Gingerbread Hearts. Six Lesbian Christmas Stories, page 1
Gingerbread Hearts
Six Lesbian Christmas Stories
by Ylva Publishing
Published by Ylva Publishing, legal entity of Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
http://www.ylva-publishing.com
Copyright 2012 Ylva Publishing
Smashwords Edition
First Edition: November 2012
Edited by Judy Underwood
Cover Design by Krystel Contreras
Cover photo by http://www.schwarz-licht.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of contents
Introduction
Holiday Outing
Alison Grey
It’s in the Pudding
Emma Weimann
Devgo
Corinna Behrens
A Magical Christmas
RJ Nolan
The Christmas Grump
Jae
Kissing Ms. Santa Claus
Jae
About Alison Grey
About Emma Weimann
About Corinna Behrens
About RJ Nolan
About Jae
Other books from Ylva Publishing
Coming from Ylva Publishing in spring 2013
Introduction
2012 was a year filled with hard work to get our publishing company up and running and to produce the best books we possibly can.
Thank you to all the people who helped us in this endeavor. A special thanks goes to Sandra Gerth, who is both a calming influence and an active contributor. Without her, the publishing company wouldn’t be where it is today—and the publisher would have a lot more gray hairs.
A big thank-you goes to Alison Grey, Judy Underwood, Marion Gerwien, Kerstin Troka, Ulrike Busch, Daniela Hüge, Krystel Contreras, Marion Pönisch, Susanne Gerth, and RJ Nolan, our “blurb queen.” Having you be part of our “pack” is a wonderful thing.
The writers and staff of Ylva Publishing wish all of our readers a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. May your holidays be filled with love, laughter, and lots of good books.
Holiday Outing
Alison Grey
“I’ll do it. I swear, this time I’ll do it,” Susanne murmured and pushed up the sleeves of her sweater. She marched into the living room and stopped directly in front of her mother’s recliner.
Her mother reached for a pretzel stick from the bowl on her lap and stared at the television.
“Mom?”
“Not now, darling. I’m watching Columbo. I think it was the chauffeur.”
Susanne rolled her eyes. “Mom, there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”
Her mother put the pretzel stick in her mouth but didn’t look at Susanne. “What is it?”
“Mom, I … I’m …” Susanne blew out a breath. I can’t do it. Damn! With drooping shoulders, she turned and shuffled from the living room. “It’s nothing.”
A barely audible grunting from her mother followed her to her room.
***
“And?” Ulrike asked. “Come on, sis. Tell me what she said!”
Susanne dropped onto her bed. “She thinks it was the chauffeur,” she said into the phone.
“Huh?”
Susanne switched the phone to the other side. “She was watching TV and didn’t even listen to what I said.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“But you said you’d do it today.”
“It just wasn’t the right moment,” Susanne said. “Maybe I should wait until I can tell Mom and Dad at the same time.”
Ulrike groaned. “And then what? It was your idea to tell them one at a time. What’s so hard about that? You walk up to them and say, I’m gay.”
Moaning, Susanne squeezed her eyes shut. “God, what a nightmare.”
After a few seconds of silence, Ulrike said, “I know it’s not easy, but you’ve got to tell them sometime. All this drama has been going on for four years now. You’ve had two girlfriends and are still putting off coming out. And whenever you’re sick of all the secrecy, it’s always the same. You want to tell them, but then you don’t, and you whine about Mom and Dad not really knowing you. So, when are you going to tell them?”
“I’ll tell them eventually,” Susanne said. “But not today.”
“Okay.” Ulrike sighed. “How about Christmas?”
Susanne’s eyes widened. “Christmas?”
“Yes,” Ulrike said enthusiastically. “The whole family will be there, so you’ll only have to say it once.”
“That’s not a good i—”
“Nonsense. You’re doing it on Christmas Eve. Even Grandma Frida and Grandpa Helmut will be there. Oh, and Uncle Uwe said he’d come this year too. He’ll bring his new girlfriend Renate or Regina or something like that. Who can keep up with all the names when he gets a new girlfriend every other day?”
Susanne wasn’t interested in the name of Uncle Uwe’s latest girlfriend. Her heart was racing. “Are you joking?” Ulrike was completely nuts. She couldn’t come out on Christmas Eve.
“Do you see me laughing? So? What do you say? As soon as everyone sits down, you take up a position in front of them and ask them to listen. That’s all.”
“That’s all,” Susanne repeated quietly. I can’t do it.
“I’ll be there the whole time,” Ulrike said. “And if Grandpa Helmut falls off his chair, I’ll give first aid. Don’t panic.” She giggled.
Susanne’s stomach felt queasy. “You’re so not funny.”
“So what? I’m still your favorite sister.”
“You’re my only sister, you nut,” Susanne said into the phone.
