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The New York sky was dark outside the apartment. The noise of the neighbourhood, that could so easily get on Carson and Greta’s nerves the rest of the year, just added to the ambiance of the evening.
“Car,” Greta managed between the deep kisses Carson was taking from her all-too-willing mouth. “People are going to be here any minute.”
“I don’t care,” Carson said against Greta’s lips, diving in for another kiss.
Greta tipped her head back and laughed, not trying in the least to remove Carson’s arms from around her waist. “Hey, we only just got our clothes back on.”
Carson grinned her quietly wolfish smile. She knew better. She knew Greta liked to take her time to primp when the occasion called for it. She knew she had stolen more than an hour to talk and laugh and touch, when Greta normally would have been curling her hair and trying on the fourth outfit of the night before company arrived.
“I can’t help it.” Carson moved back to take in Greta’s appearance. She’d done a decent job not mussing up too much of Greta’s fresh hair and makeup. She looked beautiful in her maroon pencil skirt and flowy, long-sleeved white blouse.
“Try,” Greta half-admonished. “You know Shirley will be early, I’m surprised she’s not here—”
The doorbell rang. Greta looked at her watch. “See?” She checked her hair and lipstick in the small mirror on the wall by the front door before shaking her head at Carson. It miffed her slightly that looking at Carson, no one would never know she’d had three orgasms in the last hour. Greta still felt flushed.
“Shirl!” Greta said as she opened the door. “Come in! Come in! We can’t wait to hear everything about the engagement.”
“You two! Eek!” Shirley let out a high-pitched scream that Greta and Carson both tried to prevent themselves from flinching at. “This place is so great, and so…you!”
Neither Carson nor Greta knew if that was a compliment or an insult when it came from Shirley. They shared a look as Greta ushered Shirley past the entrance into the living room.
Another knock at the door saved them both, but this time, the door opened immediately as Joey let herself right in. “Goodbye, 1943!” she called as she slammed the door behind her.
“Joey!” Greta yelled as she ran into a bear hug. Usually, Joey was perpetually late to everything, but Greta had asked her to try to be on time for this evening’s festivities.
Jo gave her a smirk and looked around. “Wow, the place looks...”
Greta slapped her on the arm. “What?”
“Well, I guess I expected more than a closet.”
Carson walked up to greet Jo. They shared a commiserating look. “Space? Who needs space?”
“You’re not helping,” Greta told Carson.
“That’s not what you were saying earlier,” Carson said with a smirk, bumping her hip against Greta.
Jo raised an eyebrow, impressed at the confidence that had grown in Carson in the few short months since the season ended.
Jess, Lupe, and Esti walked through the door next. Together, as usual.
“Look at this joint!” Jess exclaimed. She walked up to Greta and Carson and hugged them both together.
Lupe came up behind her and punched her arm. “Be less of an idiot.” She hugged Greta and did her faux shoulder check into Carson as was their usual greeting.
“I thought you were bringing the new girl?” Carson asked.
Esti gestured with her flat hand across her neck that Carson should drop it.
Carson held up both hands. “Ohh. Sorry.”
Carson opened beers for everyone who wanted one, which included Shirley, to her surprise. Carson handed her the bottle with a grin. She was entertaining the girls with the harrowing tales of their clandestine first few months in New York when Greta offered to grab more drinks. Carson saw her slip out of the living room. As soon as her story was done, she gave a quick excuse that likely nobody believed, and met Greta in the kitchen.
“It’s so good to see everyone again,” Carson said as she wrapped her arms around Greta from behind.
Greta clasped her hands around Carson’s and leaned back into her, so that Carson could tuck her chin on Greta’s shoulder. “If we make it out of the house, it will be a New Year’s miracle.”
Carson squeezed her tight and breathed her in. “Hey,” she began as Greta turned to face her. “You, me, the Peaches? Whatever we do, it’ll be great.” She leaned up and pressed her lips firmly against Greta’s, sighing with contentment.
It was only a little over a month ago that she’d shown up at Greta’s apartment, with a few bags in hand. After the season ended, Carson had decided not to go back to Lake Valley. The tiny town was all she’d known before joining the league, and at first, it had felt like she’d only be allowed so much freedom before she’d find herself crawling back. Carson knew, in September, that she needed some time for herself. Time to see herself without Greta. But it was being without her that tugged at Carson’s skin.
