intheheart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
intheheart) wrote2019-06-20 10:07 pm
intheheart) wrote2019-06-20 10:07 pm
Entry tags:
- character: bridget mitchell,
- character: dean,
- character: don and acacia maserati,
- character: douglas,
- character: duncan ralston,
- character: esther,
- character: gary hawkins,
- character: gina caravecchio,
- character: gwen hawkins,
- character: jack and sophia hirschfeld,
- character: lewis deforrest,
- character: lily martinez,
- character: lynne forester hawkins,
- character: maya thakarta,
- character: michael sierbenski,
- character: molly kendall,
- character: robert and susanna caravecchi,
- character: safiya ralston,
- character: the foster girls,
- character: thea warmind,
- character: theresa wright,
- character: tiffany bowman,
- character: various amalas,
- character: various jacksons,
- character: viktorie,
- drabble chains,
- warning
Holidays
Title: Holidays
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "You're a different person on a holiday." - Karl Pilkington
Warnings: racism, child neglect/abandonment, homophobia.
Notes: I'm writing in a lot of religions and lives which aren't mine, so please feel free to smack me in the face if I've done something wrong. I swear the response you'll get will be an immediate apology.
1. Nobility
Jared drummed his fingers against the table, thoughtfully.
Thing was, it was hard finding out you had half-siblings you'd never known, but it must be harder knowing that you had them and never meeting them. Harder still to show up at your father's funeral, knowing no one knew you, knowing everyone would ask questions you couldn't answer.
"Don't invite him, he's not family," Elliott had said.
Elliott was a jerk. Jared dialed, and got voicemail.
"Hey, Michael, it's Jared. I was thinking... do you want to get together for Thanksgiving? Let me know. Uh... and thanks."
Michael would know why.
2. Sacrifice
Was it really a sacrifice, breaking up with Gina?
It was certainly difficult. Lily spent the next week mainlining ice cream and sad music, crying on her best friend's shoulder and knowing Gina was doing the same. It felt like a sacrifice. Why should they lose something that wasn't hurting anyone?
Except two months later she put on her heels and went to a bar, and a slim and gorgeous brunette wrote her number on Lily's hand, dotting the i in her name with a heart.
Bridget frowned over her Lenten resolutions for the year, and Lily couldn't feel bad.
3. Generosity
Lewis didn't really do holidays. The family didn't come around much after Allen died, and Lewis lost the taste for it before that, when Allen turned quiet and pale. So he didn't think about holidays, except, of course, when he was forced.
When his minions chattered about holiday plans. When the aggressive advertising pushed it in his face. When Mam called, every holiday. Old bat was living much longer than anyone would've guessed, Lewis thought, though not without affection.
Every Mother's Day, he answered the phone, and let her rattle on.
There were all different kinds of love, he supposed.
4. Selflessness
Tiffany liked to volunteer. She spent most of her free time doing it, actually, soup kitchens, homeless shelters, children's groups. Her paying job was mind-numbing routine; the volunteering let her feel more at home. It was quite selfish, really.
Tiffany did not like to spend time with her family. They made her feel stupid without even meaning to, with their inquiries about jobs and lovers and children. They treated her like a child. She'd much rather be helping someone out somewhere.
Still, they loved her. They wanted to see her.
She gave them four hours per holiday. That was selflessness.
5. Chivalry
There was an old tradition, Theresa knew, of couples jumping hand in hand over bonfires on May Day, and while that was just not possible in California (far too much fire), she found it interesting to think about in the abstract. It was a fertility rite, of course, but what sort of fertility rite required you to literally walk through fire?
Hugh would have done it, she thought, if she'd asked him. Peter would laugh at her if she brought it up. But Peter stayed through everything, and Hugh hadn't, and wasn't that really what mattered?
She knew it was.
6. Friendship
When Viktorie was five years old, her family moved to the United States and left all her friends behind. They hadn't much extended family—no grandparents or cousins to miss—but her friends she missed dearly. She made new ones, of course; she was a friendly little girl. She still missed the old.
When Viktorie was twenty-two years old, she moved to New York City and left her family behind. She missed them, but not with the same biting anxiety. She could always call.
She was still very grateful for the inventor of Friendsgiving. There was someone who understood loneliness.
7. Charity
Sophia kept reminding herself that Christmas was the season of charity, and that meant, little as she liked it, putting up with her daughters' boyfriends.
