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Previously, Christmas morning, Dunkin' Donuts, Morris Plains, New Jersey...around five in the morning...

Recalling her late arrival, due to a hastily grabbed coffee that evening as well, she felt guilty that she hadn’t been able to stop who ever had attacked the woman. And the guilt oddly gave way to a curious new feeling as Michael remembered how attracted to the girl she was, despite a very pronounced black eye. And the thought of attraction led to distraction as she failed to notice the figure approaching the entrance at the same time. A collision followed, resulting in two bodies tangled on the ground at the front of the store. She shook off the bump on the head she received when they collided and stood up. A moment later she offered her hand in assistance to the woman who still sat awkwardly on the sidewalk. The woman looked up at her and was only crying a little bit, but she could be forgiven, since it was five AM on Christmas morning and she did have a very rough time only the night before.

“I’m so sorry, Miss…” Michael said tentatively, failing to recognize the woman before her, who spoke softly while wiping her face with her coat sleeve; wincing only slightly as she rubbed the sleeve against her badly bruised cheek. She held her hand out in greeting and said,

“M…Merry Christmas, Officer…” She looked at the name plate opposite the badge and continued,

“Officer Callahan."

"I'm sorry, please excuse my clumsiness...I'm Michael...Michael Callahan." It was only at that moment that the girl recognized the police officer and that the officer was a very handsome...woman. She smiled nervously as her cheeks grew hot and red.

"Hello, Michael Callahan. My name is O'Rourke...Caden O'Rourke.”

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Minutes later...

Codail suan, mo chaora bhan, codail samh, a mhuirnin mhilis,
Luigh go ciuin sa chlaiabhan, dun do shuil, a leanbh dhilis...

“Dark, no sugar; a girl after my own heart,” Michael said with a laugh as she sat down, placing the coffee and blueberry muffin in front of Caden.

“I’ve never cared for sweet drinks; I don’t even put sugar in ice tea,” Caden volunteered; immediately feeling self-conscious, as if talking about personal tastes was somehow too personal.

“Have you ever noticed that coffee, as good as it tastes, smells even better when it’s fresh ground before it’s brewed?” Michael looked away, feeling almost as awkward as the young woman at the table with her.

“Oh yes…it’s almost like you wish you could eat it,” Caden added before feeling foolish as her face grew hot and red with embarrassment.

“Hey…” Michael said, reaching into her pocket. The interruption allowed Caden a moment to compose herself; even if there wasn’t anything foolish with what she had just said, she still felt foolish.

“I believe this is yours,” Michael produced a small, shiny object.

“Ohh…Nonee’s ring!” She squealed and immediately grew red once again. Michael noticed and patted the girl’s hand, intending to put the girl at ease. It had just the opposite effect, and the girl quickly pulled her hand away; hard enough to swing her hand back into the window frame behind her, banging it loudly.

“Miss O’Rourke? Easy, okay. It’s only a little past five on Christmas, and at the rate you’re going, I’ll have to take you to the hospital. Relax. I won’t bite. I promise.” Michael laughed again, and this time the young lady felt more at ease with the unexpected kind and almost soft demeanor that the handsome woman displayed.

“Oh…I’m sorry….this ring is special….it’s been in our family for generations, and I’ve been given the privilege to carry it on to the next.” Caden sighed. As special as she claimed the ring was, her tone seemed almost discouraged. Michael noticed and leaned a bit closer, gazing intently as the girl collected herself.

“I’m…this is the last generation of O’Rourkes. I have no cousins and no brothers or sisters. My older brother died when I was little, so it’s just me to carry on the name, but….” She hadn’t meant to get so personal, but the words she had so hastily and hurtfully exchanged with her mother seemed to condemn her; as if being herself was the reason why the legacy of the O’Rourke family name had come to a screeching halt. Michael went to put her hand on the girl’s wrist, but thought better of it and spoke instead.

“So what brings you out to this fine eating establishment on Christmas morning?”

“I…I was on my way back to HoJo’s over in Cedar Knolls…by the Buick dealership, you know?” She looked over Michael’s shoulder in the general direction of the motel miles away.

“You’re from out of town?” Michael asked.

“No…I…I don’t have a place to stay at the moment.” The girl sighed. She had a place to stay, but only if she was willing to forget the past five plus years and be just what her mother expected.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Michael didn’t even know the girl, but she felt she almost owed her the opportunity; like a hastily wrapped last-minute Christmas gift for the grab bag at work.

“My mom…we don’t get along.” By get along, Caden was being kind, since her mother was unlikely to accept her daughter in this lifetime. She sighed and continued.

“I’m not exactly what my mom expected when she was expecting, you know?” A casual throwaway finish, but Michael did know. Even if they had a great relationship now, when Michael first came out to her parents it had been very disappointing and hurtful. She knew exactly how Caden felt even if she didn’t know why.

“My Mom and Dad had a hard time….you know?” Michael’s words almost reflected Caden’s; like a mirror image, the reverse view. She continued.

