Season of Gifts (Neighborly Affection #8)

23. Henry

Chapter twenty-three

Henry

“H ello!” The house swallowed Henry’s greeting, eerily hollow for a Saturday afternoon. “Hello?”

He absentmindedly shut the door behind him, struck by the empty hooks where Alice and Jay’s coats belonged. “Out for groceries, are you?”

He hung his own winter coat, smoothing the folds more than strictly necessary, and laid his gloves neatly on the shelf above. His sudden chill couldn’t be blamed on the house; it was merely the temperature of his expectations falling. Three hours in the car foolishly envisioning a joyous reunion, the surprise and delight on their faces, the precious time together after a week apart, built up an unreasonable demand.

They would be home soon enough, and he well knew the satisfaction of patience. Leaving his overnight bag at the foot of the stairs, he paused in the living room and lit the tree. Better. An opening gambit to make the house warmer and more welcoming—the home he’d been missing.

His gift calendar sat on the dining room table, the basket more than half empty already. The envelope marked 14 rested on the tablecloth in front, the red wax seal unstuck and propping it up at a lopsided angle. He creased the edge between his fingernails, flattening the flap. The toothy texture of the heavyweight cardstock invigorated his nerve endings, inviting his fingers to seek out a sketchbook. He’d taken none to Mother’s house, done no work in the past week, instructed Elliott to respond to any clients who inquired about the delay. Nothing remained due before Christmas, thankfully; those pieces had been delivered well in advance.

A jaunty coil of scarf and mittens spilling over a line of musical notes formed today’s image. He’d intended to take his spouses out for a festive public singalong before dinner. Where once the mounting losses would have burned, he now registered only a dull ache. He traced the edge of the card. Evens today. Alice would have been the one to reveal the message, to hold it just so. He tipped it back into position. “Next year.”

Many things would be deferred until next year.

In the kitchen, the sink and counters remained well in order. Jay and Alice had been managing—hmm. The refrigerator held multiple takeout containers and no signs of preparation for today’s meal. No fresh fruit, no vegetables in the crisper. The longer he stayed in Maine, the worse their health and habits would become. Jay knew better than to ride without proper nutrition; he burned an excessive number of calories daily.

If only Henry could paint a doppelganger that might step off the canvas and allow him to be in two places simultaneously.

The house stayed stubbornly silent but for the slight creaking of the heating system. He toted his bag upstairs. The playroom stood closed. The bedroom proffered rumpled sheets and achingly familiar scents, Jay’s deep evergreen sweetened with Alice’s honey, both brightened with a touch of citrus. The room at his mother’s house had once been his childhood bedroom, but only this room smelled like home.

One pillow bore two imprints, as clear a sign as any that his spouses were turning to each other for solace.

He collapsed more than sat, the bed obligingly catching him. Surely he’d earned a moment’s indulgence. The long drive had renewed his headache; the pillow promised aromatherapy to cure it. With his eyes closed, he might imagine his loves beside him. Could he but wick the unending energy from Jay, the dispassionate logic from Alice, he would have all he needed to accomplish his aims. What a lovely dream that would be.

Too warm. Henry stretched his legs, hunting for a cool space to press his feet. Why the devil had he worn socks to bed—

Jolting upright, he blinked away the daze. The angle of the light through the windows had shifted. The bedside clock blatantly lied to him. He fumbled for the watch on his wrist, only compounding the horror.

Two hours.

He’d lost every minute he’d so carefully carved out for Alice and Jay. By the time he reached Augusta, Lina would have been at Mother’s side for more than eight hours—far beyond a small favor. She had a daughter, and grandchildren, and Christmas preparations of her own to attend to.

Yanking the bureau open more firmly than necessary, he began refilling his bag with casual, easy-clean shirts. Slacks, underthings, refreshed toiletries, a sketchbook and small travel case of pencils, pens, and inks—he zipped the bag shut. His phone was in his coat pocket downstairs.

If Alice and Jay had tried to contact him—

If Mother’s condition had worsened—

The thud of shoes filtered up from the floor below.

“—positive that’s his car.” The door shut on Alice’s words.

“And his coat.” Jay grew in volume as something clattered on the tile. “He’s here. He’s—Henry? Henry! We’re here, are you here?”

Running footsteps, though not up the stairs. To the kitchen, perhaps. He swung his bag over his shoulder and walked at what one might uncharitably call a dash, though he did not dash in the house. “I am most certainly present, and overjoyed—”

Halfway down the stairs, he nearly crashed into Jay speeding his way up and received an embrace so powerful his ribs ached. Burying his face against Jay’s neck, he inhaled deeply. “I missed you as well, my boy.”

