Ready for a Merry Christmas

Susan reflects back on when she met her mother Freddie and honorary uncle Kris, told in a series of chronological vignettes over the course of a year. There's chess games, soup, hospital stays, a love story, some secrets, and a minimal amount of law. Court room drama adjacent (if that) because I know very little about whistleblowers. Are you ready for a Merry Christmas?

Notes:

I watched the movie in December and my identity crisis went OH HEY but then I didn't write that part of the story because it just became wlw fluff which honestly I probably needed just as much. No beta (we die like a punctured Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon) but that also means I didn't get sensitivity readings done, so I'll definitely listen to feedback if you think there's something off about these portrayals.

Work Text:

I met Freddie first, so no matter what Mama would say later, I had dibs. It was in the same January that Mama reported her company to the Securities and Exchange Commissions, which really was the thing that set in motion everything that happened that year. The most important of which was that Mama fell in love with Freddie Gailey and Freddie Gailey fell in love with both of us too. As Mama and Freddie courted over securities law and soup, Freddie’s roommate Kris taught me how to play pretend, how to read a contract, and the best ways to shop for presents. He was my best friend (after Mama and Freddie) and the best adopted uncle you could ask for.

I should maybe start at the beginning.

My name is Susan and I was eight years old that year. My mama, Doris Walker, worked at the corporate headquarters for Morris Inc., a conglomerate specializing in acquiring brick and mortar stores in the process of transitioning to an e-commerce model that over leveraged and got into trouble. She worked in human resources, responsible for too many of the people connected to the group. At least that's how she explained it to me. Mama always tried to explain everything to me as truthfully and detailed as she could, but I was also a kid.

I met Freddie on a slushie late January day where the sleet stuck to your shoes and you never quite managed to feel dry. Mama had to stay late at work, and Freddie was carting boxes up and down the stairs by herself. A few tennis balls spilled out of an unsecured box and I caught them before they vanished down the stairwell. That was good enough for Freddie.

"You much of a tennis player?"

Not being one to talk to strangers much, I shook my head and tried to hand the tennis balls back.

Her face lit up. "Out of space here, chica. I'm up another two flights or you can just balance those on the landing here and we'll hope no one breaks an ankle."

I trotted up after her. It was my floor too, after all.

She jimmied open her door again and added the new box to a precariously stacked tower in the center of the room. She wiped a hand across her brow and exhaled. Taking the tennis balls from me she said, "A life lesson that you hopefully won't need for a few years: always turn the water on in a new apartment before you arrive. Thanks for your help, neighbor." She was just so… personable and lovely, elegant even when sweat stained and dressed in clothes that had clearly been used for painting many different rooms.

I smiled and retreated to my own door, unlocking it and dropping my school bag onto the kitchen table. I had reading homework, but that was always easy. Instead of starting on it, I dragged one of the chairs over to the counter and climbed up onto the counter so I could get the rarely used plastic glasses down. It seemed to take forever, but the new neighbor hadn't made it back up. I loitered awkwardly in the hallway until she made it back up. Her grin was luminescent when I offered her the water glass.

"Thanks, dear," she said. "I'm Freddie."

"Susan."

"How nice it is to meet you, Susan."

I really didn't want to do reading homework. "Do you need any help?"

"Well," Freddie said, dragging the word through her teeth with a smile. "I think I just might."

That night, when Mama got home and we ate the chicken soup Mama always made when she needed something quickly, I told her all about Freddie and she seemed torn between being proud of me for helping and furious I'd spent so much time with a stranger. I'd learn later that after I went to bed, Mama went across the hall, bowl of soup in hand, and had her own helpful conversation with Freddie, that mostly revolved around the welcoming, vague threats parents give non-parents and Freddie responding with cheerful, optimistic agreements.

It was just impossible to not like Freddie.

In the following two weeks, Mama stayed late at work six more times. One night while I slogged sullenly through math worksheets, Freddie knocked on our door. I wasn't supposed to open it to anyone, but she had Mama on her cellphone telling me to go over to Freddie's for dinner.

Mama didn't often work late. Not that much. And the once a month night offs she took always saw me sleeping over with Tía Cleo and her kids. Leslie and Carter weren't actually my cousins, but Tía Cleo and Mama exchanged childcare on a consistent basis. But also always, always scheduled in advance. Mama trusted me on my own, when she needed it, and I always did my best to live up to that trust.

But that night I just wanted to cry. Or shout or scream or stomp my foot and demand through Freddie's cell phone that Mama just come home already. Instead, I put away my homework and trotted across the hall into Freddie's.

The layout was identical to our apartment, but Freddie still had unpacked boxes everywhere and no furniture besides a brilliant, cheerful yellow couch. The kitchen was little better, and the sparseness made even the identical set up seem wildly unfamiliar. She pulled open the fridge and studied it for a moment, back to me, before turning around with a bright smile. "How about we go out for pho, you and me?"

It didn't quite make up for Mama not being home, but it was fun.

We came back to the apartment building with takeout for Mama, and Freddie trotted after me into our apartment and read books with me until fifteen minutes past when I was supposed to be in bed. I'd waited, intentionally, to see if she'd say anything, or if Mama would be home, but bedtime was bedtime and my stolen fifteen minutes were still stolen.

I did cry a bit, into my pillow, and don't know how late it was when Mama got home.

She was home at her regular hour the next day, with fried chicken from Benny's we only got when she wanted to have a Conversation. I picked at my food, sneaking glances at Mama while she ate. I thought she was just about the prettiest person in the city; her dark hair was always in place and her nose was just the right size and she had three freckles in a line on one side of her face and four freckles in a square on the other side and then a little clump of six that almost made it look like the freckles had been pressed into her face by the sides of a die. But she looked so very tired.

"Susie," Mama said, "I want to talk to you about two things. Do you remember my coworker Kris? You met him at the Christmas party in December?"

I nodded.

"Well, he needed to move into a new apartment and Freddie was looking for a roommate, so Kris will be moving in nextdoor. Do you remember what we talked about?"

"Kris is a boy," I said, pushing mashed potatoes around on my plate. I quoted as close to what Mama had told me before the Christmas party as I could remember. "But not everyone treats him like that so I have to be careful to be correct and polite and ask you questions when I don't understand."

Mama breathed out through her nose. "That's right, honey."

"Lex is a girl," I said, taking a bite. "She said she's not ever going to be a boy again and then when Jackson kept using her old name even after we all said stop, Lex punched him."

Mama smiled. "Well, punching people is never a solution, remember? You should go to your teachers, okay? But I'm glad Lex stood up for herself and hope you will stand up for her too."

"Duh." It was easier to eat in the silence that followed, until Mama took a loud, stuttering breath and I remembered there were two things

She started softly, and her voice quivered too much. "So… the reason I've been staying late at work is that I've found something, well, wrong. Some of the people in charge aren't doing the right things. And I, well, Kris and I… we've told the authorities, like you should tell a teacher when something is wrong. But stuff like this can be really complicated and kind of scary and I'm just trying to do the right thing, but it’s just… there’s just a lot."

I blinked at her, in total confusion. "People in charge like Ms. Morris?" I'd met Macy Morris at the same holiday party last year and absolutely hated her because she pinched my check and made me eat a cookie even when I told her I didn't like chocolate chips.

Mama stared down at the table. "I don't know. Maybe." That usually meant yes with Mama. "But this is going to be a really big, really important secret, so you need to not say anything to anyone, okay? You can talk to me about anything, but this is a secret."

I frowned. "You said secrets are bad."

She ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah. Yeah. Usually. But this won't be a secret forever, okay? I made this not be a secret by reporting it to the proper authorities.."

"What happened?" I asked, almost whining.

"People stole money, Susie," Mama said. "Lots of money. And I'm trying to help make sure they get caught." Her hands quivered over her dinner.

We ate in silence for a bit before I asked, "Are you scared?"

My ever truthful, ever honest mother, just said yes.

We moved Kris in that Saturday: me, Mama, Freddie, and Kris' sister Vix who lived way upstate but took the train down sometimes. It went a lot faster than just Freddie moving her stuff, but it would have been a lot easier if Freddie had ever actually finished unpacking.

Vix was vivacious and loud and talked freely about her job in the state attorney general's office as a specialist in advertising misrepresentation. Freddie was equally bubbly, and bounced from topic to topic freely, a lawyer's training keeping easy pace with Vix's more outlandish stories. Mama tried to engage, but she'd just been so quiet and sad that she fell into the background, directing traffic. Kris fretted over his craft supplies, whispered stupid jokes to me when Vix and Freddie went over our heads, and told me all about the time he fell off the monkey bars in the school playground and the subsequent scar on his arm.

After Vix left to catch the train back north, Freddie ordered pizza and the rest of us vacated the chaos of that apartment for the mostly straightened home of ours, and Kris and Freddie told progressively more outlandish stories to try and make me and Mama laugh.

Freddie won most with Mama.

Kris won most with me, but that was all right. I already liked the way Freddie's eyes sparkled when she looked at Mama and the askew stance she took sometimes, as if she were a planet gravitating towards the sun that was Mama.

The nasty stuff with Mama's work didn't come up once.

