Chapter 23 Marco
Marco
The morning of Christmas Eve, I take the train out to Long Island and I visit my brother’s grave.
Brin’s babysitting today, which is good because we needed a break to hydrate and get some fresh air after our two-day sex bender.
I’ve always loved being around Brin—she’s light and funny and kind—and all of these traits blossom in the bedroom.
I’ve never felt a connection like this with someone before.
And the fact that she was willing to explore was fucking hot as hell.
I grew up in Smithtown, but my brother is buried closer to the city in a Catholic cemetery. Against his wishes.
I don’t visit on the day of his death or on his birthday. Instead I visit on the day my parents kicked him out.
I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in God or an afterlife. But on the off chance that I’m wrong, the only thing I care about is my brother knowing how much I loved him.
When I get to the grave, I’m surprised to find a small wreath on the headstone. I’m even more shocked that there’s a rainbow ribbon woven through it. This is not a queer-friendly community and even though I don’t know this particular church, I would be shocked if they allowed this here.
I spot a tag on the back of the wreath and carefully flip it over. My breath catches in my throat when I read the handwritten note.
Joe-
I saw this and thought of you. I always think of you around the holidays.
Stay merry & bright.
Love, Drew
Drew was my brother’s best friend, the one we lived with for a while. Since Joe’s death, we drifted apart.
I put the wreath back, and then sit down and talk to my brother. I tell him all about my life in the past year. About William, and Bea, and mostly Brin. I talk about Brin so much, if there is an afterlife my brother is looking down on me and saying, “Jesus, man, I get it, you love her.”
On the trip back to Manhattan, I text Drew.
Marco
I went to Joe’s grave today and saw the wreath you left. Thank you for doing that.
I get a text back immediately.
Drew
MARCO OMG HI
How are you?
I think of you so much at Christmas time. And Joe, of course.
Me
I think of him a lot too.
We text updates about our lives—Drew sends me a picture of him and his boyfriend and their dog—and then he invites me to his house for dinner tonight. I hesitate for a moment, but then Drew sends me three more texts.
Drew
Just bring yourself. It’s totally casual.
Do you remember that year Joe went tinsel crazy? It was gold strands EVERYWHERE and we found them for months and months afterward.
I’m so glad you reached out. I hope there’s a shiny thing in your life somewhere that’s Joe’s style.
That makes me smile, especially from his use of the word shiny. Not only does it make me think of the scavenger hunt, but it’s the perfect word to describe Brin. I also think about the decorations up in William’s penthouse. Joe would have loved them. Just like Brin did.
I text Drew back that I’ll be there, and ask if I can bring a friend. He says yes. Then I gaze out the window of the train.
Since Joe’s death, I hadn’t wanted to decorate for Christmas, especially not with a tree. His death was too raw. But now, after this holiday scavenger hunt and Brin’s unbridled enthusiasm, maybe I’m ready for some of it in my life again.
And I know where I can steal some Christmas magic.