Chapter Ten
I’m just ending a two hour long Christmas Morning video chat with my girls, when my ears perk up at overhearing Evan asking Taryn what Gordy’s up to today.
I shouldn’t care, but I do. Which is dumb, because giving a shit about how I left things with him is definitely not how to move on from him.
I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about how he clung to me the other night.
How, for the first time, I felt like he actually needed me back.
Nope. Stop. Stop thinking about him.
“Not really sure, actually,” Taryn explains. “I had to cover his shift for him yesterday, since he called out. Then Morgan and I tried to stop in before we came here, but he wouldn’t answer the door. His truck was outside though, so he’s there. Maybe he’s still sick…”
A feeling of dread washes over me, and I feel this intrinsic need to make sure he’s okay. Against my better judgement, I yank my phone back out of my pocket and shoot him off a text. So much for keeping him outta sight, outta mind… as if that were even possible.
Me
I don’t want a lot for Christmas, but there is something I need…
To my surprise, his response is damn near instantaneous, filling me with relief.
Croot
To fuck off, just like that Mariah Carey song?
Me
No. Proof of life.
Croot
Still here, unfortunately.
Me
Why’d you blow off Taryn and Morgan earlier?
Croot
Not feeling holly jolly.
I snort. Shocker.
Croot
I’m assuming you’re with them, so tell Taryn I dropped some gifts off for them at his place.
Me
Come tell him yourself.
Croot
No.
Me
Why?
Croot
Evan’s there. I’m all set with that. And the last time I was at your parents’ place, I left by ambulance.
Me
So… what, you’re just going to spend Christmas by yourself?
Croot
That was the plan. That, and every other holiday I don’t celebrate, which happens to be 100% of them.
Unfortunately, things didn’t go exactly to plan.
Me
Oh?
Croot
[Incoming Image]
Me
Gulligan!
Hold up. Did you feed him a Christmas Tree cake? Is that the wrapper I see in the background?
Croot
Greedy bastard stole the last one right out of my hand.
Me
[Outgoing Image]
One of these jackasses pilfered all the Santa cookies Tally left out last night before I had a chance to eat them.
Croot
You had raccoons break into your parents' last night?
Me
Oh, Noodles and Meatball didn’t break in… they were invited.
Croot
Jesus H. Who are you, Snow White?
Me
What? No, they’re Brooks and Ev’s.
Croot
Cute.
Me
See what you’re missing out on? You can still come over. We haven’t even cut into the Who-Waters roast beast yet.
Croot
Hard pass.
I’m going back to bed.
There’s a long pause, but I keep watching, since the dots keep showing up, then disappearing. Finally:
Croot
But thank you. For the other night.
Me
What do you mean?
Croot
You know what I mean.
Me
You woke up at some point… and didn’t murder me in my sleep? Well, consider my timbers shivered.
Croot
Don’t read too much into it.
Me
I’m sorry I broke your number one rule.
Croot
I swear to fuckin’ god, Gannett. This is why I shouldn’t have even said anything. Not everything needs to turn into a sap fest.
Me
Why not? Sap can be made into syrup. You can’t tell me your sweet tooth doesn’t love syrup.
Croot
Don’t give up your day job to become a philosopher.
Me
You love me, and you know it.
I watch and wait, but no new response bubbles pop up. As is no surprise at all, the asshole stops responding after that remark. Figures. He engages in conversation, but then I say something wrong, and he suddenly shuts down.
“Gannett! Am I fixing you a plate or not?!” my mother yells to me from the kitchen.
Me
Grub’s on, so I gotta run.
I try one more time to get a response out of him, but I get nothing. Sighing, I type out one more sentiment to him, though I’m sure this, too, will go unanswered.
Me
Merry Christmas, Croot.
Sure enough, he leaves me on "read" again. I suppose a "thank you" from Gordy should be enough of a Christmas miracle. On that, I get up off the couch to go join the rest of the fam for dinner.
My parents' dining room is stuffed to the gills again this year, though, unlike last year, there are two fewer little girls. I try not to let the melancholy I feel show as I grab one of the two empty chairs between Dad and Ev. Of course, my mother doesn’t miss a thing…
She leans out around Dad. “How’d their Christmas with the Babcocks go?”
“Good, I guess. Nothing like watching them open presents while Steven Stephens gets to film it all. I still can’t tell if his Christmas sweater is intentionally ugly or not…”
Colton snorts. “For real? That’s the new dude’s name?”
“That’s what I’m sayin’! And get this, his middle name is Leopold…”
Taryn and Colton both cackle in unison. “They did him dirty. Man, his parents must hate him.” Taryn says.
“Mhm,” I hum. “But guess whose parents don’t hate him…”
“Sarah’s, but don’t let that get you down. Those highfalutin parents of hers always did rub me the wrong way,” Ma scoffs. “Speaking of Sarah, when is she bringing the girls back?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
She nods. “Good. They’ll get a chance to have Christmas here with Nanna and Gramps.”
“If it’s not an overstep, we don’t have to get back right away.
We can stick around so that Tati and Terra can experience all this,” Brooks offers, gesturing around the table.
No surprise there, my daughters love their Uncle B, because he just has this way with kids—must be a camp counselor thing.
Whenever he and Evan come around, I lose another precious chunk of time with my girls.
“Gosh, no. Never think of yourselves as impositions,” Ma huffs at Brooks. “I always tell you to stay as long as you want.”
Tally gasps and squeals, clapping her hands together on Ev’s lap. “T-T! Yay!”
Evan smiles down at her. “Yes, baby girl, the T amigos.”
“As long as there’s leftovers, count me in too!” Morgan snickers. “These mashed potatoes are the best, Vickie,” she tells my mom.