In the subsequent weeks, it seemed like Freddie and Kris were around more often than not. Freddie heard about the report (from Kris) and immediately volunteered to help, so she and Mama were often distracted and focused, trying to process everything and prepare for subsequent steps. For some reason, Freddie couldn’t be Mama's lawyer (“and even if I could, this wasn’t my area of practice anyway”), but she was the closest thing we had. And even though Kris was Mama's ex-coworker and had helped with the initial reporting and probably technically should have been more involved than Freddie, he seemed to prefer to keep me entertained. I learned many new things, mostly from Kris. I learned what a whistleblower was, a working difference between theft ("predominantly depriving someone of property by force or stealth") and fraud ("gains created through misrepresentations to another"), a brief history of the Securities and Exchange Commission, and listened to the U.S. Constitution read to me for the first time. I tried to read along, but it really didn't make sense. My teacher was impressed, though.

More importantly, we were doing a whole unit on animals in science at school and we learned all about horses and frogs and sharks and fireflies and pigeons. Kris tried to get me to tell stories about the animals we studied, but I didn't like making stuff up, so Kris always shrugged and wove his own tales about magical worms, dashing cockatiels, and spooky chameleons. Sometimes, when Kris tried to push me to pretend, Mama would look up from her papers, frown, and call me away on some minor request.

I wondered if she ever straight out asked Kris to stop. I just didn't like pretending. It was too close to lying and I didn't like to lie.

I still loved Kris though. And Freddie. They were the best neighbors we’d ever had, but sometimes I just sometimes wished Mama could focus on me again.

Freddie got sick in March. Kris was working back to back doubles and wasn’t around, and Mama had to work too, so I checked on her every day right after school. She brightened whenever I came by. She started teaching me how to play chess - how each of the different pieces moved and how they all worked together as a team.

She said I was a natural at it.

Mama would make soups and stick the leftovers in the fridge, so I took those over to Freddie too, and we ate after school snacks on her yellow couch and she told me just how much she loved bright, happy, vibrant things. Mama would check on both of us when she got back, and then she and I would go back to our apartment and she’d go back to working on the case, strictly forbidding Freddie from helping until she was back on her feet.

Freddie recovered after a week or so, and went back to her odd jobs, so the afternoons became just me again.

Mama kept making too much soup for just us, though, so dinners became a lovely, crowded thing.

And then one night off rolled around and Mama dressed up in her fancy clothes and did her make up and teased her hair and lingered extra long in the mirror. We took the subway to Tía Cleo's and Mama told me she was going on a date (obviously).

"I know things haven't been easy, lately," Mama said. "I know I've been busy and everything, but I just want you to know you can tell me if things aren't okay with you."

I studied her, contemplative. "I'm fine." I really wouldn't tell her otherwise.

Worry crinkled her perfect face. "Susan, I want you to be good."

"I am," I insist.

She sighed and seemed to let that conversation go. As we approached the last stop, she asked "and do you have any questions about me dating another woman?"

I rolled my eyes at her, and tried to make sure that was a sufficiently exasperated gesture. "I like Freddie," I said. "She's great."

"Yeah," Mama said, "she is."

Tía Cleo obviously wanted to know everything about Mama's date to be, but Mama shook her off with a laugh and a wave. She pressed a kiss to my forehead and vanished into the night.

Tía Cleo put her hands on her hips and looked down at me. "Alright now, dear, I want all the details."

I didn't want that night to change anything, I promise. I liked Freddie. I wanted her around! I liked the way Mama softened and melted and seemed more at ease. I liked the way Freddie seemed to surge with energy and glee. But things kept changing, and I didn’t know what to do but watch, and the more I watched, the more I saw a story unfold before me at a pace I couldn't control.

And as much as it made me happy, it made me angry too. They had whole conversations at breakneck speed that whizzed over my head. Pieces of unfinished conversations popped up in odd times in odd ways, and I never understood the pieces. Mama just got so blindingly happy sometimes, and I could never remember making her that happy, just me.

One night, I got so furious during an evening with Kris and Freddie spent helping on the case that I faked feeling ill and ran to my bedroom to hide away. Every time Mama came to check on me, I pretended to be a sleep, which was absolutely a whole bunch of lies and made a guilty knot settle into my stomach but I was still so angry and it didn't seem like Mama cared enough to check on me enough and I got so very hungry that there were too many stomach knots to manage and I eventually managed to cry myself to sleep.

It was harder to like Freddie after that, but I still tried, because I already loved her. We played chess, every Tuesday night, and she was patient and instructive and if I sometimes retreated into abject surliness, she let me have my space.

It was just easier with Kris, who slotted into our family on Freddie's heels, easily and smoothly, but didn't seem to demand so much from us. He never seemed jealous of Mama and Freddie.

Eventually, one Thursday night, I asked him if he ever did get jealous of them. They were in the other apartment, making dinner, and I was trying to get all the off-kilter circles on a leopard coloring page just right.

"Susan," Kris said, settling aside his own coloring page and peering down at me. "You have been, and will forever be, a star."

I frowned, confused.

"You burn so bright and beautiful; it's so easy to see just how much your mother loves you. How she wants you to succeed. She glows in the light of it all."

Uncomfortable, I fiddled with my pencils, weaving them back and forth between my fingers.

Kris leaned forward. "I'm going to tell you a secret I wouldn't learn until much, much later in life. You do not owe your mother anything. If you choose not to love her, that is your choice. If you choose not to accept a partner she chooses - be that Freddie or someone else - that is your choice. I will not sit here and tell you how much you owe your mother for all she has done for you." He pulled out a blank piece of paper and started drawing a sun and moon and planets and stars. "I will only tell you that I have learned how precious love is, because it is rare and must be fought for. And you can choose, little one, to fight for that love. To fight to be able to extend that love to anyone and everyone, but especially those who make your mother happy. I think you'll burn stronger if you do."

Of course, exhausted and sick to my stomach over emotions I didn't want to be feeling, I proceeded to burst into tears. Again.

That was how Mama and Freddie found me, curled up on the couch and sobbing that I was sorry for being jealous.

Freddie kneeled down in front of me and brushed damp strands of hair out of my eyes. She looked so concerned and so sad and so… willing to be my friend. I pitched forward and threw my arms around her neck before she could say anything and everything was better.

After that, I made more of an effort to tell Mama and Freddie when I felt left out, and when I was sad, but also when they both made me so happy I didn't know what to do. It wasn't an all at once process, but it did get easier.

In May, as the nights started to stretch out longer, Kris took me with him one night when Mama and Freddie were out on a date, and we ended up in one of those streets I wasn't ever supposed to go alone to see some friends of his. I played checkers with Louisa and Jacqui, and he smoked nicotine (which I also wasn't ever supposed to do) with a few more, talking quietly about this, that, and whatever.

That night, I was in bed long before Mama got home, stealing minutes past bedtime to read under the covers, but her loud, shaky, "what?!" would have woken me anyway.

Most of her and Kris' conversation was too quiet to hear. But Mama's shriek of "she's eight! Kringle, she's a child!" shattered that silence into angry little pieces of lightning.

"They're my people!" Kris shouted, the first audible thing from him I heard. "They should be your people too, Doris!"

A shimmer of inaudible disagreement warped between them and I dragged a pillow over my head to block out the words. The conversation still crackled, half loudly, as my door creaked open and Freddie whispered, "Susan? You awake?"

I reached for the bedside light and flicked it on. She stepped into the room and rested her hand on my pillow, but did not try to pull it off my face. She looked odd and worn in the half-light, all shadowy and confused, framed in an odd way by the pillow on my head. "Did you have fun tonight?" Freddie asked.

"I like chess better," I said. "But Louisa only had a checker's set."

"A classic game," she said, running a hand through her hair.

"Why is Mama so mad?"

Freddie frowned. "Sometimes, it's not a safe world, Susie. And… for some people, more than others. That's not fair and that's not right and we need to do what we can as people and as citizens to try and make the world safer for everyone. But your mom got scared, I think, to hear you were somewhere she might believe to be unsafe."

"Louisa and Jacqui were safe," I said, stubbornly. "They were nice to me."

"Kris has some good friends. But while you may be safe from harm from them, they might not be safe from harm from others, and if you were with them when that harm occurred, then… Do you understand?"

I shook my head. Freddie still talked like a lawyer too much sometimes. The unpleasantness from the main rooms of the apartment settled into a heavy quiet. "They were really nice." I insisted. "I had fun."

"That's good, Susie. I'm glad."

Later, once we were alone, Mama apologized for being so loud. She had been scared, she said, and surprised, and overreacted, and that had been wrong of her.

Still, I didn't leave the apartments with Kris alone for awhile: Mama said it was fine, but Kris said he had broken her trust and trust was a really important thing, especially trusting someone with your kid, so he wanted to make sure Mama was really actually cross your heart comfortable trusting me with him.

We also had Louisa and Jacqui and Quiver and Lake over for dinner. I sat on the edge of Freddie's armchair as Louisa beat her soundly at chess. Mama and Lake and Jacqui exchanged rapid fire stories about all their favorite music growing up. Kris and Quiver bounced between the groups, always grinning. I had even more fun that night, especially because Louisa taught me chess like I was an adult, and didn't play easy on me.