“I’m fine now. We …my Mom and me…we get along just fine, but when I told her and Daddy that I was lez, they hit the roof.” The word ‘lez’ shocked Caden; by its candor almost as much as by her tone.

“You’re a lesbian?” Caden tried to sound casual, but it came out much more abrupt than she had meant. Michael knew that the girl was ill at ease for much more than her revelation just then.

“Oh yes. We Callahans come from a long line of lesbians, dating back to the late 70’s.” She laughed, but Caden’s eyes seemed to glaze over as she pondered the remark.

“It’s a joke, Miss O’Rourke. You can laugh if you like.” Almost as a prompt, Michael laughed; a louder heartier laugh that was strong and clear but as appealingly feminine as Caden might have hoped for, had she been aware of her own feelings at the moment.

“What’s put your mother off? Leave your socks on the floor? Put ketchup on her meatloaf?” The intent had been to lighten the mood for the girl’s benefit, but the mood got suddenly dark.

“No…she hates me. Something that you might….well, like you said about you and your parents? It goes on every day and every night. When I was born...I was her little lamb, you know? Now? She can’t stand who I am.”

She almost added, ‘I can’t stand who I am,’ since both statements were true. Michael leaned even closer, her face reflecting the understanding that Caden sought. She certainly hadn’t meant to reveal so much to a stranger, but Michael’s face was kind and strong, almost manly in a feminine way, if that makes sense. Caden felt safe.

“I can’t imagine anyone hating you, Miss O’Rourke.” Michael said. Now it was her turn to say more than she intended. She hoped that her words were the only thing that went too far, but she felt her own face grow hot with embarrassment. She retreated quickly.

“I’ve got to head out to work in a bit. I don’t mean to presume, but after what you just said?” Michael looked over Caden’s shoulder out the window. It had started to snow….A white Christmas, she mused.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Caden’s face grew red once again and she lowered her head, shrugging her shoulders; her grandmother had flown back to Denver the afternoon after their lunch the other day.

“That settles it. I’m all alone for Christmas. My mom is visiting my sibs out west for the holiday.” She paused, remembering her mother’s trip was more than just a family visit. She sighed almost too quickly before continuing,

“I’ve got some salmon to cook and salt potatoes and some kale. I know it’s nothing special, but you’re welcome to come over. You really shouldn’t be alone on Christmas.” She smiled awkwardly. Something about her tone left the words sounding protective and warm and welcoming instead of a lecture, and Caden smiled at her and spoke.

“You really don’t mind?”

“Of course not…you don’t bite, do you Miss O’Rourke?” She smiled and Caden half-smiled back at the joke. She had begun to doubt almost immediately. She looked away, feeling like she was being rescued instead of invited. Little did she know how close to the truth she was. Nevertheless, she nodded and smiled a half smile.

“Then it’s settled.…I’ve got to get to work,” Michael was almost sorry she had invited the young woman before her. She felt like she didn’t know herself, much less the stranger before her. And whatever it was that the girl’s mother found so upsetting and disappointing, it sure wasn’t apparent. Still, Michael looked at Caden and felt….safe.

“I’ll drop by about six or so to pick you up. You do like salmon…I guess some folks don’t like salmon. I’ve got a steak I can broil. Are you a vegetarian?” Michael felt she was babbling. Caden reached out and touched Michael’s arm and it was Michael’s turn to recoil. She pulled her hand back, but Caden had gripped her strong enough to be carried along with the gesture. She ended up leaning across the table almost nose to nose with Michael. Both women turned red at the same time. Caden sat back and stammered.

“Sss…salmon is fine. Thh...thank you.” She smiled awkwardly as Michael stood up to leave.

“Oh…okay. Then six it is.” She picked up her cap and nodded. There was almost a ‘bye, honey, and see you later’ feel about their parting as Michael walked out.

“Okay…” Caden said finally to no one in particular.

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Dispatch Office…Morristown Police Department....four-thirty-seven that afternoon….

“Yes…I’m sorry, Ma’am….you need to call 911 for an emergency…yes…okay…you say you heard a shot? Hazlett…yes, Ma’am. We’ll have a car out there right away…yes, Ma’am…okay.”

Howard Johnson’s Motor Inn, Cedar Knolls, at about the same time…

“Merry Christmas, Nonee…I’m okay…yes…I’m over at the Howard Johnson’s…no…it was too late…I didn’t want to wake you up…PopPop doesn’t need all the drama….yeah…I can’t take it any more…just a second, okay?” Caden pulled the phone away from her face and choked back a sob.

“No…I’m not crying…well, you know she’s not…no, Nonee…I’m sorry…no…of course I’ll visit…no…I haven’t talked to her since yesterday…what? No…” Caden paused once again. She hadn’t been away from home more than twenty-four hours and already was feeling the burden of her mother’s needs once again.

“Nonee…I’ve got…I wish I could be there too…maybe after the new year I can fly out there…yes….I miss you too. Say hi to PopPop for me, okay?” She hung up the phone. Her grandmother had enough help and certainly enough company. Even if she had wanted to spend Christmas in Denver, she didn’t have the money for the plane fare and she didn’t feel comfortable asking her grandmother for it. She looked down at the ring on her right hand. It had been an engagement ring at one time for several of the O’Rourke women, but it would never end up on Caden’s left hand.

