Chapter Six
Archie
Archie kissed Brogan goodbye outside the mall entrance, quick and soft, the kind of kiss that said I’ll miss you even for an hour.
Brogan gave him a wink and a playful swat on the butt before heading off toward the electronics store.
Archie grinned and turned toward the men’s shop, already mentally cataloging what Brogan might actually wear versus what he’d pretend to like.
The sweater was easy because he envisioned Brogan wearing the soft navy pullover sweater, just the right mix of cozy and masculine.
The smartwatch took longer. Brogan had mentioned wanting one a month ago, but never took the time to get it.
Archie stood at the display case, comparing specs like he knew what he was doing, finally picking the one with all the bells and whistles.
Brogan would try to act chill about it, but Archie knew he’d be thrilled. He also purchased items for the others.
Then came the bracelet. Archie wandered into the jewelry store on impulse, heart thudding a little. He picked out a slim gold band, simple but elegant, and had it engraved: I love you — Archie. The clerk raised an eyebrow, but Archie just smiled. It felt right.
Archie found a quiet spot and put money on his father’s books and wished him a Merry Christmas.
They’d agreed to meet back at two, but just as Archie was juggling two oversized shopping bags and a roll of glittery wrapping paper, his phone buzzed. Aunt Laura.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she said when he answered. “Are you free for lunch?”
Archie hesitated, glancing. “Yeah. I’ve got a little window. Where?”
“Let’s meet at the local place. Maggie’s Café. I’ll grab us a booth.”
Archie arrived ten minutes later, bags bumping against his legs as he pushed through the door. The place smelled of grilled cheese and cinnamon tea. Aunt Laura spotted him instantly.
“Archie!” she called, waving from a corner booth.
He smiled and walked over, setting the bags down before pulling her into a hug. She held him tight, longer than usual.
She told him she was treating him to lunch and to order whatever he wanted. They ordered comfort food—Aunt Laura got the tomato basil soup and a turkey club, and Archie went for a bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the plate hit the table.
“I’m glad you came,” she said, stirring her tea. “I wanted to talk to you. About your uncle.”
Archie’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry for how he acted,” she whispered. “It was cruel. And it’s not how a family should treat each other.”
Archie looked down at his fries, picking one up and breaking it in half. “I didn’t expect him to be thrilled, but… yeah. It hurt.”
Laura reached across the table, her fingers brushing his. “I know you don’t have a mother, Archie. And I can’t replace her. But I want to be that person for you, if you’ll let me.”
Archie blinked, caught off guard. His throat tightened, and he fought the sting behind his eyes. “Aunt Laura…”
“You’re part of this family,” she said. “The Star family. And I want you to feel that. We’re having Christmas dinner at Rafael’s this year. I want you and Brogan there. No excuses.”
Archie hesitated. “Even with Uncle David?”
“I’ll handle David,” she said. “You just show up. That’s all I want.”
He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Okay. We’ll come.”
Laura beamed. “Good. Now, let’s get those gifts wrapped. You can use my home, so Brogan doesn’t see what you got him. And don’t you worry about your uncle. He’s bowling with his friends. I’ll drive you home after.”
Archie sent Brogan a quick text:
Hey, change of plans. Wrapping gifts at Aunt Laura’s. She’s driving me home. All good.
He looked up and saw Aunt Laura watching him with that soft, maternal smile. Maybe Christmas wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Aunt Laura’s car smelled like cinnamon and peppermint, and Archie couldn’t tell if it was a holiday air freshener or just her general vibe.
Either way, it was comforting. She hummed along to the radio as they pulled into her driveway, the front porch already glowing with twinkle lights and a wreath that looked like it belonged in a magazine.
“Grab those bags, sweetheart,” she said, popping the trunk.
Archie hauled out the shopping bags—two of them nearly splitting at the seams with gifts and rolls of wrapping paper.
Then he followed her inside. Her house was warm and smelled like vanilla and pine.
The Christmas tree in the living room was stunning, with gold and cranberry ornaments, ribbon cascading like a waterfall.
It made him pause for a second, just to take it in.
They dropped the bags by the couch, and Aunt Laura disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returned with two mugs of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. Just like his mom used to make.
Archie took a sip and closed his eyes. “This is perfect.”
She smiled, settling beside him. “Did you send your dad a card this year?”
“Yeah,” he said, curling his fingers around the mug. “Put some money on his books, too.”
She nodded and then tilted her head. “Did you write him a note?”
Archie hesitated. “No. Just signed my name.”
Laura said nothing at first. She just stood, walked over to the little writing desk by the window, and came back with a piece of thick, cream-colored stationery and a pen with a gold clip.
“Write him something,” she whispered, handing them over. “Something loving. Even if it’s short.”
Archie stared at the paper for a second, then nodded. He set his mug down, took the pen, and wrote.
Dear Dad,
I know we haven’t talked much lately, and maybe that’s on both of us. I don’t always know what to say, and I’m not sure you’d want to hear it, anyway. But it’s Christmas, and I figured maybe this year, I’d try.
I hope you’re doing okay. I hope you’re warm. I hope you’re safe.
I sent some money for your books. Please get yourself something good. Maybe something sweet. You always had a thing for those butterscotch candies.
I’m doing all right. I’ve got someone in my life now. His name’s Brogan. He’s kind. He makes me laugh. He makes me feel like I matter. I think you’d like him if things were different.
Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m thinking of you. I hope you know I don’t hate you. I’ve been angry, yeah. But I still love you. I always will.
Merry Christmas.
Love,
Archie
He folded the letter carefully and handed it to Aunt Laura. She took it as if it were something precious.
“I’ll make sure it gets to him,” she said.
“Thanks,” Archie murmured, voice a little tight. He cleared his throat and reached for his hot chocolate again, needing something warm to hold onto.
“You’re a good man, Archie,” she said. “Your mom would be proud.”
He didn’t say anything, just nodded and smiled, blinking fast. He wasn’t about to cry over cocoa and stationery. Not today.
Not yet.