Her girls just had such poor taste in men. She supposed that it was her own fault for not teaching them better, and Gail's boyfriend at least reminded her of their father's more domineering ways, but really. Chris whined and Douglas pouted; Douglas leered at Gail and Chris thought nasty thoughts about Cecily (a mother could tell).
But it was Christmas, so she'd put up with them.
She'd be damned if she liked it, though.
8. Prudence
St. Patrick's Day would probably be nicer if Esther wasn't afraid to walk the streets.
Well, not afraid, she wasn't afraid. Properly cautious would probably be better. Mobs of drunken white boys roaming around looking for trouble? No thank you. At best one of them would hit on her, be too sloshed to take no for an answer, and force her to take extreme measures. At worst...
They said everyone was Irish on St. Paddy's Day, but not if you were black.
So fuck that. She could go drinking with her friends some other time.
Green beer was bullshit anyway.
9. Faith
For as long as Viv could remember, her family had gone to church every Sunday. A lot of kids thought they were old-fashioned, but Viv really liked it; the warm, rich resonance of the priest's voice, the stories and games of Sunday school, even the wobbly off-key voices of the congregation rising in a hymn.
"It's spring break," her friends kept telling her, tugging on her arm. They wanted her to come out to the beach, sand between her toes and the ocean rushing around her ankles. "Come on," they said. "You can skip church this once."
She couldn't, actually.
10. Loyalty
Deborah hadn't believed since... since her third child was born, she thought, but it might have been long before that. Her wedding night maybe, or the night her perfect childhood fell apart. At any rate, by the time her husband left her, she'd long since given up on Allah.
Yet she fasted, every Ramadan. She couldn't explain why. She hadn't begun fasting until after, and Eid had been tainted by her mother's refusal to admit anything was wrong. Her children shunned any connection with Islam. Her siblings—the less said, the better.
Still she fasted. From loyalty, perhaps, to herself.
11. Acceptance
Maryam didn't really have a father. Well, she obviously had one somewhere, and if she asked her mother would probably tell her who he was, but she couldn't bring herself to care about a man who hadn't even bothered to learn her name.
She'd cared once. In school, she'd made up stories about him: how he was strong and brave and smart, how he always sent her presents, how someday he was going to come take her away.
These days, she sent Father's Day cards to Uncle Hugh, and didn't waste a thought on the man who'd donated her genes.
12. Honor
The thing about April Fool's Day was that it was only funny when you weren't the one being pranked, and Tim had five siblings, so that wasn't always true. Still, it meant he got good at pranks, both the pulling and avoiding thereof, so in his college dorm, he was the acknowledged king of April Fool's Day by sophomore year.
He liked to think he'd matured by then—enough to laugh when someone got him, and to not pull pranks on sensitive people. Making people cry really wasn't funny.
He filled the hallway with balloons instead. That was always funny.
13. Truth
Gina told them she was gay on Boxing Day, holding hands with her roommate—no, girlfriend, Susanna reminded herself, feeling a little ill.
Yet, hadn't she always suspected? Only one boyfriend in high school, and Gina had never mentioned anyone else. Susanna had wondered if Ned had... but Gina hadn't seemed hurt, only alone.
Of course, she hadn't been alone, had she? She'd had girlfriends.
How was Susanna supposed to feel? It was a sin, on the one hand, but Gina seemed so happy, and her girlfriend never let go of her hand.
At least now she knew the truth.
14. Fidelity
Marriage stopped being about romance right around the second or third anniversary. Or so Lynne figured, anyway.
That didn't mean there was no romance. There was plenty of romance; enough to get her pregnant three times and a whole lot left over. But it wasn't really about that. When she offered Gary a footrub, it was because she knew he'd been standing all day. When he made her breakfast in bed, it was because he knew she needed as much sleep as possible. Romance didn't figure, not even on Valentine's Day.
Love did, though. And frankly, Lynne liked that better.
15. Virtue
St. Lucia's Day was originally Swedish, and Thea had been laughing about that for years now, ever since her grumpy Sweden-hating father had extolled its virtues. Not that he knew the truth. She could have said "Danes have only celebrated this since 1944," but he'd only get grumpier.
Besides, it was nice. She liked getting up early, sneaking out of bed to put on her robe and her wreath and get the tray ready. She liked waking her family. She liked being important for once.
Maybe it was self-serving, but she liked to think it was a little joyous too.
