The Very Best Christmas Ever (So Far)

I started this last December (2013) when a couple of fellow authors ran into a patch of very bad luck and needed some help. As it turned out, I used another story for them and decided to save this one for Robb. The problem was by then it was after Christmas; I had no desire to use another holiday when airport security would be a nightmare, so I decided to make this a Christmas in July story.

As a brief reminder, this story takes place in 2004.

Thanks to my son Bobby for the information about Pat’s guitar, and to Tim Mead, Tisha, and Gail Morse for the edits and the encouragement.

The Very Best Christmas Ever (So Far)

I

Pat Mulcahy shivered as he hurried up the back porch steps of the big house in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The temperature was in the single digits, and he felt the chill through his winter jacket. Still, what could you expect a few days before Christmas? 

Snow would be nice. He grinned to himself and pulled open the door that led into the Mathesons’ kitchen.   

The Mathesons weren’t really his family, but— 

They kind of were. John Robert, called JR by the whole family and Jar by his older brother, had been Pat’s best friend for forever, and the Mathesons had taken him in after his father had beat him up, this time so badly he’d broken Pat’s arm and sent him to the emergency room.  

Pat’s smile faded, and he shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold. He didn’t remember much about that night beyond trying to fight back, which wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, but he hadn’t been able to stand being his father’s punching bag anymore.  But his father had more experience with fighting, and he’d landed the blow that knocked Pat unconscious.  

It was the pain in his arm, an unending tsunami of agony that yanked him out of the comforting darkness that wrapped around him like his mother’s embrace. Through that pain, he’d managed to call the one number on his phone’s speed dial. 

“What’s wrong with you, Kevin Patrick? Do you know what freaking time it—” 

“JR, please… please help me.” 

“Pat? What’s wrong?” 

“My father—” The hatred and bigotry that had poured out of his father’s mouth scared him worse than the blows. 

“Are you safe? Is he there?” 

“I don’t know.” Pat’s voice was so thready he wasn’t sure if his friend heard him. 

“Get out of the house. And hang on. We’re on our way.” 

Get out of the house? How was he supposed to do that? A sound at the back of the house gave him the impetus he needed. He braced his right arm with his left and somehow managed to stumble out the front door and onto the lawn before he collapsed to his knees. 

It had been his fault. After his mom has passed away, the grief counselor had suggested he keep a journal. He’d used it to keep track not only of day-to-day stuff, but of his conquests as well—Andrea, Beth, Carol, Lori, Maggie, Sandy, Diana—the list went on and on and he’d never have remembered them otherwise. But whatever had possessed him to write about his encounter with Andy Hancock? 

A car pulled up to the curb, and then JR and his dad were kneeling beside him. 

“Where does it hurt, Patrick?” 

“Everywhere.” He did his best not to cry. He was a badass, after all. They called him Damien, after the kid who was the Antichrist in The Omen. He was damned proud of that nickname and did his best to live up to it. Only this time maybe he’d gone too far. 

The next thing he knew, he was being examined in the emergency room, and the doctor was saying something about him having to stay overnight for observation. His ribs were bruised, and as well as his arm, his nose was broken. JR was allowed to stay with him. Jack Matheson left to talk to the doctor. 

It wasn’t until later that Pat learned his father had been arrested, an order of protection had been obtained barring him from seeing his son, and the Mathesons had become Pat’s guardians. 

He’d always envied his best friend having such a loving family, and now in spite of his reputation, they’d taken him in and made him part of it.  

To show Jack Matheson how grateful he was, he’d decided to get his act together and become an architect, although it was tough going. Too bad Mr. Matheson wasn’t a chef. Pat loved to cook, and he would have had no trouble with that.

Still, this time he was going to do what was right, not what was easy.

“Marti and Alice are waiting in the minivan, Jill,” he told her. “I’ve got most of the suitcases loaded into it, and Elf’s stroller is packed away too.”  

Elf was the Matheson’s youngest child. He’d put in an appearance the day Wills and Theo were married the first time, making it an even more memorable day.  

“We just have to wait for JR to get his butt in gear.” 

“Thank you, Pat.” Jill Matheson adjusted the diaper bag she’d slung over her shoulder. “I really wish you were flying down to DC with us.” The family was going to Washington to spend their first grandson’s first Christmas together.  “Wills and Theo are going to miss you.” 

“Only for a few days.” He’d started college in the fall, and he was hoping to graduate a couple of semesters early if he could. That would entail extra classes, including this one, an elective that only ran a few weeks. Since the semester ended on December twenty-third, Pat planned to fly down the next day. He’d be with the family on Christmas Eve. He was proud that they trusted him enough to let him stay here on his own until then. 

She studied him thoughtfully. “Will you be all right staying home alone?” 

“It’s only for a few days,” he repeated. “I’ll be fine, Jill.” Although he wasn’t her child, or even her stepchild, Pat felt the warmth of her love.  

“That colleague of Wills’s should arrive some time on Thursday.”  

“Wills said to probably expect him for dinner.” None of the family had met Kyle Winchester before, but Wills vouched for him. Jack and Jill had been grateful, but no more so than Pat. Someone had to be there to take care of Jill’s American Bobtails and the yellow Lab that was supposed to be JR’s but wound up being Elf’s. If Mr. Winchester hadn’t agreed to housesit until the family returned on the twenty-seventh, Pat would have stayed, and he’d have missed Christmas with the family, something he cherished, considering how little he’d had of it before the Mathesons took him in.  

Jill ran a distracted hand through her hair and glanced around the kitchen. “Where did I leave the—?” 

“The list? It’s on the fridge.”  

Jill had a loose-leaf page of instructions that dealt with feeding and grooming schedules, as well as when to clean the litter pan and how frequently to walk Dog Four. 

“You’ll make sure Mr. Winchester understands what he has to do?” 

“I will.”  

“And you’ll eat well in the meantime?” 

“I promise, and it won’t be takeout.” Pat had taught himself to cook after his mother died. It was either that or survive on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, because his father couldn’t even feed himself. “Alice would have a heart attack.” 

Jill laughed, but then she sighed. “I wish Alice could join us in Washington.”  

“Me too.” Pat sighed as well. Alice Wainwright had been the Matheson’s cook/housekeeper/confidant and keeper of secrets for longer than Pat had been JR’s best friend. Earlier she’d taken him aside and shown him a freezer filled with labeled Tupperware containers, enough not only for him, but for Mr. Winchester as well. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her he’d done some cooking and freezing himself. 

Although Alice was riding to the airport with them, her flight would be heading for New York and not DC. This was a disappointment for everyone, including Alice. Wills and Theo had found a Unitarian Church they were both comfortable with, and after they’d decided to have the family visit for Christmas, they’d arranged for a child dedication ceremony for Baby Bear. The Unitarian version of baptism would be held the day after Christmas. 

“I’m afraid we’re going to lose her, Pat. She’s not getting any younger.” 

“Excuse me?” Pat was floored. Being in contact with Jar’s grandparents, who were in their nineties, he didn’t consider seventy-two, Alice’s age on her next birthday, that old. 

“Oh, I don’t mean she’s going to die. It’s just she can’t keep rushing to Queens every time her daughter decides she needs to be there. One of these days, it’s going to be too much for her, and she’ll decide it’s easier all around to stay in Rosedale.” 

“You’re right—I wish you weren’t.” In order to accommodate her daughter, Alice had attended every important occasion for her grandchildren, from baptisms to graduations to marriages, flying or sometimes being driven the two hundred six miles to the little town on the Queens/Nassau border.   

Just then, JR came into the kitchen, causing a welcome diversion. “Yo, he, ho, yo, hum,” he sang. He dragged two huge suitcases behind him, and Little Peter—Elf—chortled wildly and held onto a suitcase, letting his big brother give him a ride. “We’re good to go, Mom.” 

“Do I need to change Elf’s diaper?” 

“No!” Elf’s vocabulary was expanding, but that was his favorite word. “No! No! No!” 

JR leaned down and ruffled his brother’s mop of blond curls, grinning at his mom. “No, Dad’s already done that.” 

“All right. Come here, little man.”  Jill held out her arms, and Elf scrambled to his feet and threw himself at her. She held him up and rubbed her nose against his. “We’re going to fly on a jet plane and go see your brothers and your nephew!” 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” 

Jill smiled over his head. “Have you seen your father?” 

“Here I am, Jilly. JR, get those suitcases into the back of the van, please? Pat, would you let Marti and Alice know we’re ready to leave?” 

“They’re already waiting in the minivan, sir.”   

“Okay, then.” Jack rubbed his hands together.  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

II

It was amazing how quiet the minivan was now that Pat was the only one in it. He changed the radio station to a classical one that was playing Borodin. If anyone asked, he’d deny to the death that he’d programmed this station into the radio.  

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the beautiful music and wondered if he’d be able to translate it to his guitar. He’d started playing a few months into his freshman year in high school and had gotten good enough that when Wills told JR he was going to marry Theo legally, Pat played for them before the ceremony. 

That had been a great day, even though it had been overcast and drizzled a bit. Wills and Theo loved each other so much.  

He hoped that one day he’d find a love like that. 

** 

Pat let the minivan roll to the end of the long driveway, put it in park, and switched off the ignition. It was a good vehicle, but he wished he could have driven Jack’s Cadillac Roadster. Three things had prevented that: the weather was too cold to put the top down, the red convertible wasn’t big enough to hold the whole family, and probably what was most important, Jack didn’t let anyone, not even Wills, drive his car. 

Wouldn’t it have been amazing though, to cruise around town in that beauty? The Roadster would have drawn the eyes of the hot guys who wouldn’t give him a second glance if he was driving his own car.  

He’d been stunned when he saw the Dodge Stratus sedan parked in front of the Matheson house and realized it was a graduation present for him.  Considering everything they had done for him, he hadn’t expected a gift like this. And okay, the car was six years old and the color was a deep purple, but if Jack and Jill were giving it to him, he’d keep his mouth shut about the girlie color.  

Marti had spilled the beans, though, and the purple color made sense. The car was from his father; Jack had twisted his arm to make sure Pat had wheels to get him to and from college.  

Once he was aware, the color didn’t surprise him, but what was a slap in the face was his father hadn’t even bothered to attend the ceremony. In spite of the bad blood between them, Murphy Mulcahy was still Pat’s father. Pat was still his son. And God, this was a fucked up situation. 

He pushed thoughts of his father out of his mind. 

Right now the Stratus was parked on the street—he had that afternoon class—but when he left on Friday, he’d make sure it was parked in the driveway and take the minivan to the airport. The plan was to leave the minivan in the long term parking lot so they could come straight home. 

It had been a long time since he’d had a house to himself—not since he’d been living with his father—and Pat was looking forward to it. 

** 

Pat let himself into the house and checked the clock on the wall. He had a couple of hours until his class started, enough time to take Def for a walk, make some lunch, and take something out of the freezer for dinner.  

He whistled, and the yellow Lab came running into the kitchen, wagging his tail so hard his hind end quivered with his excitement. He nosed into all the corners, obviously searching for someone.  

“Are you looking for Elf? Ah, Def, you’re missing your boy?” 

Def woofed. 

“I’m sorry, Def. He’s gone to see his brothers and his nephew.” 

Dogs weren’t supposed to understand, but Def seemed to. He dropped down onto his belly, rested his chin on his paws, and looked up at Pat with mournful eyes. 

“Y’know what? I’ve got an idea!” 

That didn’t seem to impress Def, who just lay there. Pat raced up the stairs to Elf’s room, found what he was looking for, and raced back down. 

“Will this help?” He held up a Beanie Baby. Jill was a cool mom, and he didn’t think she’d get bent out of shape by a little dog slobber. But just in case, before he flew out on Friday, he’d drive to the mall and see about getting a replacement Beanie Baby 

Def’s tail began wagging again as he sniffed Banjo the Dog and then took the stuffed animal gently between his teeth.  

“Better?” 

Def’s woof was muffled by the Beanie Baby in his mouth. 

“Okay, then. Feel like going for a walk, boy?” 

Def went to the door and sat down. 

“Want to leave Banjo home?” The look Def gave him told him not in this lifetime. Pat laughed, found a plastic grocery bag he tucked into his jacket pocket, and then snapped the leash onto Def’s collar. “Okay, let’s go.” 

They had only gotten a few yards along the curb when Pat heard, “You! Young man! Stop right where you are!” Mrs. Herendon, the woman who lived next door, never seemed able to remember his name. 

Pat groaned under his breath. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with her. 

Def stood there looking interested, his ears pricked up and his tail wagging, but still holding onto the Beanie Baby.   “You could show a little good judgment,” Pat muttered.  

Then again, maybe Def had the right idea. You could catch more flies with honey, and it was possible that was all Mrs. Herendon needed. Before Pat had accepted his homosexuality, he’d had more girlfriends than you could shake the proverbial stick at. Although the relationships hadn’t lasted long, he’d treated the girls well—in spite of his reputation as a bad boy, he liked girls—and there were no hard feelings when they parted. 

He turned to face the woman who looked perpetually aggravated, a broad smile on his face. “Hi, Mrs. Herendon. How are you today?” 

“I’m—” 

“Can you believe it’s only a few days till Christmas?” 

“Excuse—” 

“And speaking of Christmas, wouldn’t it be nifty if we had a white one this year?” 

“I have no—” 

“Snow hasn’t been predicted, but then how often are the weathermen right?” 

She was beginning to look dazed. Cool. 

“It’s so nice to see you looking so well.” 

“Oh! I… er… I—” She fluffed her graying curls before frowning. “Don’t try to change the subject!” Apparently she’d recalled she had a bone to pick with him. Although what that bone might be he had no clue. He’d always made a point of staying as far away from her and her husband as he could.  

“Was there something I could help you with?” 

“It’s Patricia, Damien.” 

“Actually, I’d prefer it if you called me Pat.” How could she have heard the nickname he was trying so hard to live down? “What’s wrong?” 

“Have you seen her?” 

“I don’t go to Harvard, ma’am.” And even if he made the Dean’s list this semester and the next, there was no way he’d be able to transfer to Harvard.

Her frown tugged the corners of her mouth even farther down. “Are you trying to be facetious?” 

“No.” If he was being facetious, there’d be no question about it and she wouldn’t have to ask, but Pat was smart enough not to tell her that. “That’s where Patricia goes, yes? Well, as I said, I don’t go there, so unless she’s at home, it’s unlikely I’d see her during the academic year.” There was no way he was telling her the last time he’d seen Patricia had been at City Hall in August, when Wills’s boss had married her to her boyfriend. 

“I should never have permitted her to stay in the dorm.” Mrs. Herendon kept a tight leash on her daughter, even more so than her husband. 

“Why did you?” Pat wished he could live in the dorms on campus, but he couldn’t afford it. His grades had been mediocre to the degree even Jack tutoring him his junior and senior years couldn’t get him a scholarship. Even though he was eighteen now and no longer in the foster care system, the Mathesons continued to let him stay with them, not even charging him room and board. All the same, he worked any job he could find, just so he could give them something. 

“She promised she wouldn’t think about that young man anymore. I was so relieved, I agreed.” The way she twisted her hands looked painful. “Patricia had that… that unfortunate infatuation with William Matheson. She always lingered by the fence that separates the two yards.” 

 “Wills hasn’t lived here for a number of years—” 

“He returns to visit.” 

“—and besides, he’s married.” 

“If you could call it that.”  

“You can. It’s legal in Massachusetts.” 

“That’s neither here nor there,” she said impatiently. “The fact of the matter is he’s involved with another man.” 

“Doesn’t that solve your problem? I mean, you won’t have to worry that it’s Patricia.” 

That brought her up short, but only for a second. She got her second wind and frowned. “You don’t understand. She had her name and his inscribed all over her notebooks surrounded by pink and purple hearts. I’d hoped she’d outgrown that.”  

“Why do you think she hasn’t?” 

Mrs. Herendon folded her lips in a tight line and looked away. 

“Mrs. Herendon?” And why was Pat standing here bandying words with her? He was about to freeze his nuts off. “Ma’am, as much as I’d like to help you…” A bald-faced lie. “I’ve got class in an hour.” 

 “Damien—Pat.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Patricia calls every day and comes home on the weekend...” 

That didn’t sound like a fun married life for either her or her husband. 

“... but this past weekend she left a message on our answering machine saying she had plans and wasn’t coming home. Of course Hugh and I drove immediately to her dormitory, but she wasn’t there. According to her roommate, she hasn’t been there the entire semester. The last time her father and I saw her was nine days ago. I’ve been trying to contact her, but every call goes directly to her voicemail.” 

“Has she said anything about her—” Pat couldn’t use the H word. It seemed Mrs. Herendon was unaware her daughter had gotten married. “Her boyfriend?” 

“Patricia has a boyfriend? Since when? And how is it you know this and I don’t?” 

Well, it seemed he’d put his foot in it big time. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “It’s not my secret to tell.” 

She shivered and worried her lower lip. “Would you come inside? It’s too cold to stand out here, and I need to know what... what you know.” 

