Yule Love Me on Christmas

By Riley Smith

This sweet and tender story of two women falling in love over the winter holidays is not your average Christmas romance.

Melody Bishop has just come out to her parents, and they have disinvited her to Christmas until she rejects her "unnatural urges" and agrees to marry a man. She's struggling to stay true to herself and navigate her relationship to her Christian faith in the face of her parents' disapproval and the prospect of a Christmas all alone.
When Melody's coworker crush, Aoife Winterson, invites her to spend the holiday break with the Winterson clan, Melody finds herself in the middle of a twelve-day all-out celebration... but not of Christmas. The Wintersons are Wiccan, and they observe Yule, the winter solstice. Melody has always been drawn to Aoife's self-assuredness and confidence, and Aoife's family is a wonder of warmth and generosity and affectionate teasing compared to Melody's severe upbringing. But to follow her heart, Melody will have to go against everything she has been raised to believe and find her way into a new version of her faith that has room for her true self, and Aoife's.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Shorts
• Release date: Dec 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781094415444

Riley Smith

N/A

Book preview

Chapter One: Aoife

Aoife couldn’t believe what she was hearing. A few minutes ago, she’d been enjoying the silence and peace of her empty classroom during her brief rest period. It was the only time of day she could decompress, or at least desperately catch up on grading.

But now, her peace was utterly shattered. Her principal stood in front of her, blocking her view of the evergreen branches, red berries, and gold and silver ribbons around her classroom. The kids had helped her decorate it one day as a reward for quietly finishing a quiz early that Aoife had thought would last all period.

Aoife would have decorated it regardless. There was a reason her name was Ms. Winterson… well, because that was her family name. But there was a reason her family’s name was Winterson. They were obsessed with the winter holiday. Although Aoife would never admit to her principal or to any of the kids what holiday in particular they celebrated.

She’d been so excited for winter break to start so she could cut out of Seattle and head for her family’s home in Granite Falls. Just the thought of the snowfall around her parents’ classic home nestled in the forest filled her with a deep sense of peace (or at least, a longing for peace). She was eager to help decorate. Her mom was the queen of winter décor. Helping her work was magic, literally.

But what could we need to stay past December fifteenth for? she asked the principal. That’s when the kids’ break starts.

Principal Waller, a large, balding man who was always acting tyrannical to make up for insecurity, said with a shrug, We need to complete these professional development sessions. Most of the teachers don’t make time during the year. It’ll be better if we do it together before everyone leaves for the break.

He was smiling paternalistically, as if to say, If only you teachers could handle yourselves, I wouldn’t have to do this. You silly things.

Aoife blinked, using the little moments of darkness to calm her temper. How about you make it voluntary? she suggested. People who won’t finish the courses on their own time during the year can take it now. But I’ll get them done. Plus, my family is waiting for me for the holiday.

He interrupted her explanation, saying, Evie, it’s only until December nineteenth. You’ll be home by the twentieth. Plenty of time for Christmas. He grinned.

It’s pronounced Ee-fa, Aoife said with a scowl. She didn’t mention that she didn’t give a damn about Christmas. Her big holiday was on the twenty-first. But at least she’d be just in time for the tree ritual. She decided to cut her losses and stop trying to convince the guy.

He squinted at her, like she was playing a prank. He said, I thought it was Evie.

As if he was going to convince her she was pronouncing her own name wrong. "It’s not Evie. It’s Ee-fa. That’s why there’s an f, she reiterated, then smiled. It’s okay. You’ll have plenty of time to learn it. While we’re all taking those professional development classes together."

Oh, I’m not taking the courses, he said. I’m not a teacher.

But of course you’re facilitating the sessions? she asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to make him uncomfortable in his hypocrisy. I know you wouldn’t expect us to stay past the semester’s end if you were taking the vacation yourself.

She waited for his answer. He cleared his throat and looked around the room. He said, Yes, well. We’ll see. We’ll have to… figure out… what works best. He changed the subject, gesturing to her room. Your classroom certainly looks festive. She was about to thank him for the sort-of compliment when he continued, Make sure it’s cleaned up before the new year starts, right? Great. Thanks so much, Ms. Winterson.

He walked out with a cheery wave and a Merry Christmas! Aoife thought sourly that if nothing else, she could claim one victory: He’d probably stop saying her first name altogether.

She looked at the time. He’d eaten up a lot of her rest period with his crap. She only had fifteen minutes left, but that was enough time to head to the teachers’ lounge for watery coffee and a bitch session with whoever was around. She locked her classroom behind her (not wanting one of the more sullen kids to be tempted to come and wreck the careful decorations) and rushed down the hall.

She hoped one of the older teachers would be there. They always had the perfect balance of bitterness and acceptance. You could complain and they’d call the principal a bastard, but then they’d shrug and help you come to terms with it. Bad administrators are a routine job hazard for high school teachers.

Only one teacher was in the lounge. Lounge was kind of a generous term. There was a fold-out poker table, a couple hard plastic chairs, and a counter with a sink and a few cupboards. There was a big window that overlooked the parking lot, filled with students’ dusty, rickety first cars and nicer, newer models purchased outright by parents. The gray sky held the promise of snow, or at least rain.

Ms. Bishop stood at the window, looking up to the pregnant sky. She was so far away in her mind, she didn’t even notice Aoife enter the room.

Ms. Bishop was the perfect small-town teacher, despite being at one of the biggest public schools in the center of Seattle, with cute floral print dresses and fluffy blonde hair that curled away from her pink, country girl face. She always had big smiles for the kids, and they were known to come to her when they had heartbreaks or other problems they couldn’t talk to the other adults about.

