I looked to Martina for help, but none was forthcoming. “I call dibs on that toddler train set,” she called out as she climbed in the back seat of my SUV.
“Dang it,” my mom said. “Okay, but I get to buy that Victorian dollhouse.”
“Wait! They’re too little for train sets and dollhouses yet,” I told them. I appreciated their holiday enthusiasm, but what was the point of buying a house full of stuff the kids can’t play with for years?
“Darling, these are age appropriate,” my mother said patiently. “We’re not idiots.”
“I never said that, Mom.”
“Not in so many words,” she countered. “Have a little faith in us, honey. Martina and I did a wonderful job with our own kids.” She wasn’t wrong.
“Yes, Mother.”
Mere and Chaz were ready to go when I swung by their homes. Chaz had a ginormous cup of coffee, and Mere had something that smelled like chamomile tea. I was convinced more than ever that Meredith and Harley were expecting their first child. She had never gone shopping without a large cup of coffee to spark her to life.
“I bet a fight breaks out over toasters or some stupid shit,” Chaz said hopefully. He was only there to people watch. “If something exciting happens, I can add it to the last-minute revisions of my Christmas novella.”
“What’s this book about, honey?” Martina asked eagerly.
“A stubborn, sassy hairstylist who fights his attraction to his true love,” Chaz replied.
“Does Wren know that you’re writing a book about him?” I asked innocently.
Mere giggled in the middle of the back seat. “Good one, Jazz.” I glanced up and caught her eye in the rearview mirror. She grinned from ear to ear, looking happier than I’d ever seen her—including her wedding day. I was looking forward to the moment when I could stop playing dumb and congratulate her.
“Wren is stoic and mysterious, not stubborn and sassy,” Chaz replied. “My new character resembles a certain blond guy we all know and love.”
“I’d make a terrible book character,” I said, waving off the idea as ridiculous. “Besides, I know you’re just yanking my chain.”
“Am not,” Chaz said. “I even have a working title for the first book.”
“Really? And what would it be?”
“The Brazilian.”
“As in wax?” Mere asked.
“Uh huh,” Chaz said absently, and I knew he was mentally making book notes. “It’s also the nationality of the dead guy our salon owner trips over in the alley behind his shop. I want each of the book titles to be a play on salon services.”
“Oh! The second book can be called The Blow Job! It’s what we jokingly call a blowout,” Mere said to the moms.
“I’m not sure how well that title would go over,” Chaz said.
“Are you kidding?” my mom asked. “It would be awesome. This series would be great with graphic covers.”
“Blow Me, Baby!” Martina blurted out enthusiastically from her shotgun position, sounding a lot like my blue-feathered pet.
“Oh! I like that even better,” Mere said. “It’s suggestive without being crude.”
“Curled Hard and Put Away Wet,” my mom suggested.
“Oh man! These are great,” Chaz told them.
I didn’t have to look to know that he was making notes in his phone. I smiled as I merged into traffic with the rest of the insane people out and about before the sun was even up. I had a feeling it was going to be a day I never forgot.
“Excuse me, Officer. I do believe I’m entitled to a phone call.” The cop just sneered as he slammed my cell door shut. Fuck my life!
“You’ve been watching too much television,” he groused.
“No, it’s because my husband is a police captain,” I said firmly. It sounded better than reciting episodes of The Closer.
That got his attention. He turned, gave me a harsh once-over, then sneered. “Yeah, right,” was all he said before he walked away.
“Blissville Police Department,” I yelled, but wasn’t sure if he heard me before he closed the door.
I flopped down on the hard bench then winced. How the fuck did things escalate to the point that I was arrested? My mom, that’s how! Not that it was her fault, but it didn’t matter, because Gabe was going to kill me. He’d especially be angry if we were late getting home and ruined his tree chopping excursion. I vacillated between wanting them to leave me there and calling Gabe to get me out of the slammer. I feared his reaction, even though I knew damn well that I was justified.