“Mrs. Herendon, I have to walk Def and feed the cats before I leave for class.” Shoot, he shouldn’t have mentioned the cats. They were a sore point between both families, since Mr.  Herendon’s dog had attacked Jasmine, the kitten that should have been Wills’s birthday present a couple of years ago. Princess Kimba and Jad-bal-Ja had attacked General Custer in turn, and the results were just all around nasty. 

Surprisingly, Mrs. Herendon ignored the opportunity to rain down hellfire on him. 

“Come by later, then. My husband is away and won’t be home until tomorrow. I… Patricia is all I’ve—we’ve—got.” 

Def started tugging on the leash. Oh, sure, now you want to leave. “All right, Mrs. Herendon. I should be home around four thirty.” 

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” A grateful Mrs. Herendon was disconcerting. “I’ll make dinner.”   

He was going to be there that long? He offered a weak smile and hoped she was a decent cook. 

III

As soon as Def finished visiting each tree that lined the curb and marking them to his satisfaction, Pat hurried him into the house.  

He stacked the books he’d need on the island in the kitchen, washed his hands, and made himself a bologna on rye sandwich slathered with Boar’s Head mustard. Then he called Wills. 

“Hi Pat.” Wills sounded tired. “No one’s here yet.” 

“Huh? Oh, no I realize it’s too early for their flight to have landed. I… uh… I had to talk to you.” 

“Oh? Is something going on?” 

“You could say so.” He explained about the situation with Patricia Herendon, and concluded with. “What do I tell her mother?” 

“Tell her the truth.” 

Pat could almost hear the shrug in Wills’s words, and he sighed. “Shooting the messenger much?” 

“Hey, this isn’t your problem. If Patricia is adult enough to get married, she’s adult enough to inform her parents of that fact.” 

He had a feeling it wasn’t a matter of being adult enough. “She had to agree to call her parents every night and come home on the weekends if she wanted to stay in the dorm.” 

“They held on to her so tightly. Jill and Dad always thought something like this might happen.” 

“Do you… uh… know where she is?” 

“Why would I know that? I’m not her husband.” 

But somehow Pat had the feeling that if Wills wanted to find her, he’d have no problem discovering her whereabouts. 

“I’m sorry, Pat. It was a bad night.” 

“Baby Bear?” 

“No, he’s fine. Theo had a minor meltdown.” Wills’s sigh was a gusty sound over the phone line. “His father did more damage than he ever realized when he threw Theo out.” 

“How is he now?” 

“Better.” 

“Do you think that will happen to me?” 

“What, a meltdown?” 

“Yeah.”
 

“It happens to most first-time fathers to one degree or another, but you’ve seen Dad with Elf. And if worst comes to worst, you’ve got family to back you up.” 

Oh God, that was.... Pat cleared his throat. He was getting choked up. “Thank you. I just…” He’d better change the subject. “I wish there was something I could tell Mrs. Herendon.” He waited for Wills to remind him his loyalty lay with his best friend and not with the family who was responsible not only for the death of the kitten, but for how distraught his beloved little sister had become. 

“You’re a good man, Pat.” 

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.” 

“Don’t I, Damien?” 

Pat knew Wills was teasing him, so he ignored his words. “That reminds me. Mrs. Herendon seemed to think my name is Damien.” 

Wills choked on his laughter. “She didn’t hear it from me. I haven’t seen her in a couple of years.” 

“Lucky you. This sucks.” 

“I assume you’re talking about having to speak with Mrs. Herendon about Patricia and not about her calling you Damien?” 

“Yeah.” Pat had earned that nickname long before he’d lost his virginity at the age of thirteen to an “older woman” who’d been all of fifteen.  

~~~ 

It embarrassed him now how he’d swaggered through the corridors of their school and bragged to his friends about bagging the babe. They’d all drooled over the details… all except JR, who’d simply shaken his head. But his disappointment in Pat hadn’t stopped JR from being his friend. No matter what he did, JR was always there for him. 

Even after Pat confessed to him that he thought he might be gay. 

He laughed dryly to himself. He’d said “might be,” but the fact of the matter was there hadn’t been any doubt.  

Yeah, who’d have thought Murph Mulcahy, the toughest man in the meatpacking plant where he worked, would have a fag for a son? And how could Pat have been so stupid as to leave his journal lying around? He’d written in graphic detail what he’d done with Andy Hancock—he’d known it wasn’t likely to happen again, and he’d wanted to remember it, to have something to jerk off to. He’d been so positive his father never went in his room.  

He’d been so wrong. 

What had Pat been thinking when he tracked JR down at school that day and told him why he was heading for DC? And was he really surprised when JR touched careful fingers to the bruise Pat’s father had left on his cheek and told Pat he was going with him? 

He’d been scared shitless after that incident a year and a half ago—he’d nearly gotten himself and JR arrested and sent to juvie. Maybe that was the kick in the ass he’d needed to straighten out his life. Jack Matheson, JR’s father, had had a talk with him on the flight home, but it was listening to Theo Bascopolis, JR’s brother’s lover, talk about what happened to some boys he knew that provided the real wakeup call for him. 

Pat recalled how tense Theo had been as he spoke of the boys who’d fallen prey to men who only wanted them for the money their bodies would bring in. He was as certain now as he had been then that Theo was one of those boys who’d had no choice but to sell his body to survive, but he’d gone along with Theo’s story, and he’d vowed to himself never to bring it up again. 

He’d been nervous when he got home, but his father hadn’t been drinking, which usually heralded the beatings that had grown increasingly more violent. It was the calm before the storm, though. Pat had been wakened out of a sound sleep by his father pounding his face and ribs with fists that felt like sledgehammers. And maybe the beating was the worst for his father being sober.   

What had Dickens said? “It was the worst of times; it was the best of times”? This time Pat had fought back, and although it had resulted in the broken arm that sent him to the ER, it eventually led to the Mathesons becoming his guardians. 

And if Murphy Mulcahy still lived in Cambridge, it was a total mystery to Pat, because since then he hadn’t seen his father, not even in passing. 

~~~ 

“Would you do me a favor?” Pat asked. 

“What do you need?” Wills’s words gave Pat a funny feeling in his chest. It had taken a long time for Wills to warm up to him, especially after Theo had gotten so upset when Pat had confessed his genius plan a year and a half ago was to find a man to keep him. But things were a lot better between them now. 

“Would you ask JR to call me about five? Mrs. Herendon said she’d make dinner, and I need an excuse to leave early.” 

“She’s not a bad cook.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Jill mentioned it. The church sponsored a breakfast for Mr. Gillette when he had to retire.” 

“I know him! He was my scoutmaster. JR’s too.” 

“Yes, and mine as well. He was a good man. He tried to teach me French when I was in middle school, but I had a problem with it.” 

William Matheson had a problem with anything? 

“Yes, there are some things I can’t do.”  

Pat was sure he hadn’t spoken out loud, but then he picked up on the amusement in Wills’s voice and realized Wills was pulling his leg. 

“Well, he taught me how to fence, and I was pretty good at it,” Pat retorted smugly, but then he sobered. “I was sorry he had to leave. He was the only teacher who didn’t see me as the Antichrist.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Does anyone know where he wound up?” 

“He mentioned having family in Gascony; I think he may have returned to France. Anyway, to get back to Mrs. Herendon. Jill said she made Dublin Coddle, and by the end of the breakfast, there was nothing left.”  

“Okay, so I guess I should be safe enough.” 

“I guess so.” 

Def sat beside him and laid his head on Pat’s knee, looking up at him again with mournful eyes, the Beanie Baby still in his mouth. “I’ve got to go before Def decides my lunch is fair game.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you on Christmas Eve.” 

“You bet. Tell everyone I said hi.” 

“I will. Take care, Pat.”  

“You too.” They hung up, and Pat scritched the yellow Lab between his brown eyes. “Sorry, Def. This is mine.” He picked up his sandwich and tucked into it.

IV 

Class was over for the day. There had been a pop quiz, but Pat was pretty sure he’d passed it. 

He’d walked Def again, fed him and the cats, and just in case things went south, as he’d heard Wills say on occasion, he took out a Tupperware container labeled spaghetti sauce. If he had to make a break for it, he had dinner, and if Mrs. Herendon actually fed him, he had tomorrow’s dinner. 

Now he stood before the Herendons’ front door without an excuse to put off ringing the bell.  

He pressed it, almost tempted to look around for the Avon lady as the chimes rang out ding dong. 

Mrs. Herendon parted the curtains of the window beside the door, and once she was sure it was him, she unlocked the door and opened it. “You should have come around through the back.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” 

“Well, it’s too late now. Get in before any of the neighbors see you.” 

“Mrs. Herendon, there really isn’t anything I can tell you.” 

She grabbed his arm, yanked him into the foyer, and slammed the door shut. “Now talk to me!”  

“Uh...”  

“Where is my daughter?”  

Pat backed away, although he couldn’t go far with the door behind him. He wasn’t sure, but her tongue might have been forked, and he was ready to swear she hissed. 

“When I get my hands on that wretched little ingrate, I’ll—” 

“Wait a minute. What happened to Patricia being all you have?” 

“That was before her father discovered she married some totally unacceptable riffraff!” 

Crap. “Was that why he was away from home?” 

“Where did you think he might be?” 

“Frankly, Mrs. Herendon, I don’t think about you or your husband or your daughter.” He could tell by the way she curled her fingers into talons that she didn’t like his tone of voice. 

“Where is she?” 

“Didn’t Mr. Herendon find her?” 

“No. He was able to learn she was married. At City Hall!” She began to wring her hands. “Oh the shame! No respectable man will want to marry her now.” 

“But she is married.” 

“No, she’s ruined!” 

Pat’s cell phone rang. Thank God! “I’m sorry, Mrs. Herendon, I have to take this call.” 

“You rude young man!”  

This is what I get for listening to a dog! Pat fumbled behind him for the doorknob. If this was a horror movie, it would be locked and he’d be stuck in this house with a crazy woman, and when they finally found him, he’d be curled up in a closet, a rotting ball of clothes and flesh. 

Fortunately, the knob turned sweetly, and he pulled the door open, slipped around it, and bolted down the steps to the relative safety of the sidewalk. Just in case Mrs. Herendon decided to come after him, though, he raced to the front porch of the Matheson house before he answered the phone. 

“Jar? You’re a lifesaver, bro! Whatever you want is yours!” 

“Nah, that’s okay. Wills told me you had to confront the Wicked Witch of the West. How’d that go?” 

“Wait until I lock the door.” Pat entered the house and made sure the door was locked. Then he went into the living room. The large windows looked out on the side lawn and the Herendons’ house beyond. There was no sign of anyone keeping watch through the curtains, so it seemed safe enough. “Well, it looks like the cat’s out of the bag. Mrs. Herendon knows Patricia is married, and she is not a happy camper!” 

“Who? Patricia?” 

“Don’t be a wiseass. I imagine she’s not thrilled, but I’m talking about her mother.” 

“Oh, wow, I miss all the good stuff.” 

Pat stared at his phone for a second, then said, “John Robert Matheson, you are one sick puppy.” 

JR just laughed. “I take it everything is okay now?” 

“Well, I’m home, the doors and windows are all secured, and Def is guarding the hallway into the living room.” 

“So everything is okay.” 

“Yeah,” Pat admitted grudgingly. 

“Awesome sauce!” Sometimes JR sounded just like his sister. 

“Awesome sauce?” 

“Yeah, because have I got some awesome news to share with you! Guess who was sitting beside the most beautiful girl on the jet?” 

“Your dad?” Pat couldn’t help smiling. He dropped down onto the couch. The two male Bobtails Jill had kept from Princess Kimba’s last litter hopped up and made themselves comfortable on either side of him. “Some random stranger?” 

“Ass. Just for that, I don’t think I’m going to tell you about the most fantastic experience of my young life.”  

“You’re no longer a virgin?” 

“Geez, Pat, you can be a real ass sometimes.” 

“I try.” He bit back a laugh. He could almost hear the blush in JR’s words. “So what’s Tory going to say about this wild and crazy experience of yours?” 

“Ah, come on, dude. You know Tory and I are a thing of the past.” 

“And Acacia?” 

“Long distance relationships are a killer.” JR had been entranced by Theo’s sister at the wedding. But she lived in Tarpon Springs in Florida.  

“You call a couple of dances at your brother’s wedding a relationship?” 

“It could have led to one.” 

“Seriously, dude?” Pat snorted. 

“Well, except for two stumbling blocks: I’m not Greek or Orthodox—” 

“Neither is your brother.” 

“No, but after what Theo’s parents did to him, I don’t think Wills would let them have any say in who Theo chooses to have in his life.”  

“What’s the second stumbling block? Or is this the third?” 

“You’re a laugh riot, Damien.” 

“Ouch!” 

“Hah. Anyway, the most crucial stumbling block is I wasn’t in love with Acacia.”  

“She is pretty.” 

“Excuse me, but aren’t you gay?” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a pretty woman.” 

“You’re an ass.”  

“And you’re becoming a player.” 

“You’re just jealous because you haven’t had a boyfriend since we graduated.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Pat! You’ve been holding out on your best bud?” 

He laughed and admitted, “No.” 

“Ah, dude....” 

“It’s okay, Jar.” Although it would have been nice to have someone to make out with. He did miss kissing, which was one of the reasons he’d had no trouble getting a girlfriend, but none of the guys he’d dated in high school were into that, and now.... “I need to concentrate on my studies.”  

“And you don’t mind me talking about this girl?” 

“Now who’s an ass?”  

“Okay! So listen to this!” 

Pat smiled and did just that as his best friend told the tale of the gorgeous redhead in 12B. 

** 

The next two days passed with Pat mostly making sure the Herendons weren’t lurking when he walked the dog or backed his Stratus out of the driveway in order to leave for class—Patricia still seemed to be successfully avoiding them, and for some reason they held him responsible. 

Geez, all he’d done was play the guitar while Jar and Marti harmonized “Isn’t It Romanic?/Wasn’t It Romantic” for Wills and Theo. It wasn’t as if he’d pronounced Patricia and the guy she’d married husband and wife. 

Pat had lucked out, though. He’d managed to avoid the Herendons as well.  

But finally Thursday arrived. His professor wrapped up the class with an evaluation form—Pat gave him high scores; he’d made the class—Introduction to Technical Drawing—interesting, even though it seemed Pat had two left hands.  

On the way home, Pat stopped first at the mall to get a gift card for Mr. Winchester, which Wills had suggested as a thank you from the family, a dry Beanie Baby to replace the one he’d given Def, and Hobo the dog, the Beanie Baby he found was born on Baby Bear’s birthday.  

Then it was on to Lou and Carlo’s Fine Meats to pick up two New York strip steaks and a pound of thick-sliced bacon. Lou, the butcher, happened to know Pat’s father and disliked him intensely, liked Pat, and cut the marbled steaks two inches thick. It was a good thing Jack had given him three twenties and a ten and told him to do them proud. They didn’t want Wills’s colleague to think they were cheap, did they? And while the butcher was busy carving the steaks and leaving enough fat to make them tasty, Pat visited the little grocery a few stores down and shopped for salad greens and baking potatoes, as well as sour cream, fresh chives, and shredded cheese, the ingredients he needed, along with the bacon, to make loaded baked potatoes. Mr. Winchester could have whatever bacon Pat didn’t use for his breakfast.  

Once the groceries were put away, the Beanie Babies wrapped and stored in his laptop case, and the gift card boxed and wrapped, Pat had one last thing to do: swap parking spaces for the minivan and the Stratus, so he could back the minivan out as soon as he was ready to go in the morning.  

And he made it without being waylaid by the Herendons. 

** 

Pat was in the kitchen rinsing the salad greens while strips of bacon fried in the skillet on the cook top. The table in the dining room was set, the potatoes were in the oven, and everything else was prepared to stuff the potato skins once they were ready.   

He hummed the children’s medley he planned to play on his guitar for Baby Bear’s dedication ceremony. They worked pretty well, he thought. He’d practice after dinner, just to be certain. 

A glance up at the clock on the wall told him it was almost six. He’d put the steaks in the broiler once Mr. Winchester arrived. 

Just as he put the salad in the colander to drain, the front doorbell rang. He grabbed a towel to dry his hands and hurried to make sure it was Wills’s colleague. 

Wills had sent him an email earlier with a jpeg attachment. 

This is what Winchester looks like. Don’t open the door for anyone else. Paranoid much? But Pat wasn’t going to repay the family that had literally saved his life by doing something stupid like letting a stranger into the house. And yes, if the Herendons come over demanding Patricia’s whereabouts, you can tell them you’re not permitted to let anyone in. 

Winchester can have my room. Dad and Jill are taking my word about his character, but I know they’ll be more comfortable knowing all the other bedroom doors are locked. Don’t worry about him challenging you about the locked doors. He’s a smart man, and if he admits he knows they were locked, he’ll also have to admit how he knows that. 

Winchester is straight, but he’s not a homophobe. You shouldn’t have to worry about staying in the house with him overnight, but if you get nervous, take Def into your room with you. Winchester doesn’t need to know Def is a mush. 

Pat had opened the attachment. Too bad about Mr. Winchester being straight. He’s a good-looking man. 

