Turkey in the Snow

by Amy Lane

  Hank’s heart gave an excruciatingly awkward lurch in his chest. “Yes,” he confessed. “I really love having her here.” He gestured vaguely back toward Josie. “We found a really nice daycare lady—Mrs. Watson, her name’s on the paperwork. I spent all Saturday remodeling her room, and I’ve adjusted my workout so the gym childcare guy is the one she really loves. I’ve started going running on my lunch hour so I don’t have to go to the gym so much when he’s not there. I’ve added her to my health insurance and she’s had a dentist appointment and a checkup and I just… I really like having her here. It’s hard—harder than anything I thought I’d do. I can see why Amanda bailed. But I don’t want to bail. I want Josie to know her people are right where she left them when she wakes up.”

  Mrs. Ramirez nodded some more and made some more checks on her list. Then she asked, “So, is there a missus Uncle Hank in the future?”

  Hank grimaced. He couldn’t lie about this. Hell, he couldn’t lie about anything, as that giddy, delirious night of truth with Justin had proven. But he certainly couldn’t lie about this.

  “Uhm, there might be mister Uncle Hank in the future,” he said, looking her gay in the eye.

  She nodded, not even batting a thickly gooped eyelash. “Have there been a lot of Mister Uncle Hank’s in the past?” she asked. “The judge is going to ask.”

  Hank thought. How long ago was Alan? “My last boyfriend was a year and a half ago,” he said frankly. “I don’t do random hook-ups, so it’s been a long dry spell—”

  “Any water in the future?” she asked, not even quirking her lipsticked mouth. Geez, what did it take to get this woman to smile? Admittedly, Hank wasn’t a laugh riot, but she was the one to crack the joke!

  “Uhm,” he said, wondering if she needed to know about Justin. At that moment there was a knock at the door and Hank looked at his watch. Wait, he wasn’t running late, right? He excused himself and opened the door, and Justin was standing there with a box of doughnuts.

  “He-ey,” he said, grinning as he swished in. “My final was a breeze, and I wasn’t sure if you’d be back yet so I thought I’d check and here you are! My sister got some doughnuts from this place—ohmygah, you’ve got to taste these! They’re… they’re decadence in a pink….”

  Justin petered off as he set the pink doughnut box on Hank’s kitchen table. Hank was staring at him, torn between joy, because he was really happy to see him, and horror, because Mrs. Ramirez was not cracking any smiles.

  “Uhm, Justin?” Hank said, taking a few steps toward him. “This is Mrs. Ramirez, the social worker. She’s running a little late this morning. Mrs. Ramirez, this is Justin, he’s—”

  “Your rain man, isn’t he?”

  Justin raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

  “His first boyfriend after a long dry spell,” Mrs. Ramirez said.

  “Well, I’m still sort of interviewing for the job,” Justin said, grinning at her now that he understood. “Would you like a doughnut? They are to die for!”

  Mrs. Ramirez sent a pointed look at Hank, who had offered her a cup of coffee, which she apparently didn’t drink. “I’d love one,” she said, reaching into the box. She chose a French cruller and took a bite, then closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was glaring at Hank all over again.

  “You should give this boy the job for the doughnuts alone. I’ll tell the judge this is a nice, stable home, and you all have a Merry Christmas.” With that, she looked around the house. “You are going to decorate, aren’t you? You’ve only got three weeks!”

  “Oh yes,” Justin said, smiling at her and handing her a napkin—the icing was thick and flaking off onto her bright gold and black blazer. “Tonight—it’s going to be a thing.” He reached into the pocket of his windbreaker. “I even brought music!” he said, pulling out two CDs that looked freshly burned.

  Hank realized that he was just standing there, stupidly, looking at Justin like his last best hope, and with that, he closed the final distance between them and took the CDs out of his hands.

  “That’s a perfect idea,” he said softly, wishing they were the only two people in the room. Justin turned to him, radiating that absolute good will, and Hank ignored Mrs. Ramirez and the second disappearing doughnut, and kissed Justin on a chilly cheek, his lips actually tingling for something more. “Thank you,” Hank said sincerely. “Do you want to go get Josie ready while I close this up?”

