Epilogue
JUST SHY OF A YEAR LATER
“Wake up, Cthulhu!” Bertie exclaims, jumping on me in bed. “We have a big day planned!”
He straddles my stomach and starts smoothing together my tentacles. They always have a mind of their own at night and I must be a frightful mess. I don’t know how my guys put up with me, waking up with bed head and bed face every morning.
“Much more presentable,” he says, surveying his work.
Hideo hops on the bed next to me and says, “Now we’re going to start this day right and mess them all up again.”
I perk up, at least parts of me do, when Hideo applies his talented mouth to my morning wood.
My tentacles wake up when Bertie stuffs his equally stiff one into my mouth, and I can’t complain.
They have it all planned, so I can lie back, enjoy the ride, and let them decide what goes where.
Maybe we should forget about scenic drives and mountain cabins, and just play together, all day, in our big, warm bed.
As I’m languorously licking the last traces of their holiday-wake-up treat off my happy tentacles, drifting back into happy slumber, Bertie says, “Afraid not, lazy boy. Up you go! Off to the shower with you.”
Honestly…bakers and their early mornings. Nobody should be this cheerful at this impossible hour.
I stumble through my morning routine and Hideo thrusts a steaming mug into my hand when I get to the kitchen.
“There’s our sleepy giant,” Bertie says. “What do you want? I have eggs and some croissants.”
My stomach is telling me in no uncertain terms that the day has started, so I don’t tell him what I really want—a few more minutes with my eyes shut. I shake my head and commit to waking up. There’s no escape from his exuberant enthusiasm.
“Sounds great,” I say, mustering a smile. “Are there any almond ones?” I don’t really need to ask, since he knows they’re my favorite.
“No, sorry,” he says, rummaging around in the bakery bag. “But I’ve been experimenting with some new pistachio ones. Do you want to be my official taste-tester? They are, if I do say so myself, even tastier.”
And he’s completely correct. They’re divine, and my tentacles and I agree: we have a new favorite.
I’m mostly awake when I finish the last bite, letting my tentacles chase the delicious crumbs out of my beard, and I tell myself it’s time to stop being a grumpy morning grump.
We have a big day planned and I can’t wait.
“Time to pack up the car!” Hideo says with his typical efficiency.
“Do you want to sing some Christmas carols?” Bertie says, fiddling with the playlists on his phone.
“I’m awake,” I say, still battling my inner Scrooge. “But not that awake.”
The car is almost packed, and I can tell Hideo is itching to get on the road. He’s in full organizer mode, making sure we’re on schedule, but I need to make a call first.
“Hi, Dad. Happy holidays!”
“Orion! It’s so good to hear your voice. Happy holidays! Hold on a second, and I’ll put you on speaker. Honey, Orion is on the phone!”
My mom says, “Happy holidays, dear. Are you ready for your big trip?”
“We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
Hideo bustles over and asks, “Hey love, where is Jake’s bag?”
“Already in the car,” I say, “and his presents.”
“Thanks,” he says, completely distracted but taking a moment to shout to the phone, “Happy holidays, Carol and Ted!”
“Send him our love,” my mom insists.
“Will do, but he’s already back to packing now. I’ll tell him when we’re in the car.”
“I bet you guys are excited to get to the mountains!” My dad has a wistful tinge in his voice. They don’t get much snow in Texas. “It will be fun to have a white Christmas.”
“That’s what we’re hoping, if the weather forecast is right.” Hideo is simply beside himself, excited about a holiday in the snow. I am too, since it will be the first time I’ve ever been in snow. It’s Jake’s first time too, but that’s a hurdle to jump when we get to it.
Hideo flashes me his we-need-to-get-moving look, so I coax the conversation on. Bertie will want details. “Has sis arrived?”
My mom answers, “Yesterday, with the whole crew, and I’ve already started cooking for our big dinner. By the way, tell Bertie thanks for that pie recipe. I made one yesterday and it looks delicious.”
“I’ll let him know…or maybe you can. Here he comes.”
Bertie gestures his hand at me, asking for the phone.
“Hi Carol, Ted. How are the holidays treating you? Ha, I can only imagine. All those mouths to feed. Orion is making your pork roast too—we all can’t wait.
Did you try the scones in the new Bon Appétit?
You added maple…and what? You didn’t! You’re so daring.
Sounds delicious…and now that you mention it, I’ll have to make some for your son…
that’s something he would love. You don’t say?
I didn’t know that about him. Ha! No way!
That’s hilarious. He still does that, you know. ”
“Give me that phone!” I demand.
“Gotta run,” he continues as I try to snatch the phone away. “This car isn’t going to pack itself. Wishing you a joyous celebration. And send me your recipe for those scones!”
