Chapter 16
C hristmas day dawned bright and cold. A glance out the window showed why it was so bright. Hickory Hollow was dusted in snow. Just enough to line roofs and branches and barely enough to cover the grass. The roads were still clear, though they looked wet. This was the kind of snow I could handle. It wouldn’t stay that way. In another week or two we’d be battling inches, possibly feet, at a time. But it was a really pretty sight to wake up to on Christmas morning.
Morgan and I exchanged gifts over coffee, still wearing our Santa llama pajamas. I’d been at a loss as to what to get him until I stumbled back into Holloway Glassworks the other day. A piece I hadn’t noticed before almost immediately caught my eye. A sphere about twelve inches wide, with swirling colors inside. When I got closer and really looked, it was clearly four distinct section. Each one had the same shaped tree, but the colors connected to it clearly represented the distinct seasons. Greens for spring, blue and yellow for summer, orange, red, and brown for fall, and white, gray, and very light blue for winter. I knew I had to get it for him.
Morgan’s eyes went wide as he took it in, then scrunched together as he fought tears. He tipped his head back and breathed through his nose to try to stop them, but he wasn’t entirely successful.
“You’re a jerk for making me cry on Christmas.” He sniffled, wiped his nose on his sleeve which honestly was a little gross, and then stared in awe for at least ninety more seconds. Then he looked at me. “This had to cost a fortune.”
I wasn’t going to tell him how much, but yeah, it had been expensive. Totally worth it though. I shrugged. “It reminded me of you.”
There went the tears again. He very carefully set the art piece down and walked away. I leaned forward so I could watch him. He blew his nose twice, grabbed another tissue and mopped his face, and then he ran back to me, threw himself in my arms, and kissed my face off.
“You’re not a jerk. That’s the sweetest thing ever. I will cherish it always.”
“Good.” I kissed him one more time and shuffled him off my lap and back to his seat. “My turn?”
“Mine doesn’t seem as good now,” he grumbled playfully. “I thought I was going to win Christmas.”
I laughed from my toes and made a gimme motion with my fingers. He handed over the package, perfectly wrapped with a bow and everything. Of course he was good at that too.
I carefully peeled the tape, not wanting to ruin his hard work, then slid the box out of the wrapping. I lifted the lid to reveal two items. The first was multi-tool that did over a dozen different things. I played with it for a second, folding out all the different accessories. When I flipped it over, I saw that he’d had one of the handles engraved with “Mr. Fix it.”
“This is awesome,” I told him, folding it back up. I could carry it in any pocket, so I’d always have something at the ready. I looked up, ready to kiss him as a thank you, but he was pinching his lip between finger and thumb and bouncing his leg. He was clearly nervous. Which meant whatever was still in the box had him on edge.
I bit the bullet and peeled back the tissue paper. It took me a second to recognize what I was seeing. It was a shadow box with an American flag folded properly at the bottom. But above that was more. My history with the Marines. Not just my service ribbons, but my combat action ribbon, Iraq campaign medal, Marine Corp medal, and Navy Cross.
“You’re so proud of your service. And you should be. The Marines made you who you are and I just thought…” He fidgeted and leaned closer, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the box. “Arlo helped. He was sneaky. And they’re just pinned into the backboard, so if you need to take them out, you just have to open it up. Maybe you can hang it on the wall with your sword.”
He ended with a laugh that sounded forced and a little high. The sound broke through my stupor and I set the box down. I grabbed him so hard he “eeped” but then I was hugging him so tightly he probably couldn’t breathe.
That suspicion was confirmed a minute later when he wheezed out, “You like it then? I didn’t overstep.”
“No.” I cleared my throat. Somehow my feelings got stuck there and I had to shake them loose. I kissed his cheek and finally let him go. The big breath he took, expanding his lungs, was sort of funny. “This is very thoughtful and I appreciate it more than I can say. Thank you for thinking of it and for putting it together.”
“You’re very welcome.” He traced a thumb over my eyebrow. “Now, I hate to say it, but if we don’t get a move on, we’re going to be late. And I know you hate that. So finish your coffee while I shower and get dressed, and then we’ll go. Okay?”
I nodded, lifted my chin for another kiss, which he bestowed, before he sauntered away.
I looked back at the box, my mind spinning. How did he know me so well, after just a couple of short weeks? We’d spent a lot of time together, but for him to know how much this would mean to me? To take the time to put it together? I was honored.
And just last night, he’d known exactly what to say to soothe my raw edges. He always knew when a change of subject was the right move. His joy was infectious, and his laughter was a balm to my soul. And on top of all that, I hadn’t hated every second I’d been in Hickory Hollow, and that was down to Morgan too.
My thoughts raced so fast I couldn’t catch them. I didn’t know how I was going to sort them out. But I knew where I could start.
O n the big holidays, The Emerald Lantern was closed for business. Instead, Arlo hosted a meal for anyone who didn’t have plans or families. It started when I was in high school, and even though I been annoyed by it, I recognized it was a good thing to do. It was small in the beginning, but it ballooned quickly. Today we were expecting about fifty people. Some of them were there to socialize and celebrate the day. Others were there for the meal, and to not be alone, but they wouldn’t engage. All levels of interaction were welcome at The Emerald Lantern on Christmas Day.
