Red Popcorn Strings and Gumball Rings

by Nell Iris

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  About the Author

  By Nell Iris

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  Red Popcorn Strings and Gumball Rings

  By Nell Iris

  Christmas is coming, and young couple Casey and Ellis are very much in love. Unfortunately, they’re also the definition of dirt poor, and they don’t have the money for nonessentials like decorations. Or a turkey. Or gifts. Between the recent death of Casey’s beloved momma and Ellis’s estrangement from his family, all they have is each other.

  When Ellis finds the saddest-looking Christmas tree south of the Mason-Dixon Line thrown away outside his workplace and brings it home to Casey, things look up. Life is still a struggle, but wealth isn’t always measured in money, and what seems worthless to others is often invaluable to the people who love it.

  To Ofelia, the bestest partner in holiday cheer a mother could have. <3

  Acknowledgments

  MY ETERNAL gratitude to Addison Albright, Amy Tasukada, and Nicky Spencer for your time, your opinions, and your continued support. I’m so happy I found you all!

  A big kiss to my beloved husband, who only gave me the evil eye once even though I blasted Christmas music all through March and April to get into the holiday spirit. It paid off, honey!

  Chapter 1

  December 23rd

  Casey

  CURLED UP on the floor, in front of the crooked Christmas tree, Casey pulled his favorite threadbare blanket tighter around his thin body to chase away the chill. He made sure it covered his feet, too, even though he wore no less than two pairs of socks that his momma had knitted and given to him last Christmas. He refused to think about the fact that these were the last pairs she’d ever give him.

  His feet were always cold. Two blocks of ice, like his boyfriend Ellis always teased. Even now, when the warm December weather—with unusually high temperatures even for the South—hadn’t cooled down their trailer yet.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off the tree and its drooping branches. The short needles had already started to fall off even though it was two more days until Christmas. No one in their right mind would call the tree lush or opulent, or even merry.

  But it was the most beautiful tree he’d ever seen.

  Before today, he’d never understood what it meant to have stars in one’s eyes. But as he sat there admiring the sparse fir, he finally got it.

  Casey unwrapped himself from the blanket and scooted closer to the tree. He reached out and touched the needles on a low branch, ever so carefully so he wouldn’t make any more of them spill down on the floor. As he hummed an old Christmas tune—his meemaw’s favorite—he thought back to when Ellis had dragged the sorry-looking tree through their narrow trailer door yesterday.

  “Where did you get that?” he asked, and tried to keep his eyes from bugging out of his head.

  A Christmas tree! He couldn’t believe it.

  He jumped up and down with his hands clasped to his chest, making the waist-long tresses of his red hair dance around his body.

  Bouncing over to his boyfriend, Casey rubbed his smooth cheek against Ellis’s bristly one, before leaning into the tree, closing his eyes, and inhaling its scent. “Oh, wow.”

  The rich aroma of the deep forest made its way through his entire soul, and his eyes watered. He hadn’t even experienced the smell in years. It wasn’t like he could go up to Christmas trees in public places and inhale their scent.

  “Thank you,” he choked out and looked at Ellis, who beamed as if Casey had made gold appear from thin air.

  Ellis explained how he’d found the tree thrown on the ground outside the garage that morning. His boss had ordered him to dispose of it in the trash, but Ellis had begged to be allowed to bring it home. Boss-Man had stared pointedly at the sad-looking tree but shrugged and agreed.

  They didn’t have any decorations, and it had taken all of Ellis’s ingenuity to even figure out how to make it stand up straight. Casey came up with one harebrained idea after another—like taking a string and tying it to the wall.

  The more practical Ellis shook his head. “No, boo, that won’t work.”

  Instead, he leaned the tree against the wall, smacked a loud kiss on Casey’s cheek, and went outside. Casey stared at him through the window like a nosy old lady as Ellis filled a rusty bucket with gravel from their driveway, and when he got back inside, he stuck the tree into it.

  It was steady enough. If a certain redhead didn’t jump too vigorously around it, shouting Christmas carols at the top of his voice.

  Casey had never had a Christmas tree in his life. His parents had been too poor for such frivolous things, but his meemaw used to have one every year before she died.

  Hers had been very different from Casey’s, decorated with delicate antique ornaments in all colors of the rainbow, and a beautiful angel on top. He’d loved that angel fiercely, with her golden dress, feathery wings, and blonde hair reaching to her waist. When he’d been five, he’d decided to give her a little makeover, and with his meemaw’s favorite bingo marker, he’d dyed her hair bright red. It had looked just like his own.

  Everyone had been shocked when it was time to finish off the decorations with the angel, but no one had said anything about it. They’d just put it up on top where it belonged, and that was that.

  When his meemaw had died, his aunt had claimed all the Christmas decorations as her own, and promptly thrown away the angel. Apparently she’d said it was ruined and belonged in the trash. Casey had been devastated when his momma told him, and had cried for a week straight until his eyes had been red and puffy.

  That redheaded Casey angel would have been perfect on top of their tree.

