iAm A Morning Person

Melanie Puckett's first morning back home in Seattle was an uncharacteristically sunny one – even as early as it was. She was used to being up at the butt-crack of dawn. It was just part of her new 'normal'.

She wandered downstairs partially dressed. It was exceptionally un-Melanie of her. She was barefoot and her hair was a mess. She didn't care. She had slept wonderfully last night. She had spent seven glorious hours spooning Freddie Benson. God, had she missed him! He simply completed her in a way she couldn't begin to describe.

As soon as she entered the living room, Melanie felt… she wasn't appalled... she was shocked. Right there, right on the sofa, in a knot of naked limbs and hair, were Carly Shay and her own beautiful twin, Samantha. Melanie flushed. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by their sex life – that wasn't it at all. She wasn't – and could never be – embarrassed by them. She was embarrassed for them. Without so much as a word, Melanie gently and deftly reached for the blanket that was always thrown over the back of the sofa, tucking both girls in, obscuring their nudity. She loved them and they had a right to their love. They were grown, adult women. They were grown adults who loved each other as much as any two people could. Who was Melanie to judge them? She was simply the wandering minstrel.

Pulling the covers up to her sister's chin, she bent down and kissed her twin squarely on the forehead. With that, she plodded on into the kitchen. She was the only one up. It was her job to provide for the other three, whom she loved so completely.

Sam was not only her sister – but her twin to boot. Carly was… she was simply Carly Shay. She was Sam's reason for being, as far back as Melanie could remember. Then, of course, tucked away upstairs, amongst all her girliness, was her man – Freddie Benson. She loved him on par with her sister's love for sweet little Carly Shay.

Melanie was exhausted, of course, but she set to work in the kitchen as best she could. Her family depended on her. She loved them all. They had supported her when she had needed them, so breakfast was the very least that she could do. She had just begun to sing to herself, absentmindedly, when something broke her concentration. It was Sam's phone, now skittering silently along the kitchen counter. Recognizing the name on the Caller ID, Melanie answered it.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end of the line was slow and loose. Even without the Caller ID, it could be only one person.

"Sam?"

Melanie exhaled a long, deliberate breath. She had been dreading this, avoiding this, but she'd suffer any indignity for her sister. She owed her that much.

"It's Melanie, Mother… Why are you calling?"

"Where's your sister?"

"She's asleep… Do you realize what time it is?"

"Sleeping with that woman, no doubt… Why can't she just find a nice man?"

Melanie was in an awful position. She loved her mother – she had to. It wasn't even so much that, as the fact that this mess of a woman had given both Melanie and her sister life.

"How much have you had to drink?" Melanie knew, instinctively, that the answer was 'Quite a lot'.

"Such a goddamn disappointment… Why she couldn't be more like you, I don't know. She hasn't… hasn't even tried to settle down with someone nice…"

That tore it. Her mother or not, Pam Puckett was out of bounds.

"She has settled down with someone…"

"Not with a man…"

Melanie was beyond furious.

"No, Mother… you didn't leave that many good men around for us to choose from! Get it through your head, will you? Sam's gay… That's just the way she was born!"

"She hasn't tried to talk you out of men, has she?"

"Mother! What in God's Name is wrong with you? Haven't you caused her enough pain for one lifetime?"

"I hear so much out of the two of you about the First Amendment and what you're FREE TO DO, but nothing whatsoever about the First Commandment. What about honoring thy mother?"

"I'm not having this discussion with you… You've hurt us both enough, and BY THE WAY, honoring thy parents is the THIRD Commandment!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Missy… you spoiled, little rich bitch… you were still born in the back of a bus… If you're so goddamned smart, then what is the First Commandment, Little Girl?"

Melanie was shaking. Why couldn't she have had a family like other people had? She loved her sister, but her mother left an awful lot to be desired. She didn't give a damn anymore. A choice between her sister and her mother was no choice whatsoever. Sam was more important by far. If there was one thing Melanie loved more than her family, it was the only thing that was more important. The only thing more important than her family and her music was the being responsible for bestowing those gifts upon her – Her God.

"I AM THE LORD THY GOD! THOU SHALT HAVE NO OTHER GOD BEFORE ME!"

Melanie was emotionally spent.

"Look, I love you because I have to, but Sam's been hurt enough. Don't you dare hurt her again, or else…"

Melanie clicked off the call. She took a series of deep breaths. She had no idea what she was supposed to do or feel, but she knew that she had done the right thing. She had done the only thing her heart would allow her to do – choose Sam over their mother.

She did the only thing that she could, under the circumstances. In times like this – when she was unraveling inside – it was all Melanie could do to keep herself together. She needed to sing. God had given her song for this very reason. It was what she knew.

"…Morning has broken, like the first morning…"

"…Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird…"

"…Praise for the singing, praise for the morning…"

"…Praise for them springing fresh from the word…"

It never ceased to amaze her just what music could do for her soul. She felt all the venom and the vitriol leave her. She reminded herself that her mother was, in fact, a very sick woman – not that it excused her misinformed worldview towards Sam. Yes, she and Sam had both been born in the back of a city bus, but that didn't mean that they were second class citizens. Yes, she and Sam were identical twins. That did not mean that what sent Melanie's heart aflutter did so for her sister. She knew it didn't. Samantha didn't choose to love Carly Shay – her heart simply wanted what it wanted.

None of this mattered anymore, Melanie knew. It was getting light. She needed to occupy her idle hands. She had a family to feed.