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Sage smiled and hugged herself tight.
MARY SUE
Mary Sue Ellen stood at the sink brushing her teeth, the late hour settling heavy in her bones. The diner would open early tomorrow, as always.
And yet… she thought, smiling at her reflection.
And yet you are happier than you’ve been in a very long time, Mary Sue Ellen. A very long time.
It wasn’t that she’d been unhappy. She usually finished at the diner, climbed the stairs to her quiet apartment, read a book or watched a little TV, maybe called Cal on nights she knew he wasn’t sleeping, then slipped into bed. Sometimes she visited with Hallie or Lila. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d found herself rushing upstairs, eager to close the door behind her and simply be with Sage and Isabelle.
Three nights of talking, laughing, crying, and just… being women together.
She paused, looking toward the window. Christmas lights glowed softly along Main Street, their colored halos shimmering through the steady fall of snow. In her bedroom the small fireplace crackled with a low, golden light, casting dancing shadows across the quilted bedspread and worn but beloved furniture. The air smelled faintly of woodsmoke, vanilla cookies, and lavender lotion.
Sage…my girl. She reminds me so much of me.
Mary Sue rinsed her mouth, turned off the light, and padded back to her bed. She hesitated, then sighed and knelt carefully on the rug, wincing at the familiar ache in her knees. She prayed for a few quiet minutes — for Cal, for Sage, for all the broken pieces that somehow kept finding their way home.
When she finally climbed under the thick, cozy blankets, the warmth of the fireplace wrapped around her like a gentle embrace. Snow continued falling steadily outside.
A small, hesitant knock sounded at the door.
Mary Sue smiled.
“Yes, baby girl?” she called, amused.
Sage peeked in, looking shy and impossibly small in that ridiculous oversized forest-green hoodie of Cal’s.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Because I’m your mother now,” Mary Sue said matter-of-factly, her nose in the air, “and I know everything.”
Sage got that look on her face every time Mary Sue mentioned something about being her mother. A look of love, longing, and the disbelief that it was true.
“Umm… Mama? I was wondering… is it okay if—”
Mary Sue didn’t wait. She simply pulled the heavy blanket back and patted the space beside her.
Sage looked at her in disbelief “How…”
Mary Sue just raised an eyebrow smiling at her daughter.
Sage walked over to the side of the bed, wiping her eyes slightly, and crawling in next to Mary Sue. Mary Sue pulled Sage into her arms and covered them both with blankets as she kissed her forehead. She was thankful Sage couldn’t see the tears gathering in her own eyes.
“Good night, sweetheart,” she whispered, soft as the snow outside. “I love you.”
Sage froze.
Then Sage turned into her, burying her face against Mary Sue’s chest, and cried.
Mary Sue just held her tight, rubbing slow circles on her back until the tears slowed and Sage’s breathing evened out into sleep. Only then did Mary Sue kiss her forehead once more, close her eyes, and let herself drift off with her girl safe in her arms.
25
CAL
Cal was afraid.
