Chapter 13 #2
Once she let go of him, Devon gave Ed a hug and said, “So much for surprises.”
“It’s still the best Christmas gift we could have asked for. We missed you, Son.” When they let go of each other, Ed shook my hand vigorously and said, “And it’s wonderful to meet you, Kit! We feel like we already know you after all we’ve heard from Dev. Isn’t that right, hon?”
Devon’s mom gave me a hug and told me, “You’re a part of the family, as far as we’re concerned.”
“That’s sweet,” Devon said, “but I feel like I should introduce you anyway. Belinda and Ed Krakowski, I’d like you to meet Kit Cortez.”
His mom still had her arm around my shoulders, and she gave me an extra squeeze.
“You’re adorable,” she told me. “And so tiny! I just want to put you in my pocket.” I glanced up at her and smiled self-consciously.
She was tall—compared to me, anyway—and her eyes were the same shade of green as Devon’s.
I suspected her shoulder-length hair was probably the same dark brown too, although hers had honey-colored highlights.
Devon sighed. “Could you stop embarrassing him for like, two seconds, Mom?”
“Am I embarrassing you, Kit? I don’t mean to,” she said. “We’re just so excited, because Dev never brought a boy home before.”
“It’s fine, Mrs. Krakowski,” I said shyly.
She patted my cheek. “Call me Belinda, or Mom if you’re comfortable with that.”
I hadn’t expected to hear that, or to be hit so hard by it. I shifted my gaze to the ground and mumbled, “I’ve never called anyone Mom before.”
I once again found myself crushed in a hug as she exclaimed, “Oh you poor, sweet little angel!”
“That sweet little angel is going to freeze to death out here, unless you let go of him and help us get this stuff inside,” Devon told her.
Belinda and Ed instantly snapped into action. Devon handed his mom the flowers, which she raved about, and he gave Ed the gourmet gift basket before handing me the cake and cookies. His mom mentioned making us some hot chocolate and hurried inside with her husband.
As he grabbed our luggage, Devon said, “Sorry about that. I know she’s a lot.”
“She’s really nice. I see where you get it.” That made him grin.
The inside of the house looked like a Hallmark Christmas movie. Devon left our bags at the foot of a staircase decked out in swags of pine and red ribbon, and on our way to the back of the house, I spotted four Christmas trees and all sorts of holiday decorations.
When I commented on it, Devon said, “My mom hires a designer to decorate the house every year. It’s nice that they went with red, green, and gold this time, because sometimes they get a little too creative.
I’m sorry, but lime green, neon orange, and yellow just don’t scream ‘Christmas’ to me.
That’s what happened last time I was home for the holidays. ”
I teased, “I had no idea you were such a traditionalist.”
“Only about this. I want Christmas to actually look like Christmas. If that’s wrong, I don’t want to be right.”
After a minute, we arrived in a beautiful ivory-colored kitchen, with stone countertops that looked like huge slabs of something rare and precious.
The kitchen had its own little tree on a side table, decorated with white lights and tiny cooking implements, like a red mixer and a dainty sheet pan full of fake, miniscule cookies. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
While Devon’s mom pulled some milk from a huge refrigerator that was designed to blend in with the cabinets, Ed dug through the gift basket.
I’d barely noticed him while getting swept up by Hurricane Belinda, but now I saw he was significantly older than his wife, with thinning hair, glasses, and kind eyes.
He held up two of the fancy cheeses with a huge smile and told us, “You got the good stuff! Thank you. Your mother’s going to tell me I need to go easy on it, but it’s the holidays, right? What better time to indulge a little?”
Belinda reminded him, “Now, you know we have dinner tonight with the Fishers. You don’t want to be all gassy.
” She turned to Devon and said, “We were invited to a holiday dinner tonight with a few of our friends from pickleball. I said yes because I didn’t know when you were arriving, but we can cancel—”
“No, it’s fine. Go have fun,” Devon said. “Kit and I can amuse ourselves for a few hours.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
She found a fancy tin of cocoa in the cabinet, and Devon grabbed four mugs. As the three of them chatted about Belinda’s new pickleball obsession, I took a seat on the far side of the kitchen island and watched them.
What I saw made me happy. There was so much love here, and it was obvious they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. They laughed and joked and acted like no time at all had passed since they’d all been together. It was a beautiful thing.
