I've been told that when my mother was in labor with me, my father made the mistake of getting his head down close to her. When he did so, she put him in a headlock and rasped, "If you ever touch me again, I'll fucking kill you."
Twelve hours later, I was born. Surprisingly enough, my little brother, Michael, followed two years later.
My name is Rebecca Lee Garrett. I was born on February 29
th
, 2012. As a result, I have had all of four actual birthdays since then. On all non leap years, my family celebrates my birthday either on February 28
th
(odd years) or March 1
st
(even years).
My father is the Reverend Jason Garrett, pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and currently the Bishop of the DC Metro Synod (as in Washington, DC). My mother is Dr. Erin Benning Garrett, and from 2021 until 2029, she was the Secretary of Education under President Tara Martinson.
My family lives in Georgetown, in Washington, DC. So does my Uncle Austin's family, and my Aunt Emily's family. There is an explanation as to how the entire Garrett clan came to live in Georgetown.
We all used to be from the Los Angeles area, in California. I was born at Henry Mayo Hospital in Valencia, California. I wasn't supposed to be born there, but my mom went into labor when she and my dad were up visiting a friend of theirs at El Camino Pines, a Lutheran camp about fifty miles north of Los Angeles. In 2021, when I was almost nine, my mom was appointed as Secretary of Education, and we moved to DC. My dad found a Lutheran parish looking for a pastor, and then in 2027, was elected bishop of the synod.
My Uncle Austin and his wife, Kat, were from Pasadena. I had heard that once upon a time my Aunt Kat did a little bit of amateur porn, but I didn't believe it. Unfortunately, when I was twelve, a classmate of mine showed me the November 2009 Hustler in which she could be plainly seen screwing some guy's brains out.
Anyway, Uncle Austin is in the Air Force. In 2024, he was promoted to colonel and assigned to the Air Force Intelligence office at the Pentagon. The house right next door to my parents' house was for sale, so Austin and Kat bought that house and moved in. Their son, Reginald (he goes by Reggie), is my age - he was born a month after I was.
My Aunt Emily (Dad's baby sister) and her husband, Marty Daly, lived in Northridge, but they moved to DC in 2026. If Uncle Marty's name sounds familiar, it's because from 2010 till 2024, he was the starting quarterback for the Los Angeles Marauders of the National Football League. Before that, he was the starting quarterback for four years at the University of Southern California. He retired in 2024 when his doctor told him that if he suffered one more concussion, it would probably cause severe brain damage.
In May of 2026, Uncle Marty was offered the job of head coach of the Washington Redskins. Well, he and Aunt Emily and their daughter, Marianne, packed up and moved to Georgetown, where they bought the house across the street from Uncle Austin. Marianne was born in March of 2014, two years after me.
In January of 2029, President Martinson's term ended. However, she and her husband, Jacob, and their sons Russell (two months older than me) and Mark (Marianne's age), liked Washington so much that they decided to stay. In fact, they ended up buying the house right across the street from my parents', which was rather convenient, since she was an old college friend of both of my parents.
Now I had friends from school, and from church. However, my real "crew", as I liked to call it, was my cousins and the President's sons. Reggie and Russell were best friends, and I was very close to both of them. Mark and Michael were best friends as well, and Marianne was always around them. As it was, the three of us older kids were always hanging out with the three younger kids because our parents wanted us to keep an eye on them.
That had its ups and its downs. It was always fun hanging out with so many people, but when Reggie, Russ, and I turned 17, we couldn't go to R-rated movies as long as they were hanging out with us, which they usually were.
They group of us were so close that nobody was really that surprised when, in the fall of 2029, Mark asked Marianne to go to homecoming with him. After that, they started dating. It was very cute, but kind of made Mike feel like a third wheel sometimes. As such, I made it a point for us to hang out as a group more, so that Mike would feel more included.
I had had a thing for Russ all through high school, but as the son of the President, and then the son of the former President, he pretty much had the pick of the litter. He played free safety and wide receiver for our high school's football team, and throughout most of high school had a cheerleader on his arm.
I probably could've been a cheerleader. I've got the looks - a lot of people at my church tell me how much I look like my Aunt Kat, which is strange, since I have no blood relation to her at all. I got my dad's height - I'm 5'10" - and my mom's looks - kind of. I got her face, her complexion, and her chest - a fantastic 36D. However, I somehow ended up with red hair and bright green eyes, and the only explanation I can find is three generations back - my great grandmother was an immigrant from Ireland, and she had red hair and green eyes as well.
However, I was told that I was too tall to be a cheerleader. My parents, though, are both very talented musically, and I inherited that. I'm a classically trained pianist (got that from Dad), and I can sing the theme from
The Phantom of the Opera
without missing a note (got that from Mom). Fall semester of my senior year of high school, I was offered a full ride scholarship to Julliard. I accepted it right away, of course.
On March 1
st
, 2030, we celebrated my eighteenth birthday. The Martinsons hosted it, which made me quite happy - they had an indoor pool, which meant that I would get to put as much as possible on display for Russ to see. After all, he had been single for over a month now!
My family was there, as were Uncle Austin's family and Aunt Emily's family. My dad, Uncle Austin, Uncle Marty, and Jacob Martinson all got quickly blitzed on beer, while the women got a little more slowly smashed on wine.
"Well," I commented as the six of us teenagers sat in the Martinsons' family room, "this is a REAL fun birthday party. The adults are all smashed. What the heck are we supposed to do?"
"I'm going swimming," said Marianne. "Screw them. Who's with me?"
Mark and Mike both hopped up and followed her out. Then I saw a look pass between Reggie and Russ, and Reggie got up and left as well. GULP. There I was, wearing nothing but a bikini, alone in the room with Russ Martinson.
We sat in silence for a moment. Then he spoke.
"Becca," he said.
Becca? He had never called me that before. It was always Rebecca or R.L. Only my closest girlfriends called me Becca.
"Becca," he said again, "there's something I really need to tell you."