The next morning my phone’s alarm clock went off, reminding me that I had work in an hour and a half. Groggily, I hunted around until I found my undies in that giant bed of Emmy’s. She was out cold, so I kissed her bare back, marveling once more at her silky smooth paper-thin skin and the hard muscles underneath. I kissed her again, this time on the nape of her neck, smelling her jasmine perfume. God, she even smelled fantastic. Touching her, smelling her like that, I was struck by how happy I felt, how warm inside. There was not one tiny bit of regret for what we’d done in that big bed of Emmy’s the night before.

Standing under the hot water in her cavernous shower, I chuckled to myself at the bottle of familiar shampoo. Emmy had gotten it for me so I’d have the things I liked and was comfortable with, not realizing that the only reason we bought that particular brand was because it worked O.K. and was cheap. Skipping the bargain priced stuff, I used Emmy’s shampoo and body wash. I have no idea how much they cost or even where you could buy the French-labeled bath products, but I knew immediately that they were worth the price. My hair felt so clean and glossy under my hands, and my body tingled in a wonderful way.

I turned off the water all too soon. I’d enjoyed that shower and hated to see it end, but it had to, eventually. As I turned to exit, I saw Emmy in the stall’s doorway. She was standing there, silently watching me. I yelped with surprise, covering myself with my hands. My reflexes were faster than my brain, I realized almost immediately. I mean, we’d been naked when we made love together in bed, and Emmy didn’t have a stitch on as she stood there, so why was I being so shy? Blushing, I uncovered myself.

“How long were you watching?” I asked.

“Not long enough,” Emmy replied. “You are so beautiful I could watch you all day.” She walked into the shower stall and handed me a big, thick towel, which was warm to the touch. She stood on her tiptoes to give me a kiss, then asked “Would you like to watch me?” If I hadn’t already been blushing, that would have turned me redder than a tomato.

“Uh, no, that’s all right,” I mumbled as I scooted out of there, feeling uncomfortable. I was dressed by the time she finished her shower. “Em, we need to get going soon. I need to stop by my place to change clothes.”

“O.K. I will get ready quickly. Would you like breakfast before we go?”

I kept expecting to feel guilt or shame for what Emmy and I had done, but it just didn’t happen. In fact, every time I did think back (which was admittedly quite often) I felt a warm, delicious glow. The smell of Emmy’s perfume, the feel of her silky skin against mine, the taste of her lips, the soft sounds she made... it was all just too good to feel anything other than euphoric.

At work at the nursery, Uncle Bob asked me why I was in such a good mood.

“I guess I just woke up on the right side of the bed this morning,” was all I replied.

“Judging by the silly smile on your face, my guess is you weren’t the only one who woke up in that bed this morning,” he teased.

Clasping my hands to my mouth and acting scandalized, I replied “How could you ever say such a thing!” but my laughter betrayed me. “No, it’s not that. Just some days you feel good, you know?”

“Ah, the sweet days of youth,” Bob said to the sky. “How do I miss thee.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not even thirty years old! You do triathlons. I don’t think the ‘sweetness of youth’ has passed you by just yet.”

“Well, maybe not, now that you put it that way,” he replied, with that grin that lit up his blue eyes and reminded me so much of my father. “C’mon, let’s get some trees unloaded.”

Although working at Uncle Bob’s nursery was hard work, I enjoyed it. Bob and his wife Alicia were really good to work for and they paid me more than I was ever going to get at the frozen yogurt place. In fact, they paid me more than I was worth, to be totally honest. It was a good (but hot) summer job, and they were happy to give me any days I wanted during spring and Christmas breaks, too.

Emmy’s car was waiting by the office when I was done with my shift. I felt that silly smile Bob had teased me about spread over my face. I did my best to compose myself before he saw it, and I think I succeeded. I hoped I wasn’t grinning like an idiot, anyway.

I went in to the office to clean up and saw Emmy was talking to Alicia, Bob’s girlfriend. “Emmy here tells me that you’re going to Stanford next fall. Congratulations!” Alicia said.

