Mrs. Greene actually makes an effort.

It takes her long hours of thinking, praying, crying against her damp pillow, but she tries because
she does love her daughter more than anything else in the world.

All her beliefs, everything that she was taught sometimes in her mother’s rough words, sometimes
with the uncomfortable tang of her father’s dull stare, was suddenly challenged and prompted to
mutate, to find a new shape around her undying motherly love.

Well, not suddenly, really. Mrs. Greene saw it coming deep in her chest, whenever her daughter’s
eyes bore with blatant disinterest in the air at the sight of any boy her age no matter how
handsome he was becoming. She saw it in the way Alyssa flinched just slightly, with her lower lip
trembling in a poorly hidden hint of a sob whenever she spoke against sin, against homosexuality,
against that type of… love.

Mrs. Greene’s heart clenches whenever she thinks back to that broken stare. She almost pushed
away the thing –the only thing- she cared about the most in the entire world.

But she’s changing.

She’s doing her absolute, total best, and she knows that Alyssa can tell because eyes that some
weeks ago were filled with the purest of the fears now shine with a light of tenderness and
gratitude that makes her reminiscence a time when her daughter was still safely secured under
her arm and not out there experiencing the trials and tribulations of life.

Well, a mother can only do so much before letting her offspring fly.

Rushed voices reach Mrs. Greene’s ears as she finishes adding salt to one of the bowls filled with
just-made popcorn. Then, a fist of giggles, so full of joy that they plant a smile on her commonly
freezing features.

She grasps the two recipients –one salty, one sweet in a way it would have never been allowed in
the house a month ago- and moves to the living room to find the source of the still on-going
chuckles.

One of the steps towards changing is, of course, allowing Emma Nolan, her daughter’s girlfriend, in
the house.

The blonde is sitting straight in the couch, feet caressing the soft carpet on the floor, her lips
stretched in a content smile and her transparent stare looking at Alyssa with such overpowering
softness and just raw, pure love that makes Mrs. Greene wonder if she was ever the source of that
kind of fondness herself.

Just besides her, bare feet on the couch, her daughter leans towards her girlfriend in the middle of
her happiness, stealing an affectionate glance before tilting her head back to laugh once again,
relaxed and carefree in a way Mrs. Greene has probably never seen prior.

It makes her both happy and incredibly sad at the same time.

“What’s funny, girls?”, she asks almost in a whisper, wanting, praying not to ruin the moment for
Alyssa.
There’s no such risk, she realizes shortly after. The girls turn back at her with still blooming grins in
their faces.

“Emma just… made a comparison”, Alyssa starts, glancing back at her girlfriend teasingly.

“Lys!”, the blonde complains, suddenly blushing, “No- not really. Just an observation-”

“That included Mrs. Williams… and a French bulldog”.

Even Mrs. Greene is surprised by the quick chuckle that escapes from her lips. She tries to regain
self-control almost immediately, but… well… she can definitely see it.

“Oh, Miss Nolan, that is not so nice of you”, she scolds almost playfully, watching as the blonde
draws a light, embarrassed pout to her lips.

Alyssa seems completely unfazed.

“Well, Mrs. Williams wasn’t so nice with Emma the other day, so…”

That piques Mrs. Greene’s interest. Her eyes move to the blonde’s figure again, finding slight
discomfort in her posture.

“Oh?”

Alyssa gives Emma a meaningful look and the girl sighs, ready to follow suit.

It gives Mrs. Greene an idea in terms of the dynamic of their relationship. Of course, Alyssa is her
daughter, after all.

“I was just crossing the street the other day because I wanted to buy some sweets. She just
stopped me on my way to the store and started yelling that I was a shame to this community and
that me and my beliefs should just leave as quickly as possible”.

She sounds nonchalant, used to those types of words, but Mrs. Greene can see the fiery light
burning in Emma’s joyful eyes dying slightly, faltering under yet another instance of harassment.

At her side, almost without noticing, Alyssa clutches her girlfriend’s hand tightly, her own gaze
clouded by a mixture of worry and rage.

Mrs. Greene feels something similar tightening her throat.

“Well… that’s completely unacceptable”, she says, trying to control her sudden anger, “She should
not be allowed to yell at you –an eighteen-year-old! - in the middle of the street”.

Emma smiles slightly again, almost as if the sympathy was enough.

Mrs. Greene can’t help but to feel her own lips tugging downwards in shame.

She owes that girl so much.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Greene, no worries. It doesn’t happen as often now, so”.
Emma’s mood seems to be up again, and she uses her nose to nudge against Alyssa’s shoulder
almost as if in a comforting gesture. The brunette complies, calmer. Mrs. Greene takes a second to
answer.

“I could always have a chat with her, though. Or maybe we can just… throw her a bone or
something”.

Emma and Alyssa’s scandalous laughter makes her smiles again.

There is something about those moments, about the loudness, about the smell of the popcorn she
left on the coffee table that makes her feel… full, complete, less lonely. It’s like having the whole
family picture again, and not the shattered pieces her husband- ex-husband left behind one day
without looking back.