Now Pat peeked through the peephole. Def was at his heel, his ears pricked with interest. “The least you could do is look intimidating,” Pat muttered. To put on a show, he gripped the Lab’s collar, then opened the door. “Mr. Winchester?” 

“Yes, but please, call me Winchester.” Hanging over his left shoulder was a laptop case, and at his side was a pilot case. 

“Uh…” 

“Or Kyle.” He smiled and offered his hand. And he’s even better-looking in person!  

“Young man!” 

“Oh, crap!” Pat grabbed Kyle’s arm and yanked him into the house. He poked his head out the door. “Hi, Mrs. Herendon. I still don’t know where Patricia is! Sorry. Merry Christmas!” He shut the door and threw the lock. “Sorry about that.” He turned toward Kyle. 

Kyle was about Pat’s height, a little under six feet. He had red hair and violet eyes that could rival Elizabeth Taylor’s, but just then there was a hard look on his face, and he was reaching for something in his suit jacket. 

“I thought this was a quiet neighborhood.”  

“It usually is. Except for our neighbors.” 

Kyle shook his head and looked down at Def, who stood there holding the Beanie Baby in his mouth. “Who’s this handsome boy?” 

“This is Def. Def, this is Kyle; he’s a friend.” Pat took Kyle’s hand. “Let him become familiar with your scent.” He grinned. “If we don’t assure him a visitor is safe, he’s inclined to tear them apart.” 

“Really?” Kyle held his palm out to the dog, then scratched his chin. Def dropped the Beanie Baby and gave a doggy grin, whipping his tail back and forth in pleasure.  

Thanks a lot, killer. At least Kyle had the courtesy not to let his amusement show. 

“Come on. I’ll show you your room.” 

“Is it all right if I leave my laptop down here?” 

“I’m sorry. Sure, that’ll be fine.” 

Kyle propped the case against the wall, picked up his suitcase, which he’d dropped when Pat unceremoniously dragged him into the house to escape Mrs. Herendon, and followed him up to the second floor. Def trotted up the stairs after them. 

“Wills doesn’t have an attached bathroom, but it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump down the hall.” Pat pointed it out. “This was Wills’s bedroom.” He opened the door and stepped aside so Kyle could enter. 

“Is Mr. Matheson going to object to me sleeping in this room? I mean, I could sleep on the couch. Or the floor if you have a sleeping bag.” 

“It’s not Jack’s… oh, you mean Wills. Nah, he’s cool with it. Since he moved down to DC, this room gets used for guests whenever family comes to visit.” 

“I’m not family.” 

“No, but you’re a guest.” 

Kyle walked in and looked around. “It’s nice.” 

“Jill—Wills’s stepmom—did the decorating.” The posters of rock bands and Star Wars were gone, replaced by Gainsborough and Lawrence prints. Wills hadn’t slept in the room since the grand renovation a couple of summers ago, when Jill had gone on a decorating spree just before she’d given birth, and Pat wondered what he thought of the change. “Well, I’ll leave you to unpack and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready whenever you are. Just come on down. After dinner I’ll introduce you to the cats.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Kyle put his suitcase on the bed and opened it. 

“There’s room in the dresser and the closet.” 

“Okay, thanks.” 

“How do you like your steak?” 

“Rare, please.” 

“Okay, then. Come on, Def.” 

V 

“I have to say, I didn’t expect this when Mr. Matheson told me you’d give me dinner.” Kyle sliced into his steak. “Oh my God, this cuts like butter.” 

“Yeah. I can’t take any credit for that, though. The butcher we use is amazing.” 

“He certainly is.” For a while there was silence as they ate, interrupted by the appreciative noises Kyle made. “I haven’t eaten like this in... God, I can’t remember when.” 

“Thank you, kind sir.” Pat realized he was close to flirting with a straight man, and the last thing he wanted was to make him uncomfortable. He grinned at Kyle. “So how did you get stuck house sitting for Wills?” 

“I don’t consider it being stuck. I had nothing else to do, so I was glad to help him out.” Kyle peered at Pat through his lashes. “And I get paid for it.” 

“Well, I would hope so!” They both laughed. “But don’t you have family to spend Christmas with?” 

“Not really. I have one sister, but she’s out in LA. I lived with her until I was eighteen, and then her husband told me to find someplace else to live.” His expression became sad. “I haven’t seen Cherrie in almost seven years.” 

“There are flights leaving every day.” 

“Her husband thinks I’m gay.”  

Pat waved that nonsense away, inadvertently sending a small piece of steak flying off his fork to bounce and skid across the floor. “Listen: I’m gay, and you don’t ping my gaydar at all.” 

“Uh... the steak?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Def!” The dog, the Beanie Baby between his front legs, had been lying in front of Jill’s breakfront, looking hopeful. Jack had taught him to stay put until he was given the word to move. “Get it, boy!” 

Def bounded to his feet and made a beeline for it. 

“See?” Pat grinned. “Okay, down, Def.” The Lab returned to his place by the breakfront but stayed alert. “Good boy.” Pat chose another piece of steak for himself and resumed the conversation. “Look, Kyle, Wills says you’re straight.” 

“I am, but I don’t know how other people perceive me.” Kyle buttered a slice of bread. “I was skinny and scrawny when I was a teen.” 

“Well, you’re not anymore.” 

“If I wanted to join the WBIS, I had to bulk up.” 

“What’s the WBIS?” 

Kyle reached for the beer Pat had put out for him and almost knocked it over before he got a grip on the glass and raised it to his lips. Was he using that as an excuse not to respond? Pat had no clue why this subject would upset Kyle, but he was a good host—he’d learned from watching Jack Matheson—so he determined to drop the subject. 

“Nev—” 

Kyle gulped down about half the glass, then seemed to pull himself together as he gave Pat a cool smile. “It’s the company I was looking into before I changed my mind and went with Huntingdon. How did you wind up here the day before Christmas Eve?”  

Pat let him change the subject. “My semester didn’t finish until today, so I volunteered to stay home. I owe the Mathesons a lot, Kyle, and I’ll help however I can.” He drew a random pattern on the tablecloth beside his plate. “My father wasn’t happy when he found out I was gay.” 

“Ah, dude, that sucks.” 

“Actually, it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. The Mathesons took me in. They’re good people.” Probably better than he deserved, considering his reputation when he was younger. And maybe it was time he changed the subject. “So you had no one else to spend Christmas with?” 

“No. I’d hoped my girlfriend would ask me to go with her when she went home for the holiday, but....” 

“She didn’t?” 

“No. I kind of hinted around, but she didn’t seem to get what I was driving at, so I shut up. And I’m sorry. I must be boring you.” 

“Nope, although I’d be more interested if you were talking about your boyfriend. For future reference.” Pat winked, and as he hoped, Kyle started to laugh. “Seriously, dude. Why don’t we finish dinner? I’ve got an amazing dessert waiting in the wings.” 

“Works for me. This whole dinner has been amazing. How old are you anyway?” 

“Eighteen.” His birthday had been this past November.  

“I can’t believe you did all this. When I was eighteen my expertise ran to making mac and cheese, and I was lucky if I didn’t burn the mac. Even today, my culinary talents are confined to toast or cereal for breakfast and frozen dinners for supper.”  

“I’ve got some recipes I’ll print out for you. Baked potatoes, salad, and steak are pretty simple. Maybe that’s what you need to win your girl.” 

Kyle looked thoughtful. “That’s an idea.” 

“I’ve been known to have ’em.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Would you mind telling me what you put in these potatoes?” 

“Sure.” And the rest of the meal was spent discussing food. 

** 

They cleared off the table and loaded the dishwasher. Pat would turn it on after they’d finished dessert. He wanted to make sure Kyle didn’t have too many mundane household tasks to do. 

Pat turned the oven dial to preheat, and Kyle sat on the floor and became acquainted with the cats. 

“They’re so friendly!” He seemed charmed by the younger cats’ actions as they stalked and attacked his shoelaces. Pat had to chuckle himself. 

“That’s a characteristic of the breed,” he said. 

“I wish I could have one.” Kyle ruffled Lazarus Long’s ears, and he butted Kyle’s palm with his head. “My apartment building doesn’t permit pets, though.” 

“That’s too bad. Before my mom passed away, we had this little black puppy with white paws and the softest fur. God, I loved her. I named her Sugarfoot. My dad said we couldn’t keep her after Mom got sick, so he took her to the Humane Society.”  

Pat had pitched a fit when he realized his puppy was gone. That was the first time Murphy Mulcahy had struck him.  Stop this nonsense, he’d hissed as he grabbed Pat’s arm and shook him until he’d almost gotten whiplash. Do you realize how sick your mother is? The last thing we need in this house is a distraction. 

Even after all this time, Pat could almost feel his father’s nails digging into his biceps; he pushed the memory down deep. “Once I’m on my own, I’d love a kitten.  Princess Kimba and Jad-bal-Ja are retired, both from breeding and from being shown, but Jill’s showing the two males, and they’re winning ribbons right and left. She’s got breeders lined up. Maybe she’ll get a new female and let me buy a kitten from that litter.” 

“She won’t give you one?” 

“Oh, yes. But it’s only polite to offer to pay.” 

Kyle grinned, and Pat stepped behind the island to hide his erection. Damn. It had been a while since a hand other than his own had touched his dick. Oh, sure, he’d hooked up with a few guys, but that was all they were: hookups.  

Why did the dude have to be straight? 

“Introduce me to the cats, please.” 

“The seal lynx point is Princess Kimba, the momma. The golden boy is Jad-bal-Ja, the daddy. The other two are from their last litter of kittens. The fawn with chocolate rosettes is Lazarus Long, and the gray tiger is Valentine Michael Smith.” Pat smiled as he assembled the ingredients he’d need for the version of Baked Alaska he planned to make. He’d gotten the recipe from another member of the community college’s Gay-Straight Alliance, and he wouldn’t have to set the kitchen on fire to make an impression. “Wills’s brother insisted it was his turn to name the kittens, and he’s a big fan of Robert Heinlein.” 

“Yeah?” Kyle encouraged the younger cats to climb onto his lap.  “I’d have named the gray tiger Woodrow Wilson Smith.” 

“Lazarus Long’s alter ego?”  

“You’re familiar with Robert Heinlein?” 

“You don’t have to sound so surprised, but yes, with a best friend like JR, I couldn’t be anything else. And I could say the same about you.” 

“Yeah.” Kyle looked up at him, smiling.  

He cleared his throat. “Okay, now this is just going to take a little while.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Kyle’s smile deepened, revealing a dimple in the left corner of his mouth, and this time Pat almost swallowed his tongue.  

He sighed. What a waste.  

Well, no point in wishing for what he couldn’t have. He whipped up the meringue, took the ice cream sandwiches—brownies cut in two and filled with raspberry sorbet—he’d prepared earlier from the freezer, and placed them on a sheet pan. Then he frosted them with the meringue and slid the pan into the oven.  

Four minutes later, they came out. He placed the sandwiches on plates and garnished them with fresh raspberries and a sprig of mint. 

Kyle rose and washed his hands. 

“Here you go.” He handed Kyle a plate, took his own, and gestured for Kyle to take the lead back to the dining room. 

“You know, Pat, I was thinking.” Kyle took a spoonful of the dessert, tasted it, and closed his eyes in obvious bliss. “I’ve said it before, but you’re an amazing cook! Will you marry me?” 

Pat choked and turned red, and Kyle’s color went high as well. 

“I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing for me to say.” 

“It’s okay, Kyle. We all know the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” He gave himself a couple of seconds to get himself under control. “I’m glad you’re enjoying my Baked Alaska.” He took a few bites of his dessert, then asked, “So… What were you thinking?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I can drive you to the airport tomorrow in my rental.” 

“But—” 

Kyle held up his spoon, interrupting him. “And I can pick everyone up in the minivan on Monday. It’ll save you paying for the parking.” 

That wasn’t an issue. Jack would take care of it when he got home. But Pat really hated driving in the airport. He got white-knuckled and had to tighten his sphincter so he wouldn’t crap his pants. It was embarrassing, especially for someone with his badass reputation, but there was just something about Logan that got to him. Fortunately he didn’t have to do it often.   

“You don’t mind?” 

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I did.” 

“Cool. Thank you.” It looked like he wouldn’t have to do it tomorrow.  

** 

After they’d rinsed off the dessert plates and put them in the dishwasher, they’d gone into the living room. The cats and Def followed them in and made themselves comfortable around the fireplace.  

“Do you want a fire?” Pat asked. 

“We can have a fire?” Kyle looked intrigued.  

“Sure we can.” Pat flipped a switch. There was a woosh, and then the flames flickered and the logs began to glow. 

“Wait, don’t you need a match?” 

“Not for this one. It’s gas.” 

“Remember, I’m a California boy. We didn’t have fireplaces in my family.” 

“Well, to tell the truth, neither did I until the Mathesons took me in.” He crossed to the front of the room where the live Christmas tree stood before the bay window. The family had taken some of the presents to DC, but most of them—the bulky ones—were under the tree, waiting for the family to return to open them. 

Pat plugged in the tree lights. “You’ll have to make sure the tree has enough water. Don’t let it go dry.” 

“Yes, boss.” Kyle smiled at him. “Is it okay if I do a little work?” 

“That’s fine with me.” Pat watched as Kyle took out his computer, put it on the coffee table, and turned it on. 

He was a computer troubleshooter, just like Wills, and Pat wished he’d known that sooner. He could have bought him a set of tools for Christmas. Or a two hundred fifty-six megabyte thumb drive.  

“Will it disturb you if I play?” Pat gestured toward his guitar, which was on its stand in the corner. He’d put it in its case before he went to bed. 

“You play? I’d love to hear you.” 

Pat felt heat rise in his cheeks. He got the Gibson and sat down on the other end of the couch. “This is for the ceremony on Sunday,” he said as he removed the pick from the strings at the top of the neck. 

Kyle nodded. Instead of turning his attention to his computer, he made himself comfortable, waiting for Pat to start. 

He began with ABBA’s “Slipping Through My Fingers,” and then went on to “Turn Around,” “All Through the Night,” “What a Wonderful World,” and “Teddy Bear’s Picnic,” ending with “Going Home.” 

When he finished, Pat worried his lower lip. “I don’t know about the order....” He looked across at Kyle, startled to see his eyes shiny with tears. “What’s wrong?” 

“You’ve got magic fingers.” Kyle turned his head to stare at the screen and cleared his throat. “That was beautiful. I wish—”  

The yellow Lab came to Pat and nudged his knee, distracting him from what Kyle might have said. “Looks like Def needs to go for a walk. Want to go with me?” 

“Sure.” The corner of Kyle’s mouth curled up in a grin. “Someone’s got to protect you from the harridan next door.” 

“You’re a laugh riot, Winchester. Let’s go. I’ve got a spare sweat jacket. You can wear that.” 

“You’re too kind.” 

“Damn straight.” Pat went to the coat closet, took out a gray hoodie with the local community college logo on it, and handed it to Kyle, pleased when it fit. He pulled on the pea jacket he’d claimed when Jack and JR both denied ownership. They still didn’t know how it had come to be in the closet. “Come on. Def’s leash is in the kitchen, and I’ll show you where we keep the plastic bags.” 

“Plastic bags?” 

Pat grinned at him. “Dogs don’t pick up after themselves. This is what they have humans for.” 

Kyle reached out and ruffled his hair. 

He’s straight. Pat continued the mantra as he led the way to the kitchen. He’s straight. 

**

After they’d returned from Def’s walk—fortunately without running into either of the Herendons—they hung up their jackets and returned to the living room. 

 “This really is a nice neighborhood,” Kyle said as the cats playfully attacked his ankles and he stooped to fondle their ears. 

“It is. Would you like a cup of coffee, Kyle?” 

Kyle smiled up at him. “If it’s not too much trouble?” 

“No trouble at all.” 

“I never used to drink it much, but this company I work for... I bet they own half of Brazil.” 

Pat laughed and went back into the kitchen. Kyle was really a nice guy, even if he was straight. He’d burn Kyle a CD of his own music for Christmas. He had everything he needed in his room, and he’d be too tense to fall asleep right away anyway. He had the files in his laptop, including the songs JR and Marti had sung last August when Wills and Theo got married for the second time. All he had to do was put on his headset, insert a CD, and burn them. 

He’d just have to make sure Kyle didn’t see him take a sheet of Christmas wrapping paper up to bed. 

And he’d leave the CD and the gift card from Wills on the kitchen island where Kyle could see them when he returned from dropping him off at the airport. 

Maybe he’d leave a big notice: Do Not Open Until Christmas. Never mind Big Brother—Santa is Watching! 

Now, what other songs did he want to include? While he waited for the coffee to brew, he gave it some thought. 

VI

The drive to the airport was quiet, other than the Christmas music that filled the interior of Kyle’s rental. Pat kept stealing glances at the man who sat in the driver’s seat. 

Kyle’s hair was a dark mahogany that looked brown until the light hit it, and then its true color—a deep, rich red—was revealed. Wills was a sucker for red hair, but he’d found his redhead in Theo. Pat didn’t care about hair color; his weakness was curls, and Kyle had them in abundance, a lush carpet of them covering his scalp. Pat found his fingers twitching with the urge to discover their texture.  

