Chapter 16
HOPPER
Noel chose a Scotch pine for the house, and after we got Gray and Emory loaded with their Douglas fir, we hauled it into the living room.
The Scotch was prickly, but it didn’t shed many needles and had long been a favorite of Maggie’s. Noel was a smart cookie.
Ed watched us wrestle it into the stand, Noel cursing when the needles stabbed the palm of his right hand.
“Got a gap between two of those branches,” Ed said, leaning forward to examine it closely.
We exchanged a look because Noel had helped his dad with the tree farm for years and still knew how to pick a tree.
He’d recited all the fun facts his dad had taught him over the years while we carried it back.
For example, the Balsam fir was the most fragrant but dried out quickest, the Douglas fir was fuller but required lighter ornaments not to weigh down the boughs, and the spruce varieties dropped more needles.
But even if he hadn’t remembered, I was right there to second his choice.
Maggie shook her head. “Ignore your father. It looks beautiful. Thank you, sweetie.”
“I was just giving him a hard time.” Ed straightened with a grunt and slapped Noel on the shoulder. “Good choice, son. If Mama’s happy, we’re all happy.”
“That was the goal,” Noel said teasingly.
Now that the tree was in the house, there was no danger that Ed would venture out and overexert himself, so we went back to work.
The plan was to decorate the tree that night, but Ed nodded off in his recliner after dinner. The next evening, we had a last-minute customer who held us up past dinner. And on Tuesday, we really had to get that storage room cleared out for the wreath-making workshop.
Once the boxes and clutter were gone, Noel grabbed some wood polisher and wiped down the handcrafted pine table until it was gleaming.
“It’s going to look great for the workshop,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”
I nodded, gazing at the space. The room was part of a barn, so the ceilings were high. Rustic wooden rafters crisscrossed twelve feet over our heads.
The table in the center of the room was impressive, built in the trestle style with bench seating instead of chairs. It was designed as a long farm table to feed a crew, so it sat eight people per side.
The space was a bit rustic, but people liked that these days…
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Noel asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing, really. My friend Kevin was looking for a place to host an anniversary dinner party for his parents.”
“A dinner party?” Noel glanced around the room. “Here?”
“Well, everything is booked up because it’s close to Christmas. I think he also liked the idea of you catering it. I…might have mentioned how amazing your food was at Thanksgiving dinner.”
Noel looked pleased. “Oh, did you brag on me? Before we even hooked up.” He tsked. “You must really like me.”
“I do,” I said seriously, not willing to lie, even to play his flirty game.
Noel bit his lip, making me want to kiss him again.
He assessed the room. “It could work for a party, as long as it wasn’t too big.
The table could seat sixteen. There’s room to bring in a kids table, maybe, or a bar.
But you couldn’t accommodate a lot more.
” He turned to me thoughtfully. “If they were up for renting a pavilion, though, it could be done outside. We’ve got those heaters we use in the shop. ”
“Yeah, but their anniversary isn’t until December nineteenth. You’ll be long gone.”
“Oh.” His face fell. “I guess they could get it catered.”
I shook my head. “Pretty sure everyone will be booked up. We can’t do it without you, Noel.”
His eyes met mine, a shine of regret to them. “Maybe…I could stay a while longer.”
“But that’s nearly Christmas?”
He shrugged. “What’s a couple more weeks, right? It seems silly to leave in mid-December, when I could be with my family over the holiday. Help them through the season. By next year, Dad will be so much—”
I cut him off with an elated kiss. Noel staying through Christmas? Hell, yes.
I didn’t even care that I’d only get more attached to him. I was already hooked on this man. I’d take every day I could possibly get.
He laughed against my lips. “Guess you really wanted to help Kevin out, huh?”
“Kevin?” I blinked the fog from my mind. “Oh, right. Yeah. I’ll have to call and make sure he didn’t find someplace else. Are you sure about this? I know you’re trying to organize more holiday events, too.”
“It’s just one night. I’d be happy to do it.”
I grinned. “And you’ll stay for Christmas.”
“I will.” He nodded, eyes on mine. “Even if Kevin makes other plans, I was having a hard time convincing myself to leave now.” He hesitated. “Because of my parents…”
Right. His parents.
Not because of me.
I tried not to take it personally. Noel was obviously worried about how they would fare once he was gone. He cared a lot more than I’d ever given him credit for. I’d never understood why he left home, and I’d wanted to think the worst of him.
Now, though, I could see that I was all wrong about Noel.