“Details, details. I’ll be coming over early on Christmas Eve. I promised Mom I’d help with the cooking anyway. And then you’ll tell them. Okay?”
Susanne didn’t answer. She wouldn’t be able to do it like that in a million years. She couldn’t even do it when it was just her mother. Just thinking about coming out to the whole family at the same time made her tremble and break out into a sweat.
“So?”
I’ll do anything as long as she shuts up. “Yes, yes, okay. I’ll do it.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. See you next week. I’ve got to go. Michael and I want to try out the new Italian place around the corner.”
“You do that. See you soon.” Susanne ended the call and shook her head. How did she always get into situations like this? She hoped Ulrike would have forgotten about their conversation by next week. After all, it was just six days until Christmas.
***
Susanne sat on her bed and studied the PETA poster displaying Pamela Anderson. “I’m twenty-five, still live at home, and haven’t managed to come out to them in four years. My life’s pitiful.”
Ulrike sat next to her. “Bullshit. You got your master’s. Why move when Mom and Dad live twenty minutes from the college? And you just haven’t told them because you haven’t been in a serious relationship yet.”
Susanne looked at her. “Yeah, still. It’s an important part of me.”
“I know.” Ulrike patted her knee. “That’s why I want you to finally tell them.” She smiled. “And before you know it, you’ll meet Ms. Right. I’m sure of it.”
Nonsense. Susanne snorted and stood. She ambled to the window and looked outside. Snow had been falling for hours, turning the street, the pavement, and the fir in the front yard into an idyllic winter wonderland. Maybe Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle Uwe will think it’s better to stay home in this weather. That would leave only Mom and Dad.
“You’ll tell them today. Then things will get better. I’m sure of it.”
Susanne nodded. No more excuses. I’ll do it today. She turned back toward the window. Everything looks so peaceful. It won’t stay that way. That’s for sure.
***
“Merry Christmas,” Grandma Frida mumbled while she cleaned her boots on the doormat and bent to unleash Hugo, her Pekinese.
The little rat barked. As always, it was shrill and gave Susanne a headache. He jumped back and forth between her and Ulrike.
Susanne ignored him. He had bitten her once too often. His teeth were too tiny to hurt someone seriously, but Susanne still remembered how he had chewed on her finger this summer until it started bleeding. I won’t repeat that mistake.
Grandma Frida hugged Ulrike first, then Susanne.
“Merry Christmas, Grandma,” Susanne said and stepped back when Grandma Frida wanted to pinch her cheek.
“Have you lost weight again, child?” Grandma Frida turned toward her daughter and son-in-law, who were leaving the living room and stepping into the hall. “Doris, your youngest is getting thinner and thinner. You really have to …”
“Yes, Mom,” Susanne’s mother said and opened her arms. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Chr
Hugo ran over to Susanne’s parents and jumped up and down.
They ignored the small dog.
“I’m just saying,” Grandma Frida said, letting go of her daughter. “I don’t want the child to develop an eating disorder. Like Princess Vi...”
“Where’s Grandpa?” Ulrike asked and looked out the still open door.
Grandma Frida let go of her daughter and hugged her son-in-law. “Merry Christmas, Bernd.”
Susanne’s father forced a smile. He looked as if someone had pulled out one of his toenails. It was an open secret that he didn’t particularly care for his mother-in-law.
“He’s getting the presents from the car.” Grandma Frida let go of her son-in-law and waved her hands. “Hurry up and help him, children. Don’t you want to get presents this year?”
“We’re going,” Susanne said and pulled Ulrike after her. We’re off to a good start.
“Grandma’s in a rare mood,” Ulrike whispered when they were a few yards away.
Susanne shrugged. “She’s never in a good mood. You wouldn’t be either if you had a little furball as a dog.”
Ulrike giggled.
“There you are, girls,” Grandpa Helmut called and waved as if they were still hundreds of yards away instead of just four steps.
“Hi, Grandpa,” Ulrike said as she stepped next to the aging Ford Fiesta’s open trunk and hugged her grandfather.
“Hello, Rike. Merry Christmas.” After a few seconds, he let go and opened his arms to Susanne.
Susanne embraced him. “Hi, Grandpa. Merry Christmas.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the backseat had been folded down to make room for all the large presents. “Wow, you really went all out this year.”
Grandpa Helmut let go of Susanne and grinned. “Just the best for you. Merry Christmas, little one. How are you?”
Susanne stepped back and stared at the ground. “I’m fine.” She looked at him. “Grandma says you need help carrying the presents.”
He studied her for a moment and then nodded. “Yes. Your grandmother went overboard with the gift wrapping.” Groaning, he lifted three foot-long boxes out of the trunk and handed them to Ulrike. “Here. That’s the first batch.”
