“So when are you going to come out of the closet?” she suddenly asks, and I find myself chocking on both water and air as I stand there, coughing a little surprised by the question. “What? Isn’t that what you all say nowadays?” she asks seriously, peering over me as we stand there. My eyes look forward to hers, her small stance looking up at me with a sly smile, while patting my back to ease the sudden uncomfortable pain after coughing so much.

“Oh, don’t give me that innocent look child! I know love when I see it,” Grandma says while getting some paper towels and handing them to me. Carefully I dab the excess water away from my face and dress, feeling the heat in my cheeks suddenly rise. Had we been that obvious? Was she disgusted by us or did she find us weird?

“It is okay, I’m not against you or anything,” the elderly woman answers almost as if she read my mind and smiles through her red lips. For some reason she reminds me of Tiffany now, albeit older and more mature. Grandma simply pats my back before suddenly stepping forward to clean up some spilt mess on the counter. “I just want to make sure my baby Tiffany is alright,” she says while wiping the counter.

So this is why she wanted to talk to me alone.

“Is that why you wanted to talk to me?” I basically ask the same as I thought, albeit just for confirmation. Grandma smiles faintly, before turning over to do something else. She hums a bright tune, but doesn’t say anything more. I find myself going back to my previous task, thoughts running all over my head. She is not against us, but how did she know? How did she find out? Were we that obvious? Silently I stand there, wondering what to make out of this situation.

“You know, when I was younger I felt like that too,” Grandma suddenly shares after a while. Curiously I look up towards her, who is standing a about an arm’s length away from me. Her eyes are casted out towards the window, a slight smile on her face as she speaks.  “Yeah, those were the days,” she sighs before looking down a little towards something on her window stand. My gaze goes towards where she’s looking, until I see a photograph of a small house by the shore of a beach, probably taken many years ago according to the quality. I don’t see anyone there at all, nothing except for a small, white house surrounded by green grass at one side, and sand on the other. Then I see small parts of the blue waves by the shore, almost inviting me in towards the beautiful scenery. The house might be simple, but it’s absolutely beautiful and quaint… I would’ve loved to visit something like that.

“We were both so young at the time,” she says after a while, but not towards me in particular. Her mind seems to be somewhere else as the orange glow reflects upon the semi black and white picture. “He was a little older than me though.”

Carefully I study the small windows of the beach house, the clear glass and the lone tree by the side. My thoughts gone as her voice keeps on echoing throughout the room. Grandma has that kind of distant, yet reminiscing voice as she speaks towards me, eyes focused solely on the photograph of the said house. I turn to look towards at her again, wondering what more she was going to say.

I started to wonder if it was someone she was quite close to, a lover or so, but before I could even ask she continued speaking again, removing a strand of fallen hair from her face, the dim light casting a certain glow on her slightly elder, yet surprisingly younger than expected face.

“But my parents were against it, of course,” she voices out after a while, tilting her head to the side as we stand there, the coffee machine making small noises along with the refrigerator, the clock ticking by the seconds and minutes. “He wasn’t exactly poor, but he was still in the working class. My mother always said I’d marry a rich, handsome and successful man in the future. Apparently she didn’t have him in mind, and did everything to prevent it,” Grandma says then. I stand there, listening intently to what she’s saying, finding myself lost in the story as she still keeps on looking at that photograph.

I stand there a little heartbroken, wondering how she could cope with something as tough as that. Being forced away from the one you love because your parents wouldn’t accept it? I couldn’t imagine that happening to me, and I wouldn’t want that either. And that’s exactly what I don’t want to happen to Tiffany and me.

“You know, we found this house once by accident. We went on a very, very long walk around the island I used to live in. It had been abandoned for many years, but I wanted to live there one day. A year after we moved he sent me a picture of this…” Grandma goes on, her eyes flickering like something within her came alive, and as my eyes studied her profile, I suddenly saw a younger side of her.

Almost as if she was someone from the past.

