To celebrate, and as a thank you to all of you who have loved and cared not only for me but for my 'children,'
I give you this brief interlude. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
The sound of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony played softly as Erica brushed Maired's hair. Longish and red, it was perhaps her 'crowning glory,' as some might say. Her face, of course for those who knew her, wasn't what anyone would call beautiful, but more in the 'damn fine handsome woman' category. Erica, on the other hand, from everyone's account, was beautiful.
"You get prettier every day," Erica said as she paused long enough to nibble Maired's ear.
"Nonsense. I am who I am, my dear, merely through the rose colored lenses of your own eyes. I do so love the complement; it makes me feel real." Maired was always so much more insecure than her 'brother' ever was, the persona that melded into hers finally to become whole after years of separation of a sort.
"You've been real since the day you were born; that you had a different beginning makes no difference to me, and you know all of our friends and family don't see you as anything but whom you present...my adorable dear!" Erica leaned closer and kissed her on the cheek.
"I still feel awkward; like I'm just pretending." She frowned and looked in the mirror. Some of their friends said she bore a striking resemblance to Julianne Nicholson, the actress with the same hued but short red hair. Truth be told, Maired looked like her 'brother,' only softer; the benefit of learning how to use makeup to her advantage and a contribution from someone further back in her family tree that gave her a very fey look, as her mother had playfully teased her. But what had been somewhat embarrassing for Mark became a sort of blessing when Maired finally emerged.
"I think you're gorgeous, and at the end of the day, it's what I think that counts, my dear, SO THERE!" Erica went to nuzzle Maired's neck, but life has a way of inserting itself even in the most romantic of situations.
"Mommy?" A soft voice followed by knock at the door.
"Deedee, honey, Momma and I are having some huggy time, okay?"
"I can't sleep. Can I sleep with you?" The little girl knocked once again; a tentative rap on the door by their four-year old daughter.
"One second, baby." Erica turned shrugged once. Maired frowned, but Erica smiled and kissed her very slowly and tenderly.
"As always, my dear."
The Sixth Symphony (Pastoral)
Ludwig Van Beethoven
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