Westfield Valley Fair Mall had always been teeming with people. The stores were always filled with men and women, with or without little children, all trying to find that purchase. The pounding bass of each different clothing store vibrated with the most recent hip hop song. Scents wafted over from the cosmetic shops while spotlights glittered off the precious gemstones set out by the jewelers in their tasteful displays.

Now, everything was multiplied two. Christmas always packed the shopping center up to its gills and then some. Walking from one end to the other was like wading through a sea of short-tempered, unrepentant bears that had just awoken prematurely from their hibernation.

Most of the time, Taylor Petronski didn't mind shopping here. Granted that the only time she actually went shopping was when her lover dragged her out with the promise of a break for lunch, but still, it counted as shopping. She really didn't mind indulging her lover seeing as she got to spend half the time sitting in the hard wooden benched, staring up at the expansive skylights.

This time though, this time was too much. Taylor growled as she felt another being step on her feet. How people managed not to see a six-foot plus woman was beyond her. A few more yards and she would be home free.

Her long legs made short work of the distance, having to dodge an errant, empty baby stroller, an elderly man with a walker and group of ragtag teenagers who were all wearing headphones. Taylor gave the last a double glance, turning at the sight of outrageous nose piercings and bright pink and green spiky mohawks.

The parking garage gave her a bit of relief. Although having to dodge speeding cars vying for scant parking space wasn't exactly her idea of safer. Her own black Jeep Wrangler was ensconced on the very top, parked right in front of the stained glass windows over the food court, it had taken her a mere seven minutes of circling before she finally pounced on the vacant slot in the little known roof parking. Thanks god she was leaving and not coming.

Traffic on Stevens Creek Boulevard was alright. Certainly more clogged than usual, but it was digestable. Taylor flicked on her radio, filling her car with the smooth tones of jazzy Christmas songs. A few more minutes and she would be out of this holidays shopping mayhem.

Half an hour of long waits at red signal lights and dodging weaving sports coupes brought her to the vast parking lot of a Target store. Taylor sat in her car for a few moments tapping her thumbs on the leather bound steering wheel.

Did she really need to buy anything? She had already gotten gifts for Rachelle and their daughter, not to mention all the family that she still talked to. The cards were signed and sent out, the house was decorated with holiday cheer and the tree was trimmed with tinsel and lights. She was on vacation until after the New Year, the head honcho, Stephanie, giving her a week and a half off.

So, what was she looking for?

By all rights, Taylor should have been home, puttering around the house with her partner, readying their home for the public consumption of their relatives and relations. She would have been home goofing off with Erica and Rachelle, would have been trying to decorate a squirming Coco with festive ribbons.

If it hadn't been for that little disagreement that she had had with her partner this morning.

Rachelle had wanted to invite all the relatives over to their place. Taylor hadn't minded. She thought her in-laws were great, not to mention the rest of the blonde's extended family. Rachelle's sister and her family where going to pop up early so the two siblings could spend a little times together for something or other. Her own brother was showing up with his partner, and her sister was working on convincing her husband to join them.

And her mother was showing up.

Of all the people that Rachelle had to invite, she just had to have picked her mother.

Eccentric Aunt Lee with her bright lime green muumuu and many neon feather boas would have been alright. Religious Uncle George with her evangelical views that put Taylor as the exception to the rule would have been acceptable. Even lazy Cousin Justin with his little triplet four year old hurricanes would have been endured.

But her mother?

Taylor grumbled under her breath as she slid out of her Jeep and headed inside Target. She passed the Salvation army volunteer jangling little brass bells, pausing only long enough to toss a five and all the change in her pocket into the standard red bucket.

A wave of heated air rushed over her as the automatic doors swung open, driving the chill of the winter night away rather nicely. The smell of butter popcorn and spicy tacos came with it, wafting over from the small, open snack shop that the store opened ever hopefully to their potentially hunger shoppers.

Taylor shook her head as she headed straight into the houseware and food section. Advertisement tip number thirty seven? lead the customers' stomachs to good smelling, ready made food and they will buy.

Sandy, her Sales VP had certainly instilled that little tip into her through constant repetition. That and the interesting facts that the VP pointed out about food mass production. Taylor would never eat a McDonald Chicken McNugget ever again.

The executive made her way past the neatly laid out aisles, the soles of her Doc Martens squeaking softly on the linoleum flooring. Bright fluorescent lights lit up every nook and cranny. Large overhanging signs with color coordinated arrows led her into the movie section all the way across to the other side of the store.

Taylor paused in front of the action section, pulling out the dark, silvery DVD cover of Underworld. She had really enjoyed the movie that time that she had gone to see it with Rachelle. Granted that she more than happy to oblige an arm for her lover to hide under, but it didn't hurt that the movie itself was worth getting.

