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“Alexander Gabriel Claremont Diaz! This is the most completely inappropriate use of mistletoe I have ever seen!”
Zahra waves her arms around at the numerous pieces of mistletoe in the West Sitting Hall. Mistletoe hangs from coat hangers, light fixtures, paintings, and from every other elevated surface imaginable. “How many pieces of mistletoe are there?”
“I lost count at thirty.” Alex gives her an effortless shrug, the kind that made him so popular with the voters. “I’m decking the halls.”
“The halls. The bedrooms. The dining room. Even the goddamn kitchen. Did you have to cover the entire Residence in mistletoe? As if you need an excuse to snog your royal boyfriend.”
“Snog? Shaan’s rubbing off on you.” Nora reaches for a cracker off the charcuterie board on the coffee table.
Alex swats her hand. “Those are for when Henry gets here.”
“I’ll leave him some.” She sticks out her tongue.
Zahra pulls a piece of mistletoe down from the ceiling. “When Leo sees this, he’s going to flip his lid! He spent weeks agonizing over the Christmas decorations!”
“If Leo was going to flip his lid about anything, it would be Mom booking Jefferson Starship for the inauguration.” Alex picks up the mistletoe, brushing it off. “And this masterpiece? I didn’t spend a dime of taxpayer money on it.”
Zahra continues to rant, and Alex continues to be nonplussed. Nora watches them with She’s been watching with amusement, legs up on the couch, as she scrolls through Twitter. She’s come back early from Montpelier to spend time with her favorite people. Their days as the White House Trio are coming to an end. They’re splitting into thirds. Alex is moving to New York after the inauguration. He’s already taken everything off the walls of his room, one foot out the door. Nora’s starting grad school in the fall. Her acceptance letter to the University of Rochester arrived a week ago. The hard copy is still on her kitchen table. They’ll text and see each other now and then, but no more casual drop-ins, no more drunken West Wing marathons, no more 2 am policy discussions. Her parents understand, even if they’re a little disappointed.
Plus, by coming back early, she avoided sitting through yet another family dinner with Bernie Sanders.
“June!” Zahra exclaims as the First Daughter walks through the door. “Did you know your brother was going to do this?”
“Yep,” she says.
“And you didn’t stop him?” The vocal cords pop in Zahra’s neck. Nora swears she’s aged five years since Alex’s public outing.
“I like it,” As June speaks, her gaze falls on Nora. Something familiar, but all too unwanted, sparks in her, and Nora goes back to her phone to avoid giving away anything.
She’s been in love with June for years. She can’t pinpoint the exact moment, it happened gradually, like the sky lightening at sunrise. So she consoles herself with having June as her best friend and hides herself among logistic regression and greedy algorithms, and she can’t even look at somebody else besides June, and she tells herself it’s fine, really, really fine. And she jokes about it. She’s cool, she’s one of the gang. But lately, June’s been….well not flirting, exactly. That comment about how both her boobs were good. But that’s what straight girls do. She’d learned that the hard way, years ago. If she had a dollar for every time a straight girl wanted her for a sloppy drunken makeout session, she could have financed the Claremont-Holleran re-election campaign herself.
She thinks of all the thousands of interactions she’s had with June. The road trips and parties and talking late into the night and making fun of Alex, both in and out of his presence, and how her shiny dark hair flows around her shoulders and those bright, glorious eyes she could stare into for hours. Every whispered secret, every shared laugh. She’s also watched June flirt with men, date, spill the details to her later, to Nora’s polite smiles and nods.
Chances of June not being entirely straight: two percent.
Nora’s certain there’s nothing more between them, as much as she’d like there to be. And even if she wasn’t, Nora has no idea how to broach the subject. Feelings aren’t her strong suit, much to the chagrin of her parents. Sometimes she thinks this is her way of rebelling against Mom and Dad, the touchy-feely types. How many chakra alignments and aura cleansings had she been subjected to as a kid?
Zahra interrupts her thoughts. “The press will be here tomorrow morning for pictures of the official White House decorations. Take all the mistletoe down by then, or you’ll be eating Christmas dinner through a straw.” With a huff, she turns and leaves.
