by B. G. Thomas
They were hungry, and they found a frozen pizza and put that in and devoured it while spaghetti noodles boiled and then had that too, smothered in a sauce Jake somehow whipped up. It was surprising how utterly enchanting surviving a fire, metamorphosing from a dog into a man, and your human finding out his dog was his boss could be.
When they were finally ready for bed, there was no discussion, no questions, about where Jake would sleep. They’d shared the same bed for weeks. Sharing it that night kept them sane. Of course, Ned didn’t curl up in a ball at the foot of the bed.
They spooned together the same way they climbed into the same bed. Without discussion. But then, there hadn’t been much conversation, had there? Since Ned had transformed. Since the being in a garnet-red robe appeared and vanished. No discourse on the nature of impossible things or magic or forces of nature. And that is what the being had been who put Ned through all he’d been through. A force of nature. Or at least the holidays.
No, words came later, as the days passed. They drew close, neither wanting to break the silence.
Except….
“Oh God,” Jake whispered after they crawled into bed together that first night back at Ned’s. “The… the things I told you.”
“The kinds of things you would only tell your barber, your bartender, or your dog.” Then Ned pulled Jake close and kissed the back of his neck. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”
“Did you mean it?” Jake asked.
“You… you heard me?” Because hadn’t he thought it, since he had not had the ability to actually use words?
“Yes,” Jake said, and Ned felt a shiver of goose bumps.
“Then I meant it,” Ned replied and then felt the rush of it. Unconditional love. It felt wonderful.
“Me too,” Jake said.
But they did not make love that night.
3
OF COURSE, they had to come up with a story about where he’d been. And there was a story. While Ned Balding’s disappearance might not have been of interest to Anderson Cooper or Scott Pelley or Diane Sawyer, in Kansas City his reappearance garnered at least a spot by KMBC’s Kris Keta and a story on page three by Taylor Dunton in the Chronicle.
What surprised Ned was how far his sister was willing, with no explanation—what could he tell her that wouldn’t get him committed?—to go along with his story as long as it didn’t get her into trouble. She had children to take care of, after all.
“I went on… sabbatical. There was a lot of pressure in my life since my father’s death, I was working impossible hours, and I’m sure if you asked the people who work for me, they’d tell you I’d turned into a bit of a… bastard.”
Taylor Dunton did ask.
“Well…,” Yvonne Delany said, when he asked her, “He’d certainly been cranky lately.” The article didn’t mention if her Boston accent was coming through or not. Lord, Ned had missed that nasal tone. “But since he’s been back, he’s like… wow! The old Mr. Balding!”
“And that’s a good thing?” Dunton asked.
“Boy howdy! Do you know he bought every one of us a Christmas ham? And a bunch of his clients too!”
“You ever going to tell me where you were?” Patricia asked him.
“One day. I hope. Right now, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You might have me locked up.”
Patricia pursed her lips, brushed long, dark hair back with her hand. “I could probably force you to talk to doctors right now.”
“I hope you won’t.”
“You could have warned us you were leaving. Even a note. ‘I’m all right. I’ll be back.’”
“I’m sorry.”
“I did step in and take over with no real idea what I was doing.”
“And you did an amazing job.”
She blinked at him. Continued. “Thank you, Ned. I did my best. I know you probably won’t approve of everything I did, but….”
“I was especially impressed with the day care,” he said. “Where’d you get that idea?”
She blushed. “Well, Nine to Five, actually.”
“The movie?” he asked.
She nodded. “We have less tardies and absences. We weren’t using those two rooms anymore. And the lady who runs it isn’t on our payroll… she actually pays to use the space.” She grimaced.
After a moment, he added, “What would you think about giving Perry a job?”
She paused. “I think he’ll most likely fail big-time. But you never know. With the time he’s served, he hasn’t been able to get a halfway decent job. Maybe if we give him a chance, maybe this time he’ll take it seriously. Maybe he only needs a goal.”
Ned nodded. “They say a person can do anything if someone believes in them.”
She looked at him long and hard. Nodded again. “You really have changed.”
Ned gave a laugh. “You wouldn’t believe.”
“Try me.”
Ned smiled. “Not today. Probably not tomorrow. After that, we’ll see.”
4
THEY TOOK up a collection at work to help Jake, who of course had lost everything. They came up with over $800. But then, people loved him. And when Lillian handed him the money, a half-dozen people stood behind her, held hands out in front of them, and brought them down slowly as they said, “Take it easy….”
Jake cried.
Ned beamed with pride. Jake was worth it.
It was never official that Jake moved in with Ned. He just never moved out of the house or Ned’s room.
It was the fourth night when they made tentative love. They were both scared. After all, the origin of their love was probably one of the strangest stories ever told. Probably. But again, who knew? Maybe stories like theirs were more common than they could know. Making love, though, was a scary step. What if it destroyed everything?
