Season of Gifts (Neighborly Affection #8)

43. Alice

Chapter forty-three

Alice

F our and a half days. She’d left in a frenzied rush Monday morning, and it was one-oh-seven precisely Friday afternoon when the front door accepted Alice’s key and welcomed her home again. She sagged against the door, shoving it closed with her back as her roller bag thunked on the tile.

Henry had gotten Ollie a new luggage set for Christmas. Or he’d meant to, at least. She’d have to check with him on whether that had happened before—just before. The before time, when they’d been giddy on the highs of a new house and a newly minted marriage, and Henry, in consultation with her and Jay, had decided that travel pieces would be his gifts for Ollie and Nat this year, to remind them that they could visit at any time and be received with love.

The love part was key. Travel was fucking exhausting. She’d bolted out of bed at three in the morning to silence her alarm, shower, and swipe a bagged Danish and a banana from the hotel’s complimentary breakfast space, which wouldn’t have hot food until she was two hours in flight. Worth every minute of lost sleep, though. And the play-by-play from Wade about Adam’s dressing-down in front of the bigwigs made for satisfying in-flight entertainment.

Packing would be first—no, second. First would be lining up a rental car, because they sure as hell wouldn’t be ridesharing three hours up the highway.

But oh God, first first: home . Walking into a place she belonged, with people who loved her—nothing matched that comfort. The air smelled right, the tree and all the swags they’d hung so like Jay, fresh and crisp and embracing her. In a crouch, she unzipped the roller bag’s big pocket and slopped dirty clothes out the side, digging for treasures.

The shoebox of ornaments had survived the trip. She toed off her shoes and dashed into the living room.

She spun lazily to the wall, Henry’s low rumble scolding her in her head for running, half-dancing as she reached for the cord for the lights. With plug and socket wedded, the tree lit up. So what if it was daytime outside? The cheer in the house multiplied tenfold with that white-gold glow.

Jay must’ve been tending the tree every day. No needles on the skirt, and he’d stashed a little dustpan and brush in the back corner. Plenty of water to keep the limbs high and the needles green. She breathed deep. Evergreen peace filled her lungs. A few more hours and she’d have the man herself in her arms. A mental list ready to praise him couldn’t hurt.

The space underneath the tree sat empty, and her shoebox didn’t do much to fill it. She could add her ornaments to the tree after the holiday, when they all came home together. But they would take their gifts to Maine. Probably? Shit, she needed to wrap hers—that would go on the to-do list, too. Jay could wrap his after he got home, if he needed to. Well, and after her plans for him. He would see that he was first on her list. Which left Henry’s gifts, and those might or might not be wrapped, and he might or might not want them opened in front of his family.

Another thing to ask Henry when she called him. Only not yet, because calling him after she’d made the car reservation would be so much more definitive than calling and suggesting it first. Jay needed his dominants, and they needed him, even when they were too stubborn or self-sacrificing to admit it. And she’d promised him they would make the drive tonight.

Passing through the dining room, she ran her fingers along her childhood photos on the mantel. In those brief hours before Dad ruined things, she’d understood Mom better. Let the happy memories slip out of hiding. Those days weren’t figments of her imagination. Mom remembered them too, and here were the photos to prove they existed.

“Still have work to do there.” And she would have to tell Ollie about the visit sooner rather than later. But not until she told Henry, and that would not be happening over the phone. She needed the love and understanding in his eyes and his firm embrace and even the warning that she should have brought the question to him first, before spur-of-the-moment going to see her parents. Plus, she had travel to plan. “Priorities, Allie-girl.”

Instead of fretting about the cost of a rental car—okay, yikes, yes, astronomical to get an open-ended anything the Friday before Christmas, but that was fine. It was a necessary expense. She digitally signed the paperwork on her phone. The confirmation arrived as she was sizing up dinner options.

Practically nothing in the fridge. Bare shelves and a nearly empty carton of eggs.

“What have you been eating, stud? Scrambled eggs for every meal?” Not great. Fuck, if this had unfolded any other way—but it hadn’t. They would create an emergency plan in case it ever happened again, because failure was nothing more than a step on the trial-and-error path to success. By tonight this situation would be two-thirds fixed, and once they reconnected with Henry, they could all work together to solve the lingering issues around Mother’s health.

