A Christmas Visit

This story is part of the WINTER HOLIDAY 2023 Contest. Please vote early and often.

While this is a stand-alone story, familiarity with the 'Virginiaverse' will help put the story in greater context. This event occurred during the events described in "Tomorrow is Promised Pt. 01." Virginia swears this really happened. I have no reason to believe otherwise.

© 2023 Candy_Kane54

***

... I was amazed at how pleasant the weather was, being so close to Christmas. Bonnie and I, along with Matthew and Mark, were spending the day at the Manhattan Beach pier, as was our custom on Saturday mornings when I wasn't away on business. With Christmas only four days away, we'd already decorated the tree at my place. Bonnie, Matthew, and Mark would be moving in with me on Christmas Eve, so I was looking for a Christmas tree bulb to celebrate our first Christmas together.

This was a big move for all of us, so while we were all excited about it, especially Matthew and Mark, Bonnie and I were also nervous about it because of all of the implications the move involved. I had to be careful because of the military's proscription against homosexuality. However, I was willing to take that chance because I couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life without Bonnie in it. As I looked over at her, my heart clenched with my love for her. I then looked over to Matthew and Mark, and my love for them made my breath catch. They were such wonderful boys, and my life was all the richer for having them in it.

Several booths on the pier displayed Christmas decorations, many of which were handmade. I still found it a little incongruous with the weather -- 72 degrees and sunny. Having grown up where we had cold weather and even snow for Christmas, it was something I wasn't used to. Even for the four years I spent in Albuquerque, it was chilly for Christmas, with frost most mornings. After browsing several booths, we came across one featuring custom-made Christmas tree bulbs.

Bonnie and I browsed through the bulbs, pointing out the ones that caught our eyes to each other. I loved the detail that had been put into making them, and the vendor offered to customize any bulb we chose with our names on the spot. Bonnie looked at me and nodded when I selected one out and told the vendor what names I wanted on it. It took only a minute for the vendor to customize the bulb, get our approval, and wrap it up for us. I didn't want to wait to get back home and put it on the tree, but we had a full day ahead of us planned out, and I didn't want to disappoint the boys ...

***

December 24, 1992

I had decided to go to Midnight Mass at St. Anthony. It would be the first time I had attended Midnight Mass since my mother died in 1974. With everything that had happened this year, I had started attending Mass again, still not totally reconciled with Him, but glad that He had started talking to me again. I hoped Matthew and Mark would start attending Mass with me, but I wasn't going to push them into it. I wanted them to do it on their own initiative, so whenever they asked me about my Catholic faith, I'd take the time to sit down and talk to them about the rituals and prayers used in the Mass. They hadn't been regular churchgoers for some time, but after their mother's death, I think they were interested, but I wasn't going to push them.

I told everyone about my plans so they wouldn't be alarmed when I came into the house in the early morning hours. As was our tradition for Christmas Eve, we all sat down and watched "It's a Wonderful Life," sitting together on the couch, exchanging hugs from time to time. Once the movie was over, I sent Matthew and Mark off to bed. Grace and I hugged and gently wept for a moment, both of us missing Bonnie terribly before she went off to bed. I then put out the presents I had for everyone.

I only had one gift for Matthew this Christmas, having promised him a car once he got his driver's license. Having become disillusioned with how the Ford Mustang brand had deteriorated over the years, I broke a twenty-plus-year tradition. I bought myself a red 1993 Mazda Miata since I would be doing a lot of commuting after the New Year, starting a part-time job while getting my Master's degree in Computer Science from UC-Irvine. I decided to give my 1990 Mustang convertible to Matthew since he had learned to drive with it, so he would be comfortable driving it by himself.

I had several gifts for Mark, mainly clothes and athletic gear. I also got him a Nintendo Game Boy since the original Nintendo Entertainment System I bought for Matthew and Mark in 1985 had finally given up the ghost. They hadn't been playing it a lot lately since they were both busy with their sports, having become proficient soccer players. They were starters for their school teams: Mark for El Segundo Middle School and Matthew for El Segundo High School.

I had several gifts for Grace and Kathy, too, and as I put them under the tree, I raised a prayer to Him for putting Kathy into Grace's life. As much as Kathy always tells me how strong Grace was, I knew that Grace wouldn't have survived this past year if she hadn't had Kathy to lean on.

While placing the presents under the tree, my eyes settled on the Christmas bulb Bonnie and I had bought for our first Christmas together. I teared up as I briefly touched the red and green bulb with my fingertips, reading the written white inscription: "Bonnie and Virginia -- Our first Christmas -- 1985." I briefly indulged in some tears, missing Bonnie so much. I remembered the promise I had made to her to find someone to love so I wouldn't be alone for the rest of my life. I had tried to argue that I'd have Matthew and Mark to love so I wouldn't be alone, but Bonnie had insisted. "Oh, my love, how will I ever find someone to take your place?" I murmured before wiping away the tears and taking several deep breaths to settle myself down.