“He rebuilt it, but said this house was for me, and if I’d ever come back he’d be there. So I went there again after some time,” she says, her voice trailing off again until there is nothing but the faint buzz of the freezer heard in the room, along with the ticking of the clock again. I stand there and look at her curiously, wondering if it was right to say something.

“Was he there… when you came back?” I break the silence with my question, the curiosity bubbling up within me, wondering if it was the man in the living room she was speaking of. The spark in Grandma Hwang eyes fades a little as she says her next words, mindlessly fiddling with the hem of her exclusive cardigan. “No,” she states simply, inhaling before letting her gaze simply wander towards the window, her reflection seemingly in deep thought. “He left a letter there for me, but I didn’t read it. I didn’t want to know, but he left the keys, and I just knew that the house was for me to keep… But I couldn’t live there, so instead I opted to keep it as a vacation house.”

Then she lets out a small sigh, but the faint smile on her face lingers before she finally turns around to look at me. And then I notice the young, lively spark about her dimmed away until she was simply Grandma again, the old woman in the present. “Take care of Tiffany, and treat her right, okay? That’s really all that I can ask for, especially during times like these,” Grandma says before a soft hand lands in my shoulder, her words sincere as they enter my ears. “You seem to hide it, but I can still see it in your eyes. Don’t pretend anymore, okay? They’ll understand.”

In a small state of surprise I don’t know what to say after hearing her little story and what she’s saying now. And on top of that I don’t know how I’m supposed to react after she discovered the real truth between us, but she accepts it and most likely, the rest of Tiffany’s family will too.

After being in the kitchen for a while we finally get back to our business and come back again towards the living room. There’s a bunch of cookies and other typical pastries on a tray in my hand as I carefully place it on the coffee table, after Grandma Hwang’s instructions of course.

When I finally sit down, I naturally take the vacant space next to Tiffany on the small loveseat, casted in a dull shade of dusty pink. I smile a little by the choice as I look over at her, who laughs silently before looking away again. Carefully I study the way her now darker shade of brown hair falls freely, the make up on her face hiding imperfections that actually are pretty perfect for me, and the happy glean in her eyes again as she speaks.

She seems happy again, she seems more alive than usual.

I must’ve only gazed a couple of seconds, but when I tore my gaze away and met the knowing smile of Grandma from the other side of the table, I gently looked down, feeling the heat rush upon my cheeks. Thank God for foundation.

The chatter goes on like usual, and I still don’t say too much but they don’t seem to mind. Tiffany’s parents know about my rather introvert personality, and they don’t pry too much unless I want to talk about something that I find interesting.

When the adults seem to talk more about some stuffy job situation neither Tiffany nor I find interesting, I suddenly hear a low, yet curiously filled voice speaking hushed next to me, the scent of sweet perfume lingering. “She didn’t torture you in there, did she?” Tiffany asks with slightly alarmed eyes, and I try not to laugh by her worried expression. I simply shake my head before leaning a bit closer, adjusting the falling ruffles of my dress before looking over at her.

“But what did you talk about?” she asks, now more curious than concerned. I think back to the conversation that happened just minutes ago, wondering if I should tell her or not. It’s not really in my place to tell her what Grandma said about her past I suppose, and perhaps she already knew about that story, but as I look at her, I only give her a soft smile before taking my hand closer towards hers, yet not touching it just yet.

“She told me that she knew about us,” I start simply, my voice a little shushed but it isn’t really necessary; the adults seem to be way too focused on their conversation to care. Tiffany’s look of anxiousness arrives again, not really knowing what to expect by that. For some reason I really want to just lean in and kiss that expression away, but I contain myself by bringing my hand a little closer.

“Don’t worry, she accepts us, and she believes your parents and grandfather will too,” I tell her reassuringly, looking up at her with a probably idiotic smile. Tiffany’s concerned eyes seem to change into a relaxed state, slowly smiling back. “She really thinks so?” her voice comes out a little louder, but not enough to wake attention. I nod in reply by that, and as the yellow lights from the fireplace reflect on Tiffany’s pale face, I really notice how happy she is, how content she seems. And slowly I place my hand upon hers, the warmth underneath my palm as I gently intertwine our fingers together.