“What have you been telling him?” I ask once I have my phone back.
“Never you mind,” my mom says, laughing. “Everyone is asking when we’re going to meet these mysterious partners of yours.”
We’ve been talking about this quite a lot. Hideo and Bertie are keen to have a family get-together, or rather, get-togethers, since we have three families to consider now. “Glad you asked. We were thinking about coming out for Dad’s birthday.”
“Wonderful! You know you and your friends are always welcome, and Jake too, if he’s up for the trip.”
I give them the bad news. “Yeah. Jake is an issue with the trip, and it would only be for a day or two, since we all have work.”
“You know, dear, your father and I have been wanting to take a trip to the west coast. Maybe we could come out there.”
I try to picture this—picking them up at the airport, bringing them home, making dinner together, visiting the beach—and for the first time in my life, it feels right.
“That sounds great, Mom. I’ll mention it to Bertie and Hideo, and we can start the ball rolling.”
Hideo stalks over and says, “It’s time to go. We don’t want to be late. Have we forgotten anything?”
My mom hears this and says, “Sounds like I need to let you go, dearest. We love you and wish you all a happy celebration. Safe travels!”
The drive is beautiful, especially when we get into the mountains. I’m glad Hideo is behind the wheel since I have exactly zero experience with driving in snow, not that it’s really a problem. The roads are neatly plowed and the day is cold, but not stormy.
When we pull up to the cabin, Hideo parks next to Bob’s SUV.
Carl, decked out in full lumberjack gear, is busy bounding through the snow with Castor and Pollux.
Jake peers out the window, not at all sure what he wants to do.
Just like me, snow is a complete unknown, but his best buddies are out there, so it must be okay.
“Grab him around the middle,” Hideo suggests. “And toss him in. That's what we did with our pup when I was a kid. He’ll get with the program once he gets his feet wet.”
I do just as he suggests. Jake gives me one what-the-hell-Orion look, belly-deep in cold white stuff, but then Castor and Pollux are on him, and all is forgiven as they run off in search of imaginary squirrels.
Carl plods through the snow and gives me a big flannel hug. “Come on in guys! Pops has some mulled wine and spiced cider.”
The cabin is like a postcard: a big two-story A-frame, perched in the middle of a forest of snow-covered trees.
There’s a chilly breeze that makes my tentacles curl for cover.
They’re used to palm trees, not pinecones, but I take a deep breath, savoring the clean mountain air.
My tentacles will survive, after all, they have their own natural insulation.
As we’re dragging the first load of bags out of the car, he continues, “We saved the master bedroom for you guys, upstairs. The bed might be barely large enough for our GingerGiant.”
Once we have our stuff stowed in the big bedroom, it’s time to have some fun in the snow.
Since I’m a total newbie with cold weather, I hedge my bets and layer my new sweater under my jacket.
Somehow, Bertie and Hideo found a sweater that fits me, a Christmas sweater no less, complete with a dog in a Santa hat.
I love it without reservation, and I’m sure it will keep toasty warm.
I grab some tennis balls and shout to the guys, “I need to stretch my legs. I’m going to take Jake for a walk.”
I whistle when I get outside and Jake comes bounding over, followed by his furry friends. I throw the balls far down the road and the game is on. Running and catching and happy barking and slobbery tennis balls covered with snow. Life doesn’t get better than this.
I look back at the house and Hideo is holding Bertie in the upstairs picture window, watching us with love in their eyes. Life certainly doesn’t get better than this…and then the snow starts to fall.
I hold my hands wide and spin around, looking up at the sky, thankful for this little holiday miracle. All my holiday miracles—friends, lovers, pups, and snow—wrapped up here together in this magical mountain-cabin moment.
My boyfriends tromp out of the house, bundled in their winter gear, and join us.
“Catch the snowflakes on your tongue,” Hideo suggests. He dodges back and forth, filled with glee, finally catching a little clump. “I haven’t done this for years!”
I try and it’s trickier than it looks, but then I realize I have an advantage. I deploy my tentacles, spreading them wide.
“Hey!” Bertie chides. “That’s not fair!”
“As they say,” I answer, “all’s fair…”
He dashes over and hugs me full around the middle. “I love you too, IceGiant.”
Bob calls from the cabin door, barefoot and wearing only a robe, “Hey guys, we’re going to hit the hot tub! Want to join us?”
I look at my two lovers, dusted with snowflakes and shimmering with joy, and I know I’ve found my place.
I take their hands, shouting, “We’ll be right there.”
Then we’re off to a steamy soak in the falling snow, five-alarm chili and cut-throat card games, lusty romps in the dark and presents to unwrap at daybreak. I’m ready for every second of it.