  But in lieu of proper ornaments, they’d decorated with string after string of popcorn.

  Ellis’s smile had turned into a frown when he’d realized they didn’t have anything to put on the tree, but Casey had refused to let a small detail like that discourage him. He’d skipped the few feet to the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets until he’d found a bag of corn kernels. In their largest pot, he’d put a big dollop of butter, and on a whim, added red food dye before pouring in the kernels.

  The popcorn had turned out surprisingly red, even though a lot of the coloring had stuck to their fingers as they’d strung the popcorn and covered every branch and twig with the strings.

  The effect had been very cheerful in Casey’s opinion, and judging from the hard kiss Ellis had planted on his mouth when they were done, he agreed.

  “I love you, tree,” Casey mumbled and kissed the sprig he held in his hand, ignoring the tiny prick of needles on his sensitive lips. “If only I had a gift for Ellis to put under you.”

  Casey sighed. No matter how much he wanted, he couldn’t afford to buy anything for Ellis. If they were lucky, they would be able to buy some turkey deli meat for their Christmas dinner, but that was about it. They had to make their money last into January, since the library was closed for the holidays, and he worked a lot fewer hours in December.

  One day he would cook Ellis a big old turkey for Christmas. Casey knew Ellis missed his family’s holiday celebrations, even if he never said anything. He’d always eaten Casey’s momma’s Christmas mac and cheese and smiled his widest smile as if it had been a real feast.

  Casey’s heart ached when he thought about it.

  This year they wouldn’t even get the knitted socks.
He wiggled his toes and looked down at his feet, adoring the rainbow-colored socks his momma had made them both. He was going to have to be careful with these; he’d never get another pair.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to let out the burning tears. “I’ll think of something. I always do.” He let go of the tree and jumped to his feet. Time to make dinner for Ellis.

  Chapter 2

  December 23rd

  Ellis

  “ELLIS?”

  Eager to finally leave work after a long day, Ellis was already halfway into his beloved truck, the one Casey had named The Rust Bucket, when the female voice from behind stopped him. He looked over his shoulder and did a double take when he saw the speaker.

  “Edie?”

  What was his sister doing here? They hadn’t spoken for God knows how long. A year and a half, at least?

  “Got a minute?”

  He scratched his sideburn and glanced at his watch. Dinner would be ready soon, and he didn’t wanna keep Casey waiting.

  “Please?”

  He groaned and stepped out of the truck without closing the door, turning toward her. Visible lines bracketed her mouth and spread out in a fine net around her heavy-lidded eyes. She looked so much older, thinner, so now she wasn’t just half his height, she was half his width too.

  “What do you want?” he asked as she stopped a few feet away. The instinct to reach out and tug on her unruly curls—like he’d always done when they were kids—was strong, but he resisted. They weren’t close anymore, and his touch wouldn’t be welcome.

  Not that he really wanted to touch her, but old habits were hard to break.

  She didn’t comment on his lack of courtesy but got right to the point. “Mama isn’t feelin’ well. We’re celebratin’ Christmas at our house this year. I’d like you to come.”

  His breath caught. “What?”

  “I reckon you haven’t had decent turkey in years.”

  That was true. Even when Casey’s momma was alive, they hadn’t eaten turkey with all the trimmings for the holidays. But he couldn’t let himself think about that; there was a more pressing issue to consider.

  “What about Casey?”

  “Hush your mouth.” She looked around, as if she wanted to make sure no one had heard what he’d said, even though they’d been alone outside the garage since she’d first caught his attention. “You know we don’t talk about… that,” she hissed between clenched teeth.

  Ellis stared at her and huffed out an annoyed sound, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “And if you don’t mention that boy to Mama, I’ll even pack some leftovers you can bring home to… eh, home.”

  “Aw, bless your heart.” He didn’t even try to sound polite. He’d had it with her and the rest of the family. This was the reason he never saw them anymore.

  “Ellis!” Her eyes narrowed, making the lines more pronounced. So that was how she’d gotten them. “Be reasonable. You know what we feel about… him.”

  He snorted and shook his head, then turned to the truck, but before he managed to get in, she grabbed the arm of his jacket.

  “Ellis!” she spat out, tightened her grip, and pulled.

  He took a deep breath. And another. The last thing he wanted to do was scream at her.

  “Let go, Edie,” he said in a surprisingly calm tone, considering his insides were spinning like a tornado and all he wanted to do was roar out his anger.

  She must have felt his rage, because she let go and took a step back.

  “Don’t talk to me again unless you’re willin’ to accept Casey.”

  Not bothering to wait for her answer, he jumped into the truck, jammed the key in the ignition, and tore out of there.

  “Dang it!” He slammed his fist into the steering wheel and stomped on the gas, going way too fast. He didn’t let up until he passed the Sheriff, who honked the horn and waved his fist at Ellis through the cruiser window. He must have been busy or else he would never have let Ellis off the hook that easily.