It didn’t. The next night, their lovemaking was passionate. Ned took Jake long and hard and intensely. He needed to prove to himself he was a man. And Jake wanted the same.
5
TWO DAYS later, Ned signed the divorce papers.
6
THE EMT found them two months after the night of the fire. He showed up on their doorstep, and it took Ned a moment to realize who he was. After all, this was a fine bright day, even if it was cold, and not the burning night when they had met. And the man was wearing jeans and a bright Chiefs winter jacket, not his EMT uniform. Ned was also not in the worst pain of his life.
“Hello,” the man said. “Mr. Balding. My name is Mike Pershing. I’m… I’m….”
“I know who you are,” Ned said. “H-how can I help you?”
There was a gasp behind Ned, and he knew who it was, of course. Jake.
“Well…,” the EMT said. “I….”
“Would you like to come in, Mr. Pershing?” Jake said. “I was just about to make some coffee.”
Mike smiled. He gave a sigh that could only be relief. “That would be wonderful.”
Ned wasn’t so sure. He didn’t like to dwell on that night. Not that he could help it.
They sat in the living room on the cool-mint-green couch and matching chair that used to be dark gray. Jake had asked if they could reupholster them. He didn’t like the color, and Ned found he no longer did either.
“I’ve been building the courage and then losing it over and over again since that night,” Mike said, “to come talk to you.”
Ned and Jake nodded.
“And finally something happened that pushed me into it.”
“Oh,” Jake said. “What was that?”
“I’ll tell you,” Mike answered. “But first….” He looked away. Then slowly looked back. “Did that really happen? Did I see you…?” He turned to Ned. “Did I really see you…?” He gulped. “Christ.” Sighed. “Did you…? Were you…?”
“Yes,” Ned begrudgingly admitted.
Jake placed a hand on Ned’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.
“Geez,” Mike said and slowly let out a long, l
ong breath. “I’m not sure if I’m relieved or not. Because I thought I was going crazy. And I’m glad I’m not. But the alternative—”
“Yes?” Ned asked.
“—is pretty scary.”
Ned nodded. “Yeah.”
“That people can…. That they can really…. Wait. Are you, like, a werewolf or something?”
Ned laughed. Although it wasn’t very hearty. “No. Just plain old… dog.”
“How…?”
“He pissed off Santa Claus,” Jake said.
“Jake!” Ned cried.
“Then…. The man who…. That man… Santa?”
Ned gave a slight shrug. “Or something.”
“Something…,” Mike whispered.
He looked back and forth between them.
“Real.”
“Are you going to tell anyone?” Jake asked.
Mike laughed. “Who would believe me?” Then abruptly he stood up and headed for the door.
“Wait,” said Ned. “You said you’d tell us what finally made you come here.”
Mike closed his eyes.
Opened them.
Opened his mouth. Closed it.
Then, “My boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend?” Jake asked.
He nodded. “We were going through a bunch of his stuff. Separating it. What he was keeping. What he was getting rid of.” He paused. Took a breath. “And then there was a picture of the two of you.”
“Two of us?” Ned asked.
And then it hit him.
Mike.
The man at the lake.
Not Mike Etchison, the stripper from The Male Box.
Mike Pershing.
This man.
One more insane irony.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” Mike Pershing said very quietly.
“Do you love him?” Ned asked.
“I do,” Mike said. “I really do.”
Ned said, “I’m glad.”
7
NINE MONTHS later Perry was promoted to team lead. He caught on to the whole glue gun system very quickly. Long streams of warm glue were slowly laid down in continuous “tubes” on a conveyor. It soon hardened, and a second machine chopped them into pieces. Depending on the thickness and length of the cylindrical sections, they could be used for everything from major industrial purposes all the way down to the simple hobby glue gun. But the company also made all kinds of glue, even the common white glue used in almost every home.
However, once in a while the glue machines would go a little crazy and send glue flying in every direction. Perry soon became jokingly known as Jake’s padawan for the speed with which he could jump in and get everything under control.
And of course, what would he say whenever chaos ensued?
“Take it easy.”
By Christmas, things had gotten even better for him….
8
A WEEK before Christmas, Ned stopped by Target. A few days before, he and Jake had been shopping, and he saw the way Jake had been eyeing a lovely sweater. He only hoped it was there. As he climbed out of his car, he heard a ringing bell.
It wasn’t until he was halfway to the door that he realized what he was hearing was a Salvation Army Santa Claus. He froze for a moment, unable to move, not sure what to do.
But then he saw the man was African American. It allowed him to move. As he got closer, he saw the Santa was a big woman. Safe. Whew.
He still reached into his pocket, dug out a ten, and stuffed it into the slot of the red kettle hanging from its tripod. He was starting on toward the door when he heard “God bless you, Ned Balding. Merry Christmas.”
He froze again, gooseflesh running up and down his arms. He turned. Slowly.
The Santa was smiling. She winked.
For one split second, she seemed to be more. A lot more. She almost felt….
No.
