Oh Sweetie

“Oh Sweetie!”

I try to wipe the tears from my eyes as Aunt Patricia comes over and sits next to me on my bed.

“It’s your birthday today. Why are you crying? What happened? Tell me about it and you’ll feel better.”

I look into caring eyes. Right now, I feel like she’s the only support I have. “Jon asked Ali to the Valentine’s Day dance.” I’m sobbing again. I’d forgotten it was my birthday.

“There, there.” She puts her arm around me and pulls my head against her shoulder. She lets me cry for a while, just holding me.

When the tears are slowing, she asks, “I didn’t think you were that interested in Jon?”

I pick up my head and look at her kind face. “I’m not really. But he’s my only friend who’s a boy. I was hoping he would take my hints that I wanted to go. Now no one’s going to ask me. So I won’t go to Senior Prom either.”

I can feel the tears welling up again, now about staying home for senior prom.

She kisses me on the forehead, wipes the tears off my cheeks, then says, “It sounds like you didn’t really want to go with Jon. You just wanted to go. Is there anyone you’d actually want to go to the dance with? This is the dance where everyone has to kiss at one point, right?”

I nod. “I don’t really like any of the guys other than Jon. I have no interest in kissing him. I think there might be something wrong with me.”

She looks at me oddly for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Could I actually tell her? Can I say what I’m feeling out loud? I’m not sure I even believe it.

“Why don’t I shut the door while we talk,” she says, stepping over to the door and gently pushing it closed.

This time, she sits a little farther away from me on the bed. We look at each other. All i see in her face is care and concern for me. No judgement. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

Opening them again, I look at her. “You promise not to tell Dad this, right?”

She laughs softly. I look at her uncomfortably. “Sorry. Your father and I don’t exactly have heart to heart talks. He’s not happy I’m here at all. If he could take care of Shelly during her chemo, I wouldn’t be welcomed here. Why do you think I don’t visit my favorite niece more often?”

“I thought you were too busy to come visit. That’s what he always says.”

“Sweetie, you’re always on my mind. You’re the daughter I’ll never have. But you’re not happy right now and I want to help you come to terms with whatever you’re dealing with. Is there anyone you’d like to kiss?”

I don’t think I can say this. Not even to Aunt Patricia. I close my eyes and I see her. Not Patricia. Naomi. I can feel tears welling up.

“It’s okay, Natalie. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I won’t judge you no matter what you tell me. You’ll be my Natalie after this, just as you are now.”

“Naomi.” I spit out the name so quickly that I hoped she wouldn’t hear it.

I look at my Aunt. She isn’t looking at me with disgust. She has a slight smile on her face. I can feel some stress draining out of me.

“Why don’t you tell me about Naomi? Is she beautiful? Is she nice?”

“Oh, she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. She’s taller than me, with long black hair. Every move she makes is so graceful. She has long legs and long arms. Her voice is like music to my ears. I could listen to her talk forever. Her laughter is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

“She sounds wonderful. Have you talked to her much?”

“I sit with her at lunch most days. Lots of people won’t sit with her. Is it a sin for me to think about kissing her? Am I going to Hell now?” I start to cry.

“Oh, Sweetie, look at me.”

I pick my head up and look into her eyes. She puts a hand on each of my shoulders.

“Some people say things like that. They’re wrong. The God I believe in is full of love. Love between people is always beautiful. Your father believes that crap. Damn him! Damn what he’s done to you.” She shakes her head.

“You really don’t think I’m damned?”

“No Natalie, you’re not. They’ve kept you so isolated. I need to tell you about Sam.”

“Your husband? Why haven’t you ever brought him? Are you embarrassed of us? Of him? That’s what Dad says.”

She smiles. “Sam is my wife. Samantha. That’s been the deal for me to be allowed to see you. I can only call her Sam around you. I could never let you know. But you’re 18 now and to hell with him.”

“You’re a lesbian?” I instinctively recoil at the word, pulling back from her hands.

“Yes, your Aunt Patricia is a lesbian. I always have been as far as I can remember.”

“Are you going to rape me or something now? Whatever you types do?”

“I’m not going to rape you Natalie. Any more than you have to worry about your father assaulting you.”

