*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
*.*
After her friend, her girlfriend's rejection, Gracie sat in her car and stared blankly at the rear door of the store where Nancy worked. Truthfully, Gracie knew that Nancy had not rejected, rebuffed her. But there was a ware in her head all the same.
"That kiss she gave you. That was not a 'go away' kiss," Gracie finally whispered to herself.
Gracie called her mother. Her first instinct had been to call Dr. Leblanc, but she called Lisa instead.
Nancy had said that her family was Episcopalian; 'Whiskey-palian' she had called it. Lisa agreed to meet Gracie at Babbage's Department Store for a little Christmas shopping.
"Okay, Sweetheart, what are we getting? And for who?" Lisa asked as she got out of her Range Rover. "Because I know you; you already did all your shopping on-line."
"My uh, my girlfriend," Gracie admitted.
"Oh? Do I know this girl?" Lisa asked, showing no surprise or shock, showing no rejection or judgement.
"I uh, no, I mean, I went to school with her and..." Gracie said as they bustled to get into the store and out of the biting wind.
"The one who lost her house?" Lisa asked as they made it into the store, stepping into the slightly organized chaos of Christmas shoppers.
"Yeah!" Gracie said, surprised at her mother's intuition.
"Sweetheart, I do listen when you talk," Lisa smiled. "And I did notice how you blushed when you talked about, about, damn it, Mandy?"
"Nancy," Gracie admitted.
"Okay, so what are we getting Nancy?" Lisa asked.
"A cross. She lost hers," Gracie said.
"Nice. Gold? Silver?" Lisa asked, steering them toward the jewelry counter.
"Silver. One she lost was silver," Gracie said. "And since she's Episcopalian, it's got to be a cross, not a crucifix."
"Epis... Oh no! Gracie! We're Catholic," Lisa teased. "You know we're not supposed play with those Episcopalians. They're not praying right."
"Mother," Gracie giggled.
"Thank you," Gracie whispered as they looked at the displays, waiting for the harried salesgirl to finish with her current customer.
"For..." Lisa asked.
"For, uh, for not getting all weird when I..." Gracie whispered.
"Gracie, you are my daughter, my beautiful, smart, wonderful daughter," Lisa said warmly. "I love you. Plain and simple. I love you."
Gracie bought a silver cross with a sapphire in the center, along with a twenty inch box chain. She took the box and the receipt to the second floor, to have the package gift-wrapped. Along the way, she saw a five pound box of chocolate in the shape of Santa Claus and bought that as well.
The Santa Claus on duty smiled at the mother and daughter, so Lisa steered them toward the rotund man. She shrugged her coat off, straightened her outfit, then draped herself on the man's lap.
"And have you been a good girl this year?" the store Santa asked Lisa.
"You tell me," Lisa smiled cheekily. "None of the men or women I fucked this year were married. That being good?"
"That's not just being good, but good at it," the man laughed. "And lady? Think you going shock me? Believe me, I've heard it all."
Then Lisa made Gracie shrug out of her coat and go sit on Santa's lap. Gracie smiled as the man grinned.
"And have you been a good girl this year?" the man asked.
"Yes I have," Gracie said truthfully.
"Okay, we want six of each," Lisa told the girl operating the camera.
"Six?" Gracie asked as she struggled back into her coat.
"Grandma, your uncle Antny, your Aunts Barbara and Cindy, me, and your girlfriend, right?" Lisa said.
"But not..." Gracie hastened to demand.
"Your Uncle Jimmy does not get one," Lisa said tightly.
Gracie hugged her mother tightly before they left the store. At her car, Gracie again hugged her mother, then hurried to get into her car.
Mrs. Hebert stared suspiciously at the blonde girl, but opened the door. She pointed at the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and watched as Gracie took the two packages and one envelope out of a Babbage's bag.
"Think that's going fool anyone?" Mrs. Hebert almost asked the girl. "Honey, we've all bought couple them bags and stuffed our Wal-Mart shit in them."
"Thank you," Gracie whispered and left the house.
"Uh huh," was Mrs. Hebert's response.