With a low “uff,” Ulrike balanced the boxes on her arms and carried them toward the front door. The snow had started falling harder, and now Ulrike looked as if she were wearing a white cap.
Susanne watched her for a moment and then turned back toward her grandfather.
“Susi, what’s going on with you?”
Uh-oh. She had never been able to hide anything from him. “Nothing. Really.”
He rubbed his gray beard. After a few seconds that felt more like an eternity, he nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Susanne laid her hand on his forearm. “I promise I’ll tell you later.”
“Whatever you want,” he said, smiling.
“Thank you.” Susanne leaned against his shoulder.
Ulrike returned. “Anything else?” She looked back and forth between Grandpa Helmut and Susanne. “Everything all right?”
“Sure,” they said at the same time.
Susanne hoped they’d still be able to say that after her coming out.
***
Grandma Frida and Grandpa Helmut had a heated discussion about how to arrange the presents beneath the Christmas tree while Susanne’s father pretended to be deeply engrossed in the newspaper.
Susanne shook her head. As if anyone could read with this ruckus. She looked back and forth between the couch and the Christmas tree, where Hugo was taking a nap and snoring softly despite the noise. Guess he’s used to it.
Her mother and Ulrike were hiding in the kitchen. They had retreated as soon as the fighting started.
Susanne stood between the coffee table and the Christmas tree. She didn’t feel like helping with the cooking, but even that was better than—
“Susi, darling,” Grandma Frida called from her position next to the Christmas tree. “You haven’t said anything. Don’t you think the large presents look much better here than over there?”
“Uh, I guess.” Damn, I should have escaped when I still had the chance.
Grandma Frida stared at her husband. “Your grandfather seems to think otherwise.”
“Frida, do whatever you want, but if you put the large boxes there, anyone coming in from the hall will fall over them, because you can’t see them until it’s too late.”
Grandma Frida waved him off. “Nonsense. You’re exaggerating again.” She looked at her son-in-law. “Bernd, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, without looking up from his newspaper.
“Phh. No wonder you don’t know. You didn’t even look.” Grandma Frida put her hands on her ample hips and pushed the large presents even farther to the side until they were nearly blocking the doorway.
“We can’t leave them like that,” Grandpa Helmut grumbled.
“I have to pee,” Susanne said and pushed past her grandparents. It was always the same every year. All but one thing. I’ll tell them today. There’s no going back.
***
The fussing had stopped when Susanne returned to the living room. Grandpa Helmut sat on the couch, his arms folded tightly over his chest, staring into his half-empty beer glass. Grandma Frida tugged the lametta into the correct position on the Christmas tree.
The door opened, and Susanne’s mother and Ulrike entered the living room with Christmas stollen and mulled wine. Ulrike nearly stumbled over the presents blocking the way but stepped over them at the last second. A bit of mulled wine spilled from one of the mugs she carried.
“Careful,” Grandma Frida said and shook her head as she glanced at the small, red puddle forming on the present on the top of the pile.
“Sorry,” Ulrike mumbled and put the mug down on the coffee table in front of Susanne.
“I told you …” Grandpa Helmut began.
“Stop it,” Susanne’s father said.
All heads turned to look at him.
He folded his newspaper and put it on the table next to the couch. “It’s Christmas, goddammit. Let’s celebrate the festival of love, or I’ll snap.”
Grandma Frida opened and closed her mouth without saying anything.
Susanne’s mother sighed quietly and placed the stollen on the coffee table. “Mom, are you sure you want to eat in the living room? Why don’t we go into the dini—?”
“You already set the table for dinner in the dining room. Besides, we can admire the Christmas tree if we stay in here,” Grandma Frida said and tilted her head to look at the Christmas tree. “You really picked a nice one this year.”
“Thanks,” Susanne’s father mumbled.
Ulrike looked at Susanne. “I forgot the pastry forks. Susi, can you give me a hand?”
Susanne furrowed her brow. Huh? “You need help with the forks?” What’s going on? Since when do you need forks to eat stollen?
“Yes.”
Susanne stood and followed Ulrike.
In the kitchen, Ulrike picked up the forks that were lying on the kitchen counter. “Do it now.”
“What?” Susanne clutched the kitchen counter because she suddenly started to feel dizzy. “You’re kidding.” She pointed toward the living room. “Didn’t you notice the atmosphere in there?”
“Of course I did. But it’s not going to get better. You know that as well as I do.”
Susanne leaned against the counter and exhaled slowly. “I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can,” Ulrike said. “Just go out there and do it.”
Not yet. It’s too early. We need to ... hmm, what exactly am I waiting for? Ah, yes. That’s it. “We need to wait for Michael and Uncle Uwe and his girlfriend.”
“Michael already knows, and he won’t be here before dinner. And who knows if Uncle Uwe will show up? You know him.”