Apparently, the officer must’ve heard me and decided to look up the name of the BPD’s captain and saw that our names did match because he came back not fifteen minutes later and released me on my own recognizance with a warning.
“You’re lucky the lady didn’t want to press charges,” he told me.
“I’m lucky? You watch that video footage and tell me how lucky I am,” I replied, shaking my head. “That lady was a psycho who physically attacked my mother, yet somehow I was the one who was arrested.” The more I thought about it, the angrier I got, but I could see I was barking up the wrong tree with Officer Numb Nuts.
“Joshy!” My mom burst into tears when I walked out of the holding area. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? I called Gabe and he took care of everything.” There went my chance of burying this under the damn rug.
Lord, the only thing injured on me was my pride. “I’m fine, Mama. It’s best we get on home, so I can face the music.”
“I told Gabe everything that happened,” my mother tearfully assured me. “He knows that your arrest was bullshit.”
I appreciated my mom’s optimistic outlook, but I knew my husband was most likely wearing out a hole in the carpet from pacing. He wouldn’t look at my actions as justified, he would view them as potential for getting hurt. I reminded myself that fear would be at the heart of the blustery reception I could expect to receive.
“He wants you to call him,” my mom added when we got in the SUV.
I wasn’t dumb, I dialed him straight away.
“Do you have me on speakerphone, Josh?” he asked in a dangerously dark voice. See! Not dumb. He wouldn’t blast me like he wanted to with everyone listening. He’d have an hour to calm down before we got home, longer if we stopped for lunch.
“Yes,” I said, trying to sound calm. The truth was I was afraid, not of Gabe hurting me, but of seeing disappointment in his eyes. I was used to seeing love, respect, and adoration when he looked at me. Sure, I’d made him mad, or confused him plenty of times, but I never disappointed him. The fact that he used Josh instead of Sunshine was the biggest clue as to the trouble I was in. “I’m sorry, Gabe.”
He released a long, frustrated sigh. “Just get home safe, Sunshine.”
I released a sigh of relief. “I will.” I disconnected the call and asked, “Who’s hungry?”
“No way,” Mere said. “We’re going straight home.”
“But, Mere.”
“Can it,” she firmly said. “You did nothing wrong and we’re going to tell Gabriel so. It was complete bullshit what that woman did then cried foul when you called her out.”
“I got it on video!” Martina exclaimed. “So help me God, I’ll release this on You TV if they show a false portrayal on the news.” I suspected that Martina was about as familiar with social media as her beloved son and meant YouTube, but I certainly wasn’t about to correct her. I needed her on my side.
I groaned because I hadn’t even thought about cell phone videos. Oh man. There’d be ten different edited versions floating around by the time I got home.
“It was a setup,” Chaz said calmly. “We’ll make sure Gabe listens and understands.”
Too bad Gabe grabbed me by my Burberry scarf and practically dragged me up the steps to our bedroom without giving my fan club a chance to talk him down. “Are you okay?” he asked, but he sounded more pissed than concerned.
“My pride is hurt that I didn’t see that setup for what it w
as,” I replied. “Your mother has the entire video on her phone.”
“Great, we can show it to Dylan and Destiny as part of your highlight reel, because I can guarantee there will be plenty more fits in the future,” he said hotly.
I put my hands on my hips and aimed my best indignant expression his way. “And just what do you expect me to throw a fit about, Gabriel?” Apparently, he didn’t notice my tone of voice or the way I skipped using his nickname.
“If Dylan doesn’t make captain of the baseball team or Destiny doesn’t make the cheer squad,” Gabe said. “Oh, I bet you’d raise a fuss if you’re not allowed to send birthday treats to school. I hear that they’re cracking down on that stuff nowadays. No cupcakes and fruit punch, you get carrots and water.” He kept rambling on, completely unaware that I was stewing.
“Maybe I get my knickers in a knot if Dylan doesn’t make the cheer squad or Destiny doesn’t make captain of her softball team,” I corrected him. “It’s a little early to be deciding their extracurricular activities, isn’t it? I’d also like to think that as gay men we wouldn’t guess their hobbies based on their gender either.”
