Foothills Pride Stories, Volume 2

by Pat Henshaw

  He put a plate in front of me without comment. The best-looking roast beef and new potatoes stared up at me. I started to drool. While he set his plate down and sat, I breathed in the home-cooked meal and then sighed.

  “This looks perfect. Thanks. I’d call it pot roast, but I’m sure it has some fancier name.” I was babbling, trying desperately to be polite and not dig in like the starving man I was.

  He laughed and pointed to my plate with his fork. “Just eat. It is pot roast. My variation on straight Yankee Pot Roast.”

  Even though his eyes twinkled, he said it without a grin. I laughed. In response his smile lit up, and he laughed with me. Now I knew the green light was on. We could become friends with benefits. Or even landlord and tenant with a booty bond. Tonight, if I wasn’t so damned tired and hungry.

  We ate in silence. Now I felt more than ever like we were becoming friends.

  As I sopped up the last of the gravy with a piece of roll, I looked around. Since I worked in the glut of Yule paraphernalia, I again noticed how beautiful but bare of holiday cheer the rooms were.

  “You don’t celebrate Christmas?” I wondered if maybe he was Jewish or atheist or something.

  “Not really.” He grimaced. “You’re probably up to your eyeballs with it now.”

  I nodded. “I could use your help tomorrow night if you’ve got the time.”

  “Sure. With what?” He looked interested, which I took to mean he wasn’t just humoring me.

  “I picked out a tree and need to get it up the stairs.”

  “Huh?” He sat back and looked like he was studying me. “So even though you work in the middle of the holiday crap all day, you want to bring it home with you?”

  I nodded. I wouldn’t exactly call it crap. Besides, who didn’t like the holiday season? Bright lights, often cheerful people, foods and snacks made with tons of sugar. True, a lot of annoying songs, but I could overlook them. One more verse from Trini Lopez, though, and I’d have to shoot someone—probably myself.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, you smell good. I’ll give you that.”

  I laughed softly as my dick perked up, but I was too tired for any follow-through. “I smell like a fucking Christmas tree.” My eyes were drooping.

  “And I smell like a pot roast.” He got up and started clearing the plates and utensils. Ordinarily, I would have helped, but I couldn’t move. It occurred to me I was going to have to go outside and get my ass up the stairs in order to be home. Then I drifted.

  “Look, before you go I have to warn you.” His voice startled me awake. I took a deep breath and smacked my lips as the room came into focus.

  “What? Sorry. I dozed off.” I stood slowly, getting my bearings. “I should get home. I still have to shower. Thanks for the great meal.”

  He moved next to me and put an arm around my waist. “You’re welcome. Let me help you upstairs.”

  I nodded and put my arm over his shoulder.

  As we tackled the stairs, I tilted into him like I was drunk, only I wasn’t. Just so fucking tired. His body felt wonderful next to mine. I could snuggle and sleep on him.

  “Leo wants to get in touch with you. He wants to talk to you. I didn’t tell him where you work or what your name is. But he’ll find you anyway. Stay away from him.” He sounded fierce. When I glanced at him, he looked pissed.

  I nodded. “Sure. He’s yours. I won’t get in your way.”

  “No! No, he’s not mine. He’s… bad, evil. Just save yourself grief. Don’t encourage him.”

  We’d reached the top of the stairs, and I was panting. “Yeah. Whatever. No problem. All yours.” I handed him my key and muttered, “Can you unlock it for me?”

  He opened the door.

  I leaned, resting against his back.

  “Thanks for dinner, handsome,” I slurred.

  Then he turned, and I kissed him, a little sloppy and a lot off center. But I managed to make it lips on lips.

  He stepped back, a shocked look on his face, but lust shone from his eyes.

  If I’d had any energy, I would have pulled him inside and fucked him until neither of us could move. Instead, I stumbled inside, took the coldest, shortest shower in the world, and collapsed into bed alone. I relived the kiss in the morning as I jacked off before work.

  5

  JOHN SEEMED to know Leo pretty well, or at least what Leo would do. The tall, tubby man showed up at Cuttings the next day with a short, younger guy in tow.