June moves Nora’s legs off the couch and plops down next to her. “I thought Henry was supposed to be here by now. How long does it take to get here from Brooklyn?” She’s wearing a green pencil skirt and red velvet slippers with bows on the toes that perfectly coordinate with her sweater. She looks perfect, as always.
“Should be in soon. He called saying he’d hit some traffic,” Alex says.
“Henry’s got a whole motorcade. He is traffic,” June says.
“Which gives me time to put the mistletoe back up.” Alex searches around. “Have you seen the step stool?”
“You should make Henry do that. He’s taller,” Nora says, and she and June laugh, a conspiratorial giggle between friends. Alex scowls at them. He considers it a personal offense that he's shorter than Henry. It’s so easy to be with June, talking and laughing, and she can be herself. Mostly.
“Did you hear back on that internship?” June asks her. A slight Texas drawl comes through, even though June’s worked since the first presidential campaign to suppress it. Where her mother uses her Southern charm like a chess piece, June keeps it under wraps. In her industry, it’s hard enough for her to be taken seriously as the president’s daughter.
“Nobody’s making decisions until after the first.” Nora shrugs. The internship at a DC think tank is mildly interesting, but mostly something to do before grad school.
“You’ll get it. You got a recommendation from Mom, how can they turn you down?” She pats Nora’s forearm. Her hand lingers, and as many times as this has happened before, Nora nearly forgets what they were talking about. “And if you don’t, I’ll find you something.”
“What, you’re going to get me a job?” she asks. “Do you need any statistical analysis for your book?”
“Not for a memoir,” June says. “But I’m making slow progress. Maybe I need a muse.”
“Professional muse.” Nora ponders. “Not the best use of my talents.”
“Depends on what the talents are.” June gives her a shy smile. It doesn’t escape Nora’s notice Alex has hung one of the many pieces of mistletoe right above the couch.
–
When they’re notified Henry has arrived, Alex runs to the door. He covers Henry’s eyes as he leads Henry into the Residence. When Henry sees what he’s done, he proclaims, “You magnificent bastardo,” and kisses him.
“Henry, you are not allowed around Dad unsupervised anymore.” June says as she hugs him.
“Senator Diaz values my astute opinions on current events,” Henry says. “How is the memoir coming?”
June punches his arm. “You should know better than to ask an author that question! How is Brooklyn’s newest and greatest shelter for queer homeless teens?”
“Fucked. Totally fucked.” Up close, Nora can see the faint circles under his eyes. “Been on site day and night. The building we’ve leased is a bloody mess. I’m surprised the kitchen hasn’t burst into flames from the shitty wiring. The contractors are already behind schedule. We may have to push back the opening date.”
“You mean you actually have to work? Poor thing.” Alex teases him.
“Still better than being at the palace with Phillip,” Henry says. “And Nora, congratulations, fellow future New Yorker! I trust we’ll be seeing a lot of you.”
“Do you even know where Rochester is? It’s like six hours away from you guys.” When she mentions it. June’s mouth draws into a tight line. She thinks of when she told June of her acceptance and how June’s face fell for a split second before congratulating her. She’ll miss me as a friend. Nora shoves away any thought of more. She will not allow herself to hope.
Henry shakes his head. “Your country is too bloody big.” Undoing the top button of his dress shirt, he leans back onto the couch with an arm around Alex’s shoulders. Nora can’t help but envy their ease with each other. “But for now, it’s time to relax.”
“Agreed. No more work or politics.” June opens up a bottle of wine, pouring four glasses halfway. She hands one to each of them.
They talk and laugh, and the mood is as joyous and festive as the tastefully decorated Christmas tree in the corner. Alex and Henry take full advantage of the mistletoe. White House staffers drop in to say hello and happy holidays. Nora suspects they’re curious about the prince. Ellen comes in on her way from a state dinner, heels dangling from one hand, to say hello and demand an explanation about the mistletoe. Even Zahra stops in again to show off pictures of her baby niece. A light buzz fills Nora from the wine and conversation and company
When the wine is gone, Alex opens another. Henry suggests they Zoom with Pez and Bea, and Nora gets her laptop.
“Pez!” Henry immediately starts in as soon as they connect. “We need to talk about the contractors. They didn’t show up again today.”