My world got a bit less safe shortly after the dinner party, and only a week away from the start of summer.

It was just Mama and me at home one evening, both Freddie and Kris out working their odd jobs. Someone knocked real loud on the door. I jumped up to go see who it was, tiptoeing up to see through the peephole. "Yes?"

"Here to see a Doris Walker," said the man.

"Mama," I said, retreating back to my homework on the kitchen table. She must have taken too long or it had been his plan all along, but before I got very far, there was a huge splintering crash and the door caved in. I felt a spray of little pieces knock into my back and it hurt but not too badly. But Mama had screamed and I didn't know what to do so I dove under the kitchen table.

From there, I could see everything. It wasn't one man, but three, and they had all masks, so the first man must have yanked one on before knocking down the door. And they had Mama. One of them held her arm and shoulder and shook her back and forth.

"We want to have a conversation," said one of the men, and it was a different man than had knocked. "And if you behave and listen to us very well, then we'll all get out of this conversation just fine, understand?"

Mama didn't say anything.

"You've been spreading lies about some very important people, Mrs. Walker," he said. Mama often corrected people when they used the wrong prefix, but not then. "And they would be very appreciative if you saw the wisdom in recanting those lies and the damage that they've done."

She didn't say anything. One of them slapped her and her head rolled back. All three men were focused on Mama and ignoring me. I didn't know what to do, but they kept squeezing Mama and shaking her and were pressed in so close and so scary. Stuff like this used to happen back when I was really little, before Mama got divorced, but we didn’t talk about it ever. Then I remembered the landline by the refrigerator no one ever used.

I crept towards the other side of the table, trying to stay low and quiet. They all ignored me, so I got to the phone. I grabbed the top part and dialed 911 before remembering that I had no idea how to silence a landline.

It rang.

The men swirled to face me, cursing. I froze. And then one of them had a gun pointed at me.

I heard Mama, then, over the din. "No, no, you don't hurt her. Please, she has nothing to do with this." She was fighting in their grip. I'd never seen her look so wild and scared. It was all very hard to watch. Desperately, she tried to break free, but that just got her in a tighter hold, and then she bit the arm of the one man and he yelped.

More out of surprise, the man with the gun swirled it away from me.

The phone kept ringing. Mama kept fighting and crying for them not to hurt me.

"Hang that up, girl," said the man with the gun. "Or we shoot your mother."

I shook my head. The phone rang again. They smacked the gun into her side and Mama shrieked.

"Who the fuck has landlines anymore," said one of the men, under his breath. They hit her again.

Then the call connected. "911, what is your emergency?"

"Shit," said one of the men. "Let's go."

They dropped Mama and ran away. She crumbled to the floor, quiet, hiccuping sobs running through her. The call operator repeated the question.

I swallowed, blinked hard, and barely even managed a "they hurt my mother." Mama looked like she was trying to crawl to me, but she couldn't seem to move really well.

I know I kept talking to the operator after that, but it was blurry and rushed and all I can remember is Mama looking up at me, her nose bloody, full of fear and pain and panic. I stayed on the call until two police officers showed up at the door and then there were paramedics buzzing around Mama.

They needed to take her to the hospital, they said. They didn't like the look of her lungs. One of them checked me out, spinning me around in a circle. I was bleeding; lots of little splinters embedded in my back. They asked who I should call on my mother's behalf, and I knew, I knew, I knew I was supposed to give Tía Cleo's number, but I didn't want her and her orderliness and invasiveness and her constant questions. I wanted Freddie. I wanted Freddie because she made my Mama happy and Mama was currently barely breathing, barely conscious. And I knew Freddie's number, so I didn't follow instructions.

They put Mama on a stretcher to carry her down to an ambulance and I followed along behind it. I did grab Mama's purse on the way, because it was there. I couldn't lock the door behind us, as there wasn't really a door anymore.

I climbed up in the same ambulance as Mama and they strapped me into a different seat. Mama wheezed, barely coherent, and I wiggled forward until I was close enough to grab her hand. She settled, somewhat.

Things blurred again after that. At the hospital they pulled me away from her, and then a nurse plucked out all the splinters from the back of my arms and neck and head. She patched up all the spots that were bleeding and put three stitches into the worst spot. Maybe that all should have hurt, but they hadn't told me where Mama was and I didn't know what was going on.

And they still didn't tell me, even when the nurse took me back to a waiting area with a reception desk and said someone would be along for me soon. So I did what I was never, ever, supposed to do. I got mad, I got loud, and I got demanding.

That's how Freddie found me, shrieking at the top of my lungs in the middle of a random waiting area about how they had better take me to my mother RIGHT NOW.

I leapt into her arms and bawled into her neck. She clung to me right back.

Having Freddie there made things better, but also didn't make anything better. They wouldn't tell her anything, so we still had to call Tía Cleo as Mama's next of kin. And then we had to wait for her to arrive. When she finally got to the hospital, Kris hot on her heels, they finally moved us to a different area where a doctor took Tía Cleo back to talk to her.

Then the police showed up and wanted to talk to me, but Freddie insisted I needed a parent or a lawyer present and since they wouldn't let her count as the former and she couldn't act as the latter anymore, we just sat there with the police officers until Tía Cleo came back.

She did have all the necessary paperwork as my stand-in parent, so as much as I begged Freddie to come too, the three adults had a hurried, whispered conversation that made all of their faces twist angrily and quivers race through Freddie's fingers, and then Tía Cleo and the police officers and I went into a different room.

They gave me some water and an apple to eat while we talked and wanted to know everything that happened. There were cookies too, but I didn’t eat those. I answered their questions as best I could, while Tía Cleo sat next to me and vibrated with curiosity the whole time. I tried to describe the one man whose face I'd seen, but besides him being white, I didn't recall much.

The police eventually told me I was very brave and sent us back to the waiting room.

I dove straight into Freddie's lap and she clutched me close.

"Kris went to get food," she said, smoothing some hair out of my face.

I told Freddie all the same things I told the police, finally remembered I had Mama’s purse strapped around my shoulders, and then fell asleep against her.

I woke up much, much later on the familiar cot at Tía Cleo's house, and was immediately awash with frustration. It was dark out, and the little digital clock on the mantle said it was 3:19am. They'd separated me from my Mama and I didn't know how she was or what was wrong or-- I started going to find Tía Cleo to demand answers, but stumbled across Freddie, asleep on the couch in the living room first. It was such an incongruous sight that I stopped short, but I still must have been making enough noise for her to wake up.

"Hey, nena," Freddie said, "come here." I crawled onto the couch with her and pressed my face into her shoulder. "We didn't want you to sleep all night at the hospital, and… well, my apartment was a bit too close for comfort, but I wasn't going to just--"

"How's Mama?"

Freddie shivered. "Last we heard, she was doing well. But they beat her up pretty good."

"...like Sawyer did?" I didn't like to mention Mama's ex-husband, because it always made her cold and sad. And I certainly didn't like thinking about him being once upon a time my dad.

"Yeah, pretty much exactly like he did," Freddie said, her fingers curling into me almost a little too tight. "They rebroke one of the same ribs. But it's different too; none of these men ever married her."

"Did Macy Morris send them?" I asked.

A soft little chuckle reverberated through her. "Well, that's for the police to decide. But Kris and I did make sure the agents on the case know what happened."

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She exhaled again, the whisper of it dancing across my head. "I was very scared, honey. I… well, I love you and I love your mama and it was pretty scary to be called down to the hospital. But you're okay and your mama is gonna be okay. So I'm okay too."

"I told them to call you."

Freddie clutched me tighter again and pressed a quiet "thank you" into my hair. I drifted back to sleep.

Mama spent three days in the hospital with whiplash, a broken rib, a lacerated lung, and the most magnificent of black eyes.

Freddie took me down to the school one day to explain what happened and how I'd be out for the rest of the year, what with there only being a few days left, but they understood and we got the paperwork all signed and squared away. After that, I spent most of my time at the hospital with Mama. And she was in pain, but was often alert and talkative and sometimes she and Freddie would just be the absolute worst with how much they loved each other.

Apparently, Freddie had said it aloud first, for the first time, the first time she saw a barely conscious Mama. Mama said it was the most perfect of timing, and then they never stopped reveling in each other.

But they both loved me too, so that was okay.

I also got to meet my first investigatory agent of the Securities and Exchange Commission, who came out to see Mama and was, in my opinion, appropriately livid over the whole thing. They were followed by an agent from the Department of Justice, who was less livid but more helpful in the pursuit of this definitely being connected to the securities fraud and how this violated a lot of rules but mostly constituted retaliation against a whistleblower which made the case against the Morrises somehow more likely to go well. I didn't understand at all, but Freddie seemed pleased.

Kris got the landlord to get the door frame fixed as soon as the police allowed it, and then got a new door mounted. He installed three different types of locks and a fancier security system, so that when Mama came home, maybe she'd feel safer again.

We'd moved three times after the last time Sawyer put Mama in the hospital, back when I was real little, so I didn't really expect her to feel safe anywhere. But maybe having Freddie and Kris around would change that.