“Now, Sunshine, you’re deliberately misunderstanding what I meant, so you can divert the attention away from yourself. That’s not going to work this time,” Gabe said, but I noticed he was quick to drop my cutesy name.
“Save it, Gabe. I’m not in the mood. I need to put on warmer clothes if we’re going to traipse through the woods to find the perfect tree.” I heard the deflation in my voice, and I was sure he did too, but did he understand why? I thought that disappointment was the worst thing I could see in his eyes, but I was wrong. Ridicule was far worse. He didn’t give me a chance to explain anything, he assumed the worst, and mocked me. It felt a lot like the time we broke up two years ago. I knew we were in a much stronger place, but damn it still hurt. “Just give me a few minutes to myself please. The twins have new snowsuits in their closet.”
“Sunshine…”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
I walked to our closet and willed him not to follow me. Thankfully, something went right for me that day because he honored my request and had the twins suited up by the time I joined our family.
I planted a fake-ass smile on my face, but I could tell that I wasn’t fooling anyone. “Is everyone ready?”
We crammed ourselves into the minivan with all the enthusiasm of people attending a wake. I wanted to do or say something to lighten the mood, but you know what? Fuck it! Gabe wisely kept his mouth shut during the drive out to the tree farm, which was good because I was working myself into a good snit.
How dare he? Gabe was supposed to know me better than anyone, but he thought I actually hit that woman over a thirty-dollar plastic toy.
I wanted to hold onto that anger, but I had to admit that the atmosphere at the Christmas tree farm was majestic. The buildings looked like rustic log cabins you’d expect to see in the mountains. I saw a gift shop, a café where you could buy hot beverages and other goodies to eat on your excursion, and the stable where you boarded the sled. Each of the buildings were decorated with tasteful white Christmas lights. I guess I expected something cheesy like dancing snowmen or Santa inflatables instead of the Norman Rockwell experience it turned out to be.
“Mom, can you take the twins a minute, so I can talk to Josh?”
“Sure,” both moms replied.
“I’m not sure I want to talk to you right now, Gabe,” I said after he pulled me to the rear of the vehicle.
“I know that you don’t, but I don’t like this tension between us.” Gabe breathed deeply, held it for a few heartbeats, then released it slowly. “I know damn well that you didn’t hit some lady at the fucking toy store. I knew it before my mom snatched me by the shirt and made me watch that woman throw herself down and scream foul.” He ran the back of his hand over my cheek before trailing his fingers over my lips. “I was just worried that you could’ve been hurt. You know I don’t react well when your safety is in question.”
“I know,” I replied softly. I couldn’t hold onto my hissy fit when he looked at me with his melted-chocolate eyes. Damn him. “What about the rest of it?”
“Sunshine, I will never be the father who stifles his children. If Dylan wants to be a cheerleader then I promise to be the best cheer dad on the planet. If Destiny wants to play softball, I’ll teach her how to slide into home base. Tell me that you believe me.”
“I do.” I knew in my heart that Gabe was just using examples earlier and not trying to pigeonhole our kids into gender specific roles. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve been smarter.”
“Hopefully, it will all blow over,” Gabe said. “If not, my mom is ready to release her video on You TV.” He rolled his eyes. “Even I know it’s called YouTube.”
“What else is bothering you?” I asked when I saw that our reconciliation only chipped away at his tension.
“Damn Christmas Bandits struck again.”
“Bandits?” I questioned.
“They hit too many houses for it to be one person and not get caught.”
“What happened this time?”
“They cut the wires for exterior lights and stole a bunch of lawn ornaments,” Gabe replied. “I had hoped the incident at Santa’s Village was going to be an isolated stupid prank, but it’s not looking good.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I know you’re going to arrest these Christmas Bandits.”
“We better get going if we’re going to find a tree while there’s still light,” Al said, interrupting us.
“Be right there, Dad,” Gabe replied. “But not before I do this.” He gave me a quick kiss full of passion and promise. “Let’s go find our perfect tree.”
