, admiring the tree. "You're very creative, I
must admit. I've never seen anything quite like...this."
"Only the best for my woman," Jo said, squeezing her. "I think we should have a lesbian tree every year."
"Let's not get carried away."
SOPHIE
S
ophie Wilson was doing okay. She was doing better than she'd expected, certainly. Only
five more days, she'd been telling herself. Only five more days and I'll be home free. She
had expected the holidays to be hard. It was true that Kelly had been gone for close to six
months, but being alone for the holidays brought everything back in a rush and she felt like
Kelly had only left her last week. She just had to get through New Year's Eve—which she
suspected was going to be the hardest of the cluster of days focused on togetherness and
love—and she'd be ready to move forward with her life.
She tended to oscillate between bitter and angry, and hurt and heartbroken. Neither side
was preferable. Bitter and angry at least kept her from crying constantly, but it was
exhausting to hate everybody and everything all the time. And it wasn't her; she wasn't
like that. Bitter and angry didn't become her. Hurt and heartbroken was harder. She
didn't like feeling vulnerable or allowing her emotions that close to the surface. She didn't like that people could take one quick glance her way and know she'd been destroyed by
somebody she loved and trusted. Hurt and heartbroken sucked. Mostly, she'd thrown
herself into her work. It had been the only thing that kept her sane. Ironically, she was
getting more freelance graphic business now than she'd gotten in the five years she'd been
offering her services. Life was so weird.
Leaning against the front door and surveying the group around her, she recognized the
expression on Molly's face, knew it too well from seeing it in the mirror every morning for
three, months before Kelly finally dropped her bomb. It was the expression of confusion,
of loss of control, of I'm worried my life is about to fall apart and there isn 't a damn
thing I can do to stop it.
Part of her wanted to help, wanted to take Molly aside and fill her in on the dark and dirty
details of what might come. But she didn't know Molly, and she didn't know anything about
her relationship with her partner. She could be totally off base. And the truth was, Sophie
didn't want to rehash her own experience, not this soon. She was afraid doing so might
send her into a tailspin, a backward slide. She'd worked too hard to claw her way up from
the depths of destruction and depression. You couldn't pay her enough to skid back down
even a few feet. The very thought terrified her.
Only five more days...
A knock on the door startled her, vibrating through her shoulder, and she jerked away.
Amy looked up from the counter in the kitchen where she was fil ing wineglasses with the
deep red selection from the shelves Jo had built in the basement. "That's Laura. Would
you let her in, Soph?"
Nodding, Sophie opened the front door to a smiling blonde with the dimples of a six-year-
old.
"Hi," the new guest said in a voice not at all childish, but surprisingly robust. "I'm Laura Baker."
Sophie stepped aside and let the shorter woman in. "I'm Sophie." She waited for Laura to set down her bag, then shook hands with her. Laura's was cool and soft. "Sophie Wilson."
"We've met, haven't we?" Laura asked.
"Probably at one of their parties."
Laura studied her, not releasing her hand. "Or maybe at Amy's restaurant?"
Sophie surprised herself by not pulling away. These days she flinched at the touch
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