It did, but it didn't. When we left the hospital we went straight to Freddie and Kris' apartment. Kris helped me build blanket forts sprawled over the yellow couch and Mama managed what absolutely had to be done from Freddie's bed. She wasn't up and mobile yet, and spent most of the day asleep anyway. As soon as the police said it was okay and everything else could be managed over the phone, Freddie bundled me, Mama, and a wheelchair for Mama into a rented car and drove us upstate.

Kris couldn't afford to take off from his jobs, but Vix ran a short term rental in the other side of her duplex and rented it to us for cheap. It was weird having stairs inside the residence, instead of as on the way up to the apartment. We didn't do much, as Mama's mobility was nonexistent, but I curled up between her and Freddie and we watched movie after movie.

Freddie bemoaned the state of my Spanish, which Mama put a stop to right away. It was different, she said. Freddie's parents' parents’ parents had been in the US in all directions, but Mama had come to the states when she was five. With both of my grandparents gone, she'd prioritize letting me be as American as possible. Freddie listened, nodded, and asked permission to teach me anyway. “You’re important, Doris, every little part of you,” Freddie had said. “Including where you came from. You deserve to claim your heritage freely, just as Susan does.” Mama mulled over it for a few days, before nodding and saying only if I wanted to learn.

And then Freddie mentioned how much her parents were going to love me, Spanish or not, and Mama freaked out for a bit before we calmed her down with soup and animation.

One night, I asked Freddie why she couldn't be a lawyer anymore.

She exhaled through her nose and leaned back against the couch. "I punched a judge."

"What?" Mama said. That surprised me, as I thought she'd have known by then.

"I used to practice in family court. Custody cases. I was representing this young man, Alfred, trying to get his five year old brother out of a bad situation with his mother." Freddie spoke slowly and evenly, like each word was hard. "Alfred was stable, employed, and loving. Young. The judge looked at him and saw a big Black boy, trying to claim a little white child. They were only half-brothers, after all. And what judge would take a child from his mother?" She laughed, harshly.

Mama reached out and stroked her hair. Freddie looked away and continued. "It wasn't in court, or the bailiff would have tackled me for sure, but I saw this judge at a bar just afterwards and… well. Don't punch people, Susie."

I nodded.

Freddie leaned into Mama's touch and closed her eyes. "Maybe I could've fought the disbarment, if I were white… Or a man. Disbarring is pretty rare, all things considered. But the judge wanted me out and could've demanded battery assault instead, so…"

Mama made a restricted, guttural noise of assent, and then just said, "I'm glad you're here, with us."

She blinked rapidly a few times, before twisting around and kissing Mama softly. "Me too," Freddie whispered, only just loud enough. "Me too."

I probably should've kept quiet but I had to know: "did he get a black eye?"

Freddie laughed. She fell back against the couch again, but seemed looser, lighter, and freer. "He sure did. And a broken nose to boot."

"Good."

Both Freddie and I blatantly ignored Mama's subsequent glare.

We stayed upstate for three more weeks while Mama recovered. She couldn't go back to work at the Morris company, not ever, but did have a wrongful termination case brewing. The Department of Justice hadn't decided on criminal charges, but Freddie already had a meeting with an employment lawyer lined up for Mama when we got back to the city.

Or, that would've happened, except as we were headed back to the city, Mama caught a cold. We got her to the hospital, but she had pneumonia and it was already serious.

Somehow, this hospital stay was worse than the last one. It stretched out longer. Tía Cleo and Mama, when lucid, got all the paperwork switched over to Freddie, because Mama said that made her feel better. They wouldn't let me stay overnight ever, so I bounced between the hospital and the blanket fort on the yellow couch and tried not to worry.

Freddie was gone a lot between a new job and the hospital, so I spent a lot of time alone or with Kris in their apartment. He taught me how to make a cheesecake and made trips to the library with me so I had enough summer books and asked what I wanted to get everyone for Christmas. When I pointed out that it was only June, he laughed and said that that wasn't what mattered. Christmas was a frame of mind, after all.

When I asked if we should get anything for Mama and Freddie now, he grinned. Kris had all sorts of tips and tricks for finding the perfect present, which I mostly thought was bogus because it was so over complicated.

I got Mama a stuffed turtle, so she could hug it real tight while alone at the hospital. For Freddie, I went into our actual apartment and pulled down all the boxes of old pictures, so I gave her a whole book of pictures of me and Mama. Mama approved of the plan, but she didn't want me in that apartment alone. The little book made Freddie cry, so Kris said that was a job well done.

I made Kris cry when I first called him Tío one time he took me to the hospital, but Freddie immediately ruined it by groaning and handing Mama a twenty. Kris seemed far more amused than I did that they were betting on when that would happen.

After what felt like absolutely ages, but was really not even three weeks, the doctors declared Mama could go home. She set her face, declared I needed to stop sleeping on a couch, and we moved back into our apartment.

Freddie came too, full time, because where else was she going to be?

It was nice to be back in my own bed again. It was not nice to watch Mama flinch every time she looked at the landline. After three days, Freddie just took it down and called to cancel the service. The next day she handed me my very own cell phone with the strict instructions I was only ever allowed to use it to call her, Mama, Kris, Cleo, 911, or anyone else on the "list of approved care providers." Still, a cellphone!

I thought it perfectly reasonable that everyone forgot my birthday, what with everything going on. The rescheduled meeting with the employment lawyer was that morning, and Mama was deciding whether to move forward with that case too. The Department of Justice would be pursuing criminal charges, but there was just a whole lot of complicated stuff that Freddie could sometimes explain but usually not.

Mama remembered, horrified, over dinner, and for her face alone I wished I had reminded them. They didn't believe me when I said it was fine, but it was!

I knew they loved me, and Mama was back from the hospital. That was gift enough.

Still, we went out for a nice dinner that weekend - the three of us and Kris and my friend Lex Mara and her parents and Tía Cleo and Carter and Leslie, and then Lex came over for a sleepover. Lex hadn't gotten to do a girl sleepover yet, she said, and was just giddy with excitement, so we painted each other's nails and Kris dumped a truly massive collection of old Polly Pockets on us, which Lex thought was an absolute delight. I'd never been very good at playing with dolls, because there never seemed to be a right answer, but Lex's enthusiasm was catching and we made up wild and crazy stories for the little figures all night long.

Mama got a new job in the HR department of a different company, and she relaxed into it slowly, distrustfully, but fully willing to do a good job. It was too far away, though, and her commute strained her still recovering lungs.

Kris finally landed a full-time position which didn't pay very well, but that he absolutely loved, providing financial, tax, and legal services as part of a community center's outreach to unhoused or otherwise underserved individuals.

Freddie still flittered between multiple part time positions, never finding something that satisfied her, engaged her, and simultaneously did not completely infuriate her. Freddie was funny when she was mad. She usually got mad with a purpose and almost never at a person. She'd pace back and forth and mutter more and more outlandish things under her breath. She'd fume and mess up her hair until it was tangled and frizzy and she looked like she had a head full of cactus. But she never yelled, and she never drank, as far as I could tell. And even at her maddest, even though she was a head taller than Mama, Mama still felt safe enough to press into Freddie's space, put a hand on her back, whisper something calming, and retreat again, knowing some service had been rendered.

Freddie's mad was absolutely nothing like Sawyer's, what little of it I could remember, and I loved her for it. She fit into our lives seamlessly, and her joy and energy and care and kindness buoyed us through that weird, scary, uncertain summer.

In August, we went up to Boston to meet Freddie's parents. I liked her dad well enough, but her mom said something about how girls dating girls was wrong when she thought no one could hear her, so I refused to like her. She was perfectly nice to my Mama to her face, but distrust shimmered just behind her eyes. It made the whole visit uncomfortable, and we went to a museum the last day, just for an excuse to get away.

"Sorry," Freddie said, pressing a kiss to Mama's temple. "She's not… she's never… she's never been that mean to someone I've brought home before." I probably should've been focusing on the art display than eavesdropping, but they were more interesting.

Mama clung to her hand anyway. "Bring a lot of people home, Frederica?"

Freddie hummed. "Well, not anymore."

Mama's smile was luminescent.

One night, when Freddie was off at another new job, Mama took me out for dinner. "I know there's a lot going on with the cases and the new job and you'll be starting up school again soon, so the timing is all wrong, but… I want to ask Freddie to marry me, but I want to make sure you're okay with that first."

I stared at her, a forkful of lasagna suspended in the air.

"The timing is all wrong," Mama said, rambling on and on and picking up speed as she went. "We're just too busy but I want… I want this. And I know we've really only known her for a few months." I rolled my eyes at her for that one. We both knew that the time before Freddie might as well be ages and ages ago. "But she makes me happy, Susan, and I think, that is, I hope, she makes you happy too?"

I nodded. "I love Freddie."

“I never thought I’d want it again,” Mama said, quiet and awed and talking to me like she’d forgotten I was a child and I was just another adult. “But every time I picture the future now, I see her there, with us.

We spent the rest of the meal talking about how wonderful and kind and silly and amazing Freddie could be, and I don't think I ever actually said yes, but Mama knew I was okay. And even though secrets were bad, Mama asked me to keep this conversation a secret from Freddie, just for the time being.