The sleigh ride was fun, the hot chocolate was delicious, and we found the most amazing tree for our family room. As nice as all of that was, my favorite part was when Gabe took off his coat to reveal a red-and-black-checked flannel shirt. He rolled up his sleeves and began chopping down the tree with the ax in smooth, steady swings. His big strong hands, and thick forearms made me shiver hard and sweat beneath the fur-lined flannel blanket.
I finally understood the hype about lumbersexuals, and I was going to show him my wood at my earliest opportunity.
Damn, whose bright idea was it to cut down the fucking tree and drag the fucker home? Oh, yeah. Mine. I was starting to get grumpy until I saw that familiar, but never old, gleam in Josh’s eyes that told me something I was doing turned him on. I was so getting lucky, even though I’d acted like a jerk. Because I wanted to please my husband, I really gave him a show. I put everything I had into my swings and went full-out Paul Bunyan on that bitch.
“You might want to take it easy,” my dad called out. “You don’t want to throw your back out.”
I scoffed of course because I was in the best shape of my… “Oh, fuck!” I dropped the ax to the ground, narrowly missing my toes on my right foot, when the mother of all spasms wracked my lower back. “Son of a bitch!”
“Gabe!” my mother admonished. “The children.” She and Bertie placed their hands over Dylan and Destiny’s ears, which were covered with both a thick, knit hat and the hood of their snowsuits. They were a scarf away from looking like Randy from A Christmas Story. Even if they did hear through the multiple layers, those kids had heard far worse from the birds.
“Hurts bad.” Damn me and all my showing off.
Josh was there in a flash, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “Baby, what can I do?” I tried to stand up but another spasm wracked my body hard. It hurt so bad I thought I was going to puke.
“I have muscle relaxers at home, son,” my dad said when he joined Josh and me. “I get spasms occasionally and they’re the very devil. Add in a hot shower and you’ll be just fine. Let me help you to the sleigh.” My dad was the only one big enough to support my weight. I threw my arm around his neck and leaned into him while Josh walked ahead to move everyone around so I could sit in the front row. I wa
s pissy that I was missing my chance to grope him beneath the blanket in the back row of the sleigh.
“We can’t leave without the tree,” I said between gritted teeth.
“I’ll finish it,” he said. “You could’ve had that thing cut in two by now if you weren’t showing off for your man.” His chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I swear to God, you’re just like your old man. Flexing your muscles and carrying on.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s natural to strut your stuff like a banty rooster. Let’s make you as comfortable as we can, and I’ll push the tree the rest of the way over. ” His laughter echoed through the pines. I was glad he was having such a good laugh at my expense.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” Josh said. At least my husband was sympathetic to my misery.
“Why are you apologizing?” I asked. “I’m probably the one who jinxed this outing with my dickish behavior before we left.”
“You were just worried about me, Gabe. Sure, you could’ve handled it better, but I always know your blustering comes from a place of love.”
“That doesn’t make it o-o-ouch! Damn it!”
“Hurry, Al,” Martina said. I expected my dad to already have the tree chopped down, but instead, he stood there posturing so my mom could get an eyeful. “Oh my!” she said.
“Ewwww,” Josh and I said at the same time.
Of course, mine started out “ewww” but ended with an “owww.”
Our sleigh driver, coincidentally named Nick, tried to get us back as fast as he could while jostling me as little as possible, but it was pure misery.
“Maybe we should take you to Urgent Care for X-rays,” Josh suggested.
“Let me try taking one of my dad’s muscle relaxers first,” I told him, squeezing the hand he placed on my knee. I gasped as my muscles contracted and twitched painfully. “If that doesn’t help then we’ll go back out and leave the babies at home with our folks.”
It sounded like a good idea, but Josh ended up driving us all straight to Urgent Care when the pain became too intolerable for me to take. It was the last way I wanted to spend a Friday evening with my family, but I worried that my dad’s pills wouldn’t be strong enough.
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