16. Justice
The trouble with growing up black in America was that you learned quick not to trust the justice system. Your friends went to jail for things white kids walked away from. Cops beat up kids who looked like you. People died for being your color.
So of course Douglas became a lawyer. He was contrary like that.
The thing was that he loved his country. He wanted it better, and for damn sure nobody else was gonna make it better if he didn't.
He could hold up his head on the Fourth of July. Lot of people couldn't say that.
17. Compromise
The hardest thing about having divorced parents was stupid fucking holidays.
Not that they tried to make it hard on her, but Safiya always felt guilty picking one or the other. Sure, Dad had Aunt Ahava and Mom had her new boyfriend, but they both wanted her for Thanksgiving or whatever, her birthday didn't even bear thinking about, and usually they talked seriously on the phone while she hid in her room and tried to forget this broken family crap.
Someday she'd have the holidays to herself, spend time with Mom and Dad on other days. She honestly couldn't wait.
18. Humility
Every goddamn year, Duncan was the Simple Child.
Some of that was just bad timing. His parents did the four children in age order, and since his sisters were older and Ahava was younger (by five minutes), he ended up the Simple Child. Which was okay once in a while. Somebody had to be the stupid one. But year after year after year...
He rebelled when he was fifteen. Ahava was the simple child that year.
Years and years later, Passover at his parents' house with his own daughter, and he wondered if there hadn't been a lesson in that.
19. Tribute
Once upon a time, her name was not Pia Warmind and she did not have her mother. She'd been young then, barely more than an infant. She remembered nothing beyond a few impressions: vague warm feelings, the scent of jasmine.
Her mother was wonderful. Her uncles and aunts and grandfather and cousins had no idea Pia was not of their blood. She was their daughter, granddaughter, niece, cousin: that was good enough for them, and most of the time for her.
Come Halloween, she tried to remember before, that other life. Someone had to.
She was the only one left.
20. Sympathy
Maja had a lot of sympathy. The problem was that she didn't have a lot of energy. ME/CFS was sort of the worst ever and it didn't leave much. Which was not to say-- it could be worse. Sometimes she even forgot she had it. Then she'd have a bad day and be forcibly reminded.
For whatever reason, her bad days never seemed to coincide with MLK day. She was grateful for that-- people always had volunteer events, and she always had time and she always felt good, even if she paid for it the next day.
Always worth it.
21. Perfection
Shannon wasn't perfect. Of course she wasn't, she was human. That was what Yom Kippur was for, anyway, repenting and atoning for your sins, figuring out what you'd done wrong and trying to do better. If she wasn’t always good at the atoning, well, she was great at figuring out sins.
Like the year she ditched Ivy for prom, though that was partly self-defense. Or the time she left Malia right before the holidays, because spending any holiday with a girlfriend felt like commitment.
The problem was she didn't know how to atone.
At least she tried to do better.
22. Innocence
When Molly was little, Easter meant hunting eggs, eating chocolate rabbits, walking down by the river, throwing handfuls of loose petals and watching them spiral down into the water. She was too young then, and her parents too irreligious for her to understand what Easter meant.
Years and a religious epiphany later, she knew what Easter meant. A bastardized version of Ostara, the spring equinox, eggs and rabbits for fertility, flowers for the goddess. New beginnings, rebirth, resurrection.
She still hunted eggs and ate chocolate rabbits and threw flowers in the river.
She thought she was wiser as a child.
23. Glory
It wasn't really about glory.
It could be, sometimes, in the beginning. Dean had been young and stupid once, puffed up with pride before boot camp beat it out of him. Which wasn't to say—he was still proud, he was a Marine and if you couldn't be proud of that, what could you be proud of? But it wasn't about glory anymore.
People got it more on Veterans' Day, when they bothered to think. It wasn't about glory, never had been. It was about duty, and pride, and patriotism, and his wife and their sons and.
It was about love.
24. Protect
Maya came to them in mid-April, so their first holiday together was Memorial Day, out of season hot and full of flies. Joy couldn't get the weekend, so it was just the three of them, him and Acacia and Maya, sitting out in the garden in the evening drinking lemonade and watching the sunset saturate the horizon.
Maya was asleep by then, listing over onto Don's shoulder, mouth askew and drooling. How much he would have given to be her father, when her own parents had thrown her away.
"To bed?" Acacia asked; he shook his head.
"Let her sleep."