One of the other teachers made fun of her, calling her Marilyn Mon-No to highlight how she had all the curvy, wide-eyed good looks of the star, but with a prim and proper sensibility. She would always scold kids for cursing in class. Most of the other teachers had given up on calling the kids out on such things, except for the really bad words that could get the teacher themselves in trouble if a parent or admin heard the kid saying it.

Aoife felt weird just looking at this pretty woman as she daydreamed out the window. She almost left so as not to disturb her, but she’d already walked inside. It felt weirder to turn around and run off now.

Looks like snow, huh? she said, feeling utterly banal.

Ms. Bishop jumped a bit, shaking out her shoulder-length, fluffy blonde curls. Does it? she asked. I wasn’t really looking.

Aoife walked to the coffee pot. Yeah. When the sky is that color, we’re in for snowfall. Hopefully. Might just be wishful thinking on my part. I’d rather snow than more endless rain.

She felt like she was rambling. Pretty women had that impact on her. And Ms. Bishop was cute as hell, with her rosy cheeks and big eyes with long, fluttery eyelashes. Aoife usually avoided talking to her, not wanting to be awkward because of her crush and make a coworker uncomfortable.

She watched her a lot in the hallways, though. Kids were always going to her for advice or hugs. It was sweet how easily the kids got attached to her. Usually, high schoolers avoided appearing vulnerable, unless they really, really liked the teacher.

Yes, I see what you mean, Ms. Bishop said. I’m tired of the rain, too. She went to sit down at the table, trying to pretend like she was relaxing. But her shoulders were tense and she didn’t even have a cup of coffee to distract her from whatever was running through her mind.

Aoife asked as the coffee steeped, Ms. Bishop, do you want some coffee? I’m making a fresh pot.

She looked up, shaken out of her thoughtful reverie again. Oh, please, call me Melody, she said. It feels weird for another adult to call me by my teacher name, ha ha. It wasn’t really a laugh. She breathed the words out: Ha ha, a polite facsimile of laughter.

Call me Aoife, then, Aoife said. But you, uh, didn’t answer about the coffee?

Melody looked at the coffee pot like she’d never seen it before. What the heck was going on with her today? She wasn’t usually stuck in the clouds. Finally she said, No, thank you. I don’t think caffeine is the thing for me right now. She shook out her curls again, clearing her head, and Aoife had to keep herself from staring at the sunlight flickering off her golden hair.

Melody smiled widely and seemed to redirect herself to small talk. Any big plans for the holiday?

Oh, yeah. My family always goes hard this time of year, Aoife said happily. We do a full twelve days of celebration with everyone crammed into my parents’ house in Granite Falls.

Melody’s eyes widened. Wow, she said. That sounds awesome.

There are good and bad parts, Aoife said with a chuckle. Like family itself, I guess.

Melody’s face fell a bit. That’s for sure, she said, her mind wandering again.

What about you? What are your Christmas plans? Aoife asked, wanting to distract Melody from whatever was bothering her. She wouldn’t normally assume someone celebrated Christmas without asking first, but Melody always wore a silver cross necklace or a ring with a cross on it. In fact, she was the only adult Aoife had ever seen who still wore a purity ring, which Aoife was pretty sure that silver ring was.

Oh, usually I’d go to my parents, Melody said. But they’re not hosting this year. She tried to smile, but her voice sounded strained. So looks like my big plans are watching the Charlie Brown special and seeing if I can make the eggnog recipe I found online.

Without thinking, Aoife said, Oh, damn. Then she immediately regretted it.

Melody smiled sadly. It’ll be okay, she said. It’ll be nice. I’ll have time to myself. I haven’t had time to think to myself like that for a long time.

Aoife nodded vigorously, a little too much, but she didn’t want to make Melody sadder. She said, Do you have any friends in town you could join, though?

Melody said, All my friends are going out of town. It’s okay. They’ll be back for New Year’s, and then I’ll really party.

It sounded odd, the way she said she’d party, and Aoife knew that even Melody didn’t believe she’d really ring in the New Year hard enough to make up for being alone on Christmas. Aoife didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t invite Melody to her parents’ house, not without their permission. And something told her that Melody wouldn’t enjoy their Yule celebrations, anyway.

Because the Wintersons were practicing Wiccans. In popular parlance, witches. They celebrated Yule, the ancient holiday, not Christmas, and their week was full of rituals and blessings and magic. Which wasn’t that different from Christmas, but the key difference was that the Wintersons were worshiping the elements and a symbolic Sun God and Earth Goddess, rather than the birth of Jesus.

Given the various crosses that modestly adorned Melody Bishop, Aoife had a feeling she wouldn’t enjoy a witchy winter. So she only said, I did Christmas alone one year in college. Melody looked up at Aoife, not very hopefully. More politely listening to a stranger’s story. But Aoife continued, It was nice. I was able to take a lot of walks in the snow and really reflect on my year. It gave me time to be… introspective.

What it had really done was given her time to cast spells so she wouldn’t fail the insanely hard semester she had had coming up in the new year, and to get started studying (because you had to help the magic along; you couldn’t expect it to do everything for you). But she decided introspection was a good way to sum it up.

Melody smiled, but it was so strained, it was clearly more for Aoife’s benefit than for her own. She said, "Thanks. Yeah, that’s

Reviews for Yule Love Me on Christmas

[Sheri · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was really, really sweet. I loved the relationship between Aoife and Melody. I loved the Wintersons. And I thought the author did a really good job at talking about the two religions shown here, without preaching.

I laughed and I cried.

[Carol Foutts · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I thoroughly enjoyed the endearing, colorful family members as well as the blossoming romance set comfortably within a backdrop of the unique rituals and traditions of a Wicca Yule celebration. This story was enlightening as well as entertaining and heartwarming.