He sat on his hands and turned his head to stare out the passenger window.  

Kyle pulled up to the curb outside Departures. “Let me have your cell phone. I’ll put my number in it, in case you need to call about anything,” he said. 

“You’re not afraid the gay boy will stalk you?” He took his phone out of his pocket and gave it to him. Wills probably had Kyle’s number, but Pat wasn’t going to let the opportunity to have it in his phone pass him by. 

Kyle smiled. “I can deal if the gay boy is you.” Was he flirting with him?  

“Well, let me have your phone, and I’ll put my number in it too.” Pat waited to see what he’d say. 

“No, that’s okay.” Before Pat could feel letdown, Kyle continued. “My phone’s kind of tricky. Let me get this done, and then you can give me your number and I’ll put it in myself.”  

Pat watched as Kyle’s fingers flew over the number pad. It only took Kyle a few seconds to enter his phone number, save it, and give the phone back to him. 

“Your number?” 

“Huh? Oh.” Pat shook himself out of his reverie. He’d never seen a phone like Kyle’s before. “Okay.” He recited his number, and again watched as long, agile fingers danced over the front of the phone. 

Once he had it saved to his contacts, Kyle replaced the phone in his pocket and reached across the console to shake Pat’s hand.  

“Thanks again for those recipes, Pat.” Kyle’s hand was warm and slightly calloused. 

“You’re welcome.” Pat had printed them out after they’d returned from walking the dog. “Thanks for driving me to the airport, Kyle.” 

“You’re welcome.” Once again the corner of Kyle’s mouth tilted up in a grin. “Merry Christmas.”  

“Merry Christmas.” Pat got out of the rental and opened the passenger door to get his guitar case. His Gibson was something he’d never store in the trunk.  

He closed the door and walked to the rear of the car. Kyle released the trunk latch, and Pat raised the lid and removed his suitcase and laptop case. He closed the trunk and waved to Kyle.  

Kyle put the car in gear and drove off, smiling in the rearview mirror and giving a final, backward wave. 

Pat slung his guitar case across his back, looped the strap of his laptop case over his shoulder, and gripped the telescoping handle of his suitcase. Then he pushed thoughts of Kyle Winchester, straight man, from his mind. He still had to check his suitcase, go through security, and get to Terminal B. 

He walked into the concourse.  

** 

Logan was jammed with holiday travelers.  

In spite of what a nightmare going through Security had been, Pat smiled. He didn’t have much religion, but he loved Christmas in all its many facets—the trees, the ornaments, the stores’ decorations… and the kids who became giddy over the same things he enjoyed. 

Now as he made his way to the waiting area of the US Airways terminal, Pat dodged a group of those kids, who couldn’t have been more than five or six.  

Yeah, he loved the holiday season. He especially loved that he wouldn’t have to spend another one ever with his father. 

Pat finally found a seat, propped the guitar case next to him, and opened his laptop case—he’d checked his suitcase. He moved aside the little gifts he’d bought for Baby Bear and Elf and took out a book on plumbing. He might as well get some studying done. He set the case between his feet so no one would trip over it.

Uncle Jake had let him borrow the book, Plumbing for Idiots—okay, no, not really the title—when Pat had asked if he could work with him over the summer vacation. 

Jake wasn’t really his uncle, any more than the Mathesons were really his family, but he treated him like one of his nephews, who’d all had experience on the jobs Jake contracted to do. How difficult could it be to plumb a bathroom?  

He opened to the first page and began reading. 

The sound of someone ralphing brought Pat’s attention from the words on the page. Well, this is an accident waiting to happen, he thought as he watched a harried young mother scoop up the wailing child who’d just projectile-vomited all over the floor and head for the ladies room. 

He shoved the book back into his laptop case, slung it over his shoulder, grabbed the handle of his guitar case, and rose, looking for a janitor or someone from airport maintenance who could deal with the mess. Otherwise, an unfortunate traveler was going to step in it and wind up sliding across the floor on his ass. 

No janitor was around, but sure enough, here came a guy who was going to take a header if he kept on in the direction he was going. 

Pat raced to make an interception. 

“Hold on there, buddy!” He got his arm around the guy’s waist and swung him to the side, grimacing at the pain that sliced through his arm. It was the one his father had broken, and although it had healed, there were still days, like this one with the windchill making it feel like it was ten below, when it ached. The added pressure hadn’t helped. 

“What?” 

“You don’t want to step in that.” 

“In wha… Ah, shit.” 

“No, vomit.” 

“Ha freaking ha. Sorry.” He smiled ruefully, and his expression was so cute that Pat couldn’t help smiling back. “Y’know, I always watch where I’m walking, and the three times I don’t, I step on rotten fruit, a dead bird, or—very nearly—that.” He shuddered and gestured to the puddle of vomit.  

“Bummer.” 

“Tell me about it. Thanks, dude.” 

“You’re welcome.” Pat realized he still had his arm around him. “Sorry.” He let him go. 

The guy tilted his head to one side, and Pat was mesmerized by the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. He was a couple of inches taller than Pat’s five foot eleven, and maybe a couple or three years older. There was something about him that niggled at his memory, but he couldn’t seem to get a hold on it.  

He held out his hand. “I’m Pat.”  

“Kit. Short for Christopher.” His grip was warm, but unlike Kyle’s, his palm was smooth. 

Enough! Pat ordered his wayward thoughts. You are not going to moon over a straight man. Pay attention to this hottie. He just might be gay. Unlike Kyle Winchester.  

“What time is your flight?” 

“Not for another hour, Kit short for Christopher.” Pat gestured at the mob milling around. “I thought it would be a good idea to get here early.” 

“Yeah? Me too. Uh… about getting here early.” 

A maintenance man approached, pushing a mop bucket and holding a couple of folding caution signs that were bright yellow. He looked at the mess on the tiled floor, shook his head, and then set up the signs, wrung out the mop, and began cleaning it up. 

“We’d better give the man some room.” 

 “Good idea. The smell is becoming a little overpowering.” 

“Just a little? It’s a good thing I’ve got a cast iron stomach, or I’d be adding to that mess.” 

“Ugh! Uh… would you have a cup of coffee with me?” Kit asked. “There’s a Dunkin Donuts just over there.” 

“It’s not necessary, but…” 

“It’s the least I can do to say thank you.” 

“I’d like that.”  

“So, where are you heading?” Kit asked as they walked toward the Dunkin Donuts counter.  

“I’m on my way to DC.” 

“Yeah? Me too!” 

“Small world, isn’t it? My... brother and his husband are hosting the Christmas party this year.” 

“You mean your brother and his wife.” 

“No, his husband.” 

“Your brother is gay?” 

“Yeah.” Okay, this was as good a time as any to test the waters. “So am I. Is that a problem?” Pat tightened his grip on his cases and prepared to walk away.                                                    

“No! No.” Kit lowered his voice. “I… uh…” 

“If you say some of your best friends are gay, I’m leaving.” 

Kit bit his lower lip and then gave him a shy grin. “I was going to say think I might be too.” 

“Yeah? Awesome sauce!” 

“Really?” 

“Sure.” 

Kit looked relieved. “What would you like?” 

You? Pat realized they were at the Dunkin Donuts counter and cleared his throat. “Uh…the Peppermint Mocha latte? It’ll be Christmas tomorrow.” 

“I think I’ll have the same.” Kit grinned at him and turned to the barista. “Two Peppermint Mocha lattes, please.” He rested his fingers—not quite as long as Kyle’s… Pat gave himself a shake. Kit pulled his fingers from the back of Pat’s hand as if he’d been burned. “Is something wrong?” 

“No.” Pat smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay. I was going to ask if you minded if I bought these coffees?” 

“I don’t mind. I’ll get the next ones.” 

Kit flushed. 

“If that’s okay?” 

He gave Pat a brilliant smile, and Pat fell a little in love with him. Kyle? Who’s he? “That’s fine!” 

** 

They found a spot to sit and made themselves comfortable. “So how come you’re going to DC at Christmas?” Pat asked. 

“I have to see my cousin. He’s gay. Although maybe not. I... uh... I’m so confused. I... I always thought I was straight. I even have a girlfriend—had a girlfriend.” 

Pat couldn’t help laughing, but he quickly sobered at the hurt look on Kit’s face. “No, I’m not laughing at you, Kit. It’s just that sounds familiar. You want to talk about it? Once we leave here, we’ll never run into each other again, and it won’t matter what we’ve said.” 

“You’re right, I guess.” 

“Damn straight I’m right.” 

Kit worried his lip for a minute, then nodded as if making up his mind. “Okay, then. Here goes. About two and a half years ago, I met my cousin at a family funeral. No one in the family liked him, except for my dad. In fact, all my brothers gave him a really hard time. Not that he cared. He gave them just as hard a time right back. The thing was, I thought he had nice eyes, and he must have heard me say so. Sometimes, my mouth has no filter.” He sighed and seemed to consider that, then sighed again and continued. “I ran into him down in the men’s room of the funeral home, and he did what I thought at the time was the weirdest thing. He looked into all the stalls, to make sure they were empty, I guess. Then he held out a business card. ‘If anyone ever hassles you about being gay, call this number.’ I tried to tell him I didn’t swing that way, but I guess there must be something about me that says fabulous.” 

Pat couldn’t help himself. “But you are, Blanche, you are!” 

For a second Kit looked nonplussed, but then he burst into laughter. “Touché!” He raised his latte to his mouth and took a few more sips, and Pat watched as his throat rippled with each swallow. 

You’re not going to ask him if he’d like to visit the men’s room! he admonished himself. “So what happened next?” 

“I tried to back away from him—I want to tell you, he’s one intimidating dude!—but all he did was tuck the card in my shirt pocket and walk out. I was certain he was wrong. I mean, I had a girlfriend. Besides, none of the boys I knew were gay.”  

“That you knew of.” 

“No, you’re right.” Kit flushed and looked down. “Uh... how did you know?” 

“What, that I like guys?” He rotated the latte between his palms, stopping when the heat became too uncomfortable. Yeah they’d never see each other again, but no way was he going to spill his guts about the fool he’d made of himself over Andy Hancock. “I kept imagining it was one of the guys in my homeroom class when I was screwing my current girlfriend.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Well, that was pretty much the truth. But if he hadn’t fallen into lust with the four-eyed geek who wore his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show some chest hair, whose muscles were sleek and tempting to the touch—he and Andy had gym together, and while Pat was on the baseball team, Andy ran track in those little shorts. If none of that had happened, Pat would still be safely in that closet, getting his clock cleaned on a regular basis by the latest in a long string of girlfriends. “And then one day I couldn’t stand it anymore. I propositioned him.” And it had taken a lot of talking to convince Andy that he was serious and not aiming for another notch on his bedpost. As it turned out, Andy hadn’t believed him. He’d fucked him and forgotten him, and a year and a half later it still hurt. 

“Yeah?” Kit seemed almost breathless.  “What happened?” 

“He accepted and after class he took me back to his house.” Pat stared into his latte.  

“Did he hurt you?” 

“Yeah.” After Andy had come, he’d pulled out of Pat and told him he’d got what he wanted—to get out. “He said if I even looked at him at school, he’d out me.”  

“The son of a bitch!” The woman at the next table glared at him and gathered her small child in her arms, and he grimaced. “Sorry.” He turned back to Pat. “No, I meant did he hurt you physically? It seems like an awfully small opening to put something so big.” 

“Physically I was fine. Tab A into slot B, Kit. It all works.”  

“Maybe you’re right,” Kit conceded, and they both fell silent.  

And that was the last time… Oh, sure, there had been mutual hand jobs and blow jobs, but that betrayal ran deep, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to get past it. 

“So what made you think your cousin might be right?” Pat finally asked. 

“My girlfriend complained I must have ED.”

“Excuse me?” The only ED Pat knew of was the emergency department of George Washington Hospital in DC, where Wills had met Theo. 

Kit looked uncomfortable, but he leaned close to whisper, “Erectile dysfunction.” 

Pat felt his jaw drop. “That’s an old man’s problem.” 

“Whatever. The thing was, I could get it up, but I couldn’t keep it up. I’d wind up having to go down on her or use a vibrator.” 

“There’s much to be said for vibrators and blow jobs.” 

“You use a… Where?”  

Pat raised an eyebrow, and Kit’s eyes widened as he realized where.  

“I’ve never….” He didn’t seem to know where to look. 

“You start small, and work your way up.” Pat reached across the table and patted his hand. “You’ve got time. And you thought that meant you were gay? Dude, it could have been her not ringing your chimes.” 

“I know, but I couldn’t tell my girlfriend that. Especially not after—I mean we’d been together since seventh grade, and… well, I just couldn’t.”   

That was why Pat had gone from one girl to the next. They never got close enough to carve out his heart with a spork. “So did you talk to anyone about this, except for your cousin who may or may not be gay?” 

“He has a name, you know.” 

Pat held his hand up. “The first thing you learn from the gay handbook is you never out someone.” 

“There’s a gay handbook?” 

Pat laughed and couldn’t resist touching the back of Kit’s hand again. “I was kidding. Although I was also being serious.” 

The sound coming out of Kit’s mouth was almost a giggle. “I think you need another latte.” He shook his head, and long, dark brown hair feathered over his face, an action that had Pat longing to tuck it back behind Kit’s ears. Not curls like Kyle had, but enough waves that Pat wouldn’t mind running his fingers through them. “I think I do too.” 

“This one’s on me, remember? Do you want another Peppermint, or would you prefer something else?” 

“Another Peppermint will be fine.” 

Pat shoved back his chair and hurried to the counter. Was Kit local? Was Logan a stopover? He had to find out. And he had to get Kit’s phone number. 

He ordered and paid for the second round of lattes, and made his way back to the table where Kit was sitting… 

And the expression on his face was so sad, Pat wanted to cuddle him.  “Is it that bad, bud?” He placed Kit’s latte before him and sat down. 

“Thanks.” Kit took the latte. “Yeah. I think so.”  

“Tell Uncle Patrick all about it.”  

Kit hunched a shoulder. “Jason—he’s my oldest brother—he found something in my room.” 

“Locks, dude. They’re our friend. So what did he find?” 

“Um...” Kit’s cheeks had flushed a dark red. 

“C’mon. Spill the beans. What was it? Movies? Magazines? Books? Toys?”  

“What do you know about toys?” Kit mumbled. Pat didn’t think Kit’s cheeks could get any redder. 

“I’ve got a computer, dude.” 

“It wasn’t any of those things. It... uh... it was on my computer. A website.” 

And there were some kinky ones out there.  

“Oh, God, he was so pissed. He... he yelled at me.” The poor guy looked miserable. Being an only child, Pat had never run into the problem of squabbling with a sibling, but it was obvious Kit was devastated by his brother’s disapproval. 

“What did your brother say?” 

“‘No brother of mine will be gay.’” 

“I’m sorry.” Pat reached across and squeezed his shoulder. 

“So am I.” 

“If it’s any consolation, my father said the same thing just before he beat the living shit out of me.” 

“What did you do?” Kit’s eyes were enormous. 

“I went to the emergency room, and then my best friend’s family took me in.” 

“Wow, talk about serious suckage.” 

“Yeah. So you decided to go see your cousin?” 

“I needed to talk to someone who would listen.” He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip, and then set it down. “It was kind of spur of the moment—I threw some things into a carry-on and booked the first available flight. My cousin doesn’t even know I’m coming. I hope he’ll let me stay with him.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” 

“I’ll stay at a hotel.” 

“I don’t want to rain on your parade, dude, but do you honestly think there will be room at the inn at Christmas?” 

“A motel?” Kit sighed. “I guess it will have to be the Y if my cousin turns me away.” 

“I’d offer you a place to stay, but my brother’s apartment is going to be jammed.” Theo’s father had said they couldn’t make it, but then his mother had called and informed Theo they’d be there, so sleeping arrangements had to be juggled. Theo’s parents were staying in Theo’s office, which would have been the room where Pat and JR stayed, and he and JR got the attic apartment, which was fine by them. Wills had moved Baby Bear’s crib to the master bedroom to free up the baby’s room for Jack, Jill, and Elf, and Marti and Acacia would take Wills’s office.  

“That’s very kind of you, but I’ll be fine. And y’know what? This topic has to be boring the hell out of you.” 

Pat rested his hand on Kit’s. “Don’t sell yourself short. I think you’re fascinating.” 

“That’s kind of you to say.” Kit’s cheeks were on fire again. “I don’t know why you’d say it, but thanks anyway.” 

“If you knew me better, you’d know I don’t whisper sweet nothings into anyone’s ear, male or female. But we can talk about something else if you like.” 

“You let me rattle on, and now you know why I’m going to DC. What about you? You said you’re going to celebrate Christmas?” 

“Yeah. This will be Baby Bear’s first.” 

“Who?” 

“My nephew. That’s what his dads call him, since he’s just right.” 

“Oh, like in Goldilocks?” 