So they just sit and eat, the three of them. Mrs. Greene has established a strict open-door policy
for Alyssa’s room for obvious reasons, but the girls spend most of the time downstairs anyways,
sometimes making a point to include her in their activities, prompting her to break more and more
with her icy façade.

It’s nice.

Not the movie, though. The movie is really, really bad.

Emma is in the middle of yet another sarcastic comment when Alyssa’s phone lets out a short
sound. After a quick read, she tilts her head back in a sign of frustration.

“Shoot”, she murmurs, and Mrs. Greene silently thanks her for the replacement to the word she
would probably utter if being alone, “I forgot my Maths book at Kaylee’s”.

Emma tilts her head lightly, her eyes studying her girlfriend’s expression.

“You can pick it up tomorrow morning, right?”

“No”, Alyssa sighs, “She’s going on a weekend vacation with her family. She leaves tomorrow
early, early morning and I don’t feel like driving with my pillow still on my face. I need to finish
homework before Monday”, she complains once again, her voice turning into a light whine.

Mrs. Greene thinks about arguing against her blatant frustration, but she holds herself back.

Her daughter is frustrated, and it is valid for her to show it.

“I can go get it for you!”, Emma says suddenly, already sitting straighter on the couch. She seems
determined, ready to help her girlfriend out.

Mrs. Greene has to make the conscious effort to hide a grin.

Well, it is nice knowing that her daughter has such a caring person by her side.

“No, Em. It’s alright. I’ll go get it”, Alyssa argues, already putting her feet down in the carpet and
looking for her shoes.

The blonde frowns slightly, stretching on the couch.

“Really? It’s really not an issue”.

Alyssa smiles, then, and presses an impulsive kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. Immediately after, her
eyes search for Mrs. Greene’s stare, the hint of fear shining in her pupils, but the older woman
merely gifts her a light smile.

“Come on Emma, Alyssa can go. We can stay here and make some milkshakes”.

The blonde turns towards Mrs. Greene with wide, clearly surprised eyes.

They have never been alone. Her girlfriend has always been around them, pulling them together
and very often clarifying information back and forth to ease a conversation that was slightly
awkward at first.

They are kind of past that situation, but still.

Emma is surprised.

Alyssa looks at her girlfriend with the corner of her eyes, analyzing whether to intervene or not.
She does trust her mother’s intentions, but she really, really wants things to stay as blissfully
happy as they are at the moment.

She almost speaks up, but the blonde beats her into it.

“Sure. Chocolate?”

Her voice sounds a bit faltering and her cheeks are slightly reddened, but Mrs. Greene smiles big
this time, almost relieved.

“Yes, darling. I even have some whipped cream in the fridge”, there is a playful tone interlacing
with her voice, fact that somehow both confuses Alyssa and makes her relax.

When she has already put her shoes on and grabbed her car keys, she leaves the house not
without pulling her favorite women in a brief hug.

And that’s how Mrs. Greene and Emma are left alone, standing in the middle of the kitchen,
breathing some seconds that approach dangerously to an uncomfortable territory.

“So, milkshakes?”, the older woman tries, and the blonde smiles brightly only at the mention of
the food.

Made of sunshine, Mrs. Greene thinks.

They get the things out of the fridge quickly, the faint sound of the forgotten movie accompanying
their movements.

“I love your milkshakes, Mrs. Greene, they are yummy”, Emma confesses, clear eyes looking at the
simple ingredients almost in wonder, “I tried to make them at home for Alyssa but they weren’t
nearly as good!”

The older woman chuckles slightly, letting big scoops of her daughter’s favorite ice cream fall into
the blender.
“It’s just half ice-cream, half milk, and then…” she stretches, almost as if telling a secret. Emma’s
gaze becomes shinier. “Some drops of cocoa here and then”.

“Ah!”, Emma exclaims, putting three big glasses in place, “so that’s the secret!”.

Mrs. Greene nods with a smile, staring down at her work.

“I just discovered the recipe the first time I did one of these… I mean, recently. We haven’t had
anything sugary in this house for… years”.

It’s a surprising confession even for Mrs. Greene, who feels suddenly exposed under Emma’s
innocent, sincere attention. The blonde seems unfazed by it, nevertheless. She eases her
discomfort with a wide grin and more appreciative words towards her milkshakes.

The older woman sighs. She is changing. And change means doing things she wouldn’t have done
before. And that includes growing the guts to apologize to a gay teenager for almost having ruined
her last year of high school. Especially if said teenager is the girlfriend of her own lesbian daughter
who finds the stars and the moon in her partner’s eyes.

“Actually, I…”, she begins, and Emma looks up to her again, tensing her shoulders. “I wanted to
apologize to you, Emma”, she breathes out. The blonde’s features soften considerably. “I know my
attitude has been deplorable. Both towards you and my daughter. I swear cross my heart that I
thought I was doing the right thing, but…”

“I know”, the blonde interrupts softly. “I know that you love Alyssa and want the best for her”.

Mrs. Greene has to blink several times to keep her tears at bay.

“That does not give me the right to hurt you. It doesn’t work like that”.

Emma nods almost solemnly.