25. Peace
It was funny because New Year's Eve was the least peaceful night of the entire fucking year, what with drunks and fireworks, muggers and pickpockets out in force, DUIs fucking everywhere and all hands on deck. It was worse even than Halloween. Cop or EMT, it never changed. Gwen hated it.
Then like a blessing from above came New Year's Day. Everything was closed, the roads silent, people sleeping off hangovers. The boys were asleep, Dean was home. One year it snowed overnight, the morning like a blank slate, a fresh start.
It was Gwen's favorite day of the year.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "You're a different person on a holiday." - Karl Pilkington
Warnings: racism, child neglect/abandonment, homophobia.
Notes: I'm writing in a lot of religions and lives which aren't mine, so please feel free to smack me in the face if I've done something wrong. I swear the response you'll get will be an immediate apology.
1. Nobility
Jared drummed his fingers against the table, thoughtfully.
Thing was, it was hard finding out you had half-siblings you'd never known, but it must be harder knowing that you had them and never meeting them. Harder still to show up at your father's funeral, knowing no one knew you, knowing everyone would ask questions you couldn't answer.
"Don't invite him, he's not family," Elliott had said.
Elliott was a jerk. Jared dialed, and got voicemail.
"Hey, Michael, it's Jared. I was thinking... do you want to get together for Thanksgiving? Let me know. Uh... and thanks."
Michael would know why.
2. Sacrifice
Was it really a sacrifice, breaking up with Gina?
It was certainly difficult. Lily spent the next week mainlining ice cream and sad music, crying on her best friend's shoulder and knowing Gina was doing the same. It felt like a sacrifice. Why should they lose something that wasn't hurting anyone?
Except two months later she put on her heels and went to a bar, and a slim and gorgeous brunette wrote her number on Lily's hand, dotting the i in her name with a heart.
Bridget frowned over her Lenten resolutions for the year, and Lily couldn't feel bad.
3. Generosity
Lewis didn't really do holidays. The family didn't come around much after Allen died, and Lewis lost the taste for it before that, when Allen turned quiet and pale. So he didn't think about holidays, except, of course, when he was forced.
When his minions chattered about holiday plans. When the aggressive advertising pushed it in his face. When Mam called, every holiday. Old bat was living much longer than anyone would've guessed, Lewis thought, though not without affection.
Every Mother's Day, he answered the phone, and let her rattle on.
There were all different kinds of love, he supposed.
4. Selflessness
Tiffany liked to volunteer. She spent most of her free time doing it, actually, soup kitchens, homeless shelters, children's groups. Her paying job was mind-numbing routine; the volunteering let her feel more at home. It was quite selfish, really.
Tiffany did not like to spend time with her family. They made her feel stupid without even meaning to, with their inquiries about jobs and lovers and children. They treated her like a child. She'd much rather be helping someone out somewhere.
Still, they loved her. They wanted to see her.
She gave them four hours per holiday. That was selflessness.
5. Chivalry
There was an old tradition, Theresa knew, of couples jumping hand in hand over bonfires on May Day, and while that was just not possible in California (far too much fire), she found it interesting to think about in the abstract. It was a fertility rite, of course, but what sort of fertility rite required you to literally walk through fire?
Hugh would have done it, she thought, if she'd asked him. Peter would laugh at her if she brought it up. But Peter stayed through everything, and Hugh hadn't, and wasn't that really what mattered?
She knew it was.
6. Friendship
When Viktorie was five years old, her family moved to the United States and left all her friends behind. They hadn't much extended family—no grandparents or cousins to miss—but her friends she missed dearly. She made new ones, of course; she was a friendly little girl. She still missed the old.
When Viktorie was twenty-two years old, she moved to New York City and left her family behind. She missed them, but not with the same biting anxiety. She could always call.
She was still very grateful for the inventor of Friendsgiving. There was someone who understood loneliness.
7. Charity
Sophia kept reminding herself that Christmas was the season of charity, and that meant, little as she liked it, putting up with her daughters' boyfriends.
Her girls just had such poor taste in men. She supposed that it was her own fault for not teaching them better, and Gail's boyfriend at least reminded her of their father's more domineering ways, but really. Chris whined and Douglas pouted; Douglas leered at Gail and Chris thought nasty thoughts about Cecily (a mother could tell).
But it was Christmas, so she'd put up with them.
She'd be damned if she liked it, though.
8. Prudence
St. Patrick's Day would probably be nicer if Esther wasn't afraid to walk the streets.