Smart guy. Most people had to have it explained to them. “Yeah. Want to see a picture?” Pat whipped out his wallet, not giving Kit a chance to say no. Wills and Theo had had a professional photographer come to their home, and he’d posed Baby Bear in a red outfit with white trim and a red Santa hat. Wills held the baby in the crook of one arm, while his other hand rested on Theo’s hip. Both he and Theo wore matching Santa hats with white pompoms that dangled over their ears. “You can’t see it in this picture, but Baby Bear’s got an amazing head of hair.” 

“They’re a handsome family.”    

“Thanks. I think so.” Pat put away his wallet. 

“So how long will you be in DC?” 

“Oh, just until Monday. Jack and Jill—” 

Kit almost choked on his latte. When he finally caught his breath, he asked, “Who?” 

“My brother’s parents.” 

“Are you serious? Not to be rude, dude, but that’s...” He shook his head. 

“That’s okay. They’re used to that reaction.” 

“Wait a minute. Your brother’s parents? No, I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.” 

“It’s okay. Jack is Wills’s dad and Jill is his stepmom.” Pat could see that didn’t clear up Kit’s confusion. 

“And that makes you...what?” 

“The red-headed stepchild? Jack and Jill took me in after my father went medieval on my ass. I have no blood ties to them, but they’re as much my family as if there were.” 

“They sound like really nice people.” 

“They are, the best.” 

“Pat. I was wondering. Could we get together in DC? Maybe grab a hamburger, take in a movie?”

“I’d like that, but I don’t think I’ll be able to, not with tomorrow being Christmas. And Sunday we’re having Baby Bear’s child dedication ceremony.” 

“Damn. I’d really like to see you again.” 

“Program your number into my phone.” Pat took it out and pushed it across the table.  

“Really?” Kit’s eyes were bright with pleasure. 

“Really. And how about you give me your phone?” 

Kit fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket. Once the numbers were stored and the phones returned, he asked, “So, your... your brother’s a Unitarian?” 

“You’re familiar with it?” 

“I’ve looked into it a bit.” 

“They are very tolerant.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m tolerant too.” Pat grinned at him. 

“Idiot.” Under the table, Kit nudged his ankle. “I meant what religion are you? Or is that getting too personal?” 

“I go with the flow.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Jack and Jill are Catholic. If they want me to go to church with them, I go along. My mom was Episcopalian, my dad’s Protestant, not that he follows it, and me...” He shrugged.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. Some of us were meant to have religion, and some of us weren’t.” 

“Pat... Can I call you when I get back home?” 

“I’d like that but… Where’s home?” 

“Fall River. What about you?” 

“Cambridge.” 

“Maybe we could go out then?” 

“I don’t see why not. It’s only about an hour’s drive.” 

“Great!” 

An announcement came over the PA system, and Pat rose, his chair scraping back. “That’s my flight.”  

“That’s mine too! Maybe once we’re in flight they’ll let us change seats so we can sit together? That is, if you wouldn’t mind?” 

“Nah. It’ll be cool.” Once again he looped the strap of his laptop case over his shoulder and slung his guitar case across his back. 

Kit’s face lit up, and he got to his feet and grabbed the handle of his carry-on. 

They disposed of their trash and headed for the Jetway.   

VII

 Before Pat met Kit, he’d anticipated a boring flight, spending the hour and a half until the jet landed in DC trying to get a jump on the next semester’s geometry course, but with Kit’s company, he was spared the equations of curves and the distance and angle of Cartesian coordinates.  

So the flight turned out to be fun. The attendants were nice, and their fellow passengers were accommodating, maybe because it was Christmas. Pat and Kit had to play the in-flight version of musical chairs, but they finally had seats side by side, with Kit by the window and Pat in the middle. 

Kit told Pat about his job as assistant manager at a twenty-four hour pharmacy—“No, don’t be impressed,” he said, referring to the position he held at such a relatively young age. “I’ve been working there since high school. They go through assistant managers practically every other month. I’m still there because they know me, and I haven’t made any major mistakes. So far.” 

“Is that what you want to do?” 

Kit shrugged. “It’s a job. What about you?” 

Pat told Kit about his plans to become an architect. “Although I barely scraped by basic geometry. The thought of analytical geometry gives me acid indigestion.” 

“Is that what you want to do?” 

Pat shrugged. “I owe Jack.”  

“Is that what you want to do?” 

“Not really. But Kit, I’ve screwed up so many times. I need to man up and do the right thing.” 

“That sounds like something you’ve been telling yourself over and over.”  

“Nope,” Pat lied. He reached into the seatback pocket. How does he know that? And where the hell is the Sky Mall catalogue? 

“Pat.” Kit waited for him to meet his gaze. “Life’s too short to spend it doing something you’re not happy with.” 

Pat stared into those hazel eyes and refused to let himself wonder if the color changed when Kit made love. “Seriously, dude?” 

Kit blushed, and dammit, Pat wasn’t going to be charmed, especially when Kit shook his head and smiled ruefully. “Touché. Maybe we’d better change the subject.”  

“What did you want to talk about?” 

“How about movies?” 

“That works for me.” 

“What have you seen this year?” 

“Well, Shaun of the Dead, The Bourne Supremacy, The Day After Tomorrow. Dinocroc.” 

Kit groaned. “This relationship is destined for failure.” 

He thought they had a relationship? Pat grinned. “So what kind of movies do you prefer?” 

“Shall We Dance, Connie and Carla. Um... Touch of Pink.” Once again, Kit’s cheeks were red. Pat thought it was the cutest thing. 

“Dude. Not for nothing, but those movies are so gay,” he teased. 

Kit cleared his throat. “Actually, Touch of Pink is about a couple of gay guys.” 

Pat leaned close and whispered in his ear. “I know. I’ve seen it.” He held his breath as Kit turned his head. Their lips were just a... whisper... apart. 

Kit’s eyes widened and he swallowed, but he didn’t draw away. His tongue peeked out to lick his lower lip, and Pat mimicked the action. He probably could have stopped himself, but every time he licked his own lip, Kit seemed mesmerized.  

“Um... books.” 

“What about books?” God, Kit’s lips looked so ready for kissing. The upper one was a perfect bow, while the bottom one was plump and made for nibbling on. 

“What...” Kit sounded breathless. “What kind of books do you read?” 

“Do you really want to talk about books?” 

“We can’t do what I really want to do.” 

“And that is...?” 

Kit’s voice was barely audible. “Make out with you.” 

Pat groaned. 

“Are you all right, young man?” the woman in the aisle seat asked him. 

Oh crap! “Yes, ma’am. My foot just cramped up.” 

“You poor boy. It might help if you placed it flat on the floor and pressed down.” 

“Thank you. I’ll do that.” What he did do was shove his elbow into Kit’s side. Kit snuffled and snorted to keep from laughing out loud. “You’re going to pay for that!” 

“Yes? Big talk from the guy with the foot cramp.” Kit continued to chuckle, even though Pat tried to look menacing.  

“Okay, fine. We’ll talk about books. I’ve been reading The Walking Dead.” 

“A comic book?” 

“It’s a graphic novel, you philistine! Wait, how did you know....” 

“I’ve read it too.”  

“You have?” This guy was perfect for him! “What did you think of....” 

** 

The captain’s voice came over the speakers, interrupting their debate over who could be the father of Lori Grimes’s baby, her husband or the man she’d had a brief affair with.  

“We’ll be arriving in DC shortly, folks. Local time is 2:25 and the temperature is just above freezing at a nippy thirty-three degrees. No rain or snow, and it seems we won’t be having that white Christmas we all dream about. We here on the flight deck would like to take this opportunity to wish you all a very merry Christmas. Cabin crew, prepare for landing.” 

Before Pat realized it, the flight was over, the jet had landed, and he’d be parting ways with someone he didn’t want to walk away from.

The lady who’d sat on the aisle turned to them as she unfastened her safety belt. “I want to thank you boys for making this such an interesting flight. Although I do think I know more about zombies than I ever expected to.” 

“It was our pleasure, ma’am. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas to you too.” She rose and stepped out into the aisle. 

Pat took his laptop case from beneath the seat in front of him, startled when Kit touched his arm. 

“Would you mind if we waited a while?” he asked. “I’m... I’m a little nervous.” 

Pat squeezed Kit’s hand where it still rested on his arm. “I don’t mind at all.” 

** 

There was finally a little room in the aisle, and Pat eased out of his seat and reached into the overhead compartment for Kit’s carry-on. After handing it to him, Pat removed his guitar case and moved back so Kit could stand in front of him. 

The passengers moved quickly, and sooner than Pat liked, he and Kit were off the jet and in the terminal. 

“Kit, why don’t you come with me to baggage claim?” 

“Uh...” Was he going to say no? “Actually, I’d like to stop in the men’s room, if that’s all right with you.” 

“You don’t need my permission—”  

Kit blew out a breath. “Pat, I want you in there with me. I want that kiss your eyes have been promising me for the past two and a half hours.” 

“Dude, the flight was only an hour and a half.” 

“Yeah.” Kit gave him a lopsided grin. “But I’m not blind. I saw how you looked at me from the moment we met.” 

Pat stared into his eyes, knowing his cheeks were on fire. He turned on his heel and walked away. 

“P-Pat?” 

“The men’s room is this way.” 

** 

Since a number of flights had recently landed, the men’s room was crowded. Fortunately, no handicapped person stood in line for that particular stall. Pat nudged Kit into it, set his cases and Kit’s carry-on against the far wall, then reached for Kit. 

“Wait, wait!” Kit popped a Tic Tac into his mouth. 

“Better let me have one too.” The cinnamon spice flavor burst on his taste buds. “I like it,” he whispered. “I’ll like it even more sharing the taste with you.” 

“How do I...” 

“It’s just like kissing a girl.” He smoothed a hand over Kit’s hair—oh God, it was like silk, and he couldn’t resist threading his fingers through it, distracted when the strands seemed to cling to him—and pulled him into his arms. 

“O-” 

Pat’s lips cut off whatever else Kit was going to say. His plan was to keep the kiss simple. After all, Kit had never kissed a guy before. Well, if it came to that, neither had he, but he’d learned how to improvise when he was thirteen. He brushed his lips back and forth over Kit’s, but then Kit blew his plans out of the water. He parted his lips and touched the tip of his tongue to the seam of Pat’s mouth. 

And the kiss became anything but simple. Tongues dueled and explored, faces were sucked. More than anything, he wanted to grab Kit’s butt and hold him still as he rubbed his groin back and forth against Kit’s, letting him feel how hard he was, merely from a kiss. 

But Kit was a virgin, and Pat had turned over a new leaf when he’d realized he was gay. He rested his palms against Kit’s hips and let him control the kiss.  

Someone tapping on the door brought him back to reality, and he dropped his arms and stepped back—or tried to. He was more pleased than he could say when Kit moaned softly and tightened his hold. 

“We have to get out of here.” Pat murmured. 

“Are you boys okay?” The voice came from the other side of the stall door 

“Ye-” Pat cleared his throat. “Yes. We’ll be right out. Try to look sick,” he whispered. 

“You want me to pretend I’ve been yakking?” 

“No, because if you do that, I’ll start laughing.”  

“You’re a sick puppy. I like that about you.” 

Pat felt like a puppy, on its back, waving its legs in the air, hoping for a belly rub. 

He cleared his throat again. “We’d better go.” 

They gathered their belongings and slipped the latch on the stall door. An older man stood there, with a bucket and a mop beside him. His face a mass of wrinkles and his hair more salt than pepper, he could have been the twin of the maintenance man in Logan.  

“Sorry, sir. I wasn’t feeling well, and my friend wanted to make sure I didn’t collapse,” Kit said in a faint voice. “Pat?” 

Pat jumped forward and slid his arm around Kit’s waist as Kit sagged against him. “I’ve got you, buddy.” 

The man narrowed his eyes and looked from Kit to Pat. 

Pat held his breath. Was he going to challenge them? They hadn’t really done anything in public. 

“Get out of here,” he growled, suddenly sounding much younger. “And next time, get a room.” 

“Oh, we didn’t—” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Beat it.” 

Kit looked like he was actually going to argue with the man. Pat latched onto his arm and dragged him out of the men’s room. 

“Stuff like this never happens to me,” Kit said. 

“I’m sorry, Kit.” Pat couldn’t meet his gaze as they made their way to baggage claim. What was wrong with him? He was the experienced gay boy here. He should have known better. Wasn’t he the one who’d almost gotten his best friend arrested last year? “I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m not!” 

“Huh?” Pat finally looked at him. 

Kit’s cheeks were bright red and his eyes sparkled. “This is the best day of my life!” 

“Are you kidding?”

“No. Why would I be?” 

Yeah, Pat could tell by his expression he was serious. “I nearly got us arrested!” 

“No, you didn’t. The old guy was cool about it.” 

“But—” 

“Pat, we’re fine.” 

“But....” 

“Look, the way I see it is I met a cute guy who was very simpatico and who kissed me....” Kit’s eyes became unfocused. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “How you kissed me!” 

“You liked it?” 

“You mean the wood I was sporting didn’t give you a clue?” 

“Well, when you put it like that....” 

“Come on.” Kit poked his shoulder. “I need to call my cousin. Then we can hang out at baggage claim until your brother shows up.” 

** 

It didn’t take long for Kit to reach his cousin. Pat stayed a few feet away to give him some privacy. 

Kit was a little pale when he walked back to Pat, and Pat bristled. “Did that—what did he say?” 

“He said to wait for him outside Arrivals, and he’d pick me up in half an hour.” 

“Do you want me to wait with you?” 

Kit reached for his forearm and squeezed it gently. “Thank you.” 

“For what? Being willing to beard that cousin of yours?” 

“You’d do that for me?” 

“They didn’t call me Damien for nothing.” 

“Huh?” 

“Never mind, it’s not important. I’ll wait with you, and if your cousin gives you a hard time, I’ll kick his ass and take you home with me. I should have thought of this before. We’ll make a bed for you on the floor. By my side of the bed.” 

“Thank you,” Kit said again. “It’s not necessary though. I’m just a little shaken because he’s only the second person I told.” 

“Are you sure that’s it?” Pat gave him the fisheye, although he’d never admit to anyone how thrilled he was to be the first person Kit had come out to. Kit’s brother didn’t count; he was an asshole. 

“I’m sure. But hey, I have your number. If things get hinky, you can come bail me out.” 

“You’d better believe I will!” 

Kit squeezed his arm again and smiled, and they headed for baggage claim.  

** 

They’d just reached the carousel when someone called Pat’s name, and he turned to face a frazzled Wills. That wasn’t usual. The only time he lost his cool was if something happened to Theo or... 

“What’s wrong? Who’s hurt?” 

“What?” Wills ran a hand through his hair. “No, everyone is fine. Well, except for me. I forgot today was the office Christmas party, so I’ll barely have time to get you home, pick up Theo and Baby Bear, and put in an appearance—”  

“You’re taking Theo and the baby?” 

“Sure. I’m not going to miss an opportunity to show off my husband and my brand new son.” 

Pat grinned at how proud Wills looked. “And that’s what’s stressing you out?” 

“I’m not… Okay, yeah, there is one thing more. Theo’s mom wants to make htapothi xythato—” 

“Khtah-what?” It sounded like Wills was gargling with rocks. 

“It’s marinated octopus.” 

“Sorry, bro, count me out.” 

“Lucky you. It happens to be a favorite of Theo’s, he hasn’t had it in fourteen years, and if I ate rabbit for him, I’m not going to say no to octopus.” 

“Wills, you ate Bugs Bunny? Oh, yuck!” 

“At least he’s never asked me to eat brains.” 

“Mmm. Brains.....” 

“Don’t go Night of the Living Dead on me.” 

Pat laughed. “So what else is going on?” 

“Elf keeps trying to dismantle the Christmas tree, Baby Bear’s being handed from one set of grandparents to the other, and the last time I had a chance to hold him was—” He stopped short and raised an eyebrow when he saw Kit standing nearby and smiling. “Can I help you?” 

“Wills, this is Kit, short for Christopher.” Pat sent Kit a sideways grin. “We flew in from Logan together. Kit, this is my brother, William.” Pat held his breath for a second, as always uncertain how Wills would take being referred to as the Antichrist’s brother. 

But Wills just extended his hand. “Hello, Kit. Nice to—Have we met before?” 

“No.” 

“You look—never mind. It’s nice to meet you. Pat, get your suitcase, would you? We have to get home.” 

Fortunately, his suitcase was just coming around the conveyor belt, and he grabbed it up.  

“You’ve got your hands full, Pat. I’ll get it.” Wills took the suitcase from him and released the telescoping handle. 

“I’m sorry, Kit, I have to go. Call me as soon as you know what’s going on with your cousin, okay?” As much as he wanted to kiss Kit again, Pat knew this place was just too public.  

“Okay.” Kit ran his tongue over his lower lip and grinned at what Pat was sure was the glazed look in his eyes. “I’ll call you later?” 

“You’d better. If I don’t hear from you by midnight—” 

“Midnight Mass, Pat?” Wills reminded him. 

“Shit. That’s right. Okay, if I don’t hear from you by ten, I’m calling you.” 