Since the pub was open, I parked in the lot and Morgan and I went in through the front door. We were heading back to his house after everything was done anyway, so it made sense. Arlo was cleaning and arranging tables, but he looked up when I pushed through the door. His face lit up.
“Merry Christmas!”
Morgan ran across the floor and straight into his arms for a big hug. “Merry Christmas, Arlo!”
“Morgan! Is that Morgan?” Ike shouted from the back. He’d been the cook here since the month after Arlo bought the pub from the previous owners and never left. A second later, he poked his grizzled head through the swinging door. “You’re not useless in the kitchen. Come help.”
He disappeared again. Arlo shook his head. Morgan laughed.
“Be right there,” he called back. He turned to me and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “You know where you can find me.”
I don’t know how he knew I might need him, I hadn’t discussed my thoughts with him, but he did. And I didn’t know if I actually would. But it was good to know he would support me if need be.
“Merry Christmas, Bear,” Arlo said, voice softer than before.
“Merry Christmas,” I hugged him tight, hanging for a second too long. Then I pulled back. “Hey. Can we talk for a second?"
“Sure.” He eyed me. “You all right?”
I nodded and gestured toward his office. He took the hint and led the way. I didn’t bother closing the door, but I did sit in one of the extra chairs. Arlo sat in his desk chair but turned it to face me.
“What’s on your mind?”
I dove right in. There was no point in beating around the bush. “Why did Dad leave Hickory Hollow?”
Arlo blew out a breath and cast his gaze to the ceiling. He was silent for only a few seconds before he spoke. “Jareth had a really tough relationship with our parents. The only way they knew how to parent was with strict rules and harsh punishments. For me, it wasn’t so bad. But your dad…he was a free spirit. He hated being caged in. He wanted to understand the why of things. If one of our parents told him not to do something, ‘because I said so’ wasn’t a good enough answer for him. They were constantly fighting and he was always in trouble.”
“So he left.”
Arlo looked at me then, and his eyes were filled with sadness. “I think, for Jareth, he had to leave, one way or another. Either this town and away from our parents or else he’d leave earth.”
I got what he was saying. “And he never tried to get in contact with you? Them? Anyone? He was sixteen, for fuck’s sake.”
Arlo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He fidgeted his fingers, twisting and untwisting them. I could tell he was weighing his words. “He talked to me the night before he left. Told me he loved me and that I was a good kid brother. I tried to talk him into staying but hell, I was barely a teenager myself. What did I know? Looking back on it now, I’m grateful he did tell me. No matter what else, I always knew it wasn’t because of me.
“And he only got in touch once,” he said, a smile crossing his lips. “Right after you were born. Sent me a postcard telling he was a dad, that you were perfect, and that he was gonna do everything in his power to be the kind of parent ours weren’t. I believed that with my whole heart.”
“Did you ever try to find him?”
Arlo nodded. “I was fifteen when I got the postcard, but I hung onto it. A couple of years later, I tried to look. I came up with nothing, but it was a different world back then. Then I scraped together the money for a private investigator. It was postmarked Nashville but at that point, it was five years old. The PI found your birth certificate, but no trace of either of you after that. Of course, we know now he took you to Chicago.”
I nodded because I knew the story from there. At three months old he packed me and all our belongings in his beat-up Monte Carlo and made a new life for us.
“Truth is, Bear,” Arlo said quietly. “When you told me you joined the Marines, I was terrified history was going to repeat itself.”
My heart squeezed and I leaned forward to grab his hand. He held on. We stayed like that for a few minutes. Then it was my turn to talk.
“I wouldn’t do that to you. No matter what I threw at you, how angry I was, you were just solid and there. It meant the world to me, even if I didn’t recognize it at the time.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted. “Because I wasn’t going to be like my parents either. You don’t know how many times I thought I made the wrong decision, bringing you here instead of staying in Chicago. I would have if the situation had been different, just to give you some sort of stability. But my father was gone, my mother was dying, and I’d just bought the pub. At least here, I’d have a support system of friends, you know?”
“I get it,” I assured him. “Now anyway. Back then I was angry at the world and you got caught in that.”
His smile was self-deprecating. “I should have gotten you into therapy.”
I had to chuckle at that. “Where? How? By making a two-hour drive to Burlington every week? Nah, like you said, it was a different world back then. And I think I turned out all right. Mostly.”
That made Arlo laugh too. “Yeah, you did. You’re a good man.” He took a breath and continued. “Why are you asking now? I mean, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. But you’ve actively avoided it until now. What changed?”
Good question. I sat with that for a minute and tried to figure out the answer. In the end, there was only one thing to say.
“What changed? My world view, I guess. I thought I hated this town and everything it represented. Not you. But everything else. I wouldn’t have ever been here if my dad hadn’t died. If the woman who gave birth to me had been a different sort of person. I think I thought if I left and never came back, all of that would cease to exist. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was just running away from home.”