Well, not afraid, she wasn't afraid. Properly cautious would probably be better. Mobs of drunken white boys roaming around looking for trouble? No thank you. At best one of them would hit on her, be too sloshed to take no for an answer, and force her to take extreme measures. At worst...
They said everyone was Irish on St. Paddy's Day, but not if you were black.
So fuck that. She could go drinking with her friends some other time.
Green beer was bullshit anyway.
9. Faith
For as long as Viv could remember, her family had gone to church every Sunday. A lot of kids thought they were old-fashioned, but Viv really liked it; the warm, rich resonance of the priest's voice, the stories and games of Sunday school, even the wobbly off-key voices of the congregation rising in a hymn.
"It's spring break," her friends kept telling her, tugging on her arm. They wanted her to come out to the beach, sand between her toes and the ocean rushing around her ankles. "Come on," they said. "You can skip church this once."
She couldn't, actually.
10. Loyalty
Deborah hadn't believed since... since her third child was born, she thought, but it might have been long before that. Her wedding night maybe, or the night her perfect childhood fell apart. At any rate, by the time her husband left her, she'd long since given up on Allah.
Yet she fasted, every Ramadan. She couldn't explain why. She hadn't begun fasting until after, and Eid had been tainted by her mother's refusal to admit anything was wrong. Her children shunned any connection with Islam. Her siblings—the less said, the better.
Still she fasted. From loyalty, perhaps, to herself.
11. Acceptance
Maryam didn't really have a father. Well, she obviously had one somewhere, and if she asked her mother would probably tell her who he was, but she couldn't bring herself to care about a man who hadn't even bothered to learn her name.
She'd cared once. In school, she'd made up stories about him: how he was strong and brave and smart, how he always sent her presents, how someday he was going to come take her away.
These days, she sent Father's Day cards to Uncle Hugh, and didn't waste a thought on the man who'd donated her genes.
12. Honor
The thing about April Fool's Day was that it was only funny when you weren't the one being pranked, and Tim had five siblings, so that wasn't always true. Still, it meant he got good at pranks, both the pulling and avoiding thereof, so in his college dorm, he was the acknowledged king of April Fool's Day by sophomore year.
He liked to think he'd matured by then—enough to laugh when someone got him, and to not pull pranks on sensitive people. Making people cry really wasn't funny.
He filled the hallway with balloons instead. That was always funny.
13. Truth
Gina told them she was gay on Boxing Day, holding hands with her roommate—no, girlfriend, Susanna reminded herself, feeling a little ill.
Yet, hadn't she always suspected? Only one boyfriend in high school, and Gina had never mentioned anyone else. Susanna had wondered if Ned had... but Gina hadn't seemed hurt, only alone.
Of course, she hadn't been alone, had she? She'd had girlfriends.
How was Susanna supposed to feel? It was a sin, on the one hand, but Gina seemed so happy, and her girlfriend never let go of her hand.
At least now she knew the truth.
14. Fidelity
Marriage stopped being about romance right around the second or third anniversary. Or so Lynne figured, anyway.
That didn't mean there was no romance. There was plenty of romance; enough to get her pregnant three times and a whole lot left over. But it wasn't really about that. When she offered Gary a footrub, it was because she knew he'd been standing all day. When he made her breakfast in bed, it was because he knew she needed as much sleep as possible. Romance didn't figure, not even on Valentine's Day.
Love did, though. And frankly, Lynne liked that better.
15. Virtue
St. Lucia's Day was originally Swedish, and Thea had been laughing about that for years now, ever since her grumpy Sweden-hating father had extolled its virtues. Not that he knew the truth. She could have said "Danes have only celebrated this since 1944," but he'd only get grumpier.
Besides, it was nice. She liked getting up early, sneaking out of bed to put on her robe and her wreath and get the tray ready. She liked waking her family. She liked being important for once.
Maybe it was self-serving, but she liked to think it was a little joyous too.
16. Justice
The trouble with growing up black in America was that you learned quick not to trust the justice system. Your friends went to jail for things white kids walked away from. Cops beat up kids who looked like you. People died for being your color.
So of course Douglas became a lawyer. He was contrary like that.
The thing was that he loved his country. He wanted it better, and for damn sure nobody else was gonna make it better if he didn't.
He could hold up his head on the Fourth of July. Lot of people couldn't say that.
17. Compromise
The hardest thing about having divorced parents was stupid fucking holidays.
