“Dude, you really forgot your name?” Cullen asks.
My momma rolls her eyes. “You’ve got more game than that, Deke. Hell, Dinah has more game than that.”
“It worked on you, didn’t it?” Aunt Dinah retorts.
From the look in my momma’s eyes, she’s preparing her rebuttal, but, surprisingly, she keeps it to herself.
Kendall is about to continue, but she’s said enough in my book. It’s my turn, and I’m not going to screw this up. “I owe you and everyone here an apology. I wanted everything to be perfect. Dating has always sucked for me. Let’s face it; I’m kinda awkward anyway. Then when it’s time to bring someone home to meet the moms, well, you can imagine how well that has gone over before. But with you…it’s…it’s different.”
“What do you mean?” Kendall asks, her head tilted to one side.
I give a quick glance at my momma, who looks back at me with a bright, approving smile.
“It’s different because I can’t imagine ever being without you. It’s different because I want my family to love you the way I do and I want you to love them the way I do. I was so worried you’d think they were too weird or something.” Without another word, I slide off the swing onto one knee. I open the ring box with shaky hands and let the words fall. “So, in front of the three most important people in my life and our family pig, Kendall Mannheim, will you marry me?”
Kendall’s hands fly to her mouth, her eyes wide. Aunt Dinah and Cullen gasp. I can hear my blood roaring in my ears, my heart throwing itself all over my ribcage. Her silence is starting to worry me a little bit. Her eyes are growing glassy with tears. “Yes, Deacon! A thousand times, yes!”
I grin like a fool as I slip the ring on her finger. I look into her eyes, and my own tears streak down my cheeks.
She wraps her arms around my neck and cries into my shirt. When she pulls away, she plants a perfect, passionate kiss square on my lips.
“Lordy Jesus!” Cullen shouts, sounding like a southern belle drag queen. “We’re gonna have ourselves a weddin’!”
“I think Sappho should be the ring bearer.” Kendall sniffles and then laughs. “Just tie a little pillow to her back with the rings attached.”
We all laugh and then decide to go inside when Cullen makes the observation that Sappho’s ears are freezing cold. As we file inside, my momma and Kendall hang back for a moment, whispering on the porch. Eventually, they both come inside. My momma takes my face in her hands and kisses my forehead before disappearing into the warm glow of the living room. Kendall is right behind her, and she does the same thing.
“What were you two being all secretive about?” I ask.
“Your momma just wanted to make something perfectly clear to me.”
I can’t help my knee jerk reaction—the feeling of gut-wrenching doom. “What?”
Kendall wraps her arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck. “She said that she and Dinah are thrilled to have another child, especially a girl.”
And even with the odors of fried woodland creature and Douglas fir hanging thickly in the air, even with the sounds of piggy snorts and Cullen’s incessant yapping, even with my momma’s flask, Aunt Dinah’s ugly slippers, and their inability to keep their hands to themselves, I know this is my home and these loveable goons are my family.
Operation Jingle Bells
Devin Sumarno
Susan smiled and held the door open for her wife, who entered with her arms loaded with grocery bags. “Wow, that was quick.”
Donna returned the smile. “I thought so myself. The store was actually quite empty for the day after Christmas.”
“Morning, Mommy.” Abby gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek as she entered, carrying a small paper bag.
One hand on her pregnant belly, Susan ran the other over their daughter’s blond hair. It was fairer than her own, and not as thick as Seth’s. Today it was done up in a complicated French braid that was pinned up in a bun. Not a classical ballet bun, as Abby had explained to her once, but close enough.
“Lewis’ work?” Susan asked. Neither Seth nor his partner, Julius, had mentioned that Lewis would be staying with them for the holidays, even though he was Seth’s best friend, but it was obvious that it was the former dancer that had done Abby’s hair.
Donna glanced up from the multiple packages of pasta she was unpacking. “Lewis slept over at the dads’ house last night.”
She subtly shook her head, and Susan took that as a signal to not ask any more questions. The crease between Susan’s eyebrows remained, but she nodded a slight acknowledgement.
“And how’s your head doing, love?” Susan asked softly, brushing her fingers over Abby’s cheek.
“Better,” Abby said. “Daddy stroked my head for a whole hour before bedtime last night. How’s your head doing, Mommy?”
Susan shrugged. “Could be worse.” She had been pain free when she woke up, but her neck was feeling a little stiff now. “What was Christmas dinner like at Grandma McKenzie’s? Was she upset that you spent lunchtime with my parents?”
Abby climbed onto one of the stools beside the breakfast island. “Of course she was upset. And dinner was like always. Lots of talking about the company, about how Dad should persuade Uncle Alexander to join in, since it’s a family business. Grandma went on and on about how brothers should be able to sort their problems out, and how she couldn’t understand that they had fought over a guy like Daddy. She said that Dad could always go back to Lailani.
“That annoyed Dad so much, he even spoke up for Uncle Alexander. He asked Grandma what job she thought an architect could do in a toy company. And then there were more embarrassing stories about their childhood days together, and eventually they started yelling at each other again.”
Abby took a bunch of grapes from a bowl on the counter and popped one into her mouth. “Dad told Grandma that I had a migraine and that we couldn’t stay for long, but my guess is that he just didn’t want to leave Daddy alone with Lewis for too long. We went home right after dinner, then Daddy and Lewis watched Treasure Planet with me.”
Stowing eggs in the fridge, Donna urged, “Tell her what Grandma McKenzie got you for Christmas, Abby.”
Abby grunted. “You don’t wanna know.”
One of Susan’s neat eyebrows arched up. “Is it that bad?”
The girl made a face. “A riding hat and a trial lesson.”
“Oh well. You know, she always wanted to have a little princess that she could pamper with dresses and doll houses and fancy hair styles and so on.”
Donna said, “Hey, she’s already got Alexander—”
“Donna!” Susan cautioned, smiling to soften the implied rebuke.
“Come on, Alexander uses more hair care products in one month than I buy in a year for all three of us.”
Susan slapped her on the shoulder. “Let his hair be. He had a difficult upbringing.”
Donna bit her lips. “Yeah. Prince Charming in the Tower of Brood.”
Susan slapped her again, but had to grin herself. She turned to Abby. “Was Uncle Alexander there, too?”
Intent on the grape she was rolling around on the counter, Abby shook her head. “No. Dad said he had to work. That’s why Lewis slept over at our place.”
Susan caught another of Donna’s glances and closed her mouth, biting her lip to keep from asking her next question. Her eyes widened as she watched Donna pull bottles of liqueur, wine, and spirits out of her bags and line them up on the counter. “Holy crap! Did you rob the liquor store? What’s with all the alcohol?”
“Well, the fathers of our children, and all their friends, are coming here after two days of oh-so-happy holiday visits with their families.” Donna gave her wife a pointed look. “I thought we might all need—”
“Can I go and search for the Twister mat?” Abby interrupted. “Lewis promised he would play with me.”
“Sure, hon.” Susan kissed the crown of her head and sent her off with a pat on the back. She waited u
ntil she heard the door of the attic close before turning to Donna. “So, what the heck is going on?”
Donna flinched as she turned a bottle of whiskey in her hands. “Nothing, really.”
Susan sat on the stool that Abby had vacated. “You know something. Don’t tell me otherwise.”
Donna bit her lip and sighed. “Alexander called me.”
“Again?”
“Yup.”
“When?”
“Christmas Eve.” Donna hesitated for a moment. “At my parents’ house. When I was washing dishes.”
“Oh.” Susan knew full well they had gone for dinner with Donna’s parents, but she didn’t recall hearing anything about a phone call from Alexander. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he asked me not to.”
A frown appeared on Susan’s face. That was something new. Donna and the rather restrained Alexander had taken a liking to each other, and during the last months they’d grown close. The number of calls between them had become more frequent over the last few weeks as Alexander’s relationship with Lewis had become more complicated. But he’d never before asked Donna to be secretive about their talks. Susan didn’t know whether to be worried or cross.
“Um, okay.” She blew out a deep breath. “And…why did he call?”
“Actually, I don’t know.”
Susan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
“He didn’t want to talk about whatever was on his mind.”
“Huh? He called you just to tell you that he didn’t want to talk?”
“Uhm, yeah. Kinda. Sounds quite ridiculous when you say it out loud, but that was actually the gist of his call.”
“You were in the kitchen for an hour and a half, on Christmas Eve.”
“Yeah. There was a lot of sighing going on. Very manly sighing, of course. And I really did do the dishes, too.” Donna sighed and wiped her face. “What I did find out is that there was some kind of an incident, and that Lewis isn’t doing well. I think he was refusing to eat, at least Alexander said something about Lewis losing weight again. So Alexander brought him over to Seth’s because he thinks himself incapable of helping him. At least that’s what I think happened.”
Susan studied Donna’s face. “So,” she closed her eyes, “we have no idea if Alexander and Lewis are coming tonight?”
“Uhm, correct.”
“We don’t even know if they’re still a couple.”
“Correct.”
“We know that Alexander brought Lewis over to the dads’ for the night.”
“Correct.”
“Again.”
“Yeah.”
“We know that Julius expected Alexander to be at their mom’s last night for dinner, and Alexander didn’t show up.”
“Right.”
“And we know that Alexander doesn’t want to talk.”
“Yup.”
“Is he sure he doesn’t want to talk about whatever the damn problem is?”
“I guess.”
“Okay.” Susan raised a hand. She had confirmed that she’d understood correctly, but none of it made any sense to her. “Just wanted to make sure I have it right. So, should we be planning to do something to help them sort things out? Get them an appointment for couples therapy, maybe? Or just lock Alexander up in the attic with Lewis and make them talk. In the event that they come, that is.”
Donna sat down on a stool opposite Susan. “I wouldn’t have a clue how to help them. I mean, Alexander wasn’t even able to tell me what this is about, so… Hell, why do gay guys always have to be so complicated? And why do we only have gay friends?” She hid her face in her hands with a groan. “Maybe there would be less drama for us to sort out if they were all heterosexuals. Or women.”
“Probably. But hey, Lailani is coming, too. She’s a woman, and she’s hetero. At least I hope so for Rupert’s sake, since they’re together. See, there aren’t only gay guys on our list.”
“Uhm, yeah. But she is Julius’ ex-wife and Rupert is her husband. What I was actually referring to was us inviting other lesbians.”
“We do have lesbian friends,” Susan contradicted. “They’re just part of happy families, so they’re not likely to want to come to an anti-family Christmas party.”
“I was talking about real friends, honey, not the strange couple we met on the ferry.”
“Well, I guess the answer is because we’re too busy with work to make friends of our own. When we moved here, it was just easier to adopt Seth’s friends. That saved a lot of time. After all, I killed three birds with one stone—earning money while working with Seth in the pediatric ward, making friends with him, and finding a future father for our children.”
Donna smiled at Susan. “Maybe we should put that on our list of resolutions for next year.”
“Make new friends? Are you so unhappy with the ones we have?”
“You mean our bunch of gay perverts, who frequent a gay BDSM club and whip the skin off each other’s backs every Thursday and Saturday? No, they’re great. If they aren’t yelling at each other, making big deals out of not talking about their problems, stressing the fact that they can’t speak about their feelings, or otherwise behaving like infants, they’re totally great.”
“Are they really that bad? Is this only about Alexander, or is there something more bothering you?”
Donna sighed. “I guess the last couple of weeks have just been too much for me. The projects at work… Planning that damn charity ball alone took twice the time my boss had allowed. Then all the guys’ private dramas.” She shook her head. “I don’t get why it’s always me who has to deal with the little disasters.”