  I’d just gotten a couple of curious little boys corralled after they decided to help by adding mistletoe berries to all the potted ivy. Somewhere in one of the nursery’s mistletoe displays was a plant or two missing a lot of berries. I hoped the boys hadn’t eaten any.

  “The song says holly and ivy,” one of them whined while I wrestled the white berries out of their fists.

  “These are mistletoe berries, not holly. Holly berries are red, not white.” The boys were pouting and really angry as I stood in front of them, peeling back their fingers. “These berries are poisonous. Did you eat any of them?”

  With wide eyes, they shook their heads. They looked too scared to be lying. Still I should find their mother and warn her that they might get sick in a little while.

  “That’s why we hang mistletoe way up high. So no one can reach it.” Holiday stories by Fen. This was how legends and fables began.

  “Oh, look! He’s cute and smart,” I heard someone behind me say. As I turned to see who it was, the kids ran off yelling, “Mom! Mom! We need to get some poison berries for Christmas.”

  Leo and a small, slim, very cute man maybe a few years younger than me with blond-white hair and sky-blue eyes blocked my way. I was stunned. Until I’d met my landlord, the only other small men I’d seen were in movies or TV. Now two showed up in Stone Acres. What were the odds?

  Leo was wearing his sharkiest smile, unlike his companion, who seemed delighted to see me.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, looking away from them. John had been fierce in his warning to stay away from Leo.

  Leo and his much shorter companion stood out in the midst of our usual all-women shoppers.

  Leo slipped into my personal space, towering over me.

  “We need to talk, Fen.” His oily tone dripped down on me. He made me feel dirty inside, like he’d put his fingerprints on my soul.

  John had warned that Leo’d find out my name and where I worked. It looked like the guy collected short guys for some reason.

  Leo nodded to the other guy. “This is Ricky.”

  Ricky smiled a grin that made his face radiate with good cheer. Something about him struck me as a little off, like I was seeing him through a funhouse mirror. His smile seemed tinged with too much childish glee for someone who looked like he was my age.

  Even if John hadn’t warned me, I still would have shied away from both of them. Leo’s eyes gave a dead-man-walking stare that slithered over me, looking even more reptilian than it had before.

  “Did Johnny explain to you who I am?” My space got even smaller as Leo shifted from one foot to the other, edging closer.

  I shook my head and tried to figure out how to get away from them. I knew they weren’t customers, so I didn’t have to talk to them or even pretend to be particularly civil. I turned away.

  “I’m the guy who’ll make you rich and fulfill all your dreams.” Leo’s low voice coiled around me, making me shiver. Coming from his mouth, the words sounded obscene and sordid, not like any life goals I’d ever had.

  “He’s the Fairy Godfather.” Ricky’s laughter rivaled that of a baby’s glee. His fingers picked at his fisherman knit sweater. As Leo cleared his throat, Ricky stopped and wrapped his arms around himself. “I need Johnny,” he whined.

  When Leo turned and glared at him, I fled into the employees-only potting shed. Knowing Leo was the type to follow, I slipped out the back and looped around to the checkout counter where I told Beth to be on the lookout for them. I was heading ou
tside to work in the Christmas-tree prep area. Beth promised not to tell them where I was.

  Quickly as I could, I put on my coat, hat, and gloves, all the while watching for Leo and Ricky in the security mirror. I spent the rest of the morning wrapping cut trees in netting and hiding behind them. By afternoon both of the men were long gone. I wasn’t sure why I was scared of overweight Leo and spooked by Ricky, but I was.

  AFTER WORK, John was waiting for me when I pulled up in my truck. Fortunately, the snow had melted some during the day, so the sidewalks were clear enough that we could use the dolly to bring the tree into my place. I was so excited about putting up my own tree that I’d forgotten all about my morning visitors.

  “What the fuck is this?” John was staring at the tree like he’d never seen one before.

  “Christmas tree. Help me slide it onto the dolly.” I handed him a pair of gloves that I’d snagged from the supply cabinet in the employee area of the nursery.

  “It’s in a pot.” He was staring at it as if he didn’t know trees grew in dirt. Maybe this was one of those supermarket moments for him, like when a child learns that a chicken doesn’t come cut up and wrapped in plastic film in real life. I doubted it, though. Maybe he just didn’t know people decorated live trees and put them in their living rooms.