  Justin’s smile was bright and white and brilliant as the sun. “Oh Josie!” he called, before breaking off eye contact with Hank and trotting down the hall. “Are you ready to go to the babysitter’s?”

  “Justin!” Josie squealed, as she rocketed out of her new bedroom and right into Justin’s arms.

  “He’s something else,” Mrs. Ramirez said, and for the first time all morning, Hank detected a little bit of warmth in her voice.

  “You have no idea,” Hank said, finally tearing his eyes off the two of them, chattering away in some secret kid language that Justin spoke fluently. “Now what do I have to sign to make sure she gets to stay here as long as she wants?”

  SIGNING the papers took a while, so Hank cleared it with childcare and let Justin take Josie to Mrs. Watson’s in Hank’s car. By the time Mrs. Ramirez left, Justin was pulling back into the driveway, and Hank walked out of his house with a feeling of relief. Six hours to go shopping, and then back to decorate the tree, and it was all, all in Justin’s company.

  Oh God. He hoped he didn’t screw this up.

  Justin rolled down the window. “Can I drive to the mall?” he asked. “I gotta tell you, Henry, this thing is sweet compared to that piece of crap I drive!”

  Hank had to laugh at Justin’s battered blue Ford Neon parked in front of his house by the curb. “Knock yourself out,” he said, settling down in the passenger’s seat. “But I have to tell you, it’s not nearly as much fun as my Mustang.”

  “Ohmygah, you had a Mustang!”

  The way Justin said it made Hank feel like he was an old superhero. Like ohmygah, you were able to fly?

  “Yeah—it was a recent model, though.” Because everyone knew the old restored ones were the best.

  “So why’d you get rid of it?”

  “I needed something sensible for Josie.”

  Justin grunted as he turned left on Madison, heading for the freeway.

  “We’re not going to Sunrise?” Hank was surprised—Sunrise Mall was the closest and the least crowded of the three major shopping networks in the area.

  “When we have the Galleria?” Justin asked with a huff, and Hank suppressed a groan.

  “Oh God,” he whined, “the crowds and the—”

  “Oh yes, Henry. There’s gonna be drama. Get over it. I love the Galleria at Christmas.”

  “I get lost,” Hank confessed. “I can never find my way around in the parking garage and—”

  “Well, it’s lucky you have me.” They were at a light and Justin cast a flirtatious glance to his right. “I shall be your guide through the fields of frantic holiday shoppers. You will come to depend on me. I’ll be your Sherpa through the human mountain, your faithful Saint Bernard, guiding you through the shopping Alps, your Strider, hauling your poor hobbit ass through the perils of Middle Earth—”

  “My Gollum, prepared to dump my hobbit ass in the volcano,” Hank finished, although it was hard because he was fighting laughter with every word.

  “No-oo!” Justin protested. “I would never dump your ass in a volcano.” He gave one of those giggly smiles, the kind that was all teeth, and that popped his cheeks so close to his eyes that they got all squinchy. “I need to grope it first!”

  Hank’s laughter cut off with a swallow, and heat swept his body. Justin pulled his chin back into what Hank was thinking of as his meerkat pose, even though he kept two hands on the wheel.

  “You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you,” Justin asked, waggling his eyebrows.

  “I… uhm… oh God.” Hank fought the temp
tation to put his face in his hands, and instead stared out the window. There was something about the gray skies of December that made the foothills look featureless as they drove to Roseville. But beyond that, Hank could see the mountains, and they’d always seemed to promise something great, something grand and perfect and magnificent. Hank had never questioned why his mother had moved to Reno—he’d only questioned why he’d chosen to remain in the valley.

  “How long’s it been, Henry?”

  “A year and a half.” Somehow, with his eyes focused on the mountains, that didn’t sound so pathetic.

  “You know, I, uhm, haven’t gotten much past second base, right? A year and a half, a total butt-virgin—it’ll be very Sweet Valley High.”

  Hank tried not to choke on his tongue. “God, you’re making a lot of assumptions,” he said when he’d recovered, and Justin thumped him on the back a couple of times to make sure he was done coughing.