I quickly placed the remaining presents before heading into my bedroom to dress for church. As I checked myself in the mirror, I could see how miserable I looked. As I finished my toilet, I practiced a smile or two, completing my ensemble with the beautiful spun-wire gold bracelet Bonnie had gotten me for our first Christmas. By the time I was finished and ready to go, I felt a little better.

There was a mini traffic jam around St. Anthony's when I got there due to the limited parking, so I ended up parking on the street and walking two blocks up to the church. As I entered the vestibule, I stopped to light a candle for Bonnie, pausing to throw up a prayer to Him to look over her and make sure she wasn't alone and sad. As I stood there staring at the flame, watching it flicker and move from the air currents swirling around, I felt the comfort of His presence fall over me. I knew that He was reassuring me He had it under control.

I then entered the nave and managed to find a seat despite the large number of parishioners attending the service. I knelt and crossed myself to spend a moment with Him. As I prayed, I thanked him for putting Bonnie in my life and for the seven wonderful years I had with her. I asked Him to give me the wisdom and strength to guide Matthew and Mark on their journey to adulthood and to look over them and help them deal with the loss of their mother. I also asked Him to look over Grace and Kathy and help Grace deal with the loss of her daughter. By the time I was through and sat back in the pew, I felt better and was looking forward to the Mass.

I looked forward to the homily, wondering what tack it would take this time. Once the Mass started, it was comforting to go through the rituals. After a reading from the Gospel of Matthew, Father Michael began the homily. He told us it was all about the birth of Christ and the importance of why he came to us as a helpless Babe. Father Michael began by telling us about remembering how, as a little child, his first memories of Christmas were with his mother and father around the Christmas tree. As he related that, I flashed back to my childhood memories of my father holding me up to put the star on the top of the tree. For a moment, I teared up, thinking about how both of my parents were dead and I'd never experience that again. Then I thought about Matthew and Mark and how they would never have their mother with them for Christmas again.

Father Michael paused, scanning the audience, before explaining why God came to us as a helpless Child instead of a mighty King. He said, "Let me tell you a story that can help explain what I mean."

"The person I'm going to talk about was not a bad or evil man," Father Michael began. "In fact, he was a kind, decent, and mostly good man. He was generous to his family and upright in his dealings with everyone else. He was just the opposite of another character from a different Christmas story you may be familiar with, Ebenezer Scrooge."

This comment got a smattering of titters from the congregation as Father Michael momentarily smiled.

After a beat, Father Michael continued, "Now, this man had been raised in the Church, but as an adult, he had questions about his faith that he couldn't find satisfactory answers to, especially about the birth of Christ. He just couldn't believe how God would want to come to us as a helpless little child. The fact that the Church made such a big deal about it made it even harder. It didn't make sense to him, and he was too honest to pretend otherwise.

"He wasn't against Christmas because he had decorated his home for the season, just like all his neighbors. He even put up a tree and decorated it. The few presents under the tree were for his relatives and friends to give to them when he visited them on Christmas day.

"It was Christmas Eve, and all his friends and relatives were into the season. Everyone he met asked if he was going to attend Midnight Mass. Because he wanted to be true to himself, he decided not to go. He told his friends and relatives I'm genuinely sorry, but I'm not going with you to Midnight Mass. He explained how he'd feel like a hypocrite and would much rather stay home. And so he stayed home while everyone else planned to attend Midnight Mass.

"His best friend had also stopped by to ask if he was going to attend Midnight Mass, and he told his friend what he had told everyone else. Not to be deterred, his friend said he'd stop by after the Mass to exchange presents. Despite his protestations, the man's friend insisted, so he agreed to wait up for him.

"As the day turned to night, snow began to fall. He went from window to window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier before returning to his fireside chair to read his book while waiting up for his friend. He thought about everyone who would be trying to get to church through the falling snow and was glad that he had decided to stay at home instead of out there fighting the weather. After some time, while deep into the book he was reading, he was startled by a loud thud that seemed to come from the living room. He listened for a repeat and returned to his book after hearing nothing else. Just as he did, another thud came from the living room, and this time, it was rapidly followed by several more thuds.

"At first, he thought it could be the neighborhood children out playing in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other, and the occasional wild throw would end up against his living room window. But when he went to the front door to investigate, he did not see anyone up or down the street. He looked over toward his window and found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow below it, recovering from their encounters with the window. He figured they'd been startled from their long night's slumber and were caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large, well-lit window.

"Being the kind-hearted man he was, he couldn't let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he decided to try to help them. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what he could do to get them out of the wind and snow. He considered and discarded several notions until remembering the old barn where he stored all his groundskeeping and gardening equipment. It would provide shelter from the wind and snow if he could somehow direct the birds to it.

"He quickly donned his winter gear: a coat, gloves, and boots, and tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, hoping the birds would see the light and head into the barn. He waited, but the birds did not come in. He then thought about how he could get the birds into the barn and figured food would entice them in. So he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, and sprinkled them on the snow, making a trail to the well-lit wide open doorway of the barn.