Not that they tried to make it hard on her, but Safiya always felt guilty picking one or the other. Sure, Dad had Aunt Ahava and Mom had her new boyfriend, but they both wanted her for Thanksgiving or whatever, her birthday didn't even bear thinking about, and usually they talked seriously on the phone while she hid in her room and tried to forget this broken family crap.
Someday she'd have the holidays to herself, spend time with Mom and Dad on other days. She honestly couldn't wait.
18. Humility
Every goddamn year, Duncan was the Simple Child.
Some of that was just bad timing. His parents did the four children in age order, and since his sisters were older and Ahava was younger (by five minutes), he ended up the Simple Child. Which was okay once in a while. Somebody had to be the stupid one. But year after year after year...
He rebelled when he was fifteen. Ahava was the simple child that year.
Years and years later, Passover at his parents' house with his own daughter, and he wondered if there hadn't been a lesson in that.
19. Tribute
Once upon a time, her name was not Pia Warmind and she did not have her mother. She'd been young then, barely more than an infant. She remembered nothing beyond a few impressions: vague warm feelings, the scent of jasmine.
Her mother was wonderful. Her uncles and aunts and grandfather and cousins had no idea Pia was not of their blood. She was their daughter, granddaughter, niece, cousin: that was good enough for them, and most of the time for her.
Come Halloween, she tried to remember before, that other life. Someone had to.
She was the only one left.
20. Sympathy
Maja had a lot of sympathy. The problem was that she didn't have a lot of energy. ME/CFS was sort of the worst ever and it didn't leave much. Which was not to say-- it could be worse. Sometimes she even forgot she had it. Then she'd have a bad day and be forcibly reminded.
For whatever reason, her bad days never seemed to coincide with MLK day. She was grateful for that-- people always had volunteer events, and she always had time and she always felt good, even if she paid for it the next day.
Always worth it.
21. Perfection
Shannon wasn't perfect. Of course she wasn't, she was human. That was what Yom Kippur was for, anyway, repenting and atoning for your sins, figuring out what you'd done wrong and trying to do better. If she wasn’t always good at the atoning, well, she was great at figuring out sins.
Like the year she ditched Ivy for prom, though that was partly self-defense. Or the time she left Malia right before the holidays, because spending any holiday with a girlfriend felt like commitment.
The problem was she didn't know how to atone.
At least she tried to do better.
22. Innocence
When Molly was little, Easter meant hunting eggs, eating chocolate rabbits, walking down by the river, throwing handfuls of loose petals and watching them spiral down into the water. She was too young then, and her parents too irreligious for her to understand what Easter meant.
Years and a religious epiphany later, she knew what Easter meant. A bastardized version of Ostara, the spring equinox, eggs and rabbits for fertility, flowers for the goddess. New beginnings, rebirth, resurrection.
She still hunted eggs and ate chocolate rabbits and threw flowers in the river.
She thought she was wiser as a child.
23. Glory
It wasn't really about glory.
It could be, sometimes, in the beginning. Dean had been young and stupid once, puffed up with pride before boot camp beat it out of him. Which wasn't to say—he was still proud, he was a Marine and if you couldn't be proud of that, what could you be proud of? But it wasn't about glory anymore.
People got it more on Veterans' Day, when they bothered to think. It wasn't about glory, never had been. It was about duty, and pride, and patriotism, and his wife and their sons and.
It was about love.
24. Protect
Maya came to them in mid-April, so their first holiday together was Memorial Day, out of season hot and full of flies. Joy couldn't get the weekend, so it was just the three of them, him and Acacia and Maya, sitting out in the garden in the evening drinking lemonade and watching the sunset saturate the horizon.
Maya was asleep by then, listing over onto Don's shoulder, mouth askew and drooling. How much he would have given to be her father, when her own parents had thrown her away.
"To bed?" Acacia asked; he shook his head.
"Let her sleep."
25. Peace
It was funny because New Year's Eve was the least peaceful night of the entire fucking year, what with drunks and fireworks, muggers and pickpockets out in force, DUIs fucking everywhere and all hands on deck. It was worse even than Halloween. Cop or EMT, it never changed. Gwen hated it.
Then like a blessing from above came New Year's Day. Everything was closed, the roads silent, people sleeping off hangovers. The boys were asleep, Dean was home. One year it snowed overnight, the morning like a blank slate, a fresh start.
It was Gwen's favorite day of the year.