Dinner for tonight, that went on the to-do list. Something nourishing and quick, so they could get on the road and Jay wouldn’t be starving again an hour later. Takeout, because depending on her cooking would be a dicey proposition, and then there would be dishes, and—takeout, yes. Fantastic. The decision train was rolling.

She lugged her carry-on up the stairs and into the bedroom, emptying it almost straight into the hamper system. The bags hung slack; Jay must’ve done laundry last night after their call. Smart man. Another for the praise list.

The bed whispered an enticing lullaby, promising the best sleep she’d had since Sunday. No time for a nap. But a few minutes. She rolled onto the comforter and pulled half of it around her, snugging it like a sleeping bag. The bed added Jay’s earthy maleness to the evergreen. Planting her face in the pillow, she breathed in and out, in and out, in and—

“Oh no you don’t. Not falling for that, sneaky brain.” Fighting heavy limbs and sagging eyelids, she forced herself out of the cocoon and shook her head side to side. A shower later would help her wake up. And food. Snack, pack, shower. Her second of the day, but this one would come with benefits.

She almost made it to the stairs. Hand on the railing, because her stomach was growling and her brain was sleepy and the logical answer was something from the pantry. But the playroom door was open, and her heart told logic to fuck right off.

Slipping inside, she shivered with a wave of belonging. The coffee table kept its folded-in secrets. A floor pillow rested in front of the leather chair, two grooves dimpling the fabric with the imprint of Jay’s waiting pose. She’d convinced herself that she and Jay had hardly left a mark on the new house yet, but that wasn’t true. The signs lay everywhere, and coming home to them made them so much more powerful.

Jay’s new collar and cuffs sat in a display box like a jeweler’s signature piece. Simple, elegant—so very Henry that she nearly dropped to her knees in the place Jay had prepared. What a temptation the gift must have been for him. He’d opened the gift… Monday night? The days had run together like sidewalk chalk in the rain. To have Henry’s ownership so close and not be able to wear it?

“Fuck.” She could’ve fixed that. Not with the new gift, but she could have gotten an okay from Henry to order Jay to wear his harness each night. For an hour, maybe. Told him to towel off well, and don his harness, and wear it through dinner. Kneel in their shrine and come for her. “Why do I never fucking think of these things at the right time?”

Henry would’ve done a better job—but he hadn’t either. In some ways, sure. She’d only thought of teasing Jay the other morning because he’d told her about Henry’s delicious reward for finding his gift and the opportunity was there. But she and Henry had both been distracted with their own shit, and neither of them had created a consistent long-distance routine for Jay. No wonder he’d been despondent yesterday. They’d made promises a month ago and had already fallen short.

Imperfect love. Henry had taught her such a thing existed. The effort mattered, and the sincerity mattered, and they would both apologize to Jay.

He’d shown her another gift, one for her. In a bottom drawer…

Leaving the collar and cuffs untouched, she stalked to the dresser and crouched at the center. Her tug on the handles rolled the drawer out with the faintest rasp of wood on wood, a rough whisper of delights to come. The gift bag bore a tag with her name on the drawstring. She could pick it up, take the bag off, see the shape—

“But is that the experience I want?” She tipped her head against the drawers, staring down, considering. They wouldn’t get to play with the gifts until after Christmas no matter what. She had big things to talk with Henry about when she called him. Throwing the gift into the pot meant she wouldn’t be able to think about one without the other. Did she want to burden some new toy with that feeling? Her sigh hollowed out her belly. “I can wait. It’s not like this is going anywhere.”

Which was…true. She slid the drawer closed. They would have other years for a perfect run-up to Christmas. Hell, they could make it bigger and better every year, the way Jay’s casual mention of mirror sex had kicked off the journey that led to buying this house. Henry didn’t do things in half-measures.

She left the playroom behind. Unlikely that anything in there would go on the packing list, though Henry’s room in Maine was at the opposite end of the hall from his mother’s, and it did have its own bathroom. Still. Small and quiet would serve them better than odd noises that invited investigation.

Her feet drove her up the stairs instead of down, carried her to their bedroom shrine. The four walls sang of love. She wouldn’t have time for a full room check tonight, but she could hardly fault Jay for the rumpled comforter. She’d left one just like it in their bedroom downstairs. His wish book hung over the edge of the nightstand; maybe he’d been coming up here to write out his homework.