Of course, two days later, Freddie made a big show of taking me out for dinner as a pre-start of school treat. We got dressed up and went to a far fancier restaurant than we normally did. We talked about school and what I wanted to do with my life (not being a lawyer, I thought, but maybe that would be fun) and famous chess players and then over dessert, Freddie said, "Susan, would you be willing to give me permission to ask your mother to marry me?"

This time, I froze over a bite of chocolate mousse, which was really really good.

Freddie seemed to interpret that as no, and pulled away, curling in on herself in increments.

I dropped my spoon, and only barely noticed it tumbling all the way to the floor. "Yes!" I said, probably too loudly for the restaurant. "Yes, yes, do it!"

All the momentary sadness drained out of her and Freddie beamed brightly. A waitress came over to make sure we were okay and gave me another spoon, but I think we were both too happy to notice.

And when Freddie asked me to keep this conversation a secret, just for a little bit, I don't think she noticed anything too unusual with how I nodded far too vigorously.

But I'm not one for secrets and I couldn't talk to Mama and I couldn't talk to Freddie, so as soon as I could I ran to Kris and told him everything. He howled with laughter and agreed to help me keep both conversations a secret from the other, but he was also very bad at keeping secrets, so both Mama and Freddie must have noticed Kris and I accidentally catching each other's eyes at inopportune times and dissolving into furious giggles way too often. This went on for days.

I started school, and neither had said anything yet. Lex was still in my class, which was nice, because it seemed like most of the class got chopped up and moved around and there were a whole bunch of new students to get to know. But I had Lex and she had me and it was… fun and weird and amazing, suddenly being the sort of kid who just… had a best friend, a first choice, a ride or die partner like that.

Not everyone was nice to Lex, and so they started being not nice to me too, but I didn't really care about that part of it. Lex was kind, and that's what mattered.

After what felt like forever, I spent a Friday night with Kris while Mama and Freddie went out on a fancy date. He helped me with math homework and let me stay up way past my bedtime. Tío Kris was fun to break the rules with, because he always thought carefully about which rules were worth breaking, and did everything with consideration and kindness. I would have been too excited to sleep anyway.

But when Mama and Freddie got home, they were both somewhat subdued and quiet. It was clear that nothing happened.

I groaned and flopped theatrically over the kitchen table, where I was trying and mostly failing to teach Kris how to play chess.

"Susan," Mama said, "what are you still doing up?"

"Keeping secrets, apparently," I whined, still faced down on the table. "And I hate it." Kris patted my head in sympathy. When I finally dragged my head up, it was to see them both still standing frozen, like they'd been startled, and were each aggressively not looking at the other. I put my head back down. "It's hopeless!"

"Oh," Kris said, "I don't think it's as hopeless as all that. Now, I said you could stay up until they got back. Time for bed now, Susie."

I whined at him, but went to bed, overtired and disappointed.

And then, because my moms were the worst, it happened completely casually, a week later, on a Saturday morning, over cereal. The worst!

I'd woken up first and was texting Lex about which Polly Pockets she wanted from Kris's collection as her very own. She'd been added to the list of safe contact people when school started. I'd gotten the cereal down and the milk out and poured myself a bowl and was munching away when Mama showed up. She got her various medicine and water and stood next to me, blearily watching me eat.

She hadn't even bothered to get dressed yet. After a few moments, she mumbled a greeting and started getting coffee ready. Mama always slept in heavy flannel pajamas, even when it was too hot out. Freddie always slept in a tank top and shorts. She emerged from the bedroom, just as blearily and just as stumbly. It was routine for a day neither of them had to work.

Freddie ruffled my hair as she passed. She accepted the cup of coffee from Mama with a grumpy "good morning" and quick kiss. She got a bowl out for her own cereal and somehow missed the fact that Mama hadn't moved out of the way, so when she spun back around, she knocked into Mama and spilled some of her coffee all over everywhere.

Freddie cursed and pulled back, but Mama grabbed her arm and held her there and somewhat feverishly, all in a rush, said, "I would very much like for you to be here always so would you please marry me?"

The tenuous hold Freddie had on the coffee cup vanished and it clattered to the ground.

I could see Freddie's face, clear as day, as it cycled through horror and surprise and astonishment and landed on an awakening, unfolding joy. Then, hands suddenly free, she surged forward and clasped both sides of Mama's face and kissed her so gleefully I felt like cheering. Mama wrapped her arms around Freddie's back and clung, just as happy.

"Yes," Freddie was muttering, as she pulled back. Both of them looked teary. "Yes, yes, yes. But I had a speech!"

Mama hadn't let Freddie go yet, but shifted so she could rest easily in the circle of Freddie's arms. "A speech?"

"I was going to ask you," Freddie said, "and it was going to be perfect."

"I dunno," Mama said, "there's coffee staining my favorite socks right now, so I think it's pretty perfect." She surged up and kissed Freddie again.

That's about when I burst out "finally!" and broke into happy tears.

After Mama and Freddie got changed and got the coffee cleaned up and I managed to stop crying, I told them about the dinners and what they'd said. They both apologized for asking me to keep such a big secret for so long. I told them I loved them and just how excited I was. We all ate cereal and then went to a park together to celebrate.

Later, when it was just me and Freddie, I asked if she'd prefer mami or amá, if she was okay with that. And then she started crying, which made me start crying again, so that was how Mama found me and my Amá, later, just crying and hugging and incoherently trying to explain why.

Kris was absolutely thrilled, just like the rest of us.

After that, things seemed to move very quickly. Mama and Amá were always busy, and there wasn't much room for wedding planning.

Mama couldn't handle the commute anymore; she spent more time in doctors offices as they tried to figure out lingering, long term implications of the pneumonia. She also spent a lot of time with her lawyers. I learned what a deposition was, and it sounded terrifying just hearing Kris describe it. There were three different, ongoing cases: wrongful termination, the Department of Justice criminal suit which involved Mama but also four other employees that had similar stories for various corporations connected to Mama's employer, and the fraud securities investigation still ongoing with the Securities and Exchange Commission.

Freddie lasted longer at a job than she had previously, just to make sure we had some sort of income, but with Mama not working, Freddie and Kris really couldn't afford both apartments between them, even with Mama's savings and Freddie coming from "a moderately wealthy household" as she said. Still, Freddie kept busy with law-adjacent tasks. She filed to adopt me, which was something she knew all about and since Sawyer's rights had been terminated long ago, it was pretty easy. She also helped Kris get everything officially changed over to his actual name and gender, which was a far harder process and made my Amá curse loudly when she thought I wasn't around.

Just before Thanksgiving break, Lex and I got in a fight with four of our classmates. We'd been responsible and conciliatory, because Freddie's "no punching" rule rang just a bit louder than anyone else's. We'd told teachers about these kids being mean time and time again and no matter how often they were told, they refused to call Lex by the right name or pronouns.

And so when Sophie did it just one more time, I snapped and tackled her.

It seemed like a perfectly sensible action at the time, I told Freddie and Principal Harper, sulkily. Mama was at the lawyer's all day, which was fine with me because that way she'd just yell at me in private. Lex was sitting next to me, as we waited for her parents.

The two of us sank lower in our chairs as we waited, but the principal knew Amá from somewhere and they carried on a perfectly congenial conversation about mutual acquaintances. Somewhere in there, the principal congratulated Freddie on the impending adoption and that was nice, but it also made me feel that somehow mom-Freddie was going to be much scarier than friend-Freddie.

Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Mara showed up and slotted into chairs on the other side of Lex. They did most of the talking, once we got started, and they were furious. Lex basked in the glow of their affection, and I tried to note and count all the talking points the Maras had in common with Kris's rambling tirades. Apparently, Freddie also knew Mr. Mara, from back before when she’d been a lawyer. Mr. Mara could be really scary, when he wanted to be.

Eventually, we walked out of the office with a two day out of school suspension that would take us right up through the holiday for fighting, while the other four kids' suspension had been set at two weeks. They'd also demanded a personal private apology written from all the other kids. Everyone seemed pretty pleased with those arrangements, even the principal.

We all walked out of the school together. Out in the parking lot, Mrs. Mara paused and looked down at me. "Susan, I want to thank you for how good a friend you are to Lex here. We really appreciate you. Now, fighting is bad, but--"

"Some things are worth standing up for," I said, quoting Kris directly.

Lex beamed and hugged me.

"Would you all like to join us for Thanksgiving dinner?" Mr. Mara asked. "If you have no other plans? Kris is welcome too, of course"

Freddie grinned. "Well, Kris was going to cook, so I think you just spared us a fair bit of horror, all things considered. I'll check with Doris and Kris and let you know."

Mama wasn't pleased about my suspension, but Kris was. He and I went Christmas shopping one morning he didn't have to work, and while Mama had said there wasn't as much to go around, there was still enough to get Lex an adorable cloth babydoll that she would just adore and then the craft supplies for a secret project I wouldn't tell Kris about. We also got lots of presents to put under the community tree at Kris's work, because everyone agreed that that was far more important.

Kris loved Christmas more than anyone ever possibly could, but that just made shopping more fun. We'd dance maniacally to All I Want for Christmas is You whenever we heard it in the stores, each time getting progressively more and more crazy. Then Kris tried to explain irony to me, and I didn't understand, but it made him happy anyway.

