Page 5 of Christmas Sunrise
"Wait," Maeve says as the coffee machine clicks off. "I'll come with you."
"No snooping!" Cynthia points a knife at her daughter.
Maeve tsks. "As if. I'm not Marty, you know."
Once inside the dining room, I spend a brief moment looking lovingly at the set-up Cynthia has here. An array of festive wrapping paper with rolls of red, green, or gold ribbon for an extra touch, and matching labels for handwritten messages. A pang of something sour dampens my smile when I think about how much I want to be the mother of a family like this, how much I want to spend the days before Christmas making a day magical for a family. The rational part of my brain is quick to remind myself that that's still exactly what I'm doing this year by hosting everyone, but I am just as prompt to follow it up with the very firm thought that it's not the same. Recently, I've been very over-indulgent at reminding myself what I'm missing, what Marty and I are both missing, and I can't seem to stop it.
"You okay?" Maeve gives me a strange look as she sits down.
"Yeah, miles away," I set the bag down and go about getting what I need to wrap up Marty's gift, grateful for the distraction.
"Care to share?" Maeve asks and it doesn't completely surprise me. We've grown quite close in the last year or so despite her being out of the country and away from her city centre apartment often. A lot of this new closeness has to do with how she opened up to me a few months ago about questioning her sexuality. We haven't talked about it much recently and I have been hoping for an opportunity to check in with her about it. This moment seems the best one I've had for a while, and furthermore, it will help keep my mind off that pang of missing something I don't yet have. Something I may never have.
"Just thinking how nice it is that we'll all be together for Christmas. We've missed you these last few months."
Maeve waves a hand around flippantly. "Yeah, it's been a ridiculous end of the year. I can't remember the last time I was in my own flat for more than two nights in a row."
"That must be very unsettling."
"It is, but I still love the work, you know, so I feel like I can't complain."
"You can always complain to me." I give her a steady look before going back to cutting a piece of wrapping paper. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you about how you're doing, with regard to the things we talked about the last few times I saw you."
"You mean about whether I'm a lesbian or not?" Maeve says in a low, level voice.
"I believe you didn't label it back then but if that's where you're at, then I'm happy for you." I put the scissors down so I can give her my full attention.
She gives me another dismissive wave. "Nah, that's not what I'm saying and that's not what I think I am. I still don't really know what I am."
"Also completely okay, and normal."
"Is it? It doesn't feel very normal. It feels completelyabnormal. I mean, look at me. I'm twenty-six and I've never had a relationship that lasted longer than six months. And I don't really know why that is.Me asking myself if it's because I prefer women to men just feels like a logical way to explain it."
"Well, you know there are other ways to explain it."
"Like what?" Her eyes widen.
I give Maeve a measuring glance. "There is no manual on how or when one should experience romantic relationships."
"Ha, I wouldn't really call any of my 'relationships' romantic."
"How would you describe them?"
"Like I had nothing better to do," she replies quickly and easily. "Like they were what’s expected of me. "
"And they were all with men," I say, wanting to clarify.
"Yeah, and honestly." Maeve glances at the door which is slightly ajar. She speaks again with a lowered voice, "The sex was shite. Like a wake-me-up-when-it’s-over shitemare."
"I'm sorry, Maeve, I had no—"
"It's fine," she says quickly. "It's not a big deal. I sort of see it now as a sign that men don't really do it for me, which is, you know why I'm starting to think about women. And also..."
When Maeve's voice trails off, I wait a moment for her to pick up her thought again, which she does eventually, her eyes snapping back to mine.
"Recently, there's also someone who I've been thinking about... differently."
"A woman?"