A soft smile teased at Kit’s lips. “Thanks,” he said. “It was nice meeting you, William.” 

“Same here. I don’t mean to be rude, but we’ve got to get going.” 

More than anything, Pat wanted to kiss Kit, but they were in a public place, and even a hug might be looked on with disfavor. 

Not that Wills wouldn’t protect them if it came to that. Sometimes he carried a gun. Pat remembered the undercover cop and how Wills stood with his foot on the guy’s spine and his gun at the back of his head. Would he be packing heat today?  

Probably not. It was Christmas Eve, after all. 

Fortunately, Kit solved the problem by holding out his hand. “I hope to see you again before you leave DC, Pat.” 

“Count on it!” He intended to see Kit if he had to… Wait, maybe Wills wouldn’t mind if he brought Kit to the party after Baby Bear’s dedication? 

“Let’s go, Pat.” Wills started for the door. 

“Right. Bye Kit. See you soon.” 

Kit nodded, gave Pat’s hand a final squeeze, and then headed away from them. Pat stood staring after a very fine ass. 

“Pat.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” But before he turned away, Pat saw Kit glance over his shoulder. When he realized Pat was watching him, he grinned broadly. Pat raised his guitar case in a salute. 

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Wills asked as he hustled him out to the parking lot. 

He decided to give Wills just the Cliff notes. “Kit sort of outed himself to his older brother, and he didn’t take it well.” 

“Jesus. That sucks.” 

“I know.” 

“What’s he doing in DC?” Wills gave him a look. “Do not tell me he’s looking for a sugar daddy.” 

“No. He’s got a cousin who lives here. Apparently the cousin suspected he might be gay. He gave him his phone number and told him to call him if he had problems.” 

“He didn’t think to call from home?” They arrived at the Dodge, and Wills opened the trunk and stored Pat’s suitcase in it. 

“I guess not. Maybe he felt he couldn’t.”  

“What’s his last name?” 

Pat gave him a blank stare. “I have no idea. I didn’t even think to ask. Well, he never asked me mine either,” he added defensively. 

Wills squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, can anything else come up?” He closed the trunk and opened the rear passenger door. 

Pat propped his guitar case next to the car seat that was secured in the backseat, shut the door, and opened the front door while Wills walked around to the driver’s side.  

They got in the car, and Pat set the laptop at his feet before turning to Wills. “So you’re going in to work as soon as we get home?” 

“Yeah. Buckle up, would you?” He did the same, put the key in the ignition, and turned on the engine. It gave a subdued purr. He backed out of the spot, and in a matter of minutes they were on the road. “I’ll keep it short, though.” 

“What’s the plan for tonight?” 

“Dinner at six—”  

“Which Mrs. Bascopolis is making.” 

“Just the octopus.” Wills grinned at him. “Theo has everything else prepared.” 

“Do I dare ask what?” 

“Fish, Pat. Just like for Good Friday.” 

“But not octopus.” 

“No, not octopus, unless you want to give it a try.” 

Pat blew out a relieved breath. He couldn’t object when Wills grinned. 

“After dinner, Baby Bear and Elf will get their baths and be put to bed. We leave for Midnight Mass at eleven. St. Joshua’s is a small chapel, and we want to get a pew for the whole family. Theo’s mom and dad will stay home with Acacia to babysit.” 

“That’s right, they’re Greek Orthodox. When do they celebrate Christmas?” 

“January seventh.” 

“Are you taking Baby Bear down to Florida to spend it with them?” 

“I think we will. Theo’s parents would like it.” 

“How is Mr. Bascopolis doing?” Pat knew Theo’s mother had readily accepted the fact that her son and his husband were expecting a baby via in vitro and surrogacy, but his father had been less than enthusiastic. 

The corner of Wills’s mouth tilted up in a smile. “It’s really clichéd, but he took one look at Baby Bear and said to Mrs. B, ‘Woman, give me my grandson.’” 

“It’s going to be okay, then.” 

“Yeah. I don’t know if he’ll ever admit to the rest of the family that Theo’s gay, but I guess baby steps are better than no steps at all.” He became serious. “How did Winchester work out?” 

“He’s a nice guy. He listened when I went over the instructions for the animals.” And he thought I had magic fingers when I played the guitar. “I... well, to tell the truth, if he wasn’t straight and if he’d come on to me, I wouldn’t have said no.” 

“But he is straight.” 

“Yeah.” Pat sighed, and then grinned. “But Kit isn’t.” 

“Do you think he’ll call you?” 

“Why wouldn’t he? He said he would.” 

“Yeah, but—” 

“Would it be all right if I invite him to Baby Bear’s party on Sunday?”  

Wills was quite for a moment, then said, “All right. If he calls, you can invite him.” 

“Sweet!” Like Wills had said, baby steps. Pat would wait until he heard from Kit before he mentioned anything about him possibly staying with them. 

Wills laughed and shook his head. “Let me call Theo so he’ll be ready when we get home, and then suppose you tell me more about Kit.” 

**  

“Well, he does sound like a decent guy.” 

“And he’s cute too, isn’t he?” 

“I just wish I knew why I keep thinking I’ve seen him before.” Wills turned into the street where he lived. 

“I know what you mean. Maybe he just has that kind of face.” 

“Maybe.” 

Pat swallowed a laugh when Wills made a satisfied sound and steered the Dodge to the curb. It always burned his butt if someone took “his” parking spot. Theo had mentioned it once, and how happy Wills was when he beat his unknown opponent to the spot, but this was the first time Pat actually got to see that reaction.

Wills pulled the latch that opened the trunk, then got out and jogged up the steps to the front door to unlock it. Pat knew Wills had left the engine running and the heater on so it would be warm in the car for its precious cargo. 

He gathered his cases, set them down on the sidewalk, and went to get his suitcase.  

Wills bounded down to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to hurry you up, but....”  

“I’m hurrying.” Pat closed the trunk and returned to the sidewalk. 

“We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”  

“Have fun.”    

Wills squeezed his arm. “Thanks, Pat.” He jogged around to the driver’s door and got in. 

VIII

 Pat opened the front door and let himself into the house. He ran into Theo while he was going up the stairs to the apartment on the third floor and Theo was coming down, Baby Bear bundled up and cradled in his arms. 

“Hi, Theo.” 

“Hi, Pat.” 

“Bye, Theo.” 

“Bye, Pat.” 

And they both went on their way, laughing. 

Pat pressed the doorbell, recognizing “Isn’t It Romantic?” as the chimes rang out. 

The door opened, and Jill stood there with a half-naked Elf on her hip. “Pat! You’re here.” She stepped aside so he could enter. 

He kissed her cheek and set down his cases. No point in bringing them in beyond the foyer, when he’d be taking them up to the attic in a little while.  

“How was your flight?” 

“Awesome!” 

She paused as she was about to lead him into the living room. “Awesome?” 

“Yeah. I met someone, and he’s going to call me as soon as he gets everything squared away.” 

“Oh, sweetie, guys say that.” 

“I know, Jill. I’m a guy. But he said he’ll call, and I know he will.” 

She rested her palm against his cheek. “I hope you won’t be disappointed.” 

“Pat! Pat!” Elf held out his arms, opening and closing his little fists to indicate he wanted Pat to hold him. 

“Yes, little man, it’s Pat.” Jill shifted him into Pat’s arms. 

“I’m gonna steal your nose!” Pat gently placed his forefinger and middle finger on each side of Elf’s nose, then drew them back and stuck his thumb between the two fingers, pretending it was the little boy’s nose. 

Elf stared at Pat’s hand, wide-eyed. 

“Okay, now I’m gonna put it back.” He tickled Elf’s nose and dropped a quick kiss on it, and Elf burst into giggles. Pat grinned at Jill. “I can understand why Wills wanted a baby.” 

“We’ve been very lucky. My little man has been an angel, haven’t you?”  

Elf smiled around the thumb he’d stuck in his mouth and rested his cheek against Pat’s shoulder.  

“Something smells good.” Pat rubbed gentle circles on Elf’s back. 

“Dianthe is cooking—” 

“Octopus. Yeah, Wills told me. I may have to try it.” 

“I definitely am. I had it years ago, when I was at UC Berkeley, and it will be interesting to see if it measures up to my memories of it.” 

They walked into the living room. A black and white version of A Christmas Carol was on the TV, but no one was paying attention to it. Jack was telling Theo’s dad about the renovations his brother’s company had done to the apartment last year, while JR and Acacia put ornaments on the live tree. Pat recalled Wills saying Elf had tried to take the tree apart. 

“Everyone, look who’s here!” 

“Glad to see you made it okay, Pat,” Jack said. “Jill was afraid someone would try to lure you into the men’s room.” 

Pat could feel his cheeks heat up as he thought of making out with Kit in the handicapped stall. 

“Patrick?” Trust Jack to notice the telltale blush.  

“No one lured me, Jack.” It was more like he lured Kit. “Hi, Mr. Bascopolis. Hi Acacia.” He cleared his throat. “Hi, JR.” 

“Pat!” JR left the tree decorating to Acacia and joined him. “Give Elf back to Mom. I’ll take you upstairs and help you get settled.” 

Uh oh. He knew that tone of voice. Odds were his best friend had seen his blush also. It looked like he was in for a grilling. Well, no sense in putting it off. 

Jill took Elf. “Leave your guitar down here, Pat. I want to hear what you’ve come up with for Baby Bear.” 

“Yes, Jill.” 

“Come on, Pat.” JR latched onto his jacket sleeve and tugged him along after him. 

Pat retrieved his suitcase and laptop and followed JR out the door and up the stairs to the attic apartment. 

“This is nice,” he said as he looked around. He hadn’t had the opportunity to see this space the last time he’d been here more than a year and a half before since it had been rented at the time. The kitchen had all high-end finishes and enough room for a bistro table and two chairs.  

“Yeah. We’ll be eating downstairs, though,” JR informed him.  

The kitchen opened into a nice-sized dining area. The living area was large and contained a couch, armchairs, glass coffee table, wet bar, and flat screen TV on the wall. A work space with jacks for internet access was set up in a far corner. JR’s laptop was already open on the desk, so Pat left his propped up against the chair.  

“Wills did the repairs and Theo did the decorating.” 

“They make a good team.” Pat took off his pea jacket, and JR took it and hung it up. “They did a great job.” 

“They did. The bedroom is this way. I left the right side of the dresser empty for you.” 

“Thanks.”  

“You’re welcome. Now what’s up with the blushing?” 

“Was I blushing?” Pat swung his suitcase onto the bed, unlocked and unzipped it, and began to empty it. 

“Don’t give me that Mr. Innocence routine. I know you. Now, talk.” 

“You’re right. I met someone.” 

“Not Winchester!” 

“Why not Winchester? He’s a very nice guy.” 

“Pat, he’s straight!” 

“I know that. It doesn’t mean I can’t like him.” 

JR scowled at him. “We’re not talking about Winchester, are we?” 

“Well, I wasn’t.” 

“You make me so crazy!” It took JR a couple of minutes to regain control of his breathing.  

While he did that, Pat brought his shaving kit—not that he had to shave that frequently, but he also carried his toothbrush and deodorant in it—into the bathroom and then went back to emptying his suitcase.  

“Okay, Mulcahy.” 

“What about the redhead you met on your flight down here?” 

“Ships that pass in the night.” JR waved it away. “Talk!” 

“Geez, you’re such a pain! Okay, okay. His name is Kit, and I met him at Logan. He would have stepped into a puddle of vomit, but I rescued him.” 

“His very own white knight?” 

“You’d better believe it, bro. Anyway, we had a couple of lattes, and it turned out we were on the same flight to DC, so we sat together and talked.” 

“That’s all?” 

“Well....” He hadn’t thought it would be cool to ask a virgin to join the mile high club, but he wasn’t going to let his best friend in on that little tidbit. 

“I knew it! What did you do?” 

“I kissed him, okay?” 

“Wait, you’ve never kissed a guy.” 

“Well, I have now. And I liked it!” This was what he got for confiding in his best friend in a moment of weakness. He’d always enjoyed kissing, which was one of the reasons he’d had no problem getting girls. But none of the guys he’d hooked up with had wanted to kiss him, and he’d missed it, wondering if he’d ever get to kiss again. “And if you say anything about that when you meet him—” 

“I’m going to meet him? When?” 

“On Sunday. Wills said it would be okay if I invited him to the party.” 

“Are you serious? You are serious! Pat!” 

“I’m gonna take a shower.” 

“No, you’re not!” 

“I promised your mom I’d play the music for Baby Bear’s ceremony.” 

“She can wait!” Jar pushed him back on the bed, straddled his waist, and pinned him down. “Now, talk, Mulcahy, or you’re going to feel the fingers of death!” He flexed his fingers. 

“No! Please! Anything but the fingers of death!” This was what he loved about his friend. JR didn’t care a hill of beans that Pat was gay, he didn’t let it interfere with their friendship, and he certainly didn’t let it stop him from taking advantage of his friend’s one weakness: like Injun Joe, Pat was very, very ticklish.  

“Are you going to talk?” JR dug his fingers into Pat’s sides, and Pat convulsed into helpless laughter. 

“Stop! Stop! I’ll talk!” He could hardly speak for how breathless he’d become. 

JR blew on his fingertips as if they were shooting irons and pretended to stuff them into holsters. He got off Pat, stretched out beside him on the bed, and braced his head on his hand.  

“You’re a good friend, Jar.” 

“Of course.” 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. And I’m still waiting to hear about this Kit.” 

Pat turned on his side and faced his friend. “He’s a nice guy, Jar.” 

“Nicer than Winchester?” 

“You better believe it. Kit’s gay. I think you’ll like him. I know I do.”  

“You really do?” 

“Yeah.” And Pat began to tell JR about the most amazing two and a half hours in his life. 

IX

While the family waited for Wills, Theo, and their son to return, Pat ran through what he called “Baby Bear’s Medley.” 

“You did a good job, son.” In spite of the fact Jack had cleared his throat before he’d spoken, his tone was gruff. 

“Thanks, Jack!” He treasured those times when Jack called him son. 

“Oh, Pat!” Jill dried her cheeks with her palms. “I wish I’d thought to ask you to do this for Elf.” 

“I still can. Tell me what songs you’d like, and I’ll put it together and have it ready for his next birthday.” 

“Thank you!” She jumped up, went to him, and hugged him. 

“Geez, Jill. It’s the least I can do.” 

She smacked his arm. “Don’t say that.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Miss Su, who’d been playing with a catnip mouse, suddenly bolted from the room. 

“We’re home,” Wills called from the foyer. “Where is everyone?  

“In the living room,” Jack called back. 

Theo walked in, carrying Baby Bear, who was wrapped up against the cold, his little red nose the only part of him visible. Wills came in on Theo’s heels, his arms filled with boxes that still bore the remnants of wrapping paper. Miss Su trotted after them, eyeing the paper. 

“This kid made out like a bandit!” Wills announced, the corner of his mouth curled in a proud grin.  

“Yeah,” Theo agreed as Jill took the baby from him and began to remove Baby Bear’s outerwear. “I wasn’t surprised the secretaries went overboard, but who’d have thought—” 

Wills dropped the gifts, went to Theo, and kissed him. When Wills drew back, Theo’s eyes were crossed. 

“What... why...?” Theo shook his head, and Pat had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. 

“What can I tell you, babe? You’re irresistible. Now, why don’t you get Baby Bear’s bottle? He needs to be fed and changed.” Wills stooped to pick up the gifts. “Then we can have dinner.” 

Theo gave Wills a slow smile. “I’ll just see about feeding Baby Bear and changing his diaper, shall I? And then we can have dinner.” 

Pat watched their interaction wistfully. Apart they were good men, capable men. But together, the love they had for each other overshadowed everything else. 

He glanced at the adults in the room and wasn’t surprised to see they were as affected as he.  

Of course JR didn’t notice. He was busy playing with Miss Su, but Pat didn’t consider his best friend an adult. 

He snickered as he joined JR on the floor, balled up a strip of wrapping paper, and tossed it to Miss Su. 

** 

Dinner was fun, especially watching Elf’s reaction when he tried to eat a piece of octopus but kept missing his mouth and smeared it over his cheeks and chin.

The octopus looked strange but tasted good. Not that Pat was sure he’d want to try it again, but at least he could say he’d eaten tentacles. 

After the two littlest Mathesons had their baths and were put to bed, Pat played “Baby Bear’s Medley” for Wills and Theo.  

Just as he finished plucking the last chords, Wills’s cell phone rang. Pat recognized the ringtone as “Vincent.” 

“Sorry, Pat, I have to take this.” 

Theo looked tense, and Wills squeezed his shoulder before he left the room. 

“Uh... what do you think of the songs, Theo?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I like your choices.” But it was easy to see he was distracted. 

Within a few minutes, Wills returned. “Sorry,” he said again. He sat next to Theo on the couch, slid an arm around him, and murmured something in his ear. 

“Yeah? Cool.”  

“So those are the songs you plan to go with, Pat?” Wills asked. 

“Yes. Unless you’d prefer something else?” 

“No, what you’ve chosen is perfect. Theo and I appreciate you doing this for us.” 