With Mama's help, I made my gifts for Freddie and Kris: mosaic picture frames customized with Amá and Tío. We figured if I got them done now, it would be easier to keep them secret up through the big day. It was fun, getting to spend most of my suspension and holiday with Mama. She still seemed more tired than normal, but she made sure to take time to rest, so we got to cuddle a lot.

The Maras' place for Thanksgiving was fun. Lex and I watched the Parade and ate way too much candy before dinner. Kris had brought some people he knew from work, with the Maras' permission, and the adults all focused on cooking and talking about the state of the world. Mama couldn't stay on her feet very long, so Amá hovered around her until she joined us in front of the TV and waved Freddie off to help cook.

That's how I learned that before me, Mama used to plan events, and had actually helped organize this very parade more than ten years ago. Lex thought that was just the coolest thing, and Mama told us story after story about how things actually worked.

"You're not one for magic, are you?" Lex asked, after Mama had spent a very long time talking about how the practical effects were achieved on one of the fancier floats.

"Well," Mama said, glancing towards the kitchen. Freddie and Kris were dancing about while attempting to make mashed potatoes. "I believe in some magic. In love, in kindness, in joy. These are all… lovely intangible things that are a special sort of magic."

Lex nodded. "You know Ms. Walker, you're the first girl I know that's marrying another girl. That's cool."

"Uh huh," Mama said, distracted. She called out something in Spanish to the kitchen and the kitchen howled back with laughter.

Lex and I smirked at each other and went back to watching the parade.

When we all went around and said what we were thanking for, Freddie said she was thankful for medical care, even when it didn't always work as well as it could. Mama said she was grateful for lawyers, with an exaggerated wink (Freddie groaned, but everyone else laughed). Lex said she was grateful for her parents fighting for her. Kris said he was grateful for found families. Both of Lex's parents said they were thankful for her, and for how brave she was. Kris's friends were thankful for food and good company, and for new beginnings. I couldn't think of something to say, so I blurted out "lovely intangibles" and basked in the glow of Mama and Amá's matching, radiant smiles.

That night, back in our apartment, we put on a movie and I fell asleep in Freddie's lap as she and Mama talked low and slow about things in the future I couldn't quite follow.

None of us went shopping that Friday (except Kris), and Mama had no energy, so we drank hot chocolate and watched a Christmas movie. Then Kris got back from shopping and everything went wrong because he said he was moving out.

I screamed and yelled and cried and he just stood there, weathering me. Eventually he knelt down and grabbed my shoulders. "Susie, love. Moving out doesn't mean I'm not your friend. It doesn't mean we won't go shopping together or I won't come over so you can beat me at chess. It means I'll live somewhere I can afford, so your moms stop paying, in part, for an apartment they aren't using."

"My couch is still there, dumbass," Freddie muttered. Kris pretended not to hear her.

"But you live here," I said, hiccuping. "How will I know how to find you?"

He tapped my chest right above my heart, and then tapped his own heart. "Because I'm here. And you're here. And that means we'll always be able to find each other when we need to. That's what Christmas is all about, right?"

"Okay," I said. "Okay."

That night, Mama and Amá let me sleep in their bed and Amá held me extra tight.

Kris had to be out by the end of the month, so Freddie and I helped move him out. Vix couldn't make it down to help and Mama tired too quickly, so the three of us just worked steadily and tossed anything of Freddie's across the hall into our apartment as needed. Kris was actually taking our couch, so we could move the much more beloved yellow couch into the space, and that whole process took up half our time.

Couches are complicated.

After that, school started back up and everything seemed busier again. Mama and Amá managed to squeeze ring shopping in, because as much as they'd both planned out what they wanted to say (and never got around to saying), they hadn't gotten to that point yet. So they went together and I got to tag along. As I got distracted by all the very pretty, sparkly things, Freddie confessed just how many times she started and stopped, because Mama never quite seemed… completely unafraid, completely ready. She tapped Mama's side, where the broken ribs had been.

It seemed a weirdly personal conversation to have in a ring store, and it was nice of all the employees of the shop to be so aggressively careful in how they ignored us.

Mama just grabbed both of Freddie's hands and said, "You're not Sawyer, Fred. You're not him. And I'm ready for you."

Freddie exhaled, and seemed to half collapse against Mama's side. "I love you," she whispered.

Mama kept clinging to Freddie's hands. "And I love you."

It still seemed deeply impractical to do this in a jewelry store, so I shoved a tray at them and asked what they thought of the third from the top right. That got things back on track.

Later that night, I woke up thirsty and could hear Mama and Amá talking in that low, slow, careful way they always did while making decisions. I went back to sleep without getting any water.

"Susan," Mama said, the second Saturday in December, "we need to talk to you about something."

I put aside my homework and looked up at them. Amá seemed exceptionally nervous. She was doing short, little pacing steps in circles, but not really filling up the whole of the space.

"Freddie got offered a job."

They hadn't bothered with this every time before. Maybe because this would be the first new job after the adoption went through? I just nodded and waited for them to continue.

"It's with an agency that advocates for programmatic shifts in foster programs to protect impacted kids," Freddie said, the words zipping out of her full speed. "The agency works with both governing bodies and private agencies and sometimes directly with families. I'd be serving in an executive function in their legal analysis department. Not a lawyer, not really, but still… still my job." She sounded utterly awed, but she was still moving in uneasy circles behind Mama.

"It's based in Albany," Mama said. Freddie jerked to a stop, completely frozen again. "Because that's the capital city."

I frowned. "Near Vix?"

Mama nodded.

I looked down at my homework. "That's not here."

Freddie sat down, a sudden drop of energy settling in at the table. "No. It's not."

I tried to imagine Freddie moving out, just like Kris did, and my stomach knotted cold and icy and unsettled, but then I realized that that wasn't it… Freddie wouldn't be moving out. We would be moving out, together, all of us. I blinked several times, trying to settle that thought as it careened wildly through my brain. "So? We're not going to be here? All of us? Not just... you're not moving out?" I looked up at Freddie, half panicked.

Mama reached out and grabbed my hand. "No. No. We'd all go together." She also reached out blindly and found one of Freddie's hands, squeezing it tight. "It's a really good job," she said, "one which Freddie will be excellent at." Amá exhaled and slouched, closing her eyes as if in disbelief. "It pays well enough to live, and there's health insurance." Mama's fingers shook. "And right now you and I are on an extended COBRA plan which is expensive and will be running out soon and circumstances such as they are…"

I nodded. Then I swallowed, and nodded again. "Will… we be able to come back and visit? And see Kris and Lex and Cleo and everyone?"

Mama sagged too. "Yeah, mijita. We'll visit."

"Okay," I said, shakily. "Okay."

"The job starts January 3rd," Freddie said, softly. "So that's our timeline."

"For moving?"

"Yes," Mama said.

"And getting married," Freddie asked, "because of the health insurance."

I blinked at them.

Mama let go of my hand and grabbed Freddie's shoulder. Suddenly, she was grinning again, "So what do you think about a Christmas wedding?"

"...that's in two weeks," I pointed out, completely unnecessarily.

They both laughed, bright and lovely and only edged with the littlest bit of fear.

Christmas it was.

Kris was going to be thrilled.

If I had thought we were busy before, that had nothing on the hustle and bustle of trying to finish planning a wedding and move four hours away all in a three week time span while still managing the last few days of school, work, and doctors. Thankfully, Vix offered her second duplex to us for rent for at least the immediate future, if not indefinitely. Which was great, but then we needed to figure out how to buy a car too.

I told Lex as soon as possible, going over to her apartment after school one day and explaining everything. She cried and cried and cried and then ran into her room, leaving me standing alone with her mother. Mrs. Mara gave me an oatmeal raisin cookie and tried to talk Lex into coming back out to say goodbye, but Lex didn't want to.

I tried to understand. I put her present down on their kitchen table, because I knew she wouldn't have wanted to open it at school, and went home.

Amá was home and hugged me very tight and reminded me about my cell phone and how friendships can grow and change, even though that process sometimes really hurts. I still cried myself to sleep.

Lex wasn't in school the day after that, but she was the following day, our last day. We stared at each other with matching tearstained eyes and then she shoved a misshapen present into my hands and ran away. I put the present in my backpack and tried to focus on all the last day things, all the final goodbyes.

Principal Harper stopped by our classroom to wish us well for the holidays, and specifically asked me to wish Freddie good luck at the new job, which is how I learned that the job had been recommended to Freddie during their conversation after Lex's and my fight which just… just… didn’t quite seem fair, given that I had to leave Lex behind.

Kris, thankfully, refused to treat anything like a goodbye. He arranged for us to use the big community room at his workplace in the evening, as long as we helped clean up after the Christmas morning soup kitchen and did all the rearrangement ourselves. Vix was ordained for wedding purposes, and had been planning on visiting her brother anyway.

The Maras, Tía Cleo, and so many friends came wandering out of the woodwork, all willing to help however they could.