Several movie genres later and a few DVDs heavier found Taylor in the shoe section. Her dad had been wanting a new pair of hiking boots and maybe a few more pairs of wool socks. Maybe there was something there for him.

She was browsing in the mens section, looking for a new pair of steel toed boots to replace the battered old ones that she had, when the question popped into her head.

What was the point, other than commercialism, and possibly sexism, that require society to separate shoes into different genders? Was it because it was socially acceptable? Why bother to categorize all the construction boots under the mens and the high heels under women? What about the people, like herself or her brother, who tended to buy articles of the opposite gender?

Taylor scooched past a red cart loaded with things and a pregnant woman with a squawking two year old in the childrens' seat. The harried looking woman was trying to soothe her kid while in the midst of a conversation with a someone on the other end of her cell phone.

Maybe she'd look for something that Erica would keep on for more than two seconds before peeling them off.

Another of life's mysteries. How in the world can a little four year old untie twice knotted shoelaces that would have given Houdini a run for his money. The same kid that would go klunking around the house in her size ten and a half shoes. Shoes that little Erica could sit in float down the creek in.

Taylor wrinkled her nose at a pair of shiny, bright pink, sparkly galoshes. She wasn't really partial to anything pink, but maybe her daughter would like it. Rachelle would certainly think them cute. What was it with women and thinking all small things cute?

These were tossed into the carrying basket that the executive had managed to pilfer from the electronics department, along with the current copy of Car and Driver and a Finding Nemo DVD.

After a quick detour to the baby section to retrieve a couple of infant booties and brushed cotton blankets for Cousin Sherry and her newborn baby Darren, Taylor headed for the checkout lanes. She was more than eager to get out before the commercialism Borgs got to her. Like they said, resistance was futile. Not that her or her wallet was protesting all that much.

Checkout lanes were bustling with people, the constant bleeping of the laser barcode scanners sounding out like an anarchic symphony of modern technology. Taylor sighed as she hopped in a shortish line, hoping that she would get home within the hour.

Her attention was caught by a scruffy looking kid in front of her. His clothes were dirty and ripped in some places, his shoes old and worn with a bit of a gray sock sticking out of one toe. The kid's mousy brown hair was the only thing clean on him.

In his hand were a pair of pumps that Taylor had seen on sale. They were black with low heels and a tasteful little black leather bow tied off center on the back of the heel strap.

The line moved up one person, bringing the little boy up to the clerk. The teenager glance down at him, her eyes bored and her feet probably more than tired from standing her entire shift. She rang him up, her voice a monotone.

"Twelve fifty three is your total."

A well wrinkled plastic grocery bag full of coins was set on the counter. The clerk sigh before emptying it and sorting through them by denomination. Taylor shifted impatiently before biting back a sigh. Of all the check out lanes, she just had to come to this one.

"You've got five seventy two here. You need six dollars and eighty one cents more."

The kid searched frantically through his pockets, pulling out everything that he had out of them. A key, a bit of paper and a match was joined by a penny and half a paperclip. He bit his lip as the rest of his search yielded nothing more.

"That's still not enough kid."

The little boy sniffled, scrubbing his face with his ragged sleeve. "But I gotta buy these shoes! They're for my momma and they're just her size! I hafta get these shoes. Daddy said that there's not much time and Momma's been sick for a while! It's Christmas Eve and I know that Momma will love them!"

Taylor swallowed hard, listening the little kid. How many times had see wished growing up that she was someone else's daughter? How many times had she wished that her own mother would just go away?

"I want her to look beautiful if she has to go meet Jesus tonight!"

The teenaged clerk's eyes softened just a bit, but she still shook her head.

"As much as I'd like to just give them to you, I can't. Sorry kid, you'll just have to come back later with the rest of the money."

He looked so heartbroken as he stood there with twin tear tracks trailing down his face, his eyes locked forlornly at the cheep pair of pumps.

Taylor coughed, getting the clerk's attention. She placed her things on the counter, next to the pair of shoes.

"Just ring up my stuff with his shoes. It'll be on me."

The teenager nodded, quickly swiping the stuff over the scanner. The executive paid for the entire amount, asking for a separate bag for the little boy's shoes. She pulled them over to the side before kneeling down to look him in the eye.

"Your Momma's been sick huh?"

"Yes ma'am. Daddy says that Momma's going hafta see Jesus real soon." his eyes were watery, full of longing and love.

"What's your name, little man?"

"My name's Tim."

"Tell you what Tim." Taylor shifted and held the bag enticingly close to him. "Why don't we take these shoes to your Momma, make her feel pretty."

Little Tim leaped at her, wrapping his grubby hands around her neck and squeezing as tight as could. Taylor could barely make out the whispered thank you before a little hand was in hers and dragging her out of the store.

Taylor helped her little passenger into her Jeep before following his directions the local Valley Medical Hospital. The windows and the front lobby was awash with holiday lights, bringing a bit of holiday cheer to the rather depressing place.