She pulls back for a moment then looks at me oddly. “He doesn’t, does he?”

“God, no. He’s normal. He’s not a pervert.” I’m shocked at her question.

“But now you think I’m a pervert. Do I look like a pervert to you?”

“I don’t know what to think. Reverend Kirk certainly says lesbians are all perverted deviants. Them and the trans people trying to seduce kids.”

“Ask your heart what you believe. Do I seem like a pervert?”

“I don’t know what I believe. I think you should probably leave my room now.”

I lay my head down on the bed and cry. Patricia lets herself out of my room, shutting the door behind her.

When I come down for dinner a few hours later, my mom is already sitting at the dining room table. She looks so frail right now. And she’s lost most of her hair.

“Mom! I didn’t expect you to come down for dinner. Is everything okay? Can I come hug you?”

“Of course you can hug me, but be gentle. I’m a little achy. I just wanted to have dinner with my daughter on her eighteenth birthday. Is that alright?”

I rush over and gently hug her, then give her a kiss on her forehead. I’m grinning from ear to ear. “It’s more than alright, Mom. Thank you. This is one of my favorite birthday presents I’ve ever gotten.”

I holler into the kitchen, “Aunt Patricia? Is it okay if I steal your usual chair so I can sit next to Mom during dinner.”

“Of course it is, Sweetie.” She steps out of the kitchen, carrying a pot roast on a platter. My favorite food my mom used to cook for me. I look at my aunt with surprise.

“Your mom told me this is what she would have made you if she was up to cooking. I know the recipe well. It’s your Nana’s recipe. I grew up with it too. It’s normal food to me.”

I think she put a slight emphasis on the word ‘normal’. I look at her and can’t see a pervert. She still looks like my caring aunt that I have known all my life. She’s Mom’s only sibling. She always seemed so much more fun and whimsical than any of Dad’s family, who always seem a bit too uptight about everything. More than a bit. Aunt Patricia has always been easier for me to talk to than anyone else.

Well except Mom for a long time. But she and I had a bunch of fights for a couple of years. Some of my friends had pretty similar fights with their moms, so I guess it’s pretty normal mother-daughter squabbling. But then the cancer. This round of chemo has been so hard on her. Dad has to work, so he let Patricia come to help. I’ve never really seen her for more than an afternoon at a time for the last several years. Mom and Dad had a huge fight shortly before her wedding and Mom ended up going alone. Patricia has been too busy to visit very often since then.

I smile to myself with the realization of what that fight was about and that she wasn’t too busy to come. They lied to me. He lied to me. Isn’t lying a sin?

“Are you okay today Natalie? You look agitated. And I thought I heard crying from your room after you got home,” my mom asks, sounding concerned.

“I’m okay, Mom. I’d been hoping Jon was going to ask me to the dance next month, but he asked Ali to it. Aunt Patricia kept me company and now I feel much better about lots of things. I hate why she’s here, but I’m so glad she’s been able to stay with us.”

I turn and smile at Patricia.

She smiles back and gently pats my arm with her hand.

“I know I’m glad my baby sister is here to help take care of me,” Mom says. “And it makes me happy to see the two of you getting time together. It frustrated me that this hasn’t been possible more often. We shouldn’t wait for sickness to get together with family.”

I put my hand on Mom’s arm. Then I wonder. Does she know about me?

Before I can wonder too much, I hear the front door opening and Dad’s booming voice. “Sorry I’m late. Did I miss dinner tonight?”

“We were just about to eat, Carl,” my mom says.

The unexpected voice startles him, as he says, “What are you doing down here, Michelle?”

“I wanted to have dinner with my daughter on her eighteenth birthday.”

He looks momentarily surprised. He forgot my birthday. But he recovers quickly. “And how is my baby on her birthday? Or should I say my young woman, now that you’re officially an adult. It’s good to have all three of us together for dinner for a change.” He looks at Aunt Patricia’s back, her hand on my arm. “And Patricia.” But his voice has more than a bit of disgust in it for that last sentence.

I bite my tongue, saying nothing, but sigh over that last bit. Patricia pats my arm and pulls her hand back. He couldn’t have made my decision between their two world views any easier if he’d tried.