  “No, no,” Justin said, and although his smile was more low key, it was still there. “See, you don’t get it. I mean, I’ve worked at the gym for two years, right? And I saw you from afar, and… man, do you have any idea how hot you are?”

  Could Justin hear him swallow? How about the screeching, rusty gears in Hank’s head, could he hear those too? “Uhm…”

  “I mean, you’ve got that whole ‘Don’t touch me’ thing going, but from afar, I’ve got to tell you, you starred in a lot of pornographic dreams, Henry. And suddenly you show up with this little girl, and anybody could see you were struggling. But I see parents and kids all the time, and I’ve got to tell you, you’re one of the good ones. You keep your patience—and man, when a kid’s got all the baggage Josie’s got, that’s not easy. I thought if she said ‘But Mommy never did tha-at!’ one more time, you were going to crack a tooth, you were grinding your jaw so hard. But you didn’t. And maybe you can’t see it, but she’s happier already. It’s only been a couple of months, but I can see that she’s happier. And I love kids, so you went from my ‘worship from afar’ to my ‘dream guy’, even though you were a dick, and I thought you were straight.”

  “I’m sorry about being a dick,” Henry mumbled, embarrassed down to his toes.

  “But see? Then you got all human on me the other night, and it’s official. I’m there, Henry. I’m… I’m in the United States of Henry right now. I’m ready for the Henry lifestyle. And I know you’ve only gotten your toes wet in Lake Justin right now, but I want you to come in, take a swim, and build your house out here, okay?”

  Hank was torn between laughing and hyperventilating, and he couldn’t seem to get a handle on either. Then Justin, eyes still on the road, put his hand on Hank’s knee, and the world slowed down, spun a little saner, became more a manageable, gravity driving mass and less a broken gyroscope on the edge of the abyss.

  Hank covered that hand with his own. “You don’t have any gloves,” he croaked, because it was cold and Justin’s hand was icy.

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on baring my soul to you. Some of that’s flop sweat.”

  Hank laughed a little and squeezed. “It was a good speech. No flopping. I’m still in the car.”

  “Good, Henry. It’s your car.”

  “You’re a really good human being, and I wasn’t very nice. And now I’m worried about hurting you. I’m sort of a selfish bastard—”

  “Bullshit. Start over.”

  “I am worried about hurting you.”

  “Let’s have us some sex, Henry, and then you can worry.”

  “Are you saying it won’t hurt if we don’t have sex?” Because as awesome as Justin’s hand felt in his own right now, that was really, really tempting. Pain was drama. Drama was overrated.

  “No,” Justin said, his voice gentle. “I’m saying that if we don’t have sex, this relationship will hurt, because it is a relationship. I’ve been dreaming about your kiss for two days, Henry. Don’t let me down because your chicken heart suddenly thinks we’re going too fast. Like I said, I can’t go too fast. I’m already there.”

  Oh God, so am I. Hank thought it, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t let go of Justin’s hand until Justin needed it to steer, either.

  “HMM….” Justin said a half hour later as they tooled through Toys “R” Us. “I can see why you wanted to see it for real. This close it’s sort of….” They both looked at the item Hank had picked out in the catalogue and at all of the accessories that were chained to the display board too.

  “Cheap,” Hank said grimly. “It’s cheap. It’s going to fall a—”

  “Ohmygah! Ohmygah ohmygah ohmygah!” Justin had disappeared to the end of the aisle, and he was… vibrating there, his feet dancing in place and his hands flapping up and down so quickly they blurred. “No, no, no, no, no,… Come here, Henry! You need to see this!” And that last part was superfluous because of course Hank was going to go over there—if nothing else because it looked like he was having a seizure and Hank might be needed to hold his head or something.

  “Oh.” Hank looked at it and could swear he saw a shining light from above beaming down upon it. It was just the display light, but still.

  “That is the best damned dollhouse I have ever seen,” he said, ignoring the fact that he had never really looked at a dollhouse until this point in his life. It was immaterial. The house itself was made of wood, but it was sized to accommodate everything from Barbie dolls to Bratz, although Hank was pretty partial to the smaller, detailed wooden dolls that came with it. He looked up from his gift trance and was disoriented for a moment, because Justin had disappeared again. Before Hank could even look around for him, he came back, pushing the cart through the crowded store with all the aplomb of a Maharajah in the Imperial Bazaar.