He kissed Jay with what energy he could spare, a pale imitation of his usual vigor. Attempting to surprise his spouses had been a costly mistake. He should have informed them of his intention last night. Such mistakes weren’t like him. And now was not the time to be making them. Compounding them. Why hadn’t he called when he’d found the house empty?

“I’m so glad you’re home.” Jay lifted the bag strap from Henry’s shoulder, yet he felt no lighter. “I can take this upstairs for you while you settle in.”

A slow blink couldn’t delay the inevitable for long. Two hours he could have had. His inadequacies cost him dearly. A full night of sleep would help. But even when Mother slept, he awakened three, four times a night, jarred by some instinct to listen to her breath, to assure himself she remained among the living.

“Downstairs, I’m afraid.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Alice waited with crossed arms atop the newel post. She turned from his gaze, a series of far more rapid blinks matching her minuscule nods.

“Down?” The bag landed heavily on Jay’s shoulder, and he sagged before righting himself. He swallowed hard. “Out to the car?”

“I’ve a few minutes yet.” The cheer in his voice came out brittle as peppermint bark. “Tell me what I’ve missed.” An enormous quantity of shopping bags carpeted the entryway. Not one appeared to be groceries. “I see you’ve had a successful excursion.”

“For the kids.” Jay clamped their hands together as he reversed course down the stairs. “Me and Peggy not speaking doesn’t mean my nieces and nephews shouldn’t get their gifts from Uncle Jay this year. Your card this morning said spreading holiday cheer, and Alice asked if I’d gone shopping yet, and I…” Shrugging, Jay shook his head. “I forgot.”

“You’ve had an unprecedented amount of upheaval in recent weeks.” He smoothed his thumb across the back of Jay’s hand, memorizing the texture of his skin, each ridge of tendon and knuckle. “It’s not unreasonable to expect something might have been missed.” If only he could absolve himself so easily. “You’ll ship them Monday?”

“Oh, no, I’ll take ’em to lunch tomorrow. Gotta get everything wrapped tonight.” Jay’s heel skidded on the final step; he caught himself with a crow hop. “I mean, unless you want us to go up with you tonight. I can cancel lunch.”

Alice watched Henry with too-sharp eyes. The tight corners of her mouth proved she knew his words before he spoke them.

“I wish I could take you with me, Jay. It’s simply not the right time yet.” Calm and quiet, life moving at a slower pace, that was what the doctor had suggested. He couldn’t risk Jay’s enthusiasm overwhelming Mother. Mediating that peace would exhaust him, and he was already so very tired. Alice had a full week of work before her holiday vacation began; she couldn’t accompany him to assist, and asking would unfairly burden her as well. “Mother needs a good deal of rest, and she’ll be beginning a rehabilitation program Monday. Much as I would love to have you with me, I must focus on managing her care.”

“But she’s okay, right?” Jay rocked side to side, his sneakers thudding on the tile with metronomic exactitude. “You said they let her come home. I bet the house isn’t even decorated yet. I could take care of the plants, and put up all the lights, and—”

“I love you for offering.” Pressing his free hand to Jay’s cheek, he spread his fingers and rubbed his temple. “I appreciate the many things you wish to do.” Jay’s dark eyes tempted him to stay, to set aside other responsibilities and claim what sliver of serenity he could. “Mother is doing well, and she’ll be stronger in time.” But not if he failed to pay attention. All of his loved ones needed his keen mind functioning at its full capacity. “Who are you having lunch with?”

“Kevin.” Jay rocked to a stop and leaned into Henry’s hold. “He’s gonna make room in his car to take my gifts up to the farm.”

“That’s wonderful, Jay.” He combed back Jay’s hair, a ritual for them both, a smooth stroke on a clean canvas. “You and your brother are developing a lovely friendship.”

Head dipping, Jay smiled. “Alice thought of it. It’s been ages since I’ve been to his house, and she’s never been.”

A fresh gash opened in the canvas. The strike scored Henry’s chest, a flare of throbbing warning at a distance. “You’re meeting for lunch at his home?”

“Yup, the whole family, him and his wife and my nephews.”