“What? No, Emmy’s jumping the gun. I’ve applied, that’s all. They still have to accept me.”

“Of course they will accept you!” Emmy said. “How could they say no?”

“You have more confidence than I have,” I said, as I went through the door to the employees’ break room, where my locker held my clean clothes. I washed up really fast, then rejoined Alicia and Emmy in the front office. I didn’t want Emmy to tell Alicia anything that I might regret later.

“Shall we go? I asked Emmy.

“But of course!” she chirped, and we said goodbye to Alicia and Bob (who had entered the office while I was washing up) and left.

Once in the car, I asked “Em, when are your parents coming back?”

“The thirteenth, I think,” she responded.

“That’s over three weeks away!” I exclaimed. “You’re on your own that whole time?”

“I am not exactly on my own,” she objected. “Half the staff is still at the house.”

“That’s not the same. What are you doing for Christmas?”

“I had not thought about it. In my family, Christmas isn’t an important day.”

“You don’t celebrate Christmas?” I asked, surprised. “Well, it’s settled then. You’re having Christmas at our house.” I said it with finality, making it clear that it wasn’t up for debate. “In fact, you’re spending Christmas Eve, too.”

With a look of amusement on her charcoal black face, she asked “That leaves tonight. Oh, what shall I do tonight?” she asked melodramatically, in a pitch-perfect English aristocratic accent, holding the back of her hand to her head as if she were about to faint like a lady in a costume drama set in Victorian times.

“Whoa,” I said in surprise. “You can do accents? What happened to your French accent?”

“Of course I can do accents, my dear lady,” Emmy relied in that same perfect Queen’s English. “Would you prefer me to speak this way all of the time? For you, I shall, if you so desire.”

“No,” I said, laughing. “I like your French accent better. It’s more ‘you’ somehow.”

She laughed, too. “Accents is fun, y’know?” she asked in a hillbilly voice this time. “Iss funny ta see how ev’rbuddy reax when I talk differnt.”

“O.K, O.K., knock it off already!”

Emmy just laughed. “If yew insiss.”

“I’ll ask my mom if you can stay tonight, too. You shouldn’t have to stay by yourself. That’s just not right.”

Mom and Tiff were already home when we got there. When I asked Mom if Emmy could stay with us for a few days over Christmas, Tiff exploded with enthusiasm over the idea. She was so excited by the idea of Emmy staying at our house I was afraid she would wet herself. She was jumping and squeaking, zooming around Mom like some kind of demented elf on a sugar high.

Mom really had no way to say no when faced with an assault like Tiff’s. It helped that Mom liked Emmy, of course, and when I played the guilt card (“Her parents have gone to Paris, so there’s nobody home for her to have Christmas with”) it was a done deal.

When Mom agreed that Emmy could stay with us for a few days, Emmy was very grateful. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Farmer. It is very kind of you.”

“There’s no need for formality, Emmy. Call me Sandra. Lee told me that your family is very formal, but here is a different story. Speaking of your house, do you need to go to your house to get some clothes?” Mom asked.

“Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me.”

“If you go now, dinner should be just about ready by the time you come back,” Mom said.

“That is a good idea. Leah, would you like to come?” Emmy asked, but Mom said “If Leah’s going to have a guest over, she needs to do some cleaning to get her room ready.”

“I’ll go! Can I go, Mom?” asked Tiff, bouncing in her eagerness to see Emmy’s house.

“Would that be O.K.?” Mom asked Emmy.

“But of course! I would love to show my house to Tiffany,” Emmy replied, and off the two went.

As soon as Emmy’s car pulled out of the lot, I asked Mom “What’s up? Why were you in such a hurry to get rid of Emmy?”

“Lee, we need to talk about this,” she began, and I could immediately see the way this conversation was going. I wanted no part of it, either.

“I know the two of you are excited to be in a new relationship. I can understand that.” Ignoring my groan of protest, she continued. “When we last discussed this, you told me that you two weren’t physically intimate.”

“Oh, jeeze, Mom,” I complained. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Yes, it seems we do. I just want to be sure that the two of you are being careful, with your health as well as emotionally.”