“I know. I forgive you. Thank you for telling me this, Mrs. Greene. It means a lot”.

The older woman stares at the blonde. It strikes her only now how mature Emma is behind her
bubbly, smiley personality. The odds she had to face throughout her life, just barely shying out of
her teenage years, have shaped her into a strong, yet absolutely loving, positive individual. She
tries hard to keep it up Mrs. Green can see it. It makes her feel somewhat filled with pride.

Darn it, that’s her daughter-in-law, after all.

“Thank you”, the oldest woman murmurs back, feeling lighter. After a few silent, comfortable
moments of work, she dares speak again. “Can I ask you a question, Emma?”

The blonde nods, pouring carefully the just-made milkshake mixture into the glasses.

“Have your parents reached out to you?”

It’s a genuine question, tinted with slight worry. She’s heard about Emma’s parents, of course.
Everyone else in town has. Everybody talked about the shame, the sadness, the hurt, but nobody
talked about a fifteen-year-old Emma knocking on her grandmother’s door with all her belongings
drenching under the night rain.
It actually takes the blonde a few steadying moments to answer. She seems truly taken out of
guard.

“No… not really”, she answers simply, shrugging, “I guess disappearing was easier”.

Mrs. Greene sighs, utterly disappointed.

“You deserve better, Emma”, she says then, and the blonde’s shy stare is suddenly a bit waterier,
“You deserve all the love in the world. Never doubt it”.

Emma gifts the woman a slight smile, but when her stare fixes on the full glasses in front of her,
transparent eyes are still clouded by slight insecurity.

“I just… I mean, I did make their lives a bit harder, didn’t I?”

Mrs. Greene frowns deeply, letting her fingers gaze Emma’s shoulder in a gesture of hesitant
comfort.

“Emma, you are an intelligent, kind, beautiful, wonderful woman. Who you are should not make
their lives harder. Believe me, even I get it now”.

The blonde chuckles slightly, but still folds into a rush of sadness.

Mrs. Greene feels her heart clenching in her chest.

“It’s… I know, but, sometimes I…I feel like I make everyone’s life harder. I mean, my grandmother,
Alyssa… you. Everyone I care about!”.

There are hot tears now bubbling in Emma’s eyes and Mrs. Greene won’t let her suffer anymore.
She pulls the girl in into the most motherly hug she can muster, and runs the palm of her hand up
and down the girl’s back just as she did whenever Alyssa fell from her favorite park game when
she was a child.

“Emma, I have talked to your grandmother. She loves you deeply and can’t be happier to have you
around. And Alyssa… darling… she would give anything and everything up for you. You are the light
of her life. I can tell you that”.

The blonde exhales another long sob, clearly moved as she shakes against Mrs. Greene’s warm
hug.

“And my life, Emma… You haven’t ruined my life. You made it better”.

The youngest breathes deeply before pulling away with a soft frown scrunched in her eyebrows.

“Better?”

Mrs. Greene purses her lips in a worried gesture before gathering her next words.

“I’ve spent years seeing the joy in my daughter’s eyes dying day by day. I’ve seen how she folded
into herself, how she started to turning her back towards me more often. The worst part is, I knew
that it was my fault. I was just unable to make her smile”, she tells Emma, her chest hurting under
the strength of all the painful memories, “But when you came by Emma… oh, it was like she
found… this cozy warmth again. She grinned and moved from room to room as if she was floating.
She still does, you know? And the past weeks have been difficult, yes, but… magical. We are
rebuilding our bond. We are getting better. And it’s all thanks to you, Emma Nolan. You came in
like a storm, yes, but a good, refreshing one. You are a blessing. Never feel like anything else”.

The blond breaks out in soft sobs as she buries herself in Mrs. Greene’s kind embrace again.

It’s nice, in a way she feels allowed to be both weak and strong as soft memories take her back to
her early, happy, childhood years.

They stay like that for a moment, breaking and fixing themselves in their hug. After a while, when
Emma’s shoulders stop shaking, Mrs. Greene pulls away to dry the blonde’s stray tears.

“We better move to the living room. If my daughter finds out that I made you cry, I’ll be banned
from my own house forever”.

Emma chuckles as she steadies her breathing. She looks at Mrs. Greene tenderly, her eyes
brightening up once again.

“I’ll tell her that these are good tears. Thank you Mrs. Greene”, she murmurs.

In exchange, she receives a wide, uncharacteristic smile, and a request to switch the formal name
to a casual ‘Veronica’.

A few minutes later, when Alyssa opens the front door apologizing for taking so long and claiming
that Kaylee was a bit too excited to tell her all about Nick’s last oh-so-romantic gesture, she finds
her mother and her girlfriend chatting pleasantly on the living room, sipping into milkshakes that
look so delicious they make her mouth water.

They look over her and greet her in, allowing her a space just in the middle of them.

When her daughter smiles dopily at her girlfriend, letting the palm of her hand caress softly her
thigh in a sign of full attention, Mrs. Greene finds a sense of plenitude she thought past her reach.

She’s glad to be trying, and happy to know that her efforts are outstandingly fruitful.