The wife who listened too much to Jay’s odious eldest sister, by her husband’s own admission. Alice had thought this a fine idea? Exposing their beloved Jay to possible condemnation and verbal abuse in the midst of all the other—

“Henry, are your keys in your coat pocket?” Alice stared straight at him, her voice too clipped for welcome home . “Maybe you want Jay to take the bag out for you, and you and I can fill you a water bottle. We don’t want to hold you up.” Her mouth softened; a tiny twitch pulled at her cheek. “Are you running against a nursing shift clock?”

“A generous family friend whose kindness I don’t wish to abuse.” How quickly wariness settled in his skin. He ought to have been prepared for Alice’s distance; what she’d witnessed in childhood would have laid templates in her mind, patterns easily returned to in times of stress. “Keys in the pocket, yes, thank you, Alice.”

Jay reluctantly released his hand, tangling their fingers in several configurations before allowing the hold to break. “Sure, I’m on it. Be right back.”

The house grew hollow again. Or perhaps his heart did, marking another loss, shaving off thin slices until the remnants wouldn’t sustain him. “You believe this luncheon a wise decision?”

Alice ferried shopping bags into the living room. “He needs— we need—to be doing something useful. I know things are difficult right now. I know that.” The bags dropped to the coffee table as he followed her. Curling her arms around herself, she stepped away from him. Last week standing in the same spot she’d begged him to be closer, deeper. “But you’re a better communicator than this, Henry. Please don’t shut us out. Your mother loves Jay. He would be so careful with her; you know he would. Don’t assume you have to do everything yourself.”

Everything himself? He’d left his mother in Lina’s care for a full day in the hopes of a few short hours with his loves. Prioritized their needs, their wants, over her health. “Shutting people out and insisting upon operating independently sounds much more indicative of someone else’s behavior.”

“And you spent the last year teaching me to do better. So learn from your own advice.” She slammed her hand against the mantel. “ Fuck .”

The front door opened and shut. “Bag’s in the—” Jay stepped toward the living room and curved gracefully back into the hall. “I’ll get you a snack for the car.”

The interruption pierced the hostility bristling in him, revealed the tension in his hands, the tightness in his chest. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t intended to respond combatively. His anger was for himself, for his poor planning, for the foggy mind he hadn’t the time to coddle. He dropped his voice to a quiet plea. “Alice—”

“This isn’t us.” She held her hands in prayer, narrow edge at her nose, thumbs at her lips, her eyes closing. “I know this road, and I don’t want this to be us.” Flattening her hands against her face, she scrubbed her eyes. “Can we start over? Do you have time for that?”

He wrapped her in his arms, his breaths shuddering with hers. She swept her arms around his neck, clinging violently, as if she might embed herself in him and thus keep him here.

The ice had grown quite thin beneath them. One week, and he’d missed the signs of Alice’s anger and Jay’s hunger for connection. Spending a night in his own bed would benefit all three of them. If he only could.

His phone buzzed from the hall; that would be Lina’s hourly update.

“I have time for this.” He returned Alice’s ferocity, digging his hands into her back. “Just this, sweet girl. I’m sorry.” A proper impact play session could have helped both of them work through such complicated emotions. And he’d squandered the opportunity. He could not afford to make those mistakes. “I will, in fact, do better.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She pressed frantic kisses to his throat, beneath his jaw, along his carotid. “I’m frustrated, and I’m taking it out on you, and that’s not helpful.” She whispered between kisses, her voice thick, her apologies ones that ought to have been his. “I’m trying to be you, but I’m not. But I will make sure Jay is okay. You don’t have to worry about him.”

“But I do.” Drawing back, he held her still. He kissed the soft skin in front of her ear. “That’s who I am, Alice.” The delicate bridge of her nose. “I worry about you, and about Jay, and about my mother, and”—the outer corner of her eye, with her lashes fluttering against his mouth—“I am aware that every day I am failing each of you in some fashion.”

She gasped, her body tensing. “You—”

He claimed her mouth, gently, letting another language speak his promises to her. He would find a solution. Mother was recovering. In a few days he might have nursing coverage. Jay and Alice could join him. They would have Christmas together as planned, with a few modifications. This could be rectified; it was a mogul, not a mountain entire.

The flowing whoosh of the kitchen tap reached his ears, then cut off. He released Alice, the two of them sighing in unison, gazes softer now. Clearer.

She tilted her head and laughed lightly. He glanced over his shoulder.

Jay stood propped against the kitchen island, a travel mug and a veritable mountain of snacks beside him. “You seemed busy with other work. I could fill two more of these, you know.”

“Soon,” he murmured, waving Jay nearer. “When I’m certain Mother is well enough, I will call for you on a moment’s notice, my dear ones. And we will all be healthier for it.”