Mama, Tia Cleo, and I went dress shopping, and I spun in gleeful circles while they both laughed. Freddie, who'd never been married before, wanted to wear white. Mama, who had, wasn't sure, but she'd kissed Freddie slowly, carefully, and lovingly, and said she'd find something that worked.

Freddie joked that she'd be just as happy if Mama showed up in her birthday suit.

Freddie's parents agreed, under protest, to come to the city for the wedding. Her brother (I hadn't even known she had a brother) was flying in from Los Angeles, and Freddie was gleefully excited about one of those reunions, if not the other.

When we weren't working on wedding work, we packed. And then Julian arrived, fresh off a red-eye flight cross country and ready and willing to police any slightly inappropriate comment his mother might say. He stayed at Kris's new place, and they bonded over weird food and the holiday spirit.

The Gaileys were staying at a hotel, and we all went to Kris's apartment for a Christmas Eve dinner that doubled as a wedding rehearsal. Our apartment was essentially all packed up. Mr. Gailey was very funny. He took me aside for a very serious conversation about how he'd never been an abuelo before, but that he'd do his very best, and we both ended up in giggles. Mrs. Gailey was perfectly pleasant, but not particularly eager about the whole thing.

After the elder Gaileys left, the other adults had a bit too much eggnog and we all played charades until I started to fall asleep.

Mama took me home. Freddie stayed in the already overcrowded Kris's apartment, because they wanted to observe some traditions. I just thought they were being silly, especially when Mama said she wasn't really looking forward to sleeping in their bed alone. I crawled into bed with her and she pressed a kiss to my temple.

"You happy, mija?"

I nodded. "If you were… if you were all healthy I'd be the happiest I could ever be."

She clutched me tighter. "Don't you worry about me, Susie, I'll get better."

"You better," I whispered, drifting off into sleep.

Mama gave me a present, in the early morning, before anyone should be awake, but we were spending all day at the center so we had to be awake. It was a little silver necklace, with a pendant with three interlacing circles. "One for you. One for me. One for your Amá." I hugged her tight. I gave her a bracelet that I’d made, special just for her.

I opened Lex's gift too, and hugged the book on famous women chess players tight too. Then I texted her to tell her how much I liked it. After that, I got dressed and grabbed the bag with my wedding outfit. Mama managed to down a cup of coffee, barely stopped looking at her phone, and we started for the community center.

Kris, Vix, Julian, Freddie, and some of Kris's coworkers were already there when we got there. When we walked in, Freddie whooped and ran over to us. She caught me up in a bone shattering hug and spun me around in the air, laughing. As soon as my feet touched the ground, she snatched Mama up and kissed her for forever, bending her back at the waist too, just for the show of it. There were only so many traditions it was practical to uphold, after all. As everyone cheered, Freddie pulled them both back upright.

Then she kissed Mama's nose and said, too quietly for everyone else, "We're getting married today."

Mama grinned. "And Merry Christmas to you too, Frederica."

"Ah c'mon," Julian called, "let's get to work. There's some actually important stuff happening, lovebirds."

Everyone seemed particularly jubilant. I helped Vix set up tables and chairs and then, at six, when people started trickling in, met them at the door with directions and Merry Christmases. Kris donned a Santa suit and raced around, giving small packages out to everyone and singing as loud as he could any song that came to mind.

Vix's favorite was Rudolph, which is how I learned she'd settled on Vix as the shortened form of Victoria only after her parents completely outlawed Vixen. It was both a terrifying and delightful thing to learn.

Those morning hours were barely controlled Christmas chaos, full of food and every so often someone new hearing there would be a wedding later and another swirl of glee racing through everyone. I felt on cloud nine all morning long.

The breakfast lasted until ten, and then it took another hour to do normal teardown work. The Maras showed up at eleven with trays of subs and many Merry Christmases, but most importantly, a cautiously smiling Lex, in a sparkling red and green velvet dress. We sat next to each other while eating lunch.

"I'm sorry," Lex said. "You're my best friend and it's scary to see you go away. But I shouldn't have been so mean and refused to talk to you."

"I'm scared to," I said, after checking to make sure neither Mama nor Amá were going to hear. "Thank you for the book!"

"And the doll!" Lex said, brightening. "Do you want to name her? That way, whenever I can miss you, I'll just hug her and know it's an extra special thing you've left behind. And we can still text and visit and stuff"

We brainstormed names for the rest of lunch, easy and comfortable friends again. We decided on Vera, after a chess player Freddie had told me all about.

After lunch, we broke down the final tables and set up a wide, sweeping, semicircle of chairs. Mama hadn't wanted an aisle, and Freddie hadn't wanted to be given away, so they'd walk in towards each other from opposite sides of the room.

Kris had nearly cried at the symbolism of it all, even though it was his suggestion, but he was just absolutely overflowing with Christmas cheer. Freddie told him in no uncertain terms that the Santa suit had to be gone for the ceremony, but the mini-reception afterwards would be fine.

Even with all the hands helping, we managed to run late. We all split and hurried into the different dressing rooms laid out for us, the final step. Those already in their wedding outfits, which was mostly just the Maras, split the remaining task between them. Mrs. Mara was our photographer, and scurried through the whole building to capture the event. Mr. Mara volunteered as usher, and mostly just provided babysitting services once Cleo showed up and Carter and Leslie and Lex had nothing to do.

Cleo, Mama, and I all got ready together. My dress was a bright, sparkly red, and it twirled brilliantly when I spun around. I had sparkling silver kitten heels and a silver tiara too. Tía Cleo curled my hair and pinned it up perfectly and sprayed it all so it would stay done. My new necklace was perfect too.

Not one for the colors of the season, Cleo's dress was a soft black, accented with silvery embroidery. She looked impossibly collected and impossibly calm, which is a good thing, because Mama was an absolute wreck.

She flittered and worried and paced, which was absolutely a bad habit she'd learned from Freddie. She ran what ifs out wildly, insensibly, and then had to sit down because she'd started having trouble breathing. Cleo and I used that opportunity to start painting her nails, which would keep her captive and still for at least a little bit.

Mrs. Mara, of course, chose that moment to come by, so definitely got greeted by the wild doe eyes of fear radiating off Mama.

Cleo just snorted. "That Gailey girl doing any better?"

"Not even a little," Mrs. Mara said, laughing. She had me get up and dance around a bit, taking pictures of just me. We had the Trans-Siberian Orchestra playing in the background, which was probably more conducive to the moment than whatever Kris had managed to set the music to in the other dressing room.

Tía Cleo moved on to working on Mama's hair.

"Can I go see Amá quick, please?"

"I'll take her," Mrs. Mara said, "and bring her right back. Get a few good pictures?"

Mama nodded.

Mrs. Mara whisked me away into an entirely different kind of chaos.

Kris and Julian were both half dressed in shimmering suits that looked black at first glance but really ended up shining a dark green in the right light. They were dancing around with hairbrushes as microphones, screeching along to Michael Buble. Vix lounged across two chairs, resplendent in a bright green suit with red and silver accents. And Freddie paced back and forth, back and forth across the room, ignoring everything going on around her and obviously not even started on the process of getting ready.

Vix saw me first. "Susan!" she said, sitting up.

Freddie whirled around and half ran up to me. She stopped short, then dropped down to my height. "You look amazing, nenita."

I hugged her. "You don't. Yet."

Everyone else howled with laughter, even Mrs. Mara. Freddie was very careful not to mess up my hair, which was nice of her, but she hugged me tight and I could feel the smile in it. "Well, I guess I need to fix that. Do you want to do my hair while you're here? None of these useless folk want to."

I stared at her. "But I'm no good at hair."

"Well," Kris said, dead serious. "I guess we're shit out of luck."

Julian broke out into giggles, and Vix threw a lipstick tube at him.

"What about Lex?" I asked.

"Now that," Freddie said, "is the kind of practical problem solving I would expect from a Walker woman."

I stuck my nose up, grinned as wide as I could, and said, "From a Gailey, you mean?"

Freddie burst into tears. From the way Vix, Julian, and Kris all groaned, it was not the first time. Kris muttered something about going to get Lex and disappeared. I just hugged my mother again until she managed to pull herself together. By then, Kris had reappeared with an absolutely giddy Lex in his wake.

"Are you sure, Ms. Gailey? Are you really, really sure?"

Amá wiped away the last of her tears. "I'm all yours, Lex. Hair away."

I stayed while Lex tamed Freddie's hair into some semblance of an updo. Mrs. Mara was quick to keep it from getting too crazy, and the end result was a practically messy but aesthetically wild look that suited Freddie just fine. Mrs. Mara willingly looked the other way while Lex and I snuck some glitter into her hair so she sparkled extra special.

After that, I went back to Mama and Cleo, with a whispered message from Freddie and a package pressed into my hands. Cleo was putting final touches on Mama's makeup.

I slipped into the room and sat down next to Mama. She rested a hand on my shoulder. I handed her the box and whispered, "Freddie said to tell you she says hi, and that she loves you, and to give you these. This time around, the coffee staining was intentional."

Mama opened the box to a pair of white stockings, with brown splotches. She burst out laughing. "Okay," she said, "I'm ready. Is it four yet?"

Cleo just grinned. "Finally. C'mon, let's get you dressed."