“We need to do no such thing. It’s 3 am, and it’s almost Christmas.” Pez has dyed his hair half pink, half blue, and it reminds Nora of cotton candy. “June, you’re looking lovely as always.”
“Thank you.” June gives him an appreciative but non-flirtatious one.
“I don’t know if Henry’s mentioned it, but I’ll be Stateside next week for the New Year’s party, and a few days afterward. He’s offered to show me around DC, but I’d much rather do it with a charming woman. Are you interested?” The hope in Pez’s expression is obvious.
“Sorry, no time.” June puts on her best apologetic expression. “It’s going to be a madhouse around here getting ready for the inauguration, and I haven’t started on Mom’s speech yet.”
Pez’s face falls, and Henry whispers something to Alex that Nora doesn’t catch. She’s sitting with something akin to relief, at the same time as sympathizing with Pez. You and me both. Before the conversation can go further, Alex cranks up the music.
“Did we not say no work and no politics?” Alex shouts, a glass of wine in hand. “It’s tiiiiiime for a transatlantic dance party!”
Henry shows off his horrible but improving dance moves, and they all laugh their heads off. Nora watches June, as always. Her hips and arms are fluid as she gets lost in the music, and she’s beautiful, even when she’s drenched in sweat. But there’s something different about her tonight. She’s more restrained, cautious. She’s barely had half a glass of wine, and normally, she’d be fully sloshed by now. June keeps looking in Nora’s direction, but when their eyes meet, she turns away, like she’s been caught. She knows June better than anyone, and something is on her mind, but what it is, she can’t tell.
By midnight, Alex is sprawled on the floor, hair tousled, insisting in a slurred voice the chestnut praline latte is the single malt whiskey of lattes, and they have to convince him otherwise. Henry takes that as his cue to haul Alex off to bed. And it’s just her and June, two-thirds of the White House Trio, next to each other on the couch. Normally she’d be at ease, but there’s something in the air, that makes it impossible to relax, as if she were sitting on a pincushion.
“Alex is going to be so hungover in the morning,” June speaks first, surveying the room. “There’s no way he’s going to get all the mistletoe down in time.”
“I can’t wait to see Zahra’s face in the morning when she walks in here.” Nora laughs, trying to sound normal.
“You’re staying, right?”
“Of course.” It’s late, too late to take a car back to her apartment. She’d assumed she would crash at the Residence. She’s even got her toothbrush tucked into her backpack. “Get me up before the carnage starts.”
“How should I wake you?” June says. “I could be an alarm. Beep beep beep until you make me stop.”
Nora tucks her legs under her as she yawns. “Maybe. Where’s your snooze alarm?”
“You’ll have to find out.” June bats her eyes. Nora’s drawn to her perfect cupid’s bow mouth, garnet lipstick perfectly complementing her golden complexion. She wants to respond but her throat’s gone dry.
“Or maybe I climb in bed and give you a more personal wake-up call ” June’s voice is low and seductive, and it feels like a barrier breaking, light-years beyond their normal playful flirting. Nora freezes, caught between desire and self-preservation. The White House, normally a hub of activity, is quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Looking back at Nora, June reaches out and caresses her cheek, and she leans into it as she closes her eyes. Her touch is hesitant but tender, and a soft sigh escapes her lips. June’s hand slips to the back of Nora’s neck, and before Nora can process it, June is kissing her.
June is kissing her.
Nora’s every nerve ending stands on end. June is warm and sweet and tastes lightly of Cabernet and Nora melts into it like ice cream on a hot summer day, and June’s tongue strokes her upper lip and so good and right. It makes Nora want to give in, forget what June is and let her need consume her. It’s a Herculean effort to push her away.
“What the fuck?!!” Nora gets up and turns away, arms crossed. June puts a hand on her shoulder but Nora pushes it off.
”Nora, please.”
“No!” She turns around. Years of frustration, of dashed hopes come rising to the surface. “I thought you were better than that!”
“Than what?”
“A straight girl that messes around with other girls for fun. You’re giving us all a bad name.”
June looks at the floor. “I’m not.”
“Not messing around, or not straight?”
She hesitates before answering. “Neither.”
“Since when? I’ve never seen you interested in a girl. I have watched you flirt your way through Washington. Listened to all your stories about Evan, for fuck’s sake! What brought this on?”