She’d tried being with other women. Most of them reminded her of Greta. In the end, none of them could take Greta’s place. The fire of her red curls sitting just below her shoulders—her hair had grown since the summer, and she’d recently got it trimmed. Her hold, how her arms felt when Carson moved into her embrace. Warm, almost an aura that surrounded her. It pulled Carson in and caught her, like an easy pop fly.
Carson had spent time travelling in the months she was apart from Greta. Seeing places she’d never thought she’d see. Greta sent her letters, which was how Carson knew where to find her when the time was right. After spending some time in Las Vegas, Carson boarded a train to New York. To her new home.
Greta was shocked when she opened the door and saw Carson. There’d been no letter, no post card to let her know that Carson would be coming. That was how Carson wanted it to be, a surprise. But Greta pulled her into a hug, and the embrace turned to heated kisses as soon as the apartment door was closed. They abandoned the bags and moved into the living room. Hours went on, until Carson was lying on Greta’s chest on the couch, both of them naked, spent.
If Carson was completely honest, it wasn’t the most comfortable couch in the world, but at that moment, she didn’t care. She was with Greta.
Was with her, still. Stealing moments in their own kitchen while their teammates chatted and laughed only a few feet away. Carson let the kiss end, and pressed her cheek into Greta’s shoulder. In her arms, even the chaos in the living room was somehow drowned out.
“You’re right,” Greta said, brushing her thumbs over the backs of Carson’s hands. “This is all that matters now, huh?”
Carson hummed into her shoulder. “You know, I don’t mind staying here tonight. Not going anywhere.”
The Peaches were their family, and Carson wanted nothing more than to spend the beginning of the new year with them. But it was Greta who sent out the invitations, addressed from the apartment they’d made their own in the month since Carson arrived. Carson had added more personality, pictures on the walls, while Greta looked for the perfect decorations, a cut-crystal ashtray for the coffee table, a lamp that glowed with a lovely yellow light. The apartment wasn’t what it was, when Carson first walked through the door.
“But,” Carson continued, letting her hands fall to Greta’s waist and pulling her closer, “I also know that you want to see the ball drop. I’m sure the others would like that, too.”
Greta hooked her arms around Carson’s neck and tilted her head to the side. “I love you, do you know that?”
Carson giggled. “I love you, too. Do you know that?”
“I think I’ve always known.” Greta bent down to kiss her, but the sound of early fireworks made Carson jump back. “You okay there?”
“Yeah. Yeah. That seemed close. I guess it caught me off guard.” Carson glanced over her shoulder into the living room. And for a moment, she watched the others, her team.
The sharp ding of the egg timer Greta had set earlier reminded them they still had company to entertain. Carson had already handed around the drinks, and now the food was ready.
“Carson, can you get me a plate to put the hors d'oeuvres on?”
Carson snapped to attention, doing as she was told. Greta donned an oven mitt and pulled the baking sheet out of the oven. Every time Carson thought that she had Greta all figured out, Greta went and surprised her. She didn’t know why she expected Greta to be a bad cook, although Greta had never really seemed the domestic type. But here she was, pulling out all the stops for their friends and teammates. Better her than me, Carson thought, her memory of the failed conversation pie she had made for Dove still fresh in her mind.
Carson loved seeing Greta like this, in her element, full of joy and laughter. It was so rare to see Greta natural and relaxed. She was always the first to keep up appearances in the outside world. Her hair, her makeup, and her clothes were a kind of armour. It was more than that, though. It was the calculated way Greta sized up every situation and made herself smaller. She always made sure she fit. Except for now. Not when she was with the team. Not when she was with Carson. She was so much more at ease with herself. It was beautiful.
Greta filled the serving plate and Carson made to leave the kitchen and rejoin their friends. Suddenly Greta blocked her way. “Not yet,” she said. “You’ve gotta pay the toll first.”
Carson stood up on her tiptoes, careful not to drop the plate and gave Greta a kiss on the cheek. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
Greta bit her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows in response and Carson knew what she was thinking.
“Later,” they both said at the same time, smiling.
Greta watched Carson as she went into the tiny living room. She knew she should get out there and play hostess too, but she allowed herself this moment. She wanted to remember everything about it: the laughter of the people who knew and loved them, the festive atmosphere, but mostly Carson. Carson’s laugh, her radiant smile, the way she looked at Greta. Greta didn’t know it was even possible to be this happy, to have this life with the woman she loved. Maybe Jo was right. Some things were changing.
“Hey Bird! Get in here!” Jo yelled.