Shit, should that go in the bag for Maine? She needed to pack for her and Jay for a week up there, and fresh clothes for Henry, and the gifts, too, but she’d have to locate his first. It was time to call him. To stop nervously avoiding it, because she’d been Team Henry for the last two weeks, backing his every decision, and now she was flat-out overruling him. But her decision was in Jay’s best interest, and it would be in Henry’s, too, regardless of what he might think about that today. In a medical crisis, moods could shift on the wind. She would have to be compassionate but firm.

“We are going to Maine.” Louder, for the origami cats in the back. “We are going to Maine.”

She lay back on the bed. This room was hers; she was the dominant here. Tonight, she and Henry and Jay would share a bed again. Not even necessarily for sex—for the connection they all needed to reforge.

Rolling to her hip, she slipped her phone from her pocket. Two taps and the line was ringing. And ringing. Four times, maybe his voicemail would—

“Alice? Is something the matter?” Noise cluttered Henry’s end of the call, an indistinct cacophony not unlike the break room of a factory floor while folks waited around for a test to go well.

“No, I just need to talk to you about plans. Where are you?” Please let him not be in the emergency room again. Please let Mother—

“In line for goose, amusingly enough.” His sigh sounded anything but amused. “The butcher is frightfully busy before the holiday. I do believe there’s a brawl happening over a cut of prime rib. I apologize, dearest, but might I call you back when I’ve finished with errands?”

She curled her knees up toward her chest. “I think so?” She’d have to hustle to pack, and she needed to take care of a few errands herself. If she started with wrapping gifts and grabbing takeout to reheat, maybe... “Will you be done by three or four, you think? It’s time-sensitive.”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t anticipate being free until after dinner. We may talk now, if you’ll pardon any interruptions. Unless the topic is of a personal nature?”

Would Henry consider discussing the contents of their closet too personal for public consumption? Only one way to find out.

“It’s just the rental car will get dropped off by five-thirty, and I need to know what to pack for a week in Maine.” She wrapped one hand around a headboard spindle and held tight, the phone gripped in her other hand. “You don’t have to waste your whole day tomorrow to fetch us. Jay and I are driving up tonight.”

A fit of coughing and vague shouting answered her.

“You’re doing what?” Henry’s staccato tone might have been irritation, but it could’ve been enunciation, too, trying to be heard in a noisy shop. Her timing had landed a little left of desirable . Might’ve ticked to a stop on unfavorable .

“Driving up tonight to make things easier.” She raised her voice. Background noise would be the best possible world answer. She’d just thrown a curve ball at a cautious planner, and she had no intention of taking it back. She’d have to sprint to first base to be safe. “Jay really, really needs you. I haven’t seen him yet—he’s still working—but just the way he’s been all week. I’m sorry, Henry. I wish I’d been able to say no to the work trip, but it was…”

All kinds of problematic. She had so much to tell him—her parents, Adam’s obnoxious puppet-mastering, the possible lateral shift at work so this wouldn’t happen again. “Complicated. I’ll tell you the whole mess tonight if you want. We all just need to be together.”

He still hadn’t said anything.

Maybe she was sliding headfirst into the bag and a face full of dust. “So let me know what kind of clothes we should bring, and if there’s anything specific you want, and I was thinking gifts? I doubt you want me to bring whatever you have in the playroom—I didn’t open it, because I’m your good girl—but I thought I’d bring mine for you and Jay, and I’m sure he has some for us, but I don’t know where you’re hiding yours or if you want me to—”

“A moment, please.” His end of the call quieted. Muffled, competing with a scratchy rustle that was probably his winter coat, he spoke to someone else. “…order for Webb, thank you. Christmas goose and…”

Of course Henry’s day was busy; Mom’s days had been extra-busy at the beginning too, back when Dad’s hope hadn’t drained away under a flood of oxy. She shoved back hard against the urge to apologize and hang up. He was short, sure, because he was under stress, but he was still making time to coordinate with her so they could give Jay the best Christmas possible despite all the shit this month had thrown at them. She wouldn’t even be bothering him with the packing questions except she didn’t want to embarrass him with the wrong clothes in front of his brother’s family or make Jay feel awkward and out of place because of something she chose.