He loved his family. Loved his home. He just loved being a chef, too. Loved being a gay man without the constraints of a small town. Without all those ugly high school memories.
“We might need to brighten the place up a bit if we hold the party in here,” Noel said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Some gauzy fabrics and lights. Maybe some candles or lanterns on the table. Some pretty china.”
“You’d know better than me,” I said, “but yeah, I can see that.”
Noel smiled, eyes dancing with visions of what he’d do for a special event. “Damn, I hope Kevin says yes. This will be fun.”
With the event space cleaned up, we finally convened in the living room Wednesday night to decorate the tree.
Ed sat in his usual recliner, feet up, sipping the hot chocolate Maggie had made. I stood at the threshold between the dining room and living area, watching Noel and Maggie sort through boxes of decorations.
She held up a popsicle-stick ornament in the shape of a tree with Noel’s six-year-old face beaming from the center.
Noel laughed. “Oh god, why haven’t you thrown this away?”
“I would never do that!”
It occurred to me as I watched them that this was a family gathering. Noel was their son, not me.
I made my way toward the stairs.
“Hopper?” Noel called.
I turned. “Yeah?”
“Where are you going? We’re just getting started here.”
I chuckled awkwardly and gestured toward the stairs. “Figured I’d head up to my room. Let you all decorate as a family.”
Maggie clucked. “Hopper, you’re part of the family. Don’t you know that by now?”
I shifted my gaze from her to Noel. He hadn’t been so happy that I was playing family with his parents when he’d first arrived.
He rolled his eyes now. “Get over here. You’re in charge of hanging the lights while we get these ornaments unpacked.”
I snorted. “Yes, sir.”
Ed guffawed behind me. “Noel knows how to handle the likes of you.”
My eyes met and held Noel’s, thinking of all the ways he’d been handling me these past few days. “I guess he does.”
The lights were a tangled mess, as usual. I dug them out of the box and unwound them while Noel and Maggie pulled out ornaments one by one, sharing stories of Christmases past.
Their faces were glowing, and I hadn’t even plugged in the dang lights yet.
My chest tightened as I thought of my mother, of the holidays I was missing with her, but there was a sweetness alongside the bloom of a pain. A warmth that the Grisolds had poured into the void she left.
I wound the lights around the tree and plugged them in.
Noel clapped when the retro colored lights came on, blinking red, blue, and green.
Maggie pushed herself to her feet. “We need some Christmas music!”
“Heaven help us all,” Ed grumbled, but he smiled behind the rim of his cup of hot chocolate.
Maggie placed a record on an ancient player, and “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” poured from the speakers.
“Frank Sinatra could sing,” Ed pronounced. “Young people these days should take notes.”
Noel laughed. “Sinatra was before your time, too, Dad.”
“Still,” he said. “There’s no appreciation for real talent anymore.”
“Says the man who played a Christmas album performed by some football players a hundred times last year,” Maggie shot back.
Noel laughed. “Seriously?”
“What? It was for a good cause!”
“They don’t get paid every time you play the record,” Maggie said.
“Just admit you’ve got a big ole man crush on Jason Kelce,” I added.
The Philadelphia Eagles had released a Christmas special that was popular, but it was fun to tease him.
“Oh, I do not! The Eagles were entertaining, that’s all.”
Noel busted out laughing at his dad’s expression. “Come on, Dad, it’s okay to admit it in this household. I’ve got a crush on a guy, too.”
He winked and did not look at me, but elation bubbled through my veins. I was his crush. Me. How did that happen?
Ed grumbled something about living with a bunch of assholes, and Noel hopped up to hang the first ornament.
Maggie sat on the sofa, pulling items from the box, while Noel hung them on tree branches.
“Get in here, Hopper,” Noel said. “I’m not doing this alone.”
I stepped forward and accepted a clear ornament filled with marshmallows that had to be at least fifteen years old. A shaky hand had painted Happy Noel on the side.
I showed it to Noel. “Apparently, you were happy once.”
He slapped my arm. “It would make me happy to kick your ass.”
I smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Maybe later,” he said, giving me a piercing look that made my insides clench.
Ah, yes, Noel couldn’t take me in a fight, but he could take me so very well in bed. My ass would probably pay later for teasing him, and I was looking forward to it.
Once the childhood crafts were on the tree, we began hanging glittering glass ornaments. As the tallest guy in the house, I got the honor of adding the star to the top.
We all stood back to admire it, and then Ed’s snore rumbled through the room.