“Coming!” Greta responded as she quickly joined the team in the living room.
It was no easy feat fitting everyone into such a small space, but at least the normally chilly apartment warmed up quickly. There wasn’t a single seat left. Jo had taken the wingback chair and Esti was curled in the armchair. Lupe sprawled across most of the couch, with Shirley primly sitting at the far end. Jess was sitting on the kitchen table, her feet on the rungs of a ladderback chair. Greta sighed in resignation and gave Carson, who stood looking adorably lost in their own living room, a wave with her finger towards the coffee table.
Greta didn’t have to see Carson put the food down as she found a spot on the floor near the bookshelf; the sudden rush of movement behind her and pleased exclamations were indication enough. She sat against the wall, her feet curled delicately under her. As hungry as everyone was, Carson would be lucky to escape the throng.
Yes, there she was. Greta gave her a soft, adoring smile and held out a hand, summoning Carson to the floor beside her. Carson settled right against her, a warm hand on her knee.
“I think those are a hit.”
“All food is a hit.”
“But even Shirley likes them.” Carson nodded to her friend, who was trying to eat a small tart that was obviously still too hot. Jess, too, had grabbed a handful that was too hot, and was juggling the pastry from one hand to the other. She fell onto Lupe’s legs on the couch, and the two of them started a shoving match over the middle cushion, ending up with Jess tucked against Lupe’s shoulder.
Greta cast her eyes around the room and felt almost overwhelmed at the sense of ‘home’. This felt a bit like the night at The Office, before the raid, the first—the only—time she’d been able to be with Carson openly. But unlike that night, she had her friends here and... and she felt much safer. She and Jo had never stayed in one spot long enough to set down roots, so having people travel to see her, to gather for a special occasion in the home she’d made with Carson, was something new. Something to treasure.
Sometimes it scared her, if she was honest. If she dared to have something she valued, she knew how much more it would hurt to have it taken away.
The hand on her thigh tightened, bringing her attention back to Carson.
“Are you all right in there?”
Greta just took a second to enjoy looking at Carson. Carson always seemed to know when Greta was getting lost in her thoughts. Perhaps the difference was that Carson came back. She fought for them. So did the Peaches; after all, they were here. Her own family may have been awful, but the family she had here—they were different. Real.
“Never better.” Greta covered Carson’s hand on her thigh with her own, lacing their fingers together. She finally gave her attention to Shirley, who’d been carefully placing her left hand on her knee all evening, the tiny solitaire sparkling on her finger. “Hey Shirl, we’re invited to the wedding, right?”
“Oh! I get to be the flower girl!” Jo decided, lifting a finger to volunteer, much to Shirley’s wide-eyed horror. She couldn’t even object; her mouth was still full of Greta’s hors d’oeuvres.
“I don’t think you could handle the responsibility, De Luca.” Lupe snickered from her spot tucked behind Jess, earning her a poke from Esti. Poor Shirley was inundated with quick-fire questions from everyone—where did she meet him? When did she know? How did he ask? What was he like in the sack?
“What about baseball, Shirl?” Carson asked, and everyone fell silent. Once a coach, always a coach, it seemed.
Finally Shirley spoke, fiddling with her nails. “I want to play, but I’m not sure... I don’t know if I can.”
There was a solemn silence at the thought of their teammate not coming back next season. Greta was the one to break it. “You will, though; you’re a Peach. We stick together.”
“And if not, we’ll break the guy’s legs,” Jess added, with alarming nonchalance.
“That’s very…sweet, very sweet of you,” Shirley said, with a tense grin at Jess.
“We’re never going to make it downtown if we don’t get going,” Greta said, clapping her hands to relieve the tension.
“Boo, downtown,” Joey said. “Come on, Bird, you know we won’t be welcome there. Not really. Let’s stay in.”
Jess and Lupe clinked the necks of their beers in a toast to that, and Esti said, “We will need música. Radio?”
Carson grimaced. She wished they could afford one, but she hadn’t found a job since she’d moved in with Greta, and while Greta’s work with Vivienne Hughes’ company was well-paid for an unmarried woman, it didn’t stretch to luxuries.
But Greta was quick to jump to her feet and head for the window. She forced it open, letting in a swirl of chilly air, which was welcome after the stifling heat of so many people in the small space. With the window open, the sound of jazz music filtered in. “Noisy neighbours,” Greta said. “Never thought I’d be grateful to be hearing their music at all hours of the night.”