I’m not sure how much time has passed, but as we talk a little more I notice that neither of us lets go of our hands. And I don’t know if they seem to notice, or maybe they don’t care, but they don’t comment upon it. They simply start talking to us indifferently, with that same warm, nice tone towards us. And by that I find myself smiling a bit more, managing to say a bit more, and as I carefully glance back at Tiffany from time to time, I see the somewhat proud smile on her face.

“Well, this youngster is getting pretty tired,” Grandpa says a while later, the clock on the wall striking eleven pm. With a small grunt he gets up from his recliner chair, dusting off his pants before looking towards his wife, a small smile on his face. “What about you dear?” he asks, and Grandma simply smiles before getting up.

“Yes, I think we should be getting some sleep as well. After all, we’re probably going to have to wake up early tomorrow anyway,” Grandma chuckles a little as she stands next to her husband, taking her arm around his as they stand there together and I find myself smiling by the sight. Even though he may not have been her first love, not the one who built the house for her, I saw the love between them still. And she must’ve learned to find love in somebody else, even given the circumstances. And to have been together so long, well, it’s pretty unbelievable to me, but it’s still beautiful.

A few seconds later I hear Tiffany’s parents get up as well, seemingly also ready to take the night. “Girls, if you’re going to stay up later, you’ll have to stay quiet so you won’t wake grandma and grandpa, okay?” Tiffany’s mother says, but before we even get to reply Grandma Hwang cuts to the chase.

“Oh, don’t worry about us. Grandpa over here snores so loud that I’m used to a lot of sounds,” she says with a hearty laugh, and Grandpa laughs along as well before gently nudging his wife.  I smile a little again by the sight, amused by the pair.

We all share our good nights, but before they all disappear up the stairs I see Grandma turning her face around, sending me a small wink before finally leaving us behind. And then after a while it’s silent between us, doors shut as wood crackles in the fireplace.

“Are you tired?” I ask Tiffany as I turn to look at her, and she simply shakes her head before smiling. Then suddenly she spreads her arms out wide, a cute grin plastering her face. “But I’m cold, warm me up?” she asks with that eye smile of hers, and I find myself gently laughing but accepting the gesture by lying down on the loveseat with Tiffany next to me, snuggly cuddled up to me.

We lie there for a while, simply enjoying the company as the sparks from the fireplace moves around. I drape an arm around Tiffany’s waist, her head using my other hand as a sort of pillow, with her hair sprawled out all over the place. In theory it’s not the most comfortable position I’ve ever been in, but in a way I don’t care, because I like it as well.

Somewhere in time we get caught up in a conversation about our futures, talking about it in a state of mind where none of this was real, as if we could live a life were the eventual end of Tiffany’s life wasn’t hanging on a thread. It oddly turns out as a more comforting, easy going subject to talk about, even if it’s everything but. “I want to get married one day, and have lots of kids,” she says with her fingers locked between the fabrics of my dress, feeling her body snuggling closer to me as she adjusts the position of her head. I keep my gaze at the fire in front of us, absentmindedly playing with her hair as I listen to her speak. “And then live in a small house by the sea so I can hear waves crash by the shore every morning. I’d also like to see a light house one day, stand on top of one and just look out at the wide ocean.”

I can feel her smile, even though her face was mostly hidden for me in our tight embrace. “I always wanted something like that,” she says a little softer, her thin fingers still playing with my dress as I turn to look down at her face.  “Would you ever marry me?” her voice pierces through the silence again, the slight pressure on my chest disappearing as she straightens up her head. Then I hear a soft cough. “I mean, someday in the future of course.”