“What do you mean?”

“I would hope that the health part is obvious. Even though neither of you can get pregnant, safe sex is still important.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re worried I might get some kind of V.D.?” I protested, my face growing redder by the moment. “Even if we were having that kind of relationship, you don’t have to worry. She was a virgin. The chance of her having anything communicable is zero.” After the words slipped out I desperately prayed that Mom wouldn’t catch on to what I’d just dropped.

“H.I.V. isn’t only transmitted through intercourse. You know that,” Mom chided, staying calm even as I was freaking out. Apparently she hadn’t noticed my unfortunate choice in words. “All I am saying is, I want you to be careful.”

“It isn’t an issue, Mom. Can we just drop it?” I was pretty upset by this time. This was absolutely not what I wanted to be talking to my mom about at all, but she wasn’t ready to drop it.

“Lee, I also want you to think about the ramifications of a physical relationship.” I noticed that she was avoiding just coming out and saying ‘having sex’, but it was just as clear. “You two are young, and sometimes these things seem to mean the entire world when you’re young. All I ask is that you try to keep a perspective on things.”

“Are you telling me you think that me and Emmy being in love is a mistake? Is that it?” I demanded. “Because it’s not. She’s sweet, beautiful, talented, and she loves me. It makes me happy just to think about her. It makes me happy to see her. When she isn’t around, I keep thinking about when I’m going to see her next. If that isn’t right, I have no fucking idea what is.” I was practically yelling at this point, I was so worked up. “So don’t tell me what to do, or who to love.”

“Lee, please watch your language. There is no call for that in this house.” Her reprimand was spoken just as evenly as everything else Mom had said so far, and I think that’s what made it so effective.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“But that isn’t what I meant, either. The point I was trying to make is that there is more for you to deal with in your life right now than just this relationship, no matter how it seems right now. There’s still the rest of the school year, college applications, even your work with Bob and at the yogurt place. You need to keep it in perspective.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I admitted, giving in to Mom’s onslaught of sensible advice. “But I’m doing well in school, working as many hours as I can at the nursery during winter break, and keeping up with my workouts. I don’t see myself as losing perspective,” I said defensively. “In fact, it seems to me I’m doing pretty damned well. And part of that is my relationship with my-“ I was about to say ‘girlfriend’ but that sounded weird in my mind, so I changed it to “with Emmy.”

“Yes, you are doing well right now. All I want is for you to keep doing well, and not let your relationship be a distraction.” With that, Mom was finished. “Now go get your room ready. I’m assuming that you two will want to sleep together?”

“When you say it like that it sounds… I don’t know. Just not right, somehow,” I grumbled. “But yeah, I was thinking that Emmy would stay with me in my room.”

By the time Emmy and Tiff came back, I’d straightened up my room and cleaned up the living room and hall bath, too. I didn’t want Mom to have anything to complain about. I figured that the fewer justifications she could have to complain about having Emmy over the better. I wanted to make this as perfect as I possibly could.

I was sound asleep, Emmy nestled in my arms, when the bedroom door opened. The sound jolted me awake to see Tiff silhouetted in the dim light from the doorway.

“Lee- Leah? Can I stay with you?” she asked, in a little voice.

“What is wrong?” asked Emmy, climbing out of bed. I could see her white hair, camisole and P.J. shorts but in the darkness I couldn’t make out her legs and arms at all because her skin was so black. She just kind of disappeared in the darkness. It was kind of weird, seeing what seemed to be floating clothes in the dark room. As Emmy got to where Tiff stood in the doorway I could finally make her out completely, dispelling the image of the invisible girl I had in my mind.

“I had a bad dream,” Tiff replied, a slight sob in her voice.

“Let us go back to your room and you can tell me all about it,” Emmy said, in her most soothing voice. She took Tiff’s hand and led her away, leaving my door open. I heard the two as they talked in quiet voices in Tiff’s room (the door must be open, I thought). Soon, I heard Emmy start to sing to Tiff. She sang gently and quietly, and I couldn’t quite make it out. A little bit later Emmy returned and climbed back into bed.