They took an elevator up four flights, then trekked down two hallways and a short corridor before stopping at a small room.

The lights were turned down low, the muted beeping of the EKGs standing sentry over the two bedridden patients and a third empty bed. Tim led Taylor in quietly, his hand in her once again.

Taylor was pulled to stand beside the bed of a frail, thin woman who had certainly seem better days. Her hair was gone completely, her skin tight and almost translucent over her slight frame as an oxygen tube fed her air through her nose.

Bright green eyes that could have been Rachelle's fluttered open.

"Hi Momma."

"Timmy." the woman glanced at her son before turning back to Taylor. "Who's this?"

"This is Taylor." the little boy pulled the executive closer. "She's a friend of mine."

"Hello ma'am."

"Timmy, could you get Momma some M&Ms?"

Tim scurried away, eager to make his momma happy.

Taylor seated herself on a nearby chair, unsure of what to say, or why she was even here in the first place.

"Don't know who you are, or why Timmy knows you, but thank you."

"Wasn't a problem ma'am." Taylor swallowed. "He's one of the nicest boy that I've ever met."

"Name's Gwendolyn Samson. You can call me Gwen."

"Taylor Petronski. The pleasure is mine, I assure you."

They stared at each other for a long moment before Tim can barging back in with his bag of M&Ms and his father in tow.

"Hi honey." Gwen smiled up at her husband. "This is Taylor. She's a friend of Timmy's."

Taylor shook hands with the burly man, noticing the rough calluses that lined his palms.

"Name's Chris Samson."

"Pleasure to meet you."

Chris turned to his bedridden wife, kissing her forehead with obviously affection before seating himself on the other side of the hospital bed, his wife's smaller hand enveloped in his.

"Why don't you give your Momma her new shoes?"

Tim brightened and quickly revealed the black pumps to his mother, setting them right next to her feet. "I got these for you Momma. I didn't have enough money for them, buy Taylor told the lady to charge her for it. I'll save up enough to pay her back though, honest."

Gwen blinked, her eyes on the shoes. "Timmy?"

"It's alright Gwen. They're a gift from me and Timmy." Taylor smiled, trying to put the older couple at ease.

"We can't do that?" Chris reached for his wallet. "I mean, we don't even know you."

"No you don't, but your Timmy helped me out a bunch and it's the least that I can do for him in return."

"He did?" the sick woman was befuddled. "How?"

Taylor stood and smiled melancholy at the three. "He reminded me of me."

"Of you?"

"Mmmhmm?my own Momma and I aren't the closest people. He reminded me that it wasn't entirely her fault. She's coming over to the house that I share with my lover and maybe, just maybe this year will be a little different."

They talked for a bit, until visiting hours were over and the nurse herded her out. Taylor bid the family goodbye. She drove towards home with heavily light heart.

Rachelle was more than a bit miffed from her being away for the day.

"Where in the world where you? I tried calling your cell phone but it was ringing in your briefcase!"

Taylor didn't say anything, simply wrapping her arms around her lover. The blonde relaxed in her embrace, wrapping her own arms around the taller woman's trim waist. The two of them stood there in the open doorway, hugging each other for the longest second.

"Sorry for being a pain in the left butt cheek." the executive murmured as she reluctantly let go. "Anyone here yet?"

Rachelle nodded. "Lilian's here already. Erica's getting teased by your brother and your parents are coming in ten minutes."

Taylor sighed before leaning down, tangling her hand in short blonde hair. They kissed, their bodies melding into each other, leaving no room for light to leak through.

"Oh Jesus, do you have to do that in front of the kid?" Alex popped up, Erica riding on his broad shoulders as he walked into his sister kissing her lover. "Isn't she kinda young for this sort of thing?"

Taylor pulled away breathlessly, her chest rising and falling at uneven intervals. "Put a sock in it Alexander."

Erica giggled as her horsey growled before squirming down to get a hug from her bigger mommy.

Steven, Alex's partner, was standing at the window, one eye on the two women and the other on the driveway.

"You guys might want to stow it. Taylor's mom is coming up the driveway."

Taylor shooed everyone into the den, leaving her the only person in the foyer. Rachelle scooped up Erica reluctantly and gave her lover a peck on the cheek for heading in with the others.

Taylor paused her with a hand on her forearm. "Love you."

The blonde smiled. "Love you back. Good luck."

The executive nodded and took deep breath. This Christmas was going to be different. No more pushing her mother's buttons, no more arguments over religion, no more baiting her mother.

And hopefully no more distance between the two of them.

Rome wasn't built in a day and their relationship would take time to heal.

But it was a start.

If she could survive the company trying to ream her ass for being a lesbian, she could survive her mother...right???

The doorbell chimed from the recesses of the vast kitchen.

Taylor took another breath before opening the door.

"Hello Mom?"