  “Yeah. This is the most responsible kind of Christmas tree.” I grunted as we pushed and pulled it to the edge of the truck bed and onto the back lift.

  “So you can return it after the holidays.” He steadied the pot as I lowered the lift.

  “No. So I can plant it after the holidays.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where?” He sounded suspicious, like I’d plant it in his yard. Not a chance. It was my tree, not his.

  “I don’t know. Probably at my mom’s. I’ll figure it out in the spring.” I shrugged even though my shoulders hurt since I was pulling while he was supposed to be pushing the dolly up the stairs. I looked behind me at how many more steps we had to go to get to the top. “You want to stop a minute?”

  We rested, then soldiered on, finally getting the tree into the tower room.

  “You want to help me decorate?” I asked as we gulped down water. We were sitting on the back of the truck, letting the cool air wash over us. He hesitated a long time before he nodded and looked over at me.

  As we strung the twinkle lights I’d gotten, along with ornaments from the hardware store, I celebrated that this was the first tree I’d bought on my own. I plugged in the lights and stood back to enjoy the effect.

  “C’mon.” I grabbed his hand and dragged him out into the front yard with me. I sighed as I looked up at the lights sparkling through the windows in the round tower. “Perfect. Just what I planned. What do you think?”

  He was standing next to me, our hands still clasped. His face shone in the light of the rising moon.

  I started to remove my hand from his, but he tightened his in a vise grip.

  “It’s beautiful.” The words were so soft I almost missed them.

  His eyes appeared a little watery. Gently I slipped my hand from his and put my arm around his shoulders. He snuggled closer and put his arm around my waist.

  “Thanks for sharing this with me.” His breath misted in the cold, and we both shivered.

  “Okay. Wassail, popcorn, and ornaments. We’re not done yet.” I slapped him on the butt and scurried to the porch as he ran after me.

  It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

  6

  THE NEXT day at work, John walked into my area of the nursery with the blond man I’d seen through the window at the Silver Star restaurant. I’d been filling in holes where we’d sold wreaths and swags the day before. I was definitely going to have to make more this afternoon. For some reason, they were both particularly popular this year.

  “Fen, this is David. He’s the manager of the Star.” John acted like we hadn’t stayed up late kissing and fooling around the night before. He was all business, but I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him.

  Instead, I reached up and shook hands with David. “What can I do for you?”

  David had been staring around the gift-shop area. I’d decorated three of the walls with different kinds of swags and left the fourth wall as a display of the various wreaths we had premade. When Beth found out I wasn’t afraid of pine needles and could wrestle boughs into arcs and circles, I’d been appointed Cuttings’ official wreath and swag guy. With everything else I was doing—particularly keeping up with the kids some days—stocking this area was about to kill me.

  “You created all these?” David waved a hand at the traditional Christmas wall displays constructed from fir branches, winter nuts, and berries.

  “Yeah, most of them. A few of them aren’t all-natural materials, though.” I watched him as he walked around. He occasionally touched a bow or a pinecone and nodded. Why did he care who made them?

  Then he turned to John. “You were right. He’s got an eye for this.”

  I still had no clue what they were doing here, but I knew Cuttings was filling up with shoppers, and I’d be needed somewhere else soon, probably up at the checkout counter.

  “I’d like you to decorate the Star,” David said.

  “What? Why? Isn’t the place already decorated?” I was confused. Was he asking me to add to what they already had? Oh fuck no!

  David’s face had scrunched into a frown. “Well, I’m not sure you’d call what happened to the place decorating.”

  “I’m not a decorator or a designer.” Anybody could put together a wreath or a swag, couldn’t they?

  David studied the walls again.

  “Doesn’t matter. You do good work. If you’re interested.” He looked at John. “Whatever you do will be better than what’s on the walls now.”

  John, who I’d thought had spaced out during our talk, snickered. What was so funny?

  I was a little interested because it’d help promote Beth’s nursery, so I agreed to go over to the restaurant later in the afternoon if she could spare me. When I asