Home for the Holidays: Mr Frosty Pants, Mr Naughty List

by Leta Blake

  “Well, put an end to the suspense. Tell me what it is.”

  “Nah, let’s go have a look.” His dad grinned. “It’s best when you see it.”

  As they sauntered out toward the barn, goats and dogs milled around the yard, playing together. In the fields leading down to the river, there were cows huffing in the chilling air, and everywhere RJ looked there were chickens squawking, scratching, and pecking around.

  “This is a working farm, sir?” RJ asked, keeping his best foot forward, using all the Southern manners his mama had instilled in him long ago.

  “For over a hundred and fifty years,” Rutty said. “Been a Danvers farm from the start. Used to pass down just to the boys, but the girls get included now, if’n they want. They don’t all want.” He nodded at Aaron. “Even the boys have better things to do these days than plow and feed cows.” He winked at his son. “That’s not to say I’m not real proud of my teacher here, because I am.”

  Aaron winked back at his dad but didn’t say anything.

  Rutty turned his speculative gaze on RJ again. “What do you do, son?”

  “I’m a guitarist. I tour with bands. Play music.” RJ smiled. “It’s a lot less admirable than shaping young minds or working on a farm, but I love it.”

  “So long as you love a thing, you should do it,” Rutty said, nodding firmly. “It’s the only way to live.”

  They’d reached the barn then and Rutty beckoned them inside. The scent of hay, horseflesh, and manure was familiar from a summer RJ had spent mucking stalls at a local riding school for extra cash as a teen. A horse stamped its feet in a stall nearby and Rutty called out, “I’ll let you out soon. Have some patience, darlin’, the vet says you have to take it easy a few more days.” He grabbed a handful of what looked like a combination of raisins and some kind of oats and fed it to the horse out of his palm.

  “Can I pet him?” RJ asked.

  “This is Iris, and she’s a lady. But you can certainly pet her,” Rutty said.

  RJ stepped forward and ran his hand over the horse’s neck. She turned to gaze at him with big eyes, but then went back to nuzzling Rutty. RJ patted her some more, enjoying the texture of her hair.

  Rutty gestured toward a stall with the door open. “It’s in there. Go on. Have a look.”

  “Better not be a pony, Dad,” Aaron teased. “I’m past wanting one of those.”

  Rutty laughed and continued to pet the horse in front of him. “Nah. It’s something better.”

  Aaron stopped dead outside the stall and stared with his mouth open. “No way! Where’d you say this was?”

  “Candace’s basement, believe it or not. It’s held up well, hasn’t it?”

  Aaron whistled. “You can say that again. It’s gorgeous. Just like I remember.”

  RJ abandoned the horse to go see what had made Aaron’s eyes go wide as saucers. It turned out to be a six-foot-tall, silver aluminum Christmas tree. It looked vintage, not like the new ones he’d seen in Costco. He knew the silver style had come back into fashion, if his shopping excursions with his mother the week before were any indication of current fake Christmas tree fads.

  “This was my Grandma’s,” Aaron said, noticing that RJ had crept up next to him. “Her Sapphire Regal, she always called it. Every year she used to put it up, and then she’d tell me, ‘The others can have their Douglas firs and Scotch pines, I’ll have my Sapphire Regal.’ She loved how it glittered with the colored lights on it.”

  “Couldn’t find the box for it. It was put together like that beneath a couple of blankets,” Rutty said. “Truly shocked it’s still so nice. Good thing that basement’s always been dry as a bone and rodent free. Thought you’d want it.”

  “I…well, I guess I do.” Aaron sounded surprised by the fact.

  “We found some of her old ornaments too. That box there in the corner of the stall. Candace kept some for herself, and I took the one I liked best when I was a boy. Left the rest for you. Don’t tell the other cousins. By the time they all chose out what they wanted, you’d end up getting nothing but half of a bulb to share with one of Blinker’s boys.”

  Aaron snorted. “I’ll keep my trap shut. Besides, they all have plenty of Grandma’s things.”

  “That’s God’s honest truth.”

  RJ watched Aaron carefully as he drew closer to the silver, glittering tree. His smile softened, and he touched it carefully. “I’m not sure how to get it home, though.”

  “It’ll fit in the back of the SUV,” RJ offered. “We’ll just lay the seats down, wrap it up in those blankets again, and it’ll make it just fine.”

  Aaron grinned. “Isn’t that convenient? That I’m out here with you, and you’re borrowing that SUV, and this will just happen to fit? I think you might be onto something when you said the universe was setting us up.”

  “If that’s the case, I’ll get my suit out and start prepping for a wedding,” Rutty said with a laugh. “Ain’t no use fighting the universe…or as we call it out in these parts: God.”

  “Never mind my dad. Christianity’s in the water here.”

  “I’m a Christian,” RJ said, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

  “You are?”

  “Sure.” RJ shrugged. He never went to church, and half the folks he knew from the church his mom had attended when he was little would turn their back on him for a million reasons, but he still believed. For one thing, he liked believing, for another…well, it just felt right.

  “Okay,” Aaron said. “I’m…uh, not exactly not-a-Christian.”

  “Undecided then.” RJ smiled. “Keeping your mind open. I like it.”

  Aaron smiled and nearly rolled his eyes, but then he said, “Yeah, Dad. I want to take it home.” Then he winced. “Oh, hell. Constance is going to wreck it.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” RJ said. “And maybe she won’t mess with it. Like, as a gift to you. A kindness.”

  “Constance isn’t kind,” Aaron said, contemplating the tree with one hip cocked, his lips twisting up worriedly.

  RJ pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly googled: how to keep cats away from a Christmas tree? He held out the phone to Aaron. “Look, babe, there are like twenty sites that give suggestions. This one says to put orange peels under the tree skirt because cats hate the smell of oranges.” He paused. “Do you think that’s why they used to hang oranges on the trees back in the old days? So Victorian cats stayed away?”

  Then he clicked another site. “This one says you can spritz watered-down lemon juice around it to the same effect. Not sure how that might affect the aluminum, though.”

  RJ looked up from his phone to see Rutty examining him closely, a warm expression on his face. “Listen to your boyfriend, son. He’s got it covered.”

  Aaron coughed and blushed. “He’s not my—”

  “Lover,” RJ corrected. “We’re not using boyfriend. We’re going with lover.”

  Rutty hooted and laughed until his eyes started to water.

  “What?” Aaron said, his entire face going red. “What’s funny?”

  “Oh, law. Just thinking about Christmas Eve and introducing this handsome man to the family as your lover.”

  Aaron looked at his dad like he’d gone mad. “First, no way you’re doing anything like that. Second, he’s not going to be here on Christmas Eve.”

  RJ felt oddly hurt by that comment, but he couldn’t say just why. They’d fucked for a few nights, were clearly going to continue fucking for however long his break from touring lasted, but being invited to family holidays was a big deal, like a real commitment kind of deal, and—

  Rutty interrupted RJ’s thoughts by saying, “He sure as hell is! You’ve finally brought a boy home and he’s going to be treated just like everyone else’s, ah, errr…lover—” He cut up laughing again, but after a few guffaws got it back together enough to wheeze, “I’m going to make sure of it.” He turned to RJ, still wiping at his eyes. “Supper’s at five thirt
y. Don’t worry about bringing presents. But a bottle of whiskey’s always good. Maker’s Mark is my favorite.”

  “Dad, that’s not—” Aaron started, but Rutty turned and walked from the barn, shaking his head and raising his hand to the sky.

  “I won’t hear it, Cracker. He’ll be here.”

  RJ stared after Aaron’s bear of a father in shock and then he started laughing too. “Lover,” he said, and sputtered.

  “What were you thinking telling him that?” Aaron fussed.

  RJ giggled. “He’s going to introduce me to your aunts, uncles, and cousins as your lover.”

  “Well, he’s not, actually, because you aren’t coming.” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest and gazed at the shining square of light illuminating the way out to the barnyard. A goat ambled in and bleated, kicking his feet up and down, before finding a little pile of hay and chowing down.

  “What if I want to come?” RJ said a little petulantly. “I’ve never been to a big family shindig before. My family was just me and my mom growing up.”

  “But now it’s you and your mom, and the kids, and your stepdad, and other people surely?” Aaron turned to him, confusion sliding around his face.

  “I don’t know what it’ll be like. I’ve never spent Christmas with them since they married.” RJ ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t really wanted to.”

  “You promised your brother and sister—”

  “That I’d be there on Christmas Day. And I will. But I didn’t say anything about Christmas Eve.” He paused, raising a brow. “If you don’t want me to come, Mr. Danvers, just say so.”

  Aaron swallowed and looked RJ up and down. His shoulders dropped. “I don’t know. It’s all so sudden. We barely know each other. Last week you were just a former student of mine. Now you’re…” He fidgeted and looked up at RJ through his lashes.

  “Now I’m the guy who’s made you cry with pleasure.”

  Aaron closed his eyes and swallowed. “Yeah, and that’s exactly why this is all too fast. That’s what we’ve been doing. Not whatever it is my dad thinks we’re up to.”

  “Oh, I think he’s pretty sure we’ve been doing that.”

  “You know what I mean. He thinks we’re an item. Two men making a go at something real.”

  RJ had an urge to say they could be those guys. But they couldn’t. They would never be. How fucked up was that? And how much more fucked up that RJ’s stomach hurt over it? Aaron was right. They’d really only known each other for less than a week.

  “Let’s talk about it next week, maybe,” Aaron said, obviously compromising for show only. He ran a hand into his hair, conflicted distraction laying over his pretty features. “You know, if we’re even still doing this next week.”

  RJ turned back to the Christmas tree in the stall. The shining joy of it spattered light all around the wood enclosure. He’d let all of this get to him. The heat of the sex, the sweetness of Aaron’s hand in his own, and the thrill of Rutty’s easy acceptance. He’d let his mind and heart go too fast. He looked foolish.

  “Fair enough, Mr. Danvers,” RJ said, putting his chin up. He hoped Aaron didn’t notice the hint of lingering, irrational hurt under his false cheerfulness. “What do you say we load this tree and these ornament boxes into my car?” He pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. “Yeah. Wow, it’s almost two. I should probably be getting back to town soon. I have that show tonight. I should prepare for it.”

  Aaron stepped closer and touched his arm. “RJ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s not that I wouldn’t be proud to tell my family about you, but we just aren’t there. I don’t think either of us plans to ever be there. Am I right? You’re leaving soon. I’m not out at my job and don’t want to be.”

  RJ stared down at him. There was a lie in that, about not wanting to be out at his job. RJ sensed it. “And why is that?”

  “Why is what?”

  “Why are you closeted in your job? Is the school homophobic?”

  Aaron scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Christ, it’s such a long story. Can I tell you later? I’m not blowing you off, but, like you said, we should get going soon.”

  Rutty walked back into the barn with some big, old blankets hefted over his shoulder.

  Aaron cast his voice lower. “Besides, now isn’t the time or place for this tale.”

  RJ nodded, swallowed down his unfair and ugly hurt, and plastered a smile on for Rutty’s sake. “Let me help with those, sir. We’d love to stay longer, but I’ve got a show in town tonight, and I need to be getting back.”

  Rutty clapped him on the shoulder. “Sure thing, son. But don’t be a stranger. Now that Aaron’s brought you, I want to see you again soon. Like, say, on Christmas Eve.”

  “Dad, stop, please.”

  After they’d figured out how to lay the seats down in the Lexus, laid out protective blankets, and loaded in the blanket-wrapped tree, Rutty said to Aaron, “You can keep all those quilts. My Aunt Gladdy made about a hundred before she died. I don’t need more than a couple. If you don’t want ’em, give some to your mama. Just don’t say they came from me. Make it a gift from you somehow.” He shook his head and let loose a bitter sound. “That woman would vomit up a beautiful steak dinner if she found out that I was the one to grill it.”

  Aaron nodded with downcast eyes. He’d been solemn ever since their short private discussion, but he seemed to summon a small smile for his father. “Thanks for everything, Dad.”

  Rutty glanced between them, and RJ gave the man a stiff smile, hoping it looked less awkward than he felt right now. Rutty lifted a brow. “Ah, Cracker, c’mere.”

  He tugged Aaron aside, and RJ pretended that he couldn’t hear every word, continuing to tuck blankets around the tree in the SUV and keeping his back turned. He winced a little at what he did hear, though.

  “I don’t know what was said or done in the little bit o’ time since you first showed up here looking like a light had been turned on in your soul. I don’t know what happened to make that light turn off again. But, please, son. Don’t be like your mother. Don’t ruin perfectly good things just because they aren’t what you planned.”

  “Dad, that’s not—”

  “Just think on it.” Rutty hugged Aaron and then pulled away, starting to lumber back up to the house. “Good to meet you, RJ. Thanks for coming out.”

  “Thanks for the warm welcome,” RJ said, waving as he and Aaron climbed into the SUV and put on their seat belts. “Your dad’s nice.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron agreed.

  RJ started the car and decided to risk a question. He’d already spilled some of his darkest history earlier in the day. It could be Aaron’s turn if he was willing. “So, I didn’t mean to overhear, but what was that about your mom?”

  They circled around in the yard, heading back down the bumpy driveway, avoiding goats and dogs. Aaron groaned. “It’s another long story, sort of connected to the first long story.”

  RJ glanced at Aaron. His dad was right. Whatever light had been shining in him when they’d arrived was definitely dimmed now. Aaron was just as handsome as before. Maybe, in a weird way, even more so, with his expression so solemn and his vulnerability leaking out all over the car. RJ wanted to hold him close, soothe him, and force the layers of his brittle, protective shell to split open. Force him to let it all go.

  RJ took another chance, because Aaron Danvers brought out the risk taker in him. He cleared his throat and prompted, “A long story, huh? Well, it’s a long ride back home.”

  Home. Wow. How was it that Aaron’s little loft had come to mind when he’d said that word? He’d only been in it twice, and it wasn’t exactly the coziest of places. RJ could think of a hundred improvements to make for comfort: a few cat-safe house plants here and there, colored curtains that billowed and shifted the light, and warm, soft quilts to huddle under on the sofa. Hey, at least the last item was covered now, what with the quilts around the tree in the back.

  But Aar
on’s apartment wasn’t his home. So why had it come to mind instead of Mom and Doug’s place?

  “All right,” Aaron said, a little resentfully. “Let me figure out where to start. What harm can it do to tell you?”

  RJ hoped it wouldn’t do any harm at all. But he couldn’t be sure. Aaron was pricklier than ever as he started his story.

  “My mom is the principal of the school where I teach. But I guess the story begins way before that. It starts with the divorce. I was ten.”

  RJ listened and as he did, he clenched the steering wheel harder and harder. His mother had been neglectful, sure, but only because she’d had no choice. Aaron’s mother was outright mean, and for no real reason RJ could discern. She was blessed with Aaron for a son—a beautiful man, a good person, and an excellent teacher. What was wrong with Aaron’s mother that he wasn’t her pride and joy?

  RJ hadn’t ever despised a person he’d never met before, but the more he listened, the closer he came to just that.

  Chapter Eighteen

  RJ’s voice held daggers as he whispered, “Wait, wait. She actually said, ‘Don’t embarrass me, Aaron’? That was her motherly advice the first day you started work in her school?”

  “Yep.”

  They were back at the loft. Aaron’s story about his parents’ ugly divorce, the custody fights, and his own difficult relationship with his mother as a teen, and now as an adult, had taken the entire ride back to Knoxville to impart.

  He’d divulged the finer details of her role in Aaron remaining closeted at school as they’d carried the tree inside and unwrapped it, though he’d avoided mentioning the humiliation of Coach McAllister. And he’d kept right on talking as they mixed up a formula of vinegar, baking soda, and hot water to clean Grandma’s ornaments.

  Constance sat beneath the tree staring up at it in awe, but so far hadn’t tried to climb it. Thank God.