“Thanks. She gets bad dreams a lot.”

“She is too young to have to face fears like that,” Emmy said. Then, changing gears, she added “She is so precious. You are lucky to have a sister like her.”

“I don’t feel lucky when she wakes me up in the middle of the night,” I grumbled.

“Oh, but you are. I wish I had a little sister just like her. I would spoil her rotten if she were mine.”

“Feel free,” I replied, just wanting to get back to sleep. As Emmy snuggled back up against me I felt a kiss, making me smile as I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up early to get ready for work. Emmy was still sound asleep when I returned from my shower. A moment of deja vu hit me, recalling the first time she’d slept in my bed. I’d been so confused then, so unsure of what Emmy and I were to each other, and what it meant about me that I couldn’t even deal with it.

Now, a month later, I realized it didn’t mean anything. Well, anything other than that I loved her, and she loved me. That’s all. Of course, when I say “that’s all” I mean that to me, it means everything.

Emmy stayed asleep as I got dressed and ready for the day at the nursery. Alicia had asked if I could come in even though it was Christmas Eve, and I’d agreed because I needed the money. That was before I’d asked Emmy to spend the time with us, but no way could I bail on Alicia and Bob with such short notice.

I kissed Emmy goodbye, waking her up to tell her I was leaving. She just looked confused in that ‘it’s too early for my eyes to focus’ way, and then put her head back down and went back to sleep, as amazingly beautiful as can be.

Work was way busier than I’d expected. It surprised me how many people bought Christmas trees on Christmas Eve.

“It’s the twelve days of Christmas,” Bob explained. “They actually start tomorrow, on the 25th. Some people still celebrate that way.”

Emmy called at about ten o’clock. “I have not gotten presents for Tiffany or your mother. I know what I want to get for your sister, but what is an appropriate gift for your mother?” she asked.

“Well, hello to you, too,” I teased.

“Oh- good morning, Leah” she replied in a sheepish tone. I heard a kissing noise. “I wish you had woken me up before you left.”

“I did. I told you I was going to work, but you just went back to sleep.”

“Oh.”

“Anyhow, to answer your question, she likes books. Especially thriller novels. It’s kinda funny, because she teaches English composition, but she loves trashy thrillers.”

“O.K., that is what I will get for her, then. Can I pick you up after work?”

“That’d be great. I get off at four.”

Working in the greenhouse that afternoon, I had some peace and quiet to think about things. By ‘things’ I mean Emmy and me. I realized that sleeping together in the same bed, then waking up to go to work like I had, her calling me, planning on picking me up after work- this was all like a real grown-up type relationship. With Chris, it had been about holding hands and making out when we had a few hours of privacy before our parents got home. In other words, a stereotypical teenage relationship. But with Emmy, it was beginning to feel very, very different. I was starting to see the shape of how things could be for us. We could have our own place together, as a couple. We could go shopping for furniture together, and watch late night TV snuggled up on our own couch. When it came time to visit her parents (or Mom and Tiff) we could do so together, because we wouldn’t be hiding what we were from them.

Thinking about a possible life with Emmy gave me a rush of excitement and a sort of nervous giddiness, until my thoughts wandered to college. Emmy was so convinced we’d both be together at Stanford, but I had my doubts. Maybe her good grades and tons of money could insure her being accepted there, but I didn’t have tons of money. I mean, the V Ball coach had made it seem as if he could get me in, but if I couldn’t get enough scholarship money there was no way I could ever afford a top private university. It just wasn’t in the cards.

If I couldn’t get in or afford to go, would Emmy be willing to skip Stanford to go to Cal State Long Beach with me? I just couldn’t see it. Her parents had her life so programmed, so planned out. As far as they were concerned, it was a Stanford MBA for their little princess, and nothing less would do. And anyway, what would I major in? A year or two of general ed at a state school while figuring out what I wanted to be when I grew up was O.K. and all, but a school like Stanford was going to be way too challenging and competitive to waste any time at all. Not to mention way too expensive…

I was getting all bummed out thinking about my college future, wondering how I was going to deal with the costs and demands that will be expected of me when my phone rang, startling me so badly I dropped the fern I was carrying.