  Ellis forced himself to calm down, taking one deep breath after another until his heart stopped racing, and by the time he parked outside their trailer, he’d regained control. He ran his hand through his rebellious locks as he looked at himself in the rearview mirror to make sure he didn’t look deranged, and streaked the hair with oil.

  “Crap.” Ah well, nothing to do about it now.

  As soon as he was out of The Rust Bucket, he was met by the unmistakable sound of Casey singing at the top of his voice. Every sound, however muted, could be heard through the thin walls of their tiny trailer, but it didn’t matter. They were the last ones on the street, hidden behind the tall fence their paranoid neighbor had built around his double-wide, and Ellis loved the privacy. If he never needed to speak to anyone but Casey ever again, he would be perfectly fine. Especially after today.

  He smiled as the words to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” drifted out. Casey loved everything about Christmas. The look in his eyes when Ellis had come home with that ugly tree yesterday had made his heart skip a beat.

  Only Casey could be so happy about something that hideous.

  But Ellis had never forgotten Casey’s face the first time they’d gone to the annual Christmas tree lighting festival together. He’d squealed and bounced on his heels as the Mayor lit all the hundreds of colored twinkle lights and officially pronounced it holiday season.

  In that moment Ellis had promised himself he would do anything to keep that look on Casey’s face.

  Forever.

  He just hadn’t expected the awful tree to be able to do the job.

  As he opened the door, a wonderful aroma washed over him. Casey was a wizard in the kitchen and could pull together the greatest meals out of nothing. His black-bean chili was to die for, and so spicy it singed Ellis’s tongue. Today, however, the trailer smelled of his chicken soup.

  Ellis’s eyes roved over Casey’s slender frame where he was hunched over the stove. His long hair hung in a thick braid down his back, reaching all the way down to the low-slung waist of the faded jeans he wore. They hung so loose on his hips that Ellis probably could pull them down and bury his face between Casey’s pert asscheeks without popping the button first.

  He must have made some kind of noise, because Casey turned around so fast his braid sliced through the air like a whip.

  “Ellis!” His face split in a smile, making the pointy tip of his cute little nose wrinkle upward. Ellis had to fight the urge to swoon where he stood.

  “You’re just in time. Hop-hop into the shower and everything will be ready when you’re done.”

  Ellis hop-hopped.

  A contented sigh slipped out as hot water beat down on his head. Their trailer might be plain and cramped, but there was nothing wrong with the water pressure. The hot water didn’t last too long, though, so Ellis had to scrub quickly. He paid extra attention to his hands, brushing furiously to get rid of the oil and grime under his fingernails. He didn’t want to put his dirty hands on Casey’s peachy skin.

  Not that Casey would complain. He would smile so brilliantly at Ellis the sun would look dim in comparison, no matter how dirty Ellis’s hands were.

  Just like Casey had done the first time Ellis had realized he was special to him when they were just kids.

  ELLIS’S PARENTS dragged him along to a neighborhood Christmas party, not listening to him when he said he should be allowed to stay home by himself now that he was nine.

  “Yeah, right.” His dad snorted, and that was that.

  He trudged after them, dragging his feet, until his dad turned around and gave him a glare that said “Hurry up, or there’ll be no TV for you, boy.” And though Ellis wasn’t in the mood for a block party, he liked that look even less, so he sped up.

  The party was as boring as expected. He mostly kept to himself until he realized some of the other kids were picking on little Casey. As usual. Casey had followed Ellis around since he’d been old enough to walk, and Ellis didn’t
mind even though he was three years older.

  Casey was cool, and Ellis liked that he wasn’t scared of being different, even though he was just a kid. At six, Casey’s thick hair reached his shoulders because Casey screamed his lungs out every time someone got close to him with a pair of scissors. Or so Casey’s momma said.

  “Casey looks like a girl.”

  “What’s with that pink shirt? Is that butterflies?”

  “Cathey thpeakth like a retard.” The last boy stuck his tongue out so far between his teeth in an attempt to mimic Casey’s lisp, it was almost impossible to understand the insult. But Ellis had heard it a million times before, and without giving it a second thought, he stormed over.

  They scurried away like scared rats before he got to them, because at nine, he already towered over everyone his age. It wasn’t the first time and he was so used to chasing them away, he didn’t get nervous anymore, even when they outnumbered him. He made sure to glare in their direction and then he turned to his little friend.

  Casey was stiff with a stubborn look on his face but was unable to hide his trembling lower lip.

  “You okay?” Ellis asked and Casey nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead, he just stepped closer to Ellis, slipped a tiny hand into his, and leaned into Ellis’s larger body. Casey clutched his other hand against his chest, holding a slightly crumpled envelope in a tight grip.

  Then he tilted his head back and looked at Ellis. He smiled that brilliant smile he almost never gave to anyone else, making Ellis feel like the butterflies on Casey’s shirt had flown into his stomach.

  ELLIS YELPED as the water turned cold. He jumped backward out of the stream and slammed into the wall. “Dang it.”

  It took only a few seconds before the bathroom door opened and Casey popped in his head. “Ellis? You all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hot water run out again?”