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“Sit down!” An exasperated Nyota commanded.
“I’m sorry, hun. This time of year has me wound up. Too many holidays too close together. One of my cousins took his life just before Christmas. I want them all to be done!”
Chris forced herself to sit down in the old rocking chair. She harrumped one last time in defeat. She was not happy.
“Sweets,” Ny said, “Just surrender to them. They’ll be over before you know it. Then we’ll have the spring to face, we’ll enjoy spring cleaning, and be married in June.”
Ny scooched closer to her lover in her adirondack chair on the ancient floorboards, then stroked Christine’s brow.
“Relax, hun. We’ve got this. I won’t let nothing bad happen.”
Chris seized then clamped Ny’s hand to her bosom. She gazed upon her lover with naked affection.
“Ny, I’m so sorry. I love you more than I love life. I’m not working hard enough at this, am I?”
Nyota shook her head. “No, babe. You’re not. Try doing something different every day that you’d never do up until New Year’s Day, then we’ll take inventory. Do it for me, babe.” She leant forward and traced her tongue along Chris’ bottom lip.
Christine, suddenly undone, grasped her girlfriend and pulled the Bantu into a fierce embrace.
When Chris came up for air, she declared, “I’m sorry for my terrible mood, hun. I’m so in the habit of being a buzzkill towards the end of year that I slip into the role effortlessly.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and Ny leant forward and gently licked the saltiness away from Chris’ cheek.
“Babe, I’ve got you. Let me have it. Let me have all your pain and regret. Give it to me,” Ny pleaded, as she cupped her lover’s cheeks between her palms.
“This is all you get, hun. Take it all. Let’s festoon the yard with tacky ornaments and Christmas lights, then invite Leonard to dinner. Get up, let’s go.” Christine forced herself to rise out of the ancient rocking chair, and marched to the shed to gather the Christmas lights.