Petro, Colton’s boyfriend, nods. “Agreed,” he says, after swallowing a mouthful. “Do you have a five-gallon bucket we can bring some of these home with? This is about the only thing I’ve eaten lately that hasn’t made me nauseous.”
Colton then nudges him and gives him a look that I can’t quite interpret, but it almost looks as if he just mouthed not yet to Petro. Odd.
Before anyone can interrogate my nephew about that, however, Lizzy pipes up, “Hey now, Morgan! What about my mashed potatoes?!”
Morgan shrugs. “Sorry Mimi, I don’t know what she puts in these, but they beat yours.”
Lizzy turns to Ma, “Would you be willing to share that confidential information with me, or is it a secret family recipe? I get the feeling these would far surpass the ones I currently serve.”
Ma blows a raspberry through her pursed lips, flapping her hand at Lizzy. “Pfft. Have at it. Everyone that sits at this table is family anyway.”
“I think we can extend our stay at the B&B,” Olivia hums. “If ‘Lizabeth can find someone to fill in for her at the diner, we’ll stay.”
“I’m sure I can,” Lizzy confirms. She owns and runs Brome’s Diner, an eatery near Brooks’ and Evan’s summer camp, Camp Healing Waters.
Colton glances over to Petro. “What do ya say, babe? Portland won’t miss us for a couple more days. Wanna stick around too? Maybe we cannnn… spray-paint some dumpsters, for old time’s sake?”
Taryn rolls his eyes. “I thought we were past that…”
“We are. Chill out, my dude,” Colton replies, smirking. “But if you can’t rag on your friends, who can you rag on, right?”
“Behave, Colty-Doodle,” Morgan chides. “Just because you were good at starting food fights at camp, doesn’t mean you need to start one here.
Besides, Christmas is about coming together, as a family…
” She smiles sweetly, looking over at me, then Brooks.
“Family is the best gift,” she adds, blinking back tears as she regards her uncle-turned-father.
Brooks’ sister, Ryann, passed when Morgan was eight.
As her only known next of kin, he took her in, formally adopted her, and raised her all on his own.
Brooks really was single-parent goals for many years. Kinda jealous that now he and my brother don’t have to go it alone anymore. Add that to the laundry list of things I envy about Evan, like his picture-perfect partnership with his husband.
Out of my periphery, I see multiple heads nodding.
Glancing around the table, at each and every one of them who have agreed to stay just to make sure my girls are included—well, let’s just say there’s a knot in my throat that wasn’t there before.
Wasn’t I just the one wallowing in my own loneliness?
“You’d—do that for the girls? Stick around so they could repeat this?”
“Gannett, you really are a bigger numbskull than I thought, if you think any of us here wouldn’t do that for not only the girls, but you as well,” Dad finally speaks up, his eyes darting between Evan and I—fixing both of us with a narrowed look.
“What are you giving me the stink-eye for?” Evan balks. “I didn’t say anything.”
Brooks pats my brother’s thigh and smirks. “Of course you didn’t, babe. That’s pretty much your schtick, staying quiet.”
Evan rolls his eyes. “That’s clearly not the case all the time…”
“Hardly dinner table discussion, babe,” Brooks retorts, his freckled cheeks turning rosy red. Evan’s guilty-as-charged grin follows, and there’s no way his Grizzly bear ass can disguise his infatuation with his ginger-haired husband—there are only few who know what a teddy bear he really is.
Wagner clears his throat. “Agreed. We don’t need those details.
However, I don’t know when both you boys started to get the impression that you don’t matter, but you couldn’t be further from the truth.
I know I spent a lot of your young lives out on the water, but, Morgan’s right, that doesn’t mean family don’t mean nothin’.
Just means I was too much of an idiot to appreciate what was right here all along.
Why do you think I had Evan drag your sorry ass here, Gannett?
You don’t need to be spendin’ Christmas all by your damn self.
No one does.” He raises one of his unruly, bushy white eyebrows at me, then nods at the empty chair on my left. “If you catch my drift…”
There’s only one person that comes to mind who is currently spending Christmas by himself: Gordy.
Dad must know it too, but why would he actively insinuate that I should invite him?
I know Dad likes Gordy and all, but that’s because Gordy lets him pay off his tab with crustaceans versus credit card… right?
“I already talked to him. He didn’t want to come,” I admit.
“Who?” Evan asks.
“Gordy,” Dad answers him, confirming my suspicions.
“You talked to my dad, but he wouldn’t answer the door for me and Morgan?” Taryn scoffs. “What the hell?”
Evan’s face contorts. “Why did you invite him, and why didn’t he want to come? Because of me?”
Yes.
“No,” I lie. “He said he wasn’t feeling well, and was going back to bed. He did say he dropped off some gifts at your place though, Taryn.”
Taryn shakes his head. “Ten bucks says he feels just fine, but that he’s home stuffing his face with Christmas Tree cakes and wallowing in self-pity like the Grinch,” he murmurs.
Dad frowns at Taryn. “Maybe you should cut your old man some slack, kid.”
Just as tensions seem to be rising at our end of the table, chaos erupts.
Noodles manages to climb up onto the empty chair, then onto the table.
He scoops up Ma’s entire fruitcake and scampers off with Meatball hot on his heels.
While it’s commonplace to rag on all things fruitcake, Ma’s is anything but nasty.
Truly, you would have to have Christmas here to be able to appreciate just what was stolen from us just now.
While everyone else starts scattering, chasing after the chonky bandits and their pilfered goods, I watch as Brooks whispers something in Evan’s ear. Evan nods, and discreetly passes Brooks the keys to his truck before joining in the great fruitcake recovery mission.
Well, what in the covert operations have we got going on here?