Her eyes are casted on me, watching me intently and probably awaiting a response of some sorts. I adjust my position so I’m leaning my head on my hand, the other arm still around Tiffany yet with a looser grip this time. My eyes study her face, from her partly anxious yet curious eyes all the way down to her pink lips that I’ve kissed so many times, and probably could do loads of more times as well.

“I would,” I reply simply, tearing my gaze from her lips and into the light orbs of her eyes that focus on me. Her hair is a little messy, her makeup by now a little worn out, yet she still looks gorgeous underneath the fiery light. I get distracted for a while, simply gazing at her before swallowing, remembering I am still talking. “I don’t really know how we’d get the kids though,” I say out of the blue, and with a light hit on my shoulder she sits up, her long hair falling above her shoulders as she looks at me with a slight pout. It soon disappears though as she turns her body around to face me, her hands on her lap.

“We could always adopt?” she suggest through a careful voice, head tilting a little to the side. Slowly I let out a smile, something that had been very easy lately with Tiffany; I sit back up so I’m facing her fully. “That’s always an option, too,” I agree as we sit there, the fire slowly dimming as the light around us dies down.  “But why do you want to live by the sea?” I ask out of curiosity, our hands slowly finding each other again as we sit on the sofa. Carefully she looks up at me again, her eyes watching me with a look of thoughts and silent conversations with herself. “I don’t know actually, I just always wanted to.”

I smile by that before laying my head back down, looking at her face, and by now I can see her drowsy eyes and slightly parted lips. With a small chuckle, I manage to get up again as she looks at me confused. “Let’s go to sleep, it’s getting late,” I say and before she can even respond, I get up from the sofa, and carefully I lift her off the sofa and into my arms, holding her bridal style. With a slightly embarrassed, yet happy laugh her cheeks turn a little pink as I simply laugh along with her. “I can walk by myself, you know?” she asks but I simply chuckle before heading towards the bedroom again with her light body in my arms. Carefully managing to open up the door, I step in and I’m about to place her down the bed, until a small whine escapes her lips.

“Can’t you carry me a little longer Jessie?” she asks and I simply look at her, into her eyes who are so kindly asking me, and I smile a little before changing my direction, and instead opt for walking around circles in the room. We stay relatively in silence, the only sound being my footsteps on the wooden floor and the wind outside, along with Tiffany’s soft breaths beneath me, her head leaning onto my upper body, eyes threatening to close. Adjusting her position a little with my arms, I look down at her before breaking the silence between us.

“If you’re tired, you can just sleep,” I say quietly just enough for her to hear it, but with tired eyes looking up at me, she smiles softly before adding a cute expression. “But what if I don’t want to?” she asks with a challenge, but instead of replying, I simply look out at the window, the moonlight shining through. And as I walk with Tiffany in my arms, slowly my lips part as I softly find myself singing a familiar tune.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas 
Just like the ones I used to know 
Where the treetops glisten, 
and children listen 
To hear sleigh bells in the snow

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas 
With every Christmas card I write 
May your days be merry and bright 
And may all your Christmases be white

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas 
With every Christmas card I write 
May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmases be white,”

At the last verse my eyes go down to see Tiffany’s face, and by her closed eyes and peaceful expression, she seems to have fallen asleep by now, her breaths even softer than before and more even. Like this she seems so vulnerable, fragile in my arms as I still continue on walking, the song ending after a while.

My feet go on for a couple of rounds more until I finally let Tiffany down on the bed, carefully changing her out of her red dress and into her infamous set of pink pajamas. Although it felt a little awkward, I remind myself not to look for too long, after all I’m simply changing her clothes.

And as I slowly drape the covers over her body, she starts mumbling in her sleep. It is pure gibberish for me at first, not much making sense, until the last sentence of hers that reminds in my head for a while as I simply stand there, not knowing what to do.

“Nothing’s forever Jessie,” she says almost as if she was awake, her face tense at first, until it ultimately softens up again after a while, along with her voice. “But I don’t care, because you’re the one I love.”