It was Alicia, calling to find out where I was. “Lee, your friend Emmy is here in the office. Where are you, anyway? Bob told me he hasn’t seen you for a while.”

“Oh, jeeze. I guess I lost track of the time. I’ve been here in the south greenhouse,” I said, holding the phone with my shoulder while I swept the soil back into the pot with my gloved hands.

“Well, four o’clock was almost half an hour ago,” Alicia replied. “Your ride is waiting. Finish whatever it is you’re doing and get your butt over here.”

When I got to the office Emmy was waiting by her car, holding a pretty little white poinsettia in a gold foil-wrapped pot. She held it up, and said “Alicia told me that these are traditional Christmas gifts. I am taking this for your mother.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” I replied. I knew full well that Mom wasn’t the ‘holiday spirit’ kind of person, but I was reasonably sure she’d appreciate the gesture. “Just give me a moment to get cleaned up,” I said as I headed into the office.

“I will wait out here,” Emmy replied, loading the flowerpot into the back of her Mini. I saw that there were some wrapped packages back there as well.

Driving back to my place, I asked “So what did you do today, dear?” The phrase was intentionally domestic, reflecting my afternoon’s thoughts.

“Tiffany and I watched the Muppet Movie, then I did some shopping. After that it was time to pick you up from work. That was my day,” she replied, blissfully unaware of the mental turmoil I’d been in for the last few hours.

When we got home I helped Emmy carry in the poinsettia and the three Christmas presents. Mine was a good-sized box, Tiff’s was quite small, and Mom’s was, well, book-sized, but kinda light. We placed the gifts under the tree, but left the poinsettia on the landing next to our front door.

Mom and Tiff weren’t home, so Emmy had some time to herself to practice the guitar while I showered and cleaned off the work that had followed me home. I liked working with plants, but the thing is- they grow in dirt. It’s unavoidable. It meant two showers a day, which did my skin no favors.

When I finished my shower, I heard voices- Mom and Tiff had gotten home. I could hear Emmy still playing Dad’s old guitar, too. Somehow, I found it all very comforting. I could just make out the song Emmy was playing- it was Kermit’s song from the Muppet Movie, the one he sings about rainbows. As many times as Tiff has watched that movie I really should know the songs by heart, but somehow I don’t. I guess it didn’t take Emmy long to learn Kermit’s song, which I found amazing. I mean, she’d just heard it for the first time that morning, right?

When I walked in to the living room, Emmy and Tiff were on the couch- Tiff was sitting on Emmy’s lap, holding the too-big guitar while Emmy reached around her to show her how to finger the frets. I joined Mom in the kitchen offering to help with dinner.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it under control,” she replied. “You know what you could do, though? You could do some dishes. That’d be a real help.”

We didn’t talk as we worked. We were both listening to Emmy teaching Tiff a few simple melodies she could manage with her little hands.

After a while, Mom said to me in a low voice that wouldn’t carry to the living room “She really is amazing, Lee. It’s hard to believe anybody could be so…” she trailed off, looking for the right word.

“Perfect?” I suggested.

“Yeah, that works. It wasn’t exactly what I was trying to say, but I guess it does a good job of describing Emmy. She’s almost unbelievable, how ‘perfect’ she is all the time. She’s pretty, charming, polite, all the things you wish teenagers could be but never are.”

“I love you too, Mom,” I teased.

“I’m trying to be serious, Lee. Emmy seems too good to be true. I keep waiting for the bad news. I keep feeling it has to be there somewhere.”

“I don’t see why it does. I mean, why can’t she be just the way she seems?”

“She probably is,” admitted Mom. “It’s just hard to imagine anybody like her in today’s world. She’s like some kind of Disney princess come to life.”