“Natalie, your party with your friends is Saturday, right?” Mom asks. I think she’s trying to defuse some obvious tension in the air.

I nod. “Yeah, five of us are going for pizza at two at Sal’s.” I look at Patricia. “Could you stay here on Saturday and come with us? I’d love to have you meet everyone.”

Dad shuffles uncomfortably in his chair. I ignore him, looking hopefully at my aunt.

“I really should go home and make sure Sam’s surviving without me. Who’s coming?”

“Amy, Britany, Jamie. And Naomi.” I stress that last one. I’m almost pleading.

“Let me chat with Sam to see if it’s okay if I come home Saturday afternoon rather than Friday evening.”

I can hear my father grumble. Then he says, “No boys? Your mother was already dating me by the time she was eighteen. When are you going to get yourself a boyfriend?”

“Carl, don’t,” Mom scolds him. “Not tonight.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I guess they just don’t make them like you anymore, Dad. Of course, no boys today got to see dinosaurs. Or had to walk to school in the snow everyday. Up hill both ways.” Everyone laughs, including Dad.

“Maybe I’ll have more luck with my love life in college,” I add while everyone else is still laughing. College is still a touchy subject.

My father stops laughing immediately. “I don’t think we’ve decided that you’re going yet.”

“I’ve decided I am. I’m an adult now. You just said so. It’s my decision. I want to be a writer and that means going to college.”

“Have fun paying for it yourself!” he shouts. He looks at Patricia and seems about to say something, but decides to walk out of the room instead. My mother starts crying.

“I’m sorry, Mom. You made the effort to come down. The two of us should have behaved better.”

“It’s okay, dear. It’s not your fault.”

We sit in silence for several minutes as we finish our dinners. It really was good. And exactly the way my mom makes it. I guess it makes sense, since they both learned to cook from Nana.

“I made a cake too. Does everyone want a slice?”

I smile at Aunt Patricia. I want to cry. Not sure if the tears would be from my sorrow or from my joy at having her here.

She winks at me with a smile and then disappears into the kitchen. She reappears with a cake with eighteen candles on it. She and Mom start singing happy birthday to me. I do start crying, but they’re definitely tears of joy right now.

Patricia cuts three slices. A very small one for my mother and a kind of big one for me. It’s delicious.

“It looks like she made plenty if you want to bring everyone over after your party for a piece of cake. I’d love to meet your friends. I think I only know Amy and Jamie.”

“Thank you, Mom. I’ll see if they’re willing to come over,”

“Should I bring a present on Saturday?” Aunt Patricia asks.

“You don’t have to, but I think the other girls will. Just coming is enough of a present for me.”

“Just a second,” she says as she disappears back into the kitchen. She re-emerges with a huge pile of wrapped presents.

“Well, your mom and I managed to get you eighteen presents for your birthday this year, assuming either of us can count. I set one of them aside for your party.”

“These are from Dad, too. He’s just been so busy, we both let Patricia do all the leg work for us.”

I notice Patricia roll her eyes. I don’t care. This is turning into my best birthday I can remember.

I open up one package after another. Mostly it’s pretty easy to tell which ones my mother picked and which ones Patricia chose for me. I get fuzzy socks and some cool leggings (probably from Patricia) and a Hello Kitty sweatshirt and a bunch of other clothes. A beautiful pen and pencil set, definitely from Aunt Patricia. And a kindle. And an amazon gift card to buy books for it. And a few physical books. I know those were from Patricia. Since I can remember, she’s given me books every single year for my birthday. Usually they’ve been coming in the mail already wrapped.

“It’s still important to feel paper in your hands every once in a while. There’s one more you haven’t opened.”

Even before I open it, I can tell it’s a small book. I rip the paper off quickly. It’s a copy of Strunk and White. I recognize it right away because my English teacher always has a copy on her desk. The teacher that’s been encouraging me to write.

“Every writer needs a copy of Strunk and White.”

I go over and give her a big hug. I look over at Mom and say, “Thanks both of you. This turned into my favorite birthday I can remember.” I wipe the tears off from my cheeks.

“Why don’t you help your mother back up to bed while I clean up down here.”