She shrugged and fumbled the grocery list out of her pocket. “It started with Eric’s move to Ridley. I understand, that Eric is asthmatic and allergic to everything that isn’t made of plastic and food that has been genetically enhanced, but he and his boyfriend together can’t even carry a stupid washing machine. Yeah, I understand that they are computer freaks and way too nerdy to eat on a regular basis, but hell, it was a washing machine, not an airbus. And why the hell is it me who always has to help out? Look at the McKenzies. Julius is what—six feet seven? And he constantly needs to rest with his broken heart syndrome. By the way—broken heart syndrome? Seriously? He can’t even have a proper heart attack, like a real man. No, Julius McKenzie gets an old ladies’ heart issue because his brother was angry with him. And yeah, there is Alexander, who is even taller, but can’t help either, because of his back.”
“He’s soon turning fifty. It’s not that easy for a man his age to haul heavy appliances up the stairs, you know.”
“Amen to that! And who else? Seth is too fragile. And we won’t even start talking about Lewis, who is fit, but in a non-muscular way.”
“Or Phineas.”
Donna threw up her hands. “Oh God. Yeah. Phileas. He’s sweet, he really is, and I’m very happy that Bruce found someone, but hell, Phileas doesn’t even reach my nipple line, not even when he’s standing on his tippies.”
“Phineas,” Susan corrected, watching Donna’s hands fiddle with the grocery list.
“Huh?”
“The boy’s name is Phineas.”
Donna looked up at her wife. “It is?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since birth, I’d guess,” Susan said with a wry grin.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Donna smiled. “Well… How lucky I called instead of sending the invitations via e-mail. That would have been embarrassing.”
“You mean just because you’ve seen him once a month for, what? Four years?”
“Well, to me he’s just ‘the boy.’”
“He’s not a boy,” Susan objected. “He’s twenty-something.”
“Yeah, that makes him twenty-something years younger than Bruce. Besides, you called Lewis ‘the boy’ for over eight years.”
“Because Alexander calls Lewis that.”
“You were the first one to call him that.”
Susan shot her wife a puzzled look. She thought hard for a moment, then her mouth crinkled into a grin. “So I did. Let’s get back to the subject at hand, should we?”
“I don’t even remember what the subject was.”
“Your rant about our family of friends not moving a washing machine.”
“Oh yes, thanks.” Donna took a deep breath. “Well, as I see it, Owen and Bruce are the only two guys in that bunch who wouldn’t first gather the others for a counsel, and then get lost in drawing an info graphic on the three ultimate ways how to carry a washer upstairs. They both would just do it. But unfortunately Owen was posing half naked on a beach in Brazil at the time, and Bruce is in a wheelchair. So, if we should ever be planning to move, we really need some more lesbian friends—there’d be less talking, more working.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Actually, I was talking about taking time to make friends. Or taking time to do anything, together.”
Susan studied the look of uncertainty on Donna’s face, and she knew what was about to come when Donna raised the paper in her hand.
“Well, can I…go through the list of the preparations for tonight with you?”
Susan rolled her eyes, but smiled as she took the list and pen from Donna’s hand. “Would I ever say no to you? Ready when you are.” She looked at her as if waiting for dictation.
Donna closed her eyes. “Okay. Picking up Abby and groceries are done. I called my boss, took my cousin’s birthday gift to the post office, got Abby’s pills from the pharmacy, and helped Bruce fix the sink. Huh… I’ve got the feeling that I have forgotten something important.”
“Darling, you always have the feeling that you forgot something important.” Susan crossed out each of the completed tasks on the paper. “It’s a symptom of your control freakiness.”
“You can’t blame me, it’s an occupational disease,” Donna argued, and then went on going through the list in her head. “I’ll have to check my e-mails to see if the dessert bowls I ordered for the New Year’s dinner have arrived. Then I’ll clean the bathrooms and mop the floors. You think just cleaning the kitchen and living room will be enough? They won’t go upstairs, will they? Oh, and I need to iron the tablecloth.”
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