“It’s my pleasure.”  

“Would you mind playing it again?” 

“No, I never mind practicing.” 

“You should have seen the way he made us practice for your wedding.” JR snorted. “He’s a slave driver!” 

“I am not!” 

“Are too!” 

“Guys? We need to get ready for mass soon.” 

Pat began again with “Slipping Through My Fingers,” but this time it was his phone that rang. He dropped the pick and fumbled for his cell phone. “Hello?” 

“Hi, Pat. It’s Kit. I know I’m calling a little early—”  

It was nine fifteen, not that Pat was watching the clock. 

“I hope that’s okay?” 

“Are you going to tell me it’s over between us?” 

“What? No!” 

“Okay, then. It’s fine.”  

Kit gave a spurt of laughter. “I’m glad. My cousin and his husband are taking me out to dinner at this really amazing Italian restaurant, and I’m not sure what time we’ll get back, so I wanted to talk to you before you started to worry.”  

“You think I’d worry if you didn’t call?” 

“Yes.” 

Kit was right. Having been a notorious player, Pat would have expected the worst. Not that he would admit that. “So you found your cousin.”  

“Yeah.”  

“Are you okay? How did it go?” 

“Yes, and better than I’d hoped.” Kit lowered his voice. “He is gay.”  

“Is he?” Pat bit back a laugh.If the man had a husband, odds were pretty good he was gay. 

Fortunately, Kit didn’t seem to notice his amusement. “We had a long talk, and then I called my mom and dad, as he suggested.” 

Pat immediately became serious. “You told them you’re gay?”

“No, just that I’d had some thinking to do.” 

“Didn’t it strike them as odd that you had to do your thinking in DC?” 

“I don’t know; they didn’t bring it up. They sounded kind of subdued.” 

“Do you think your brother told them?” 

Kit sighed. “I don’t know,” he said again. “I’ll... I don’t want you to think I’m wimping out. I’ll tell them face-to-face when I get home.” 

“When will that be?” 

“I haven’t booked my flight yet.” 

“Stay at least until Monday?  I want you to come to Baby Bear’s party on Sunday.” 

“You... you want me there? But it’s a family affair. What will your family think?”

Pat got up and walked to the far end of the room, pretending not to see the family’s interested looks. “They’re dying to meet you.” 

“You told them about me?” 

“Yep.” 

“I’d love to—Ah, shit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“My cousin’s already made arrangements for something on Sunday afternoon.” 

“Kit, I want to see you before you leave for home.” 

“I want that too. I’m sorry. I don’t see how I can get out of this.” 

Theo touched Pat’s arm. “Hold on a sec, okay?” He put his hand over the mouthpiece. “Yes, Theo?” 

“Why not ask him if he’d like to go to the Botanic Garden with us tomorrow?” 

“You wouldn’t mind?” 

“The more the merrier.” 

“Thank you!” He went back to the couch. What was the point in trying for privacy in this family? He sat down and spoke into the phone again. “Kit, we’re going to the Botanic Garden tomorrow afternoon. Would you join us?” 

“I have no idea where it is, but tell me where and when you want me to meet you, and I’ll be there!” 

“Awesome sauce! We’ll be at the Maryland Avenue SW entrance at two. Maybe you could come home with me for dinner afterward?” 

“Let me make sure that’s okay with my cousin.” 

“Go ahead and ask him. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Hold on.” Kit’s voice was filled with laughter and pleasure. 

Pat turned to JR, who, like everyone else in the family, was making no effort to disguise his interest. “He’s checking to make sure it’s okay.” 

After a minute or so, Kit came back on the line. “Pat? It’s a go. I can’t wait to see you again.” 

“Me neither.” Could this day get any better? For a second Pat let himself fantasize about the two of them slipping away from the family to find a spot where they could make out for a while. 

“Maybe we’ll be able to find someplace secluded where I can kiss you again?” Kit murmured. 

How cool was it that their minds were so in sync? “Kit, short for Christopher, I like the way you think!” 

“Awesome sauce!” 

Pat nearly choked on his laughter. “I think I’m a bad influence on you.”  

“Never! I have to go now, Pat. I’ll see you tomorrow. At two. Maryland Avenue SW entrance. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas.” They hung up. 

“Patrick’s got a boyfriend!” Marti sing-songed. Abruptly she frowned. “When do I get a boyfriend?” 

“When you’re thirty-five,” her father told her. 

“Oh, Daddy!” 

Jill clapped her hands. “All right, everyone. Shower and then get dressed.” With so many people needing to get ready, it was going to take them a while.  

It was a good thing Wills had installed a hot water heater that was bottomless. 

“I’ll flip you for who gets the shower first,” JR said as they climbed the stairs to the attic apartment.  

Pat fished a coin out of his pocket. “You call it.” He tossed the coin into the air, caught it on the back of his hand, and slapped his other palm down on it. 

“Tails.” 

Pat made a show of removing his hand and looking at the coin. It was heads, but then so was the other side. How was it that JR had never caught on? 

But it was Christmas, and Marti was right: he had a boyfriend. 

“Tails it is. I’ll take out our suits while you shower.” 

X

Once everyone was ready, they met down at the street where the minivan Wills had rented waited. 

“Next time you may need a bus, son.” Jack chuckled at his joke as everyone piled into the minivan.

“You’re probably right, Dad. Next year we’re going to start trying for a redheaded baby.” 

“Theo’s?” 

“And mine.” 

“Boy?” 

“Or girl. And a couple of years after that....” He grinned and got behind the wheel. 

** 

They entered St. Joshua’s a little after eleven and found a pew that would accommodate them all. Candles flickered, and the scent of incense and evergreen filled the chapel. The pews quickly filled.  

The organist played softly until the choir appeared in the loft and began to sing. 

At midnight, a priest and two altar boys came out of the sacristy, and the mass began. 

Along with the congregation, Pat rose, he knelt, he sat, he spoke the responses, but it was rote: the entire time his thoughts were on Kit. 

 **

 Pat and JR stayed up late after they got home from mass. They found a bag of gourmet popcorn in the pantry and nuked it, then settled on the couch, Pat at one end and JR at the other. 

“A Christmas Story marathon, Pat?” TBS would be showing it this year.  

“Sure.” But it had been a long day, and Pat’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Just as Ralphie started beating the living crap out of Scut Farcus, Pat’s lids gave up the ghost. His head tipped back against the arm of the couch, and he was out cold. 

** 

“Oh, God, I’ve got such a crick in my neck!” Pat groaned when he woke up later that morning. “Why did you let me sleep on the couch?” It was comfortable to sit on but the pits to sleep on. 

“Two words, bro. Dead weight.” JR yawned, sat up at the other end of the couch, and rubbed his scalp briskly. “Dude. I think my eyes are gummed shut.” 

“Nice image, John Robert. Do you think anyone else is up? I could use a cup of coffee.” 

“Let’s go down and see.” 

“I’ve gotta pee first. And I think I’d better brush my teeth.” 

“Me too!” 

After taking care of business and trying to tame out-of-control bedhead, they went downstairs. 

Wills answered their tap on the door. “Morning, guys.” He pulled them into hugs and pounded their backs. “Merry Christmas. Breakfast is in the dining room. Help yourselves to juice or coffee. Theo and Mrs. B. are making blueberry pancakes, fried eggs, and bacon.” 

“Lots and lots of bacon?” JR licked his lips.  

“Oink, oink, oink,” Pat teased. 

“Hey, I’m a growing boy. And I’m starved!” 

They hurried into the dining room. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”  

“Merry Christmas, JR. Merry Christmas, Pat.” 

They helped themselves to coffee and found their seats 

Platters of pancakes, fried eggs, and bacon were on the table, along with bowls of fresh fruit, and Pat filled his plate. He had sampled Theo’s pancakes before, and his mouth watered as he slathered them with butter and drowned them in syrup. 

Elf, sitting in a highchair, stuffed pieces of egg into his mouth, having better success than with the octopus the evening before. 

Wills sat at the head of the table, feeding Baby Bear his bottle and humming softly under his breath. 

Pat gazed around at this family that had taken him in, and ducked his head. He didn’t have much religion, but he sent a brief prayer of thanks to whatever Being there might be for bringing him to this point in his life. 

** 

After breakfast, Theo said, “Okay, the dishes can wait. Everyone into the living room. It’s time to see what Santa brought us!” 

Clothes, games, books, CDs, electronic gadgets. There were even presents for Miss Su, which didn’t surprise Pat. He’d been involved with this family since he and JR had entered Pre-K, and he knew they considered their pets their children, only with four legs and fur. 

Of course Baby Bear was too young to appreciate it, but Elf had a ball, enjoying the empty boxes and scraps of wrapping paper as much as Miss Su. 

Pat had never been involved with anyone under the age of five, but Elf was a fun little boy, and if he could have a child like him, he just might be willing to give parenthood a shot. Although not for years and years. And years. 

Once the presents were unwrapped, ooh’d and aah’d over, and then put away, Theo made some phone calls to wish his friends merry Christmas.  

Wills made some phone calls too, and Pat was close enough to listen in on one. “Merry Christmas, Winchester. How are things in Cambridge? … I’m glad to hear that. My family appreciates what you’re doing. … Well, we still appreciate it. … Pat? He’s right here. … Sure.” Wills handed his phone to Pat. “Winchester wants to say hi.” 

“Hi, Kyle.” 

“Kyle?” Wills mouthed. 

Pat hunched a shoulder and turned his back on him.  

“Hi, Pat. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas to you too. Was Santa good to you?” And then Pat wanted to kick himself. To all intents and purposes, Kyle didn’t have a family. “I’m sorry….” 

“Actually, Santa was great to me! I got the most amazing CD, and I’ve listened to it four times already. How did you figure out the kind of music I’d like?” 

“I crossed my fingers and hoped we’d have similar tastes.” 

“It looks like we do. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. What else did you get? I know Wills gave you a gift card.” 

“Yes, and I’ve thanked him for that, but it wasn’t necessary. I mean, I am being paid.” 

“The laborer is worthy of his hire,” Pat said loftily. 

“How old are you anyway?” Kyle’s chuckle was warm in his ear. “Oh, and Pat, you’ll never guess! My sister sent me a Lord of the Rings T-shirt.” He laughed softly. “I never liked Tolkien, and it’s the size I wore the last time she saw me, but it’s the first time she’s sent me anything since I left.” 

“That’s awesome, Kyle. Uh… how did it get to you?” 

“Oh, she sent it to my company, and they shipped it up to me.” 

“You work for a really great company.” He could feel Wills tense up beside him. What was that about? “Hold on a second, Kyle?” He turned to Wills. “Do you mind?” 

Wills shook his head but didn’t move. 

“Sorry, Kyle, my brother is being an ass.” Pat scowled at Wills, who seemed more relaxed. “Fine.” He turned away. “So, do you think maybe your sister wised up and left the jerk?” 

“I hope so. I’m going to call her after lunch. If she hasn’t left him, maybe she’ll be willing to now. I’d move her in with me.” 

“You’re a good brother, Kyle.” 

“Thank you, Pat, but I’m not.” He sounded sad. “Oh, you’ll never guess who paid me a visit?” 

Pat let him change the subject. “The Tooth Fairy?” 

“Not quite.” That got Kyle to laugh. It was pleasant, but it didn’t do anything to him, not the way Kit’s laugh did. “I met your neighbors.” 

“The Herendons? Both of them? Shit. What did they want?” 

“They wanted to know who I was, what I was doing here, and where the Mathesons were.” 

“What did you say?” 

“I told them I was house sitting, but none of the other information was any of their business.” 

“Wow! That was brave!” 

“I’ve faced worse.” 

“There is nothing worse. So what did they say?” 

“They started to get all huffy, and I told them their opinions of me and my family were immaterial to me.” 

“Oh, wow. You are brave! I’m so sorry you had to put up with their crap.” 

“I didn’t, Pat.” He sounded amused. “I just shut the door and walked into the kitchen to nuke dinner.” 

That distracted him. “What did you have?” 

“The goulash.” 

“Good choice.” 

“Very good choice. It was delicious.” 

“Thanks, Kyle.” 

“So, was Santa good to you?” 

“Yes.  Uh… I met someone at the airport yesterday.” 

“Did you? Why do I feel this isn’t a non sequitur?” 

“He’s the best Christmas present I could have.” And Pat intended to keep him as long as he could. 

“I’m so pleased. Tell me all about it.” 

Pat spent the next ten minutes talking about Kit. “We’re going to meet up at the Botanic Garden this afternoon. And you know what’s even better? He’s from Massachusetts, and he lives only about an hour away, so we can see each other when we get home!” 

“That’s great, Pat. You tell him to treat you well, or he’ll have me to deal with.” 

Pat could feel his face heat up. “Thanks, Kyle.” 

“I’ve got to go now. Def is telling me if I don’t take him out right this minute, he isn’t going to be responsible for what happens all over the living room rug.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“You bet. Enjoy the Garden.” 

“Will do. Bye.” 

“Bye, Pat.” 

Pat disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Wills. “Kyle has a phone just like this.” 

Wills ignored that. “You’ll see him on Monday?” 

“Well, yeah. He’s going to pick us up at the airport.” He grinned when he realized the entire family had listened in on his conversation. “I told you he was a nice guy.”  

“Pat, do you have two boyfriends?” Marti stared at him wide-eyed. 

“No, munchkin. One is more than enough for me.” 

“Okay!” 

“I’m going to load the dishwasher. No, everyone stay put. Wills will help me.” Theo gave Wills another one of those slow grins, and Wills’s happiness was obvious. “Poppa, why don’t you turn on TBS? A Christmas Story is still on.” 

Mr. Bascopolis grunted and picked up the remote control, but a broad smile crossed his face as, with a couple of clicks, Ralphie Parker’s quest for a Red Ryder BB Gun was once again on the screen. 

Pat settled down on the floor, leaning back against the couch. Miss Su came to him and climbed onto his lap. “Do you want to watch this too?” He flexed his fingers in the fur at the back of her neck. She relaxed, almost boneless, and purred. 

JR made himself comfortable on one side of Pat and Marti on his other side. 

And that was how they spent the rest of the morning. 

XI 

In spite of all the pancakes, fried eggs, and bacon they’d had for breakfast, no one said no to a light lunch of sandwiches. However, that was a bit too light for Pat and JR, so they raided the fridge for potato salad and cole slaw as well. Then they’d all gone to their various rooms to get ready for the outing to the Botanic Garden. 

Now, Pat stood in black boxer briefs and a black T-shirt—the fact that the shorts framed his junk nicely and the shirt hugged his biceps and pecs was totally immaterial; he hadn’t chosen them on the off chance Kit might see them—and scowled at the clothes he’d yanked out of his side of the closet and scattered across the bed. Dockers, sweatpants, jeans, dress shirts, Henleys, sweatshirts—nothing pleased him. 

JR, on the other hand, had finished dressing and was in the bathroom putting product in his hair. “I plan to be ready in case I meet a lovely young lady who’ll be devastated by my amazing good looks. There,” he announced from the bathroom. “Pretty enough to be kissed.” And he made a kissing sound. 

Pat glanced around as JR walked back into the bedroom and sighed. “Do you have to look so freaking good?” 

“Yes.” JR stopped abruptly, and his eyes widened as he gazed around the room. “Did a tornado hit this place while I was in the bathroom?” And then his eyes narrowed as he took in Pat’s state of undress. “Pat, why aren’t you dressed?” 

“I’m dressed,” he muttered. Well, kind of.  

“Seriously, dude? You’re planning to go out in your shorts when the temp has literally hit the freezing mark?”  

“And if I am?” 

“Then I’d say you’re a few rides short of an amusement park.” 

Pat glared at him. “I changed my mind. I’m not going.” 

“Patrick, what’s going on?” 

He wasn’t going to tell his friend. It was dumb and... He heard himself confessing, “I don’t have a freaking thing to wear!” 

“What, are you a girl?” JR stared pointedly at the mess on the bed.  

“Nothing looks good.” Pat scrubbed a hand over his face, then thrust his fingers into his hair, knowing he’d need to comb it before they left the apartment. “Jar, this is important. I don’t want to look like a dork.” 

“Dude. When have you ever looked like a dork?” 

That was true, but, “There’s always a first time.” 

“Not while JR Matheson is on the scene.” He went to the box of shirts his brother and Theo had given Pat as a Christmas gift. “Theo always had a good eye for color. Ah. This looks good.” He took out a gray dress shirt and handed it to Pat. “Take out the pins and cardboard.” 

Pat did as he was instructed. Why hadn’t he thought of wearing his new clothes? He slid his arms into the sleeves. “It’s scratchy,” he griped. That was why. “Alice always washes new stuff before we wear it.” 

“Well, there’s no time for that now. You will wear it and not say a word. You hear me?” 

“Geez, you’re bossy.” 

“And your point is?” He didn’t wait for Pat to answer. “Now, these jeans will set that shirt off perfectly.” JR held up a pair of black button fly Levi’s, which were Baby Bear’s gift to Pat. “Did you bring running shoes that don’t look like they’re on their last legs?” 

“No.”  