She fluffed the pillow under her head, punching her arm underneath. Tonight they would have shoulders for pillows, and that would go a long way toward making things right again. If she stayed here much longer, she’d fall asleep. That would fuck the plan for the rest of the night. She ordered her legs to go get her a snack; their reply sounded an awful lot like you’re not the boss of me.

“Except I am,” she mumbled. She swung them over the side and sat up. “Lots more to do today.” A push against the mattress got her to her feet. Couldn’t fault the amount of stair-climbing exercise she got at home. Down one, two, three—

“Alice? My apologies.” Henry’s voice came through clearer, the background noise absent. “I’ve reached the car. Are you in the bedroom or prepared to write a packing list?”

Four-five-six-seven—her heels thudded on the steps, a drumbeat racing her toward the goal. “Bedroom.”

“Are you panting?” He dropped into his curious-stern dangerous voice. Guess she was going to get that chiding for running in the house after all. “Have you been using your time on hold to entertain yourself in our bed, sweet girl, or are you lying to me about being in the bedroom? I’ve asked you not to lie, even about the most trivial of things.”

Wincing as she crossed the threshold into the bedroom, she silently pleaded with him to forgive the bigger secrets later. Lies of omission, with the best of intentions. “In the bedroom now, I swear. There was just a staircase between me and it. I wish it had been the first option, though.”

“Thank you, Alice. All right. You’ll want…”

He rattled off her packing list at the speed of light. Started with the right size bags, and named shirts and pants and skirts exactly, with detailed colors and fasteners, and he could tell her exactly where they’d be on the rods and shelves. She was standing in the damn closet where the clothes lived, and she couldn’t do what he was doing. She threw things over her arm until the weight got too much, then tossed those onto the bed and went back for more. His packages were even wrapped, fetched from one of the built-in cabinets in the playroom and already in two big sacks for transport. Those she hauled to the top of the stairs; she and Jay could take them down to the car later.

“—and of course comfortable clothes to wear about the house for you both. Allow Jay to choose his pajamas, please; he’ll need something he can don quickly just in case.”

He didn’t say in case of what, but it didn’t take more than two brain cells to think about how Henry had casually mentioned the “overnight incident” that had sent them back to the emergency room. Being able to jump out of bed and call for an ambulance without searching for clothes could matter. “How is Mother doing?”

Henry’s end of the call went silent for the first time in many minutes.

She slumped down beside the pile of clothes; a pair of rolled socks tumbled off the bed. “Has there been another setback?”

“No, no.” His answer came quick, reassuring, but his pause and breath afterward signaled something off. She hadn’t hit on the right question.

He cleared his throat. “Mother is finishing her rehabilitation session. Today is a long day of appointments, but we’ve been in to see the doctor, and Mother is doing well. I am attempting to accomplish the errands while she is with the care team. It will be past teatime before we’re home.”

“Don’t feel like you have to do anything for me and Jay.” She would cut herself walking the knife edge between what each of her husbands needed. “I’ve already made dinner plans for us, and we can’t get there before nine at the earliest. We just really want to be there with you. We’ve missed you, Henry.”

“Yes, the separation has been a strain. I will see you both tonight. Please be careful on the drive.”

Distant, distracted—that wasn’t Henry even on a bad day. But this was day thirteen of a string of bad days for him. Her shoulders prickled. Normally she would avoid engaging, play it off like she didn’t care either. But she was going to do better. Be better. “We will. I love you.”

“And I you. Until tonight.”

“Until tonight.”

The call blipped out. She blew out a long breath. A million things could have been influencing his mood. He didn’t have to throw away energy on proving his enthusiasm. Once she and Jay got there, he would see how much better that was. How his stress melted away in an embrace. If they couldn’t fix the problem, they could make dealing with it bearable.

“Time to get started.” In the next three hours, she needed to pack these clothes in their duffels, wrap her gifts, order dinner, send some texts, run an errand, and do a little prep work for Jay’s room check reward.

She yawned, her mouth gaping like the Grand Canyon, and her stomach rumbled.

“Right. Snack first. I’ll sate that other hunger later.”