“I told you her parents call her that, haven’t I?” I asked. “Princess, I mean. I never once heard them use her name. When they spoke to her, they called her ‘Princess’, and when they referred to Emmy when talking to me, they called her 'The Princess.’ I thought it was cute, but Emmy didn’t seem to like it. Actually, everybody at her house calls her Princess. The housekeepers, the cook, everybody.”

“Well, there you go,” Mom replied. “Of course, Disney princesses all have some kind of curse on them…” she said, absentmindedly.

Later, when Tiff was done with her bath, she asked “Can Emmy sleep with me tonight?” with a hopeful expression.

“Oh, Tiffany! I cannot sleep with you!” Emmy replied.

“Why not?” demanded Tiff, pouting.

“Your bed is too little! There is no way I could fit,” Emmy responded. Her white teeth shone in her pitch-black face as she smiled broadly. “But I will sing you a lullaby. How would that be?”

Tiff thought about it for a moment, then gave in. “O.K., but you’ll check for monsters too, right?”

“Of course I will. I do not want any monsters to eat you before I do.”

With a serious expression, Tiff demanded “But you said your people don’t eat kids any more?”

“No, that is true. We do not eat children any more. I was just teasing you.”

“You can’t fool me. I knew you were just saying that.” With a triumphant air as if she’d just won a Presidential debate, Tiff led Emmy to her bedroom, pulling her by the hand.

When Emmy shut the door behind her Mom took the opportunity to listen quietly by the door. I could her low voices, then Emmy started to sing. I couldn’t make out what it was she was singing, but I have to admit it did sound soothing.

Satisfied, Mom came back to the kitchen. “It seems both my daughters are crazy about the Princess.”

“I guess,” I replied. “Mom-” I started to say, but then clammed up, unsure how to proceed.

“Yes?” asked Mom, as she carried her laptop over to the table.

“Well, it’s just- I mean, today I was thinking. About Emmy and me.”

“What exactly were you thinking?” she asked, looking at me over the opened screen of the computer.

I may as well get it out, I thought, so I plunged ahead. “I was thinking that maybe the two of us could have a future together. I had, like, this vision of the two of us, with our own apartment. It felt right, somehow.”

“Lee, honey,” Mom said, sighing. “In a few months you’re going to graduate from high school. Then, before either of us is ready, it’ll be time for you to go off to college. Soon after that you’re going to legally become an adult. My best advice to you is to enjoy this last bit of adolescence. There’s no need to take things too seriously at this point in your life.”

“But that’s just it, Mom,” I responded a little hotly. “I am just about to take on life as an adult. And this, with her,” I said, waving in the direction of Tiff’s room, “well, it feels like an adult relationship. This just doesn’t feel like some teenage crush. What I feel for Emmy isn’t just puppy love. It’s real, Mom, and it makes me happy. Emmy makes me happy. When I’m with her I feel…” I trailed off, at a loss for words.

“Lee… it always feels that way to teenagers. I’m not saying that to demean what the two of you have, but-”

“It’s just a phase, right?” I snapped. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

“No, no, honey. That’s not what I meant,” Mom said, trying to soothe my irritation. “What I was trying to say is that you two have your lives to live. You’re young, and trying to be an adult too soon is a mistake.”

Any further discussion on the matter was shelved when we heard Emmy emerge from Tiff’s room.

“Is she asleep? Mom asked.

“Yes. Tiffany is sleeping peacefully. I hope she has only good dreams tonight.”

“I know I will,” I said. “For some reason I always sleep like a log on Christmas Eve.”

The next morning, Tiff barged into my room at approximately half an hour before any reasonable time to get up. “Wake up! It’s Christmas! Get up!”

I rubbed my eyes, wondering how that little kid could be so bright-eyed and bushy tailed so damned early in the morning. Emmy cracked her eyes open a little bit, and waved Tiff to come over. When Tiff came over to the side of the bed, Emmy put her arms out for a hug.

“Good morning, Tiffany. How did you sleep last night?”

“I slept great! I didn’t even have any bad dreams!” Tiff answered. “Now you two need to get up so we can open presents!”