Mama's dress was wonderful. It was indeed white, but it had an overlay that hinted enough at silver to make the whole ensemble read more silver than white. The dress had small, floaty sleeves, was gathered at the waist, and flowed smoothly down to a short train that trailed behind her. She also had a matching tiara to mine, although much larger and fancier. We were a very silvery group, when the effect was all together.

Mrs. Mara reappeared and took some staged photos of us. "Don't think we're getting anything but last minute shots of the other crew together," she said, while taking a few pictures of just Mama. "But I still believe they'll be ready in time. Somehow."

"They'll be ready," Mama said.

Mrs. Mara left, and we settled in to wait for another several minutes before it was time to get into position. After what felt like ages, Cleo said it was time to go, and we left for our assigned side of the community center's main room. I peaked in, and there were people!

I could see Mr. and Mrs. Gailey up at the front. Vix was already center stage, a bright grin affixed on her face. There were friends and neighbors and way more people than I'd have ever thought would show up to a Christmas day wedding. Then the music changed and Cleo started to process.

I was supposed to count until forty and then follow her, but Mama leaned down and kissed my ear and whispered just how much she loved me, so I lost track. Panicked, I peaked out again and watched for Kris to appear, which he did, albeit half hidden behind Julian. I hurried through the door and tried to make it look like I had my timing right, but I'm sure it was immediately obvious to everyone that I didn't.

After the longest walk of my life, I eventually got to my spot beside Cleo, just next to where Mama would stand. Kris winked at me, and I just looked back at him, completely blanking on how one actually stands still.

The music changed again, and a soft instrumental cover of silver bells started playing.

I would've had to turn around to see Mama walk in, which I wouldn't do because I was supposed to stand still, but that just meant I got to watch Freddie. Tall, gorgeous, self-assured Freddie, who walked across rooms like she owned them, who has so many walks in so many styles. Her dress was white, whiter than Mama's, and lacier too. It had no sleeves, and flowed in gathered ripples down to brush levelly across the floor. To match, a crown of silver leaves rested on her glittering head. And she walked, a new, unfamiliar Freddie-walk, somewhere between confident and worried, ready and scared, self-contained and ready to burst out with joy.

Her face didn't change when she saw Mama, walking towards her too, but it was already just full of love and readiness and it lacked any of the cautious hesitation of her walk.

They didn't quite manage to time their walks perfectly. Mama reached the little stage first, so Freddie opened up her stride and practically bounded across her bridesmen to join her.

"Well," Vix said, "Merry Christmas, everyone!"

Everyone laughed. Kris whistled a few lines to jingle bells, and Freddie peered over her shoulder at him.

Vix sped through an introduction, full of good cheer, and then lingered on the liturgy, walking Mama and Amá through the call and response of a wedding. They were soft with each other, focused on each other, and kept shifting their grip on each other's hands as if their fingers were dancing together. Freddie's fingers played with the bracelet I'd made Mama, twirling it back and forth over Mama's wrist.

Mama's "I do" was soft and clear, like spring water.

Freddie's "I do" was shaky and excited, lightning jumping from a cloud.

And then they got to vows, everything all out of order because they wanted it to be so.

Freddie went first. "Doris, I met your daughter first." She looked around Mama and winked at me. I blushed. "She didn't play tennis but she did willingly learn how to play chess, and got very good, very quickly. And when I see her play, analysis first, caution and action in balanced measure, I see so much of you. I see your bravery. I see your mind at ready work, and all your lovely, practical, constant common sense. I see all the love and care you extend to her and," she had to pull in an extra breath to slow down a bit, "I'm so lucky that that has been extended to me too. You are utterly exceptional, Doris. From your stupidly expansive sock collection to every little heart beat, I love you. And Susan, I love you too, this wonderful pair of amazing people, who I just happened to move next door to, who just happened to catch a tennis ball, to offer me soup, and to become the biggest, brightest, and best part of me. I love you both very much. I'm so ready for you."

Mama wasn't quite breathing right when she started, trying to bite back hiccuping tears. "Frederica Elinor Gailey, coffee stains and all." I laughed and then realized no one else got the joke and stopped, horrified. Freddie merely beamed. "Thank you. For all your help, support, and protection. For all your care. You love freely and with such force and blinding strength. Thank you for opening your heart to me and my daughter, and being such a rock, a foundation, on which to rest. You are my loveliest intangible. Safety. Strength. Kindness. Joy. I love you, and I'm ready for you."

They were clinging to each other, hands finally still.

In the still, quiet heartbeats that followed, I started to cry, because everything was just so very good. Cleo rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Well," Kris said, into the silence, "I've got your rings here, if you're ready."

"Gimme," Freddie said, snatching them from his hands. She and Mama exchanged the rings smoothly, quickly, and only partially guided by Vix's voice. Then they were done and pitching towards each other with such focus and need that they barely lasted until the end of Vix's eager pronouncement before they were tied together too tightly to notice the rest of us.

Kris whooped a wild "Merry Christmas," and then darted across the stage, behind them, and picked me up and whirled me around in the air. That broke me free of tears and I laughed and laughed and laughed. And then when Mama and Amá were finally done and Kris put me down I launched myself at them and they both caught me and we all held each other tight.

There wasn't much of a reception. It was Christmas, after all, and people dispersed to families and dinners. Kris put on a shuffled playlist of Christmas favorites and Mama and Amá held a quick receiving line to thank everyone for coming and wish them all a Merry Christmas. Lex, Carter, Leslie, and I started a game of tag, racing through the room after each other and generally causing chaos. Mrs. Mara made sure to stop and get pictures of all four of us together, and then me with just Carter and Leslie, and then me with just Lex. Lex and I had fun playing models.

And then they were done with the receiving line so Mrs. Mara hurried me over and demanded pictures with the whole wedding party and then there was a rush and crush of taking picture after picture. Kris vanished halfway through and came back with his Santa costume on, so then we had to retake all the pictures with him again so we had both outfits. Amá called him extra and laughed and laughed and laughed.

At one point, Mama's hand landed on my shoulder and her fingers clenched just a bit too tight, so I could tell she needed to sit down. We left Amá and Mrs. Mara with the elder Gaileys and Julian for pictures with just that side of the family, and Mama pulled me into her lap as she sat down.

She wrapped her arms around me and held tight. I leaned back against her shoulder and listened to her breathing until it lost that horrible staccato and settled slowly into a more natural rhythm.

Then Amá was done. She came bouncing over and kissed Mama over my head and then kissed my forehead and whispered something in Spanish to Mama which I heard but didn't understand, but Mama blushed bright red so it was probably something I wasn't even supposed to understand. "Ready to head home?" Amá asked, still giddy but also very good at telling when Mama was too tired.

"I want to dance first," Mama said, a stubborn little lilt already infusing her voice as if she expected a fight. "One dance. It's my wedding."

Amá melted. "Okay. C'mere." She pulled Mama up and over to an empty side of the room. I ran over to Kris and told him to put on it's the most wonderful time of the year. It had always been Mama's favorite, even when she wouldn't admit to liking Christmas songs at all. He skipped straight to that song, and everyone still there let the buzz and chaos of the room settle in order to watch them sway together. And if they moved a little too slowly and if Amá held on a little too tightly just to keep Mama upright, no one said anything. Mama's smile was radiant anyway.

Kris stood next to me, swaying back and forth, before leaning down to be right at my height. "You're good for them, you know that, right? You're so good to your mother and so good to Freddie."

"My mothers," I corrected, nodding, still focused on watching them dance together. The song swelled and swelled.

"Yeah," Kris said, "that. And I know change can be hard and scary and you've got a great big adventure coming up here soon, and I want you to remember just how much everyone loves you. How much your mothers love you. How much I love you. You keep being a star, right, Susan Gailey?"

That got my attention. I beamed up at him.

He beamed right back, Santa hat and beard and all. Then he winked at me and Mama and Amá were there and we all went to change back into our public transport appropriate clothes and I hugged Lex one last time and everyone shooed the three of us away even though there was a lot of clean up we should've helped with. They let me keep wearing the tiara on though.

Tía Cleo had offered to have me sleepover, as had the Maras, but Amá was insistent that it would be the three of us Christmas evening and that that would be just perfect.

We got back to the mostly empty apartment and ate leftover takeout for dinner out of the cartons and Mama and Amá told stories from when they were little girls and when I was too tired to stay awake any longer, Amá picked me up and carried me to bed.

Two days later, we left the city in a rental car, packed full of boxes. Vix's house was both familiar and foreign, and so we had to be intentional about making space for the yellow couch and slotting ourselves into the new home. We spent New Year's Eve looking through the wedding pictures Mrs. Mara sent us, picking out all our favorites.

I tried to make it all the way until midnight, but didn't quite manage it. Mama woke me up, and I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes to watch the ball start to fall and fall and fall until the clock switched forward and Mama and Amá were kissing each other in the hallway and everything was perfect: a little miracle amidst a miraculous year.

I grabbed my phone and texted Kris the only thing I could think to say, because to him, it was always that day, every day of the year: Merry Christmas!

His echoing reply came back, right away, and I drifted back to sleep heavy with the love, kindness, and joy that were wrapped so tightly around me.

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