June’s shuddering breath is the only sound echoing through the room for a long moment. Nora fumes. Her static-filled head is buzzed from wine and the ghost of June’s lips on her own, and she can’t focus on anything. Half of her wants to stomp out the door back to her apartment. She’ll walk if she has to, despite it being twenty degrees,
Finally, June speaks. “There’s only one girl I want to flirt with. Why do you think I keep turning down Pez?”
Nora’s mouth drops open as the pieces click into place. Pez, Henry’s flamboyant, ridiculously handsome best friend is smitten with June, but Nora’s never asked why she keeps resisting his overtures.
“I should have been throwing myself at him. But I kept thinking about you instead.” June bites her fingernail, and it’s then Nora notices all of them are bitten short. “I’ve had plenty of girl friends, but it’s not like how it is with you. And I thought this is what a really, really good friendship is like and I didn’t understand it right away…And then after all the shit Alex went through, I saw what it did to him. The gossip wasn’t fun anymore; it was vicious. I haven’t picked up a tabloid since. And then everything was focused on the election and I told myself I’d tell you afterward but I didn’t want to make our last months in DC weird and now I’m rambling because I’m nervous and please say something, Nora.”
Her name is a desperate cry, echoing through the sitting hall. She’s never seen June this vulnerable. There’s a clarity in her, and something more in her manner, she’s standing a little taller, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. The signs were there all along, but she was too focused on not getting her heart broken to see them. She loves June more than anything else in the world, and there’s no better way to show it than believing her.
Nora comes closer, putting her hands on June’s waist. “You and Alex are both idiots.”
“Giant idiots.” June’s whole body sags with relief as she presses her forehead against Nora’s. June gives her the widest grin she’s ever seen, and Nora loves it because it’s just for her. “It might be hereditary. But he’s still the bigger idiot.”
“Let’s shut up about Alex,” Nora whispers.
“Agreed.” June nods and their lips meet again.
The rest of the night is a blur of exploring hands and eager mouths and pleasure Nora didn’t know could exist. Nora can’t imagine wanting to do anything that isn’t kissing June. Nora doesn’t know for sure what happens next, but they can figure that out later. Right now she’s focused on June’s fingers in her brown curls, June’s lips against her neck, and the lightness that fills her down to her toes. It’s just her and June, two-thirds of the White House Trio, finding their way to each other.
Two-thirds, made whole.
–
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Nora says. Standing behind June, she plants soft kisses between her bare shoulder blades. The black sleeveless dress she’s wearing clings to her body in all the right places
“If you keep that up, we’re not leaving this room.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she whispers against June’s shoulder while hugging her from behind. She smells of Chanel and feels like home.
June studies her reflection with a critical eye. “How do I look?”
“‘You’re beautiful. Do you even have to ask?” Nora’s fingers trail down June’s bare arm, giving her goosebumps. They stop at a beaded bracelet circling her wrist, crystal beads in blue, yellow, and pink. The pan flag colors. “This is new.”
“A belated bonus Christmas gift from Alex. And since this is our first official public outing, I’m going all in.” June fingers the beads. It’s the night of the New Year’s Eve party, their first event as a couple. Nora’s never considered her sexuality a big part of her identity, but having a girlfriend that’s so much a part of her is making her revisit that position. She’s barely left June’s side in the last week and a half. Everything has changed, yet nothing has; their relationship a natural progression of their friendship.
June turns around, taking Nora’s face in her hands. “This is a different spotlight than what I’m used to. I’ve always tried to do the right thing for everyone else, and this is something I’m doing for myself.” The echoes of Alex’s forced outing are reflected in her expression.
“This isn’t like what happened to the boys. And you see the reception they got.” So far, the reaction to their coupling has ranged from grumbling it was about time (Henry) to warm congratulations (June’s mom). At Christmas dinner. June’s dad couldn’t stop beaming at them. Zahra is merely relieved that June’s love life hasn’t resulted in another international incident. “And If anyone thinks less of you because of us, they’re assholes, and I’m going to punch each and every one of them.”
“You’ve never punched anyone in your life.” June gives her a knowing smile. “Though it’s kind of hot you’d do that for me.”
“I’m signing up for krav maga first thing tomorrow morning.” Nora proclaims, and they both giggle before kissing some more.