“O.K., O.K.,” I grumbled, sitting up. Emmy was slowly climbing out of bed, not looking ready to face the day at all. Somehow, though, even in her sleepy just-got-out-of-bed state she managed to look beautiful as she did her leisurely cat-like stretch. I don’t know how she did it, but Emmy didn’t even have a hint of bed hair. I’m sure I looked frightening, but there was nothing to do about it. Tiff’s insistence was not to be denied.

We stumbled into the living room, Emmy in her camisole and PJ shorts, me in my oversized T-shirt and boxers. Mom was up and dressed, making pancakes. The smell was wonderful. “Mom, is there any coffee?” I asked, hopefully.

“No, sorry. You’ll have to wake up naturally.”

“But I want to wake up artificially!” I whined, making Mom laugh.

“Presents! Now!” Tiff demanded, making Mom smile. Emmy and I followed Tiff into the living room, where the lights on the tree lit up the still dim space. It made me feel good, so warm and comfortable in the family surroundings, with Emmy holding my hand. I realized that this was the first PDA we’d done since Emmy came to stay with us for the holidays. I had been avoiding any gestures of affection for Emmy in front of Mom and Tiff just to keep Mom from saying anything, but holding hands couldn’t hurt, could it? I decided that I didn’t care if Mom didn’t like it. Emmy was my girlfriend, and she was just going to have to accept it.

The first thing Tiff did was look at the labels and distribute all the presents. She had her pile, which was at least twice as large as the rest of ours combined. I had a few things, including that big box from Emmy. Mom had a few, and Emmy had just one present- a little bitty box from me.

Tiff, before she opened any presents, went over to Emmy and said “I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present. I didn’t know you were going to be here for Christmas. All I have for you is this,” and she gave Emmy a big, long hug, then shyly handed her a folded up piece of paper. Emmy unfolded it and gasped softly, putting her hand to her mouth. After a few moments, she turned it so I could see the drawing Tiff had done of Emmy and me holding hands under a yellow sun. Emmy returned the hug, and as they parted, she gave Tiffany a kiss on her forehead.

“That was a wonderful gift, Tiffany. Thank you very much.”

It was all too cute for me, and I had to fight the sentimental tears welling up in my eyes.

“I want you to stay with us all the time,” Tiff said to Emmy. “I want you to marry Leah and move in with us.”

I was shocked by this, and I saw a look of surprise on Mom’s face, too. She tried to cover it up as quickly as she could, but there was no mistaking it.

“That is very sweet of you to say, Tiffany,” Emmy said. “Leah and I have not discussed marriage yet. It is still too early for that. But if we do, will you be our flower girl?”

The idea seemed to thrill Tiff, and she excitedly agreed.

Mom broke in at that point. “Now, Emmy, don’t get Tiffy too worked up. She doesn’t really understand the whole concept at her age. Besides, talk of marriage at this point is far too premature. Let’s just think about today, and put all this aside.”

I knew what Mom was doing- she was trying to keep a lid on our relationship, but not denying it existed. She was way too liberal to actually say anything negative about me being with another girl, and most definitely not in front of Tiff. She was too old-fashioned, though, to really be comfortable with the idea. I suspected I was going to have to deal with this sort of passive-aggressive acceptance/denial for a long time. It wasn’t going to go away on its own.

Tiff’s presents were the usual assortment of horse figurines, stuffed animals, books and so on that she always got from the relatives. The surprise was the gift from Emmy, a tiny little iPod about the size of a large postage stamp. It had an itty-bitty touch screen, and the back was a metallic pink color.

“I put some music on it already. I picked out songs I think you will like,” Emmy explained.

Mom seemed a little bothered by this gift. I figured she was going to have something to say later, probably about it being too expensive for a seven-year-old. No way would she say it in front of Tiff, though.

The big box Emmy had given me turned out to be a new laptop computer. Big but amazingly light with its aluminum case, it had every bell and whistle possible. I was stunned. “Em,” I protested. “This must have cost a fortune. You shouldn’t have spent this kind of money on me.”

“Why not?” She looked honestly puzzled at my complaint.