Belinda pulled me out of my thoughts when she called, “Come here, Kit, and take over with the cocoa while I find the miniature marshmallows. You need to keep stirring while it heats up, or it gets all clumpy.”
I hurried around to the other side of the island and joined in. And just like that, I felt like I was part of the family, too.
It was a good four hours before we finally made it upstairs with our bags. Devon closed the door behind us and face-planted onto the queen-size bed as he muttered, “I can’t believe they busted out the photo albums and the slide projector. You must have been bored out of your mind.”
I was grinning as I sat down beside him. “Definitely not. I loved getting to see your entire evolution, from dorky kid to awkward teen to hot adult.”
“Oh god, there were so many photos. And then, they made you look at the slides from six separate family vacations!”
“Ed was so excited when he talked about your first family trip to Europe. He told us the entire history of the Roman aqueduct system.”
“He’s a history buff. Once you get him started—well, you saw for yourself.”
“He’s very sweet,” I said, “and he and your mom seem like a wonderful couple. They’re so in love that they remind me of newlyweds, even though they’ve been together for years.”
“I know. Even though they’re very different people, somehow it just works.” I stretched out beside him, and Devon turned to face me and ran his knuckles over my cheek. “You really are such a good sport for putting up with my quirky family.”
“Thank you for letting me be a part of it. I’m having fun, and I’ve learned so much about you, even though we’ve only been here a few hours.”
Devon sighed. “I’m not sure how many more embarrassing stories my mom can dredge up, but if she missed any I’m sure you’ll be hearing them soon.”
That evening, after Belinda and Ed took off for their dinner party, Devon ordered a rideshare and explained, “I want to take you to this cool bar after we eat, and since we’ll be drinking I don’t want to drive.”
The bar in question was amazing. He referred to it as ‘the Horse,’ and we walked to it after the best seafood dinner I’d ever had. I paused and turned to Devon when he said, “This place has operated continually since 1775.”
“Holy shit.”
“It’s famous not only for being that old, but for being Edgar Allan Poe’s last stop before he died.”
“That’s pretty grim.”
“It’s so perfect for where we are, though. Most cities are proud to be the birthplace of someone famous. Baltimore, in an odd sort of way, is proud to be Poe’s place of death. It’s quirky and offbeat, and I actually love that.”
The bar was crowded for a random Tuesday in late December, and we were lucky to get a table. It seemed to be about an even split between locals and tourists, and the atmosphere was friendly and upbeat.
Devon and I hung out for nearly three hours. He spent some of that time telling me stories about Baltimore, and some of his experiences growing up here.
I switched to coffee after the first hour, but he kept drinking and was definitely tipsy by the time we called it quits and he requested another rideshare. When we went outside it was cold enough to see our breath, so we huddled close together and I put my head on his shoulder.
After a while, Devon muttered, “I’m so fucking selfish.”
I leaned back so I could meet his gaze. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I want to spend every minute I have left with you.” His eyes were full of anguish as he whispered, “And I don’t want to die alone.
I’m terrified of that. But how can I do that to you?
It’ll be awful for you if you’re there at the end.
I should take you home to San Francisco and go off on my own to spare you that trauma. ”
As I steadied his swaying with my hands on his shoulders, I said, “Let me make one thing perfectly clear—I want to be with you, Devon. Always. These next few weeks are probably going to be pretty stressful for you, and I’m staying right here, by your side.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” I hugged him tightly and told him, “I would never abandon you when you needed me the most.”
The next morning, I woke up before Devon and slipped out of bed. As I fished through my suitcase for something to wear, I glanced around the room. It was fairly generic, with pale blue walls, dark wood furniture, and blue and white striped curtains.
When I’d commented on it the night before, Devon told me he’d packed up all his childhood things before he left for Asia and stashed them in the attic.
He did that because he didn’t expect to come back alive, and he wanted to spare his mom and Ed that painful task. Hearing that had made my heart ache.
After I showered and got dressed, I went downstairs in search of coffee. Belinda was in the kitchen, making a mess while attempting to bake sugar cookies, and she greeted me with a warm smile. “Good morning, hon. There’s fresh coffee, and Ed bought croissants. Help yourself.”
“Thanks. Devon’s still asleep.”
“Did you boys have fun last night?”