That night, Nancy almost called Gracie when it was time to clock out. Nancy called the home phone; neither her father nor mother saw any need for a cell phone when their land line still worked just fine. But they did make sure their three children had cell phones, in case of emergencies.
Nancy called the home phone, her father answered, then just hung up on her. Twenty three minutes later, Nancy's mother was sitting out front. Out front, rather than drive around to the rear of the store so Nancy could minimize her time in the cruel wind blowing in from the Atchafalaya.
"That little bitch, shit don't stink come by," Mrs. Hebert greeted Nancy.
"Going have narrow it down a bit, Mother," Nancy said tightly.
"One you been running around with all week," Mrs. Hebert snapped.
"Gracie?" Nancy asked.
"Uh huh, put couple presents under the tree," her mother agreed. "And get this, get this, had them in a Babbage's bag. Almost told her ain't no one fooled by that shit."
Nancy wanted to tell her mother that Gracie did not know about that trick. If the bag was a Babbage's bag, then the gifts came from the exclusive store.
"God, it was so hot in there today," Nancy said, changing the subject.
"Uh huh, remember that," Mrs. Hebert said, almost genially. "Sweat like a pig all four times was preggers."
"Four?" Nancy asked. "I, you were, four?"
"God, Nancy, don't tell me you don't remember Brad," Mrs. Hebert said, a catch in her voice.
"Brad?" Nancy asked.
"I mean, yeah, you wasn't quite two when he got sick, but really?" the woman said.
"Brad? I had another brother?" Nancy asked.
"Was three when you come along. Boy, he loved being a big brother, wanted hold you minute we brung you home," Mrs. Hebert said.
Nancy searched her memory, but finally had to shake her head no. She did not remember having an older brother. She vaguely remembered staying with her Nana and Paw-Paw and then having a baby brother the next day. Three years later, she was so relieved when she had a baby sister, another girl to play with.
At her parents' house, Nancy looked at the two packages and one envelope stacked underneath the tree. She did wonder how hard Gracie had tried to align the packages precisely, the smaller box almost dead center on top of the larger box, the envelope safely tucked between the two boxes.
"Who's Gracie?" Michael asked, nodding toward the packages.
"My best friend," Nancy said tersely.
"Your, aw, what about that Megan, huh?" Michael asked.
Michael checked to see that their mother was not paying any attention. He then cupped his hands in front of his chest.
"Need be best friends with her; bring her around, huh?" Michael leered.
"Uh, yeah, like she'd be so interested in you, can't even get out of the eleventh grade," Nancy sneered.
"Hey!" Michael snapped, angered that Nancy would bring up his being held back to repeat the eleventh grade. "Least I'm not a stupid slut gets knocked up by some loser, huh?"
"Michael, that's enough," their father growled.
Seeing that dinner was at least twenty minutes from being finished, Nancy decided to take a shower. Her first act was to strip and send Gracie the daily snapshot of her belly.
"Miss you," Nancy sent.
"Miss you too," Gracie responded.
"Getting ready take a shower. What are you doing?" Nancy sent.
"Just finished eating," Gracie replied.
"I'll call you later, to tell you good night," Nancy promised, then hurried to take a quick shower, with hot water.
At her home, Gracie finished her can of St. Elizabeth Rice Beer, then checked the doors and windows. Satisfied, Gracie closed and locked her bedroom door, checked the windows, overlapped the curtains, then turned off the light. She turned on her bedside lamp and got down on the floor. She reached around and managed to dig the foam pillow from underneath the bed.
Gracie did curse slightly; she always put the pillow too far underneath the bed and had to lay almost flat on her belly to reach it. It would not have occurred to her to just go to the other side of the bed; this was the side it had to be retrieved from. And it would not have occurred to Gracie to not push it so far. The pillow had to be out of sight from the casual observer.
Gracie placed the pillow onto the bed, then went into her bathroom. She wiggled out of clothing, putting each item into the hamper. Making sure the lid of the hamper was securely shut, Gracie opened her linen closet and fetched the enema bag.
"Ugh, God, hate this part," Gracie actually spoke out loud as she jammed the nozzle into her rectum.
"Ugh! Ooh," Gracie grunted as she felt the warm, soapy water filling her.
She grimaced, holding the water, then finally released. She then repeated the process.