He smiled.
“Merry Christmas,” he said.
9
AFTER BREAKFAST, they started doing the prep work for Christmas dinner. Nothing to actually put in the oven yet; that would come later. But there would be fourteen for dinner, and they were both excited—and antsy.
They’d exchanged their presents the night before. Ned hadn’t followed his father’s tradition of one present—
“And one only!”
—since he’d moved out on his own.
One of the presents made their lovemaking that evening quite… fun.
But there was still one more gift. One that would involve at least an hour of their day. The timing needed to be very precise. They had a twenty-pound turkey. That would take a good four hours to cook. Dinner was at two. So no messing around. Get there. Get back. And of course, the time it might take for Jake to make his pick while they were there.
“Boy?” Jake said as Ned checked the kitchen clock for the dozenth time.
“Yes?” he replied, only half paying attention to Jake.
“There’s someplace I want us to go this morning.”
“Uh-huh,” Ned said, pulling out his cell phone to see if he’d gotten a text. He was still afraid Emily would change her mind. It was Christmas Day, after all. And the last time he’d checked, the sky looked like snow. And all of this really could be an inconvenience.
“Did you hear me, Ned?”
“Sure,” he said looking up from his cell. No. Wait. “What did you say?”
“I said there’s someplace I want us to go this morning.”
Ned’s eyes went wide. “Huh?”
“There’s someplace—”
“No!” he cried with a little too much force.
Jake drew back, startled.
Crap! Ned reached out and touched Jake’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to sound like that. It’s just….” He grinned foolishly. “I have one more Christmas present for you.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “You do? I have one for you too. That’s where I want to go.”
Ned’s heart swelled. God, how was he this lucky? “Thank you, baby. But I have an appointment for yours. And we really need to go now. Especially if we’re going to be back in time to get the turkey in the oven.”
Jake beautiful dark eyes clouded ever so slightly. “Well….” He sighed, and Ned couldn’t help but hear the disappointment. “If I have to.”
Ned considered calling Emily and asking her if they could wait until the next day. But then he remembered why she’d been willing to let him bring Jake over today. She and her husband were heading to New Hampshire tomorrow morning very early to see their other daughter—the one who didn’t live here in Kansas City, as opposed to the one who had brought his attention to her mother and Jake’s gift in the first place.
“Jake. I’m sorry. But I think you’re really going to like this. And if you don’t, we don’t even have to take… it.”
Jake’s brows shot up again. “We don’t have to take it?”
“Nope.”
Ned had certainly gotten enough advice, even from H.D., not to pick out such a gift for someone. That they had to do the actual picking or there could be some unfortunate results. Why, he’d even read a story by Stephen King, of all people, that gave the same caution. And if the Master of Horror gave such counsel, it was important to listen.
Jake gave a little nod. “Okay.”
“So get your coat on?”
A few minutes later they were on the road, which was wonderfully clear. A quick check on his cell before starting the GPS revealed that the snow had been pushed back until nine that evening and downed from three-to-four inches to perhaps under one. Which was a good thing considering a certain training that was to come.
Ned knew Jake was going to like what he’d planned.
He had to.
Jake was quiet for most of the trip, but the closer they got, the more odd looks he gave Ned. When they turned down the tiny country road, only gravel at this point—and he loved that such quiet country existed such a short distance from such a big
city as Kansas City—Jake finally spoke.
“Ned?”
He turned to Jake. “Yes?”
He was smiling. “You found out! Who told you?”
It was Ned’s turn to raise his eyebrows in curiosity. “Told me what?”
“About your Christmas present.”
Ned turned the car right at the long driveway with the mailbox that said Arehart. What was Jake talking about? “We’re here to get your Christmas present. Not mine.”
Jake shook his head and laughed. “Well, I’ll be,” he said and laughed again.
It was a long drive, but they reached the house in a moment. It was two stories with a wide porch that went from one end of the front of the house to the other. Ned beeped his horn twice, and before they had climbed out of the car, the front door opened and a thin older woman—at least sixty-five—opened the door and stepped out. She waved, smiling.
“Merry Christmas,” she called out.
“I love you,” Ned said.
“I’m still confused,” Jake said.
Which confused Ned. Because he still didn’t understand why Jake was confused.
“I think you’ll understand in a minute,” Ned replied. “And I hope you’re even half as excited as I am.” Because there was still that whole thing about how it was a mistake to ever buy someone a pet. Especially a cat or a dog. Because you never knew who a random animal might bond with. Which was why Ned had brought Jake here. To get the pick of the litter. “Come on, baby.” He got out of the car and Jake followed.
“Mrs. Arehart?” Ned called out as they walked up to the porch.
“That’s me.” She was grinning and looking back and forth. It was actually a little weird. “Which of you is Ned and which of you is Jake?”
“I’m Ned,” he said. “And this is my—”
“Jake,” Jake said.
“It’s nice to meet you both after talking to you on the phone.”