45 Hazlett Street, Morristown…5:01 pm…

“Yes, Ma’am. This house here?” Michael pointed to the bi-level next door and the woman nodded.

“I haven’t heard anything since. She lives with her daughter, but I haven’t seen her daughter’s car today. Christmas of all days. You know, I was just saying to my sister….”

“Excuse me, Ma’am…I’ve got to go check this out….” Michael quickly stepped off the front porch and walked toward the house. As she approached the front of the house, she noticed the front door was wide open, and that there were no lights on in the house. She walked back to the cruiser and called for backup, but with the chance that someone might be hurt inside, she quickly weighed the risk and entered the house with her 38 drawn and a flashlight facing out. A moan came from her left, and she entered the room….

“Ke….ke…” The woman on the floor moaned. Michael knelt down and held the flashlight on the woman on the floor. Her shoulder was bleeding, and she had a gash on her forehead. She heard a noise behind her, and she pivoted on her heel, still kneeling; the neighbor was standing at the doorway.

“Ma’am…please go back to your home…call 911 and say that an officer needs an ambulance at …what’s the number here?”

“Forty —Three”

“Officer needs ambulance for civilian with gunshot wound…..Thanks.” She used her free hand to shoo the woman out the door.

Whoever had broken in had left long before sundown; there were no lights on in the house, and the radio blaring in the kitchen told her that there was electricity. Picking up the flashlight once again she shined it around the room; a living room in complete disarray with books and knickknacks strewn around along with the odd photo frame lying face down, save for one that lay mere inches from her feet. She went to turn her attention back to the woman. The bullet had grazed her shoulder, and it was really more the butt to the head that had hurt her the most. But she stopped, almost in slow motion as she processed what she had seen only moments before.

“Ma’am….the ambulance is on the way. You’re going to okay.” She leaned over and smiled at the woman even as her brain went into overtime. Something seemed odd about one of the photos she had noticed. She shined the light on the floor once again, the beam finally falling on the photo in question.. The young man in the picture looked familiar, but Michael couldn’t place the face. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut but nothing came to mind. A few minutes later the sound of sirens filled the air as another patrol car arrived just behind the ambulance. In seconds the room was filled with activity; the woman was strapped to the gurney and the crew began to take her out of the house.

“Kell….Kell.” The woman moaned once again. The EMT smiled.

“It’s okay, Ma’am…we’ve got you, now. You’re going to be okay.” A moment later they were gone.

“Hey, Mikey…how did you get stuck with Christmas duty. I thought you’d be out west with the family?” A voice came from the doorway as an officer stood with hands on hips shaking his head at the mess.

“And here in my own neighborhood. Fuck…” Peter Krakowski lived down the block from where they stood.

“Somebody was lookin’ for sumthin,’ that’s for sure.” He said, continuing to shake his head.’

“Yep…and by the looks of it they didn’t find it. I don’t think they would have shot her unless she surprised him….assuming it is a him.” Michael looked around as well, her gaze falling once again falling upon the picture on the floor. She pulled a pair of latex gloves out of her back pocket and put them on. She picked up the photo and shined the flashlight on it one last time. The face was nearly screaming at her to recall.

“Photo doesn’t look all that old…kid in his late teens?” She held the photo out for Pete to examine.

“Used to be…fuckin’ ay!” He laughed and shook his head.

“What do you mean, ‘used to be?’” Michael tilted her head to the side.

“Used to be a he…Kellen…O’Rourke. That was his…her mom they just took out of here.” Michael’s eyes widened in shock and recognition.

“Kellen?” She peered at the picture and turned back to face Pete.

“Yeah…I forget what his name …beg your pardon…what’s her fucking name…I gotta make sure I don’t offend anyone…fuck!” He laughed at his own joke and continued.

“Callie? Karen?”

“Caden?”

“Yeah…that’s his…fuck…that’s HER name. Jeez, Mikey...I know about...well, you know ....you," He used his eyes as a glance up and down at her and shook his head.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't begrudge anybody livin' how they want. I just don't get this whole other thing...What the fuck is this world coming to, Mikey?” Pete looked at the photo and shook his head for the last time.

“Anyway, kiddo, Merry Fucking Christmas to you.”

“Yeah….Merry Christmas,” Michael said as Pete walked out the front door.

Realta geala anocht ag luascadh ins an speir, fuaim na coille agus ceol na hoiceh;
Fag uait an olagon, nil ga ar bith leis...

Next: Anyone else but you!

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Suantraá­ Na Maighdine
words and music by
Seá¡n á“g á“ Tuama
as performed by Méav Ná­ Mhaolchatha
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqkuvFC8ZDo

Sleep soundly, my white lamb, sleep deeply, my sweet darling,
Lie quietly in the cradle, close your eyes, my faithful child...

Bright stars tonight are rocking in the sky, forest sounds and night music;
Leave aside your lamenting, there is no need for it anymore...