"But to his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs and remained huddling helplessly in the deepening snow. He decided to try more direct methods and tried catching them. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them while waving his arms, all in vain. Instead, they scattered in every direction or flew into the window with a thud again ... everywhere except into the warm, lighted barn.

"That's when he realized they feared him and didn't understand what he wanted from them. To them, he thought, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me ... that I am not trying to hurt them but to help them. But how could he help them? Any move he made tended to frighten or confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him.

"He tried many times to get the birds to go into the barn. Despite the dark and the cold wind and snow, he was determined to find some way to help the birds. After many failed tries, a thought struck him. If only I could be a bird, he thought, and join them and speak their language. Then, I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to safety and warmth ... to the safe, warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see, hear, and understand me and not be afraid.

"Just as he finished that thought, the distant church bells began ringing. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. He stood there listening to the bells, recognizing the song as 'Adeste Fidelis' or, more commonly, 'Oh, Come All Ye Faithful.' As the bells pealed out the glad tidings of Christmas, he realized the enormity of his revelation and sank to his knees in the snow and prayed."

Father Michael paused again, and I took a moment to react to the emotions I felt from that simple story going through my head. As I looked around, I saw the same emotions on the other people's faces that I was experiencing myself.

Father Michael finished, "That's why we celebrate the birth of Christ. God gave us his only begotten Son as an innocent Babe, not a conquering King, so He could show us the way without frightening us."

With that, the homily ended, and the Mass continued with the Profession of Faith. Like many attendees, I didn't go up to participate when it came time for the Eucharist. As long as the Church proscribed homosexuality, I couldn't join in the most essential part of the Mass. Instead, I just prayed, feeling comforted by His presence, a presence that felt like a smile from someone who loves you more than life itself. I knew that He didn't mind that I was gay, that Love was what He was all about. But, until the Church came to that realization, I would remain on the outside looking in.

Eventually, Mass ended with the final blessing and dismissal, and I started working my way out and back to my car. Despite the lateness of the hour, many parishioners were standing around, wishing each other a Merry Christmas. It took a minute or two to get out of the traffic snarl before I drove home through the nearly empty streets. I quietly entered, quickly silencing the alarm. I held my breath, hoping I hadn't woken anyone. When it became apparent I hadn't disturbed anyone, I let out my breath. I reset the alarm before heading into my bedroom.

After stripping down to my panties and performing a quick toilet, I crawled into my lonely bed after donning my sleeping tee. I thought about Bonnie and the promise I had made to her to find someone to love. I knew why she had made me promise her that. She knew I wouldn't break any promise I made to her. Of course, I had her promise to wait for me, so I knew I'd be with her again one day. With that comforting thought, I quickly fell asleep ...

***

... It had been a long and arduous hike, taking all morning to get up to the top, but it was worth it. Standing on top of Half Dome, looking out over the sheer drop, I had a great view of the hills and valleys around me. I saw a beautiful green valley spread out below me with a narrow river running through it. The weather cooperated with us, with the bright sun high above. I could feel the heat of it on my face as I stood there, amazed at the beauty all around me.

I looked over at Bonnie, drinking in her beauty. My heart clenched with the love I felt for her. She looked back at me; her smile was infectious, making me smile in return, as it always did. I reached out and took her hand in mine, marveling at how her hand felt so right in mine. "I love you," I said as I squeezed her hand.

"I love you more," Bonnie said, smiling and squeezing my hand in response.

My whole body vibrated, and I realized that as much as I loved Bonnie, and I loved her with my whole heart, I knew she spoke the truth. I would never understand how I got so lucky to be the recipient of her love, but I was never going to question it. However, I smiled and responded, "Not possible," since that had become our ritual. At that moment, I was at peace with the world, and I couldn't imagine a day that could be more perfect than this ...

***

... I drowsily became aware of the warm body spooned up against me as I woke. My arm was draped over her ribs, and her tee-covered breast was nestled securely in my hand. Without any prompting, my hand tightened, gently massaging her breast, her nipple hardening in response and scoring my palm through the material.

"That was a perfect day, wasn't it," Bonnie murmured as she wriggled into me, her ass pressing into my pussy and her back pressing into my breasts.

My nipples ached as they hardened, and my pussy started burning as I tightened my arm around her ribs. "The best," I agreed before I leaned in and gently nuzzled her neck.

"I really liked the Homily," Bonnie husked, her body responding to my ministrations. "It reminded me of a story Paul Harvey told on one of his Christmas programs."

For some reason, her statement made me feel uneasy, as though something wasn't quite right. Before I could think further about it, Bonnie started purring as her hand came up to cover my hand, encouraging me to continue massaging her breast. That distraction made me lose my train of thought as I tightened my grip on her breast, my fingers digging into her flesh, kneading it. This drew a low moan from Bonnie, the sound resonating throughout my body, urging me to continue.