“Of course not. Well, you’ll have to wear your loafers. It’s a good thing it isn’t snowing. Or raining.” 

“I know. Jill would kill me if they got ruined before tomorrow.” 

“Oh, geez, can you picture yourself at All Faiths Universalist Church in your white sweat socks? Or barefoot?” 

“Why would I have to do that if there’s no snow or rain?” 

“Well, you could fall into the boat pond at the Garden.” While he was talking, JR was busy removing the labels from the jeans. 

“I’d really rather not.” 

“You’re a laugh riot, Mulcahy. Here. Put these on.” JR tossed him the Levi’s. “Where are your shoes?” 

“In the closet.” 

“Okay.” He took them out, put them where Pat could conveniently step into them, and pointed to them. 

Pat stepped into them as he tucked in the shirt and buttoned up the Levi’s. “Satisfied?” 

“For the time being.”  

“How are we getting there?” He flexed his knees, bent at the waist, and did a few squats. “Oh, I like the way these fit!”  

“Our nephew has impeccable taste.” 

“Yes, he does.” Pat backed up a few steps and turned this way and that, admiring himself in the mirror above the dresser. “The kid’s a genius!” 

“This is true. And you know what else, Pat? You make the gay community proud.” JR patted his shoulder. 

“Of course.” Pat preened. “So the transportation factor?” 

“Theo’s driving the Dodge, and we’re with him, Marti, and Baby Bear. Wills is driving the minivan, and Mom, Dad, and Elf are going with him, along with Mr. and Mrs. Bascopolis and Acacia.” 

“Y’know one of the things I love about your family?” Pat picked up his comb and ran it through his disheveled hair, avoiding JR’s gaze in the mirror. 

“What?” 

“It’s how you include other people in it so easily.” 

 “Oh God, having a boyfriend is making you a mush!” 

“No, it’s having you for my best friend. I never thanked you, but I want you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life.” 

“Geez, Pat, you’re my best friend, too.” JR was blushing. “You don’t have to—” 

“I do, if only because today is Christmas. And on Christmas, you tell the truth.” Pat hugged him close. “Thank you, John Robert.” 

JR leaned back and studied his eyes. Pat didn’t know what his friend saw in them, but JR smiled and ruffled his hair. Great. Now he’d have to comb it all over again.  

“You’re welcome, Kevin Patrick. Now let’s get moving before Mom sends Dad up to see what’s keeping us.” 

The hell with his hair. That was something else about this family: they were never afraid to show affection, even to the kid everyone considered the Antichrist. 

“JR—” 

“Comb your hair, would you? We’ve got to get downstairs before Marti calls shotgun.” 

** 

As Theo drove to Maryland Avenue SW, he talked about what this year’s theme at the Botanic Garden was and what they were going to see. 

“That’s so cool!” JR could be as enthusiastic as his sister. “The class trip our sophomore year was to DC, and we got to see Arlington, the Smithsonian, the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, and we were even able to tour the White House. On the bus ride home we stopped at Gettysburg.”  

Pat hadn’t been able to go. His father had said he couldn’t afford it. But he could afford stopping at McCorley’s Pub every afternoon after work. Resentment, much? Yeah. Even though it was water under the bridge, and maybe someday he’d take a vacation and see everything JR had mentioned. And maybe he’d see even more: the Washington Monument, the theater where Lincoln was shot. The warehouse on the Patapsco River that was supposed to have a link to Robert E. Lee’s spy ring in the early days of the Civil War.  

“Marti, you’ll probably do that in a few years.” JR leaned forward and touched her shoulder. She was sitting next to Theo. She’d called shotgun just as they opened the door into Wills’s and Theo’s apartment. 

“Yes!” She bounced in her seat. 

“Okay, now, this is what we’ll do,” Theo said. “There’s metered parking a few blocks away from the Garden, but it’s too cold for Baby Bear to get wheeled that distance, so I’ll pull up by the entrance and take his stroller out of the trunk. JR, Pat, you get him out of his car seat.” 

 “What do I do?” Marti asked. 

“Keep an eye out for the fuzz.” JR tried to look serious, but Pat knew his friend too well. 

“Really?” His sister stared at him, her blue eyes enormous. 

“You bet, Marti. We’re depending on you to keep us from getting arrested when Theo parks in a No Parking Zone.” 

“Wow! Wait until I tell Dad!” 

“Uh… Marti, you’re not really gonna tell Dad, are you?” 

“I never keep anything from Daddy!” But there was a spark of deviltry in her eyes, and Pat bit back a snicker. It seemed she knew her brother as well as Pat did. 

“Marti, you take Baby Bear’s diaper bag, okay?” 

“Yes, Theo! John Robert could have told me that to begin with!” she said with a dignified huff. 

“Everyone knows their job, right? Okay, on my count!” Theo was having way too much fun with this. “One.”  He pulled up to the curb. “Two.” He put the car in park, and everyone unbuckled their seat belts. “Three!” He jumped out of the Dodge and ran around to the trunk. 

Marti tumbled out of the front seat, pulling the diaper bag with her and closing the door, while JR unfastened Baby Bear’s safety harness and Pat opened the passenger door. As soon as the baby was free, Pat grabbed him up and exited onto the curb. JR scrambled out behind him and slammed the door shut. 

Theo had the stroller opened and locked into position. He took Baby Bear from Pat’s arms, put him into the stroller, and made sure he was secure. 

“Okay, wait for me inside the Conservatory. I shouldn’t be too long.” He jogged back to the driver’s side, got into the Dodge, buckled up, and drove off. 

“We’d better hurry! It’s cold out here!” Marti, having designated herself the pusher, thrust the diaper bag into her brother’s arms and pushed the stroller toward the entrance to the Botanic Garden. 

“Y’know, we’re from Massachusetts. We shouldn’t be this bothered by the cold.” 

Pat glanced at JR from the corner of his eye. “Climate change? Remember what happened in The Day After Tomorrow?” They’d seen it together and had both kind of freaked out at the thought of being stranded in the north during a new ice age, with no food, heat, or way to get down to Mexico. Or the parts of Florida that hadn’t flooded due to torrential rains and rising sea levels. 

“Geez, Pat. Are you still having nightmares over that?” JR opened the door of the Conservatory and held it so Marti could maneuver the stroller inside. 

“I did not have nightmares!” Pat followed Marti and Baby Bear into the building. 

“Yeah, that’s why you tried to get Def to sleep in your room.” 

“Who’s Def?” 

Pat almost tripped over his feet as he whirled around. “Kit.” God, he looked even better than Pat remembered, and it was less than twenty-four hours since he’d seen him. 

“Should I be jealous?” 

“What? No! He’s a dog!” 

“Ah.” 

“This is Kit?” JR looked him up and down, then took a step closer.  

Pat held his breath. JR knew how Andy had hurt him. Was he going to give Kit the benefit of the doubt, or was he going to say something like, “You hurt him, and you’re dog meat, got that? I’ll feed you to Def!” 

He blew out the breath, seriously relieved, when JR held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Same here.” And Kit smiled easily. It didn’t look as if JR had pulled any macho bullshit like trying to crush the bones in his hand. 

Marti chimed in. “Hi Kit! I’m Marti! Are you Pat’s boyfriend?” 

“Hi Marti. What makes you think I’m Pat’s boyfriend?” 

“He’s been talking about you since he got here yesterday!”  

Pat covered his face with his palm. “Why isn’t there a sinkhole around when you need one?” 

She frowned, ignoring him. “Daddy said I can’t have a boyfriend until I’m thirty-five!” 

Kit laughed. “I’m sorry.” He stepped closer to Pat and said in a soft voice, “I like the idea of being your boyfriend. Of you being my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Christopher, you want to—” Two men joined Kit, and the taller one scowled as he took in Pat standing close to Kit. He gave JR, Marti, and Baby Bear a quick glance and then dismissed them. “What’s going on?” 

Pat’s brow furrowed. He recognized these men, and although it had been a couple of years since he’d seen the shorter one, Mr. Vincent, Wills’s boss, had been up in Cambridge this past August. He’d officiated at Wills’s and Theo’s wedding. 

“Mr. Vincent. Do you remember me? I’m Pat Mulcahy. Um… Damien?” 

Mr. Vincent’s scowl vanished, and he grinned at him. “I remember you, Pat. You played a wicked guitar at Theo’s wedding a few months ago. Matheson mentioned something about you playing at his son’s dedication ceremony tomorrow. I’m looking forward to hearing you play again.” 

“Oh… er… Thank you.” 

“Is that where we’re going tomorrow, Mark?” Kit asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Awesome sauce!” 

“Excuse me?”  

Pat covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, wondering if Kit would attempt to explain where he’d picked up the term. 

The door opened just then, and a burst of cold air swept through the entryway, followed by Theo, who announced, “Look who I found!” 

The rest of the family came trooping in, muttering about the cold. 

Theo gazed around curiously. “What’s going—Vince! Hi! Merry Christmas!” Theo pulled him into a hug and pounded his back.  

“Merry Christmas, Theo.” He patted his back with less force than Theo had used. 

“What are you doing here?”    

“I had to make sure my cousin wasn’t hooking up with some lowlife.” Mr. Vincent stepped back. 

“Your cousin?” 

He  nodded toward Kit. “Christopher Vincent.” 

“This is Kit, Theo,” Pat said. 

Theo studied him. “You’re Pat’s boyfriend?” 

“Everyone seems to think so.” Kit blushed, but he was grinning as well, pleased and happy and with a hint of pride. He took Pat’s hand and wound their fingers together. “So I guess I am.” 

“You and Pat Mulcahy?” Mr. Vincent seemed nonplussed for a moment. “God, it’s a small world.” He shook his head. “And I guess you’re already planning to register at Bed Bath & Beyond.” 

“Don’t you remember what it was like to be young and in love, Mark?” The other man—Pat knew he’d seen him at the reception when Wills and Theo got married for the first time two years ago, but he’d be darned if he could remember his name—brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes and smiled.

“I was never in love when I was young, Quinn. Now though…” 

Pat looked “Quinn” over carefully. He was shorter than Mr. Vincent and wore a black overcoat that announced this guy was no stranger to money. And he was blushing. 

 “You remember my significant other?” Mr. Vincent reached for his hand.  

“Uh….” 

“Mr. Vincent.” Wills came to stand beside Theo. “Mr. Mann. Merry Christmas. It’s good to see you again.” 

“Matheson. Merry Christmas.” He looked down at Baby Bear. “Is this your little boy?” 

“Yes. Teodore William, but we call him Baby Bear.”  

“He’s a very handsome boy.” He smiled. It was wistful, and if Pat wasn’t hopping up and down inside because his boyfriend was holding his hand, he’d have wondered about it. 

“You can’t tell with how he’s bundled up, but thank you.” Wills turned to the family. “This is my boss, Mr. Vincent, and his… his friend, Mr. Mann. They were at our wedding.” He glanced from his boss to Kit and back. “Kit.” 

“Hello, William.” 

“Your cousin, sir?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, that explains why I thought he looked familiar.” Wills cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to see you today, sir. Are you still coming to the ceremony tomorrow?” 

“Count on it.” 

“Excellent. So are you… uh… coming or going, sir?” 

“We just got here, but since I know Christopher will be in good hands, I’ll leave him with you. Mann and I have stuff to do. Christopher said you’ll feed him afterward?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Okay. Christopher, call me when you’re ready to come back to my place.” 

“Thank you, Mark. I’m sorry I ruined your plans for today.” 

“You just delayed them, that’s all. You ready to head to Arlington, Quinn?” 

“Yes, Mark. Mother and my uncles should be on their way. We’ll meet them in the parking lot, yes?” 

“All of them this year? Well, at least Novotny won’t be there.” 

“No, Mark.” Mr. Mann was biting back a laugh. “Merry Christmas, everyone.” 

“Merry Christmas!” 

“Well, let’s see what the Conservatory has to offer.” Jack unzipped Elf’s jacket. Under it was a tether, which gave Elf the illusion of freedom and his parents the certainty of security, knowing he couldn’t get further than four feet away from them. 

Theo unswaddled Baby Bear and held him, murmuring in his son’s ear.  

Wills took the diaper bag from JR and put it in the stroller. “Come on, babe.” He pushed the stroller with one hand, while he slid his other arm around Theo’s waist. 

“Let them go on ahead, all right, Pat?” 

“Sure.” 

JR turned around when he realized Pat wasn’t following. “What’s the holdup, Mulcahy?” 

“My shoelace broke. I’ve got to adjust it. We’ll catch up with you.” 

JR grinned, but he didn’t call Pat on the fact his loafers didn’t have laces. Pat would have to do something especially nice for him. He’d give it some thought. 

It wasn’t long before Pat and Kit were alone in the entryway. 

“I… uh… I’m sorry about my cousin.” 

“What about him?” 

“Going on about us being registered. I mean, is that lame or what?” Kit smiled, but Pat was no dummy. Kit’s smile was half-hearted. Did he want Pat to object, to tell him it wasn’t lame? Well, he liked Kit, and he could do that.  

“Actually, I think we should wait a few years before we make any announcements.” Pat ran his palm up and down Kit’s arm. “And if it comes to that, I’d rather be registered at CHEFS.” He could see Kit was curious, so he explained, “It has the best cookware, cutlery, you know—kitchen stuff. But other than that—”

The door opened, and a group of visitors came in, laughing and chatting. Pat dropped his hand and started to step back, but Kit stopped him. 

“Why don’t we see if we can find someplace less crowded?” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

They strolled in the opposite direction everyone else had gone in. 

“It is a small world, isn’t it? I mean, you’re my brother’s boss’s cousin.” 

“And you’re my cousin’s subordinate’s brother.” Kit smiled. 

“Let’s go outside.” 

“It’s kind of chilly.” 

“You noticed that too? Everyone’s been complaining....” No, Pat couldn’t let himself get distracted, not by anything that wasn’t Kit, at any rate. “So much the better if the temperature is around freezing. There won’t be a lot of people around.”  

“Oh? Ah! Got it.” Kit opened the door and let Pat exit before him. 

This might not have been the brightest idea. It was cold, his nose felt like it was going to fall off any second, and his hands were freezing. Why hadn’t he thought to bring a ski mask or a pair of gloves? Before he could stuff his hands into his pockets, Kit caught one and tugged him to the left. 

It was too cold to continue strolling, so they walked briskly past the Butterfly Garden. They paused at the First Ladies Water Garden. 

“I wish it was warmer,” Pat said. “I want to rub my hands over your body.” 

Kit shivered. “Do you really?” 

“Yes.” 

Kit opened his jacket and tugged his shirttails out of his trousers. “Please.” 

“My hands are too cold.” 

Kit took them and blew on them. “Not too cold now.” 

Pat shivered himself as he slid his hands under Kit’s shirt and felt Kit’s nipples harden under his palms. 

“Kiss me, Pat. Please kiss me.” 

“Yes!”  

Kit’s lips were cold, but Pat quickly warmed them with his own with little sipping kisses. He slid an arm around Kit’s back, drew him closer, and nuzzled the spot under his ear.  

“We’ll see each other when we get back to Massachusetts?” 

“Yes.” Pat smiled when the warmth of his breath raised goosebumps on Kit’s neck.  

“I wish....” 

“What do you wish, babe?” 

Kit nestled against him. “Do you know, my girlfriend never called me any pet names.” 

“Some people just aren’t comfortable doing that.” 

“You’re a good man.” 

“Huh?” 

“You could have said she was a bitch.” 

She was, but Pat wasn’t going to say that. It would cast aspersions on Kit’s choice of a loved one. “Never mind. Tell me what you wish.” 

“That we could spend some time alone. I mean this is nice, but anyone could walk up and get all huffy because we’re two guys and we’re kissing.” 

“Kit, I’ll give you that alone time. After dinner, I’ll take you up to the apartment I’m staying in.” Shit, was that coming on too strong? “That is... ” 

Kit rested a cold palm against his cheek. “I’d like that. But won’t your family be upset?” 

“No. I... I was hoping you’d want to hang out with me.” He’d talked to Wills and Theo, since it was their place, and JR, since they were sharing the apartment. “How long do you think you can stay?” 

“Mark said he’d be visiting with Quinn’s family in Great Falls, so probably until eight or nine. If that’s okay?”  

“That’s more than okay.” Pat stepped back, looked into Kit’s hazel eyes, and cupped his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For giving me the best Christmas ever.” 

“So far.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“So far,” Kit said again patiently. “With so many Christmases ahead of us, there are bound to be some that are even better.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Awesome sauce!” Pat pressed a quick kiss to Kit’s mouth and smiled into his eyes.  

He didn’t think anything could top this Christmas, but he was willing to go along with Kit’s assertion—it meant he saw a future together. 

They turned and walked back toward the Conservatory, making plans for this evening and tomorrow... and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. 

Baby Bear’s Medley

Slipping Through My Fingers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNaNVuWes_U

Turn Around: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTL-fwRsEdc

All Through the Night: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g64rWSPOyOU

What a Wonderful World: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nYWMhzIRzuU

Teddy Bears Picnic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uxFIGWm9M6w

Going Home: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJFhTb1gi6Y