  “Here we go,” Justin said, squatting down and pulling out the first dollhouse on the shelf—and then setting it aside.

  “What are you doing?” Hank asked. He loved this gift. He wanted to hold it to his chest and hiss at anybody who came to touch it. Well, maybe he’d let Justin touch it. And Josie of course. Definitely Josie. But seriously, only the three of them. That was the circle of dollhouse trust. Anyone else was not invited.

  “We don’t want the first one,” Justin said logically. “It’s been picked up and looked at and fondled and rattled. We want the second or third one on the shelf—and here you are, my little beauty, come to Uncle Justin!”

  Justin straightened triumphantly, and Hank had never seen a more beautiful heart than the one Justin wore out for anyone to see in his smile.

  “Okay, we’ve got the house. Now the—”

  “And we want this one, and this one, and this one—” Justin was already picking out the accessories; Hank had to act fast or get left in the dust!

  “You want a big brother doll?” That was a little out of Josie’s detail range, wasn’t it?

  “It’s an Uncle Justin doll. And see here? It’s an Uncle Hank doll. He’s even got your scowl.”

  “Well, Uncle Justin has nothing near your smile,” Hank said without thinking, and his reward was that same smile, amped to the brightness scale of a solar flare, softened only by shining blue eyes.

  “You like my smile?” Justin asked wistfully, and Hank nodded, suddenly tongue-tied.

  “Very much,” he said, gnawing on his lower lip out of sheer shyness.

  If Justin hadn’t stood on tiptoe and kissed him right then, in the middle of Toys “R” Us, Hank might have been blind for life. But that was okay. It was a very nice kiss.

  THEY cleaned out Toys “R” Us. Well, not exactly, there were a lot of toys, and the boys side of the store was definitely untouched (although Hank set his eye on a set of three Nerf air-soft pistols to give Justin, because he thought those looked like fun) but generally, after the triumph of the dollhouse, they’d gone a little nuts.

  Everything.

  Hank wanted to buy her everything.

  He had not forgotten his common sense, though, and he did draw the line about ten gifts before Justin would ha
ve, but Hank figured that if he was tired shopping for the gifts, then Josie would be tired opening them on Christmas day.

  “But…” Justin whined as they cleared checkout. “What are we going to look for now?”

  Hank grinned at him, suddenly feeling like a kid playing hooky.

  “Anything we want!” he said, surprised, and Justin giggled.

  And then they went shopping.

  Oh, it was fun. They didn’t actually buy much, but they wandered into almost every store, picking things up and commenting and cracking random, juvenile jokes, revealing hidden things about each other just by talking. Hank learned that Justin had failed algebra twice, until his father just started feeding him answers to get him through, and that a complete helplessness with math was one of the reasons he wanted to teach the very young children instead of the older ones. He learned that Justin had one older sister still at home (which he’d known) and two older brothers who were still in the area (which he had surmised) and that his parents had set up a very nice, very adult agreement about letting him live at home.

  “I’ve got enough saved to move out,” Justin said, “but I like knowing someone will worry about me when I come home. Does that make me immature?”

  “No,” Hank said. “That makes you human.”

  Justin dragged him kicking and screaming into a woman’s bath shop, only to spray Hank with all of the scents in their men’s line, to see which one would smell best.

  “Justin,” Hank whined. “I’ve got Earth on my left wrist, Sky on my right wrist, and Ocean on my chest,” because Justin had missed, “what are you putting on me now?”

  “Oak,” Justin said absently, spraying Hank’s neck and hitting his mark this time. “Now shut up. I’m trying to smell.” He closed his eyes and stood on tip-toes, and inhaled, his nose very close to Hank’s neck. “Mm…” he said dreamily. “That’s your smell.”

  Hank blushed and bumbled backwards, almost running over the woman behind him, who did not look amused. “Do you have a smell?” he asked, flustered, and Justin smiled wickedly.