A new song came on as the jazz song finished—Billie Holliday. Carson stood up and held out her hand to Greta, who stepped gracefully into her arms, a soft smile on her lips.
“Look at these two,” Lupe commented. “Still can’t get enough of each other. Hasn’t it been months?”
“Yeah, like they aren’t the ‘noisy neighbours’ at least half the time,” Jess said with a grin, ignoring Greta’s death glare. “Come on, Esti. Let’s dance.” Jess grabbed Esti’s hand and swung her into a rather more vigorous dance step than the cluttered living room could stand.
Jo bowed low and offered a gentlemanly hand to Shirley, who looked wide-eyed and frozen for a split second before she tentatively put her hand in Jo’s. Jo put a hand on Shirley’s hip, but kept a respectful distance between their bodies as she led Shirley in a waltz that didn’t match the song’s rhythm in the least. Lupe, sprawled on the couch with her beer, said, “I’d cut in but I don’t see even one of you who actually knows how to dance.”
Carson grinned up at Greta. “Is this okay?” she asked quietly. They’d danced alone, often, but in the hot, stuffy room, with other bodies brushing past them—even if it was all their friends—she thought Greta might need to take a step back.
Greta shook her head, a brief gesture meant for Carson only. Her hand on Carson’s shoulder slid down to the small of her back and pulled her closer, so that their bodies moulded closer together. Carson inhaled quickly and Greta smiled tenderly at her. “It’s okay. More than okay.”
Without any space, and only the faint sound of the neighbour’s radio to dance by, there wasn’t much they could do but sway in each other’s arms. In other words, it was absolutely perfect. Carson brought Greta’s hand to her mouth and kissed her knuckles. They missed the change of songs, and Esti pulling Lupe into the dance; Jess and Jo fighting over who should lead; Shirley accepting a rather closer dance from Lupe than Jo had given her. So it was with complete ease that Carson pressed up and brushed a warm kiss to Greta’s mouth, kissing her softly, and then not so softly as Greta’s lips parted for her.
They only broke apart at the sound of Lupe’s disgusted groan. “We didn’t all bring someone to neck with,” she said. “If we’re not going out, then no fair showing off.”
Greta smirked at Carson and leaned close one last time, to murmur against her ear, “Later for you,” and then, spinning out of Carson’s arms, said, “It must be nearly midnight.”
“Stop being such a grouch, Lu,” Jess called, trying to dip Jo and then laughing uproariously as they almost fell into a tangled heap. “Once we get back to Rockford they’re not going to be able to do this anymore, leave ’em be.”
Lupe screwed up her face, sour.
“Watch out, García, the wind’ll change and you’ll be stuck lookin’ like that forever.” Jo pointed at Lupe’s face, then screwed her own face up, mirroring the pitcher’s distaste.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck you all.” But there was no heat in it. Lupe spun Shirley out and away. Walked over and hip-checked Carson affectionately, before picking up a nearby drink and checking if it contained any liquor. “If it’s nearly midnight we better get some refills here, Shaw.”
Carson grinned. “You wanna give me a hand with the drinks, Lu?”
“Do I look like the help here?” Lupe paused, and held up a finger in warning when Jo opened her mouth to retort. “Don’t answer that, De Luca. You’re the host, Shaw, you get the drinks.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll get the drinks.” Carson glanced over at Greta, who was watching their interactions with a smirk curving her lips in the way that sent little tingles down Carson’s back. She gestured with her head towards the kitchen, and Greta nodded. Followed her out of the room.
As soon as they cleared the doorway to the kitchen Carson spun Greta around and pressed her up against the wall. “It’s later now, isn’t it?” she asked. She leaned up on her toes and was barely an inch away from Greta’s mouth when they heard a yell from the other room.
“Cut it out, lovebirds. I want a drink, you can kiss when the ball drops.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Greta’s lip twitched in amusement, and Carson laughed outright.
“All right, Lu,” Greta yelled back. “But no whining from you when we do.”
“Oh, for crying out loud…”
A chorus of laughter sounded from the other room, and then Jo called out, “Two minutes, Bird!”
“We’re hurrying, Joey!”
Greta opened the door of their icebox, and started passing bottles to Carson. Carson juggled four beer bottles in her arms, almost dropping the fifth when Greta tried to hand it to her. Greta rolled her eyes, chuckled fondly. “You take those out, I’ll bring the rest.”