“Well, it’s just… too much. Seriously. I can’t take this. It’s way to much.”

“Yes, you can,” Emmy said sternly. “You need a new computer for college, after all. Buying the best now means that you will not need another for years. This is not just a simple gift. It is also an investment in your future. And the cost, well, it is not an issue as far as I am concerned. I had the money, and this is how I wanted to spend it.” With this, Emmy clearly considered the matter over. I was sure Mom didn’t think so, and we were no doubt going to ‘have a talk’ later. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but tried to put it out of my mind and get back to enjoying Christmas.

Tiff, who had opened the package the little iPod came in, was dancing around listening to the music Emmy had put on it for her. She was singing loudly and off-key to a Beatles song about getting old and going bald, which was pretty comical for a seven-year-old girl to sing. Emmy was laughing and clapping her hands, and it seemed as if even Mom was enjoying the sight. I felt Emmy’s hand slip into mine, and I gave it a squeeze. Yeah, this could just be it, I thought. Emmy made me feel so warm and comfortable, so incredibly good. If this could go on forever I’d be a happy girl.

I held out the small present I had for Emmy, and leaning in, gave her a little kiss on the lips. Heck, If Tiff thinks we’re going to get married, then she certainly isn’t going to be bothered by seeing me and Emmy kiss each other, right?

“Open it,” I said, a bit shyly. “It doesn’t compare to what you got me, but I hope you’ll like it.”

Emmy carefully unwrapped the small velvet box, then looked up at me. She was so charmingly nervous about what might be inside that I couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. “Open it!” I urged, impatient.

Flipping the lid open, the look of surprise and wonder on her inky black face was immediately followed by one of complete happiness, telling me that my gift wasn’t too, I don’t know, presumptuous or something. Emmy took the little silver ring and slipped it on her middle finger, and admired the clear green stone.

“Oh Leah,” she breathed. “Oh, Leah.”

“I couldn’t afford an emerald, so that’s actually a green garnet,” I explained, somewhat apologetically. “And I wanted to get you a gold ring, but…” My words were cut off when Emmy threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly, giving me a big, no-mistake-about-it-we-are-lovers kiss. No PDAs in front of the family, right? I guess not so much. Emmy finally let me take a breath when Mom coughed meaningfully, her none too subtle way of letting us know that she wasn’t so O.K. with us making out on the couch.

We unwrapped ourselves from each other, sheepish looks on our faces. Tiff was still dancing around, listening to her new iPod, and Mom was unwrapping the present that Emmy had gotten her, which turned out to be an e-book reader, the new one with the color screen. There was also a gift card for a hundred dollars worth of downloads. Mom looked as if she were going to start her ‘this is way too expensive’ protests again, but when I caught her eye I gave her a quick little shake of my head to let her know she should drop it. ‘Later’ I mouthed, and she got the hint. I didn’t want anything to ruin the day, and an argument in front of Tiff was a sure way to do it.

I knew that as soon as Tiff and Emmy were out of earshot I’d have to deal with Mom’s unhappiness about the costly gifts, but for now, I just wanted peace on Earth. Well, peace in our little house, anyway.

Tiff had flopped down next to Emmy to ask about something on her new iPod, and Emmy was explaining that she had to be very careful not to lose it, so it had to be restricted to use in the house only. No taking it to school or listening while playing outside.

I was busy with my new laptop, setting up the Wi-Fi connection. Listening with one ear to Emmy talking with Tiff, again it struck me how amazingly domestic and absolutely heart warming the scene the two presented. Tiff adored Emmy, and it certainly seemed as if Emmy felt the same about my little sister.

Emmy had quickly become one of the family and both Tiff and I were glad of it. Mom, well, she still needed more time.

The rest of the morning went well. Mom stayed away from the topic of expensive gifts, and I sure wasn’t going to bring it up. Instead, we talked about nothing important during breakfast and clean up afterwards. Still, there was an elephant in the room, and both Mom and I knew it. Thankfully, Emmy and Tiff seemed completely oblivious.