A Christmas Sampler a Christmas Anthology by Andrea DiMaggio for Alison - My Heroine

Jessica sat at the end of the couch; her clothing seemed so out of place with the other girls in the group. Nina wore a corduroy dress, blue with leather trim at the collar and the sleeve cuffs, along with a fringe at the calf-lenth skirt. Connie wore a cocoa brown sweater over a cream colored cotton shift. Nancy had come from work; her blue jeans were distressed, and the blue cotton workshirt was unbuttoned, revealing a black cami.

The other girls wore similar clothing; dresses and skirts and blouses. Even the jeans were pretty. Jessica looked down at herself. The non-descript blue jeans and tee shirt accompanied only by a maroon work smock that had a Shop-Rite Logo sewn over the pocket. Her name tag read James.

Theresa moved about the kitchen, singing softly to herself; the aroma of garlic and oregano and tomato filled the air.

"And the glory...the glory of the lord...."

She felt a soft hand touch her cheek, giving her a start. She turned and faced the love of her life, the young man smiling sweetly, but with eyes filled with tears. She kissed him softly on the lips, evoking a cry.

“We have to talk,” the young man said. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob.

“No….” Her face twisted into a mask of tears of grief and fear as he nodded ‘yes,’ once before the two embraced.

Dylan sat at the table. Eileen stared at him as if he had two heads. She stood with her hand to her chin and tapped the end of the rattail comb against her head in thought. She smiled at him and then set out to comb her brother’s hair while whistling I Enjoy Being A Girl. Dylan shrugged once and smiled even as the tears welled up in his eyes thinking about his first date.

Julia looked out the window, hoping against hope as she watched the car turn the corner at the end of the block, heading her way. Her contact prescription was two years old, and she had to wait until the car was almost right by the house before sighing as it drove past. She looked down at the letter in her hand,

I’ll be at my mother’s, Cheryl.

Julia crumpled the piece of paper and wept.

Jimmy and Betsy stared at the letter, tears streaming down their cheeks.

Denied

The paper taunted them as they looked down at the empty crib. Jimmy turned to his wife and touched her cheek.

“It’s okay…really,” even as he remembered his father’s cruel words against his daughter-in-law while he insisted he that he loved his son. The need for a grandchild outweighed everything that Jimmy had been taught; love and kindness were set aside and his wife became shameful in his father's eyes.

The girl ran around the track, passing her two teammates and the four girls from the other team. She was almost ten meters in front of the next fastest girl and looked sure to win when she suddenly pulled up lame and fell to the track. She used her arms to push her self up just in time to see her rival from Highland Springs cross the finish line to win the race. She stiffled a cry as she remembered the words her father said to her the night before…

"Let them win!"

Shari couldn’t believe it. She walked down the hall, excited that the girls in her gym class had actually invited her to a party. She walked into chem class just in time to see two of her classmates standing by the window with their backs to her. She sat down at her seat, and was still smiling when the girls turned to her and laughed, pointing at her and saying,

“Gotcha!” They laughed again and several of the kids in class joined in. Her face became warm and her eyes filled with tears before her teacher stood up and clapped her hands hard to get their attention.

“Before we get into polymers, I want to talk to you about something important...about myself….”

Callie almost skipped down the hallway; she had finally convinced Coach Chen, and would be a starting guard that evening. She turned a corner and found a group of kids pointing to a girl who was sitting awkwardly on the hall floor. She noticed that the girl was crying and the kids around her teased and taunted as she struggled to get up. Callie reached down and helped the girl to her feet. She was shorter than Callie, and dressed in Near-Goth. The kids continued to laugh until Callie smiled once before kissing the girl and hugging her. She turned to the crowd and said,

“Mess with her, and you mess with me!”

“I see you’re in boy-mode today.” Phyllis smiled warmly; it wasn’t an indictment, merely an observation.

“My mom keeps complaining…like why don’t you have any friends; if you weren’t so stubborn. Can’t you just do that at home,” the boy sighed. “It’s like she thinks it’s a hobby like my old Pokemon cards. Why doesn’t she understand?”

Cheryl put her head down on the desk. She had been working for six hours, trying to hone her ‘final’ draft one last time. The computer screen bathed the room in an eerie glow.

“Are you coming to dinner?” Her mother called. She looked up and read the time off the computer clock. Six-fifty-four.

“Yeah..I’ll be down in a few minutes.” She sat up and gazed at the document once more.

What it Means to Be a Girl, by Nathaniel Krupinski.... She highlighted the last paragraph and hit backspace, sending her conclusion into the ether.

“Nate…come on, your dinner is getting cold.”

Kevin walked into the church, down the side aisle and slid into the confessional. The dividing panel slid open and he heard the tired sigh on the other side.

“Bless me father, for I have sinned,” He said quickly, almost gasping for air. “It’s been a week since my last confession.” Another heavy sigh, almost as if his voice weighed down the man.

“I dressed in my mom’s clothes….” His voice trailed off. Even then, he was sinning. He had walked from his home; fourteen short blocks. A few blocks of his neighborhood and then store fronts and fast food restaurants and and empty lot. And all the while he thought…every moment from leaving his house, about how mother would feel if she knew her son was doomed to hell for being a girl.

The CD player blared loudly...

"Let it snow...let it snow...let it snow."

“Have you been at my clothes again?” Liz said as she looked in her drawers.

“No, Mom,” the boy stated plainly as he stepped back from his mother's doorway.

“Well, it’s okay, Tony…just be done before your father gets home, okay?

Cindy walked down the aisle of the supermarket. It was fairly crowded for a Tuesday afternoon; Soccer Moms trying to get weekly provisions while the kids were still in school. She passed a stroller at the end of the aisle, nearly running into the baby’s mother as she stared at the smiling infant. She excused herself and quickly walked to the small ladies room. Locking the door, she stood at the sink and looked at herself in the mirror.

Her stomach was flat; in the right context she’d be the envy of nearly every woman in the store. But that day she looked down and could only see lack. She thought again of the baby in the stroller before covering her face as she wept.

Next: Jessica's Story