They passed out the drinks, listened to the faint sound of the radio—and the much louder cheers from the street—call one minute, and then thirty seconds. They all crowded by the window to hear the countdown, and it seemed as though the whole neighbourhood had the same idea.
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven…”
Greta reached out and clasped Carson’s hand.
“Six. Five. Four. Three…”
Carson stepped away from the window, away from their teammates. Tugged Greta with her.
“Two. One.”
“Happy New Year!” Outside people were shouting, fireworks were going off, car horns were blaring on the street.
Carson was aware of the others jumping up and down, of them hugging each other and twirling around the room. But she only had eyes for Greta, who was staring right back at her.
“Happy New Year, Greta.” Low, and husky.
“Happy New Year, Carson.” Barely a whisper. Then Greta cupped Carson’s jaw with her hand. Angled Carson’s face up as she leaned down. Carson sighed contentedly as their lips met.
A salty drop landed into Carson's lips, while a tear rolled down her cheek. She looked up. Greta’s eyes were wet; they showed a multitude of emotions, thousands of memories drawing a crystal clear line under her iris. Greta smiled widely, trying to hold Carson as close as she could, while their tiny living room was filled with laughter and joy. The voices of their teammates joined the ones around the neighbourhood, exclaiming Happy New Year! over and over again. The sound of fireworks soon started to mix with the cheering, with the happy voices, with the pure and unbiased joy of their teammates and the rest of the city.
“Nineteen forty-four,” Greta said.
“Yeah.” Carson felt frozen, paralyzed, looking at Greta, trying to paint a perfect picture of it so she could remember it whenever she wanted. She had never felt this happy during a Christmas celebration, especially since her mother left. This was what happiness should look like. It was all new, all good, better than she could ever have imagined. Carson felt her heart full, so full of love, she didn't know what to do with it. Being here, in their small apartment, with her teammates and her loved one—her true family, in the end—was what a family should look like. No more judging looks, nor uncomfortable dinners and parties; just joy. Joy that could be shared and felt.
“Do you think it’s going to be a good year?” Greta whispered.
Carson had never seen Greta so hopeful. So willing to hope. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I do.”
Greta cried. For the first time in many, many years, she had someone else to share New Year with other than with Joey. No more the two of them alone, in a lost city somewhere across the States, in a crappy apartment or worse motel room. No more running away after spending a few months elsewhere. Everything was all right, as things should be. And she cried for happiness, she cried for joy, for having her—her Carson—in front of her, wishing her a happy New Year.
For an instant, everything froze in time for both of them. Neither of them could have known 1943 would take such a turn. They couldn't have imagined how much their lives would change. For a moment, they tried to grasp as much as they could from that moment, as many details they could remember. The Peaches in their home, their first Christmas together, them being able to welcome the new year together, for the first time. A fresh chance to start over, to leave all the hurting, all the bad things, in the past.
“¡Feliz Año Nuevo!” Esti shouted out the window, making everyone laugh, while Lupe shook her head.
“Happy New Year, everyone!” Jo grabbed both Greta and Carson by the arms. “We thought it would be good to go to the rooftop to see the fireworks, wanna come?”
“Oh, sure.” Greta smiled, brushing the tears from her eyes. “That would be lovely.”
All of them grabbed their coats and climbed the stairs up the last floor. Greta opened the door leading to the roof and all gasped, marvelled at the sight. Esti ran with Jess and Lupe, while Shirley stood a bit behind them, trying to warn them about getting too close to the edge. Carson wandered, looking at the sky, looking at their friends, looking at her love. Greta did the same by Jo's side, squeezing her arm and hugging her.
“I'm so glad for you, Bird.” Jo said softly. “You've changed, and this new life suits you.”
“Do you think so?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this… So happy, so alive.” Jo tilted her head towards Carson. “She's good for you. And you're good for her.”
“Thank you, Joey.” Greta smiled again, still crying a bit. “No more running away.”
Jo winked at her and left her with Carson, while she joined the rest of the Peaches.
“Did you wish for something when the New Year started?” Carson grabbed her by the waist and pulled Greta closer.
“Yes…”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“If I do… It'll stop being a secret, and it might not come true…” Her hand caressed Carson's cheek softly, trying to brush away the cold. “Did you wish for something too?”
“Uh-huh… But it's a secret too.” Carson mustered as their lips found each other again.
While they kissed, Greta closed her eyes again, and murmured, almost too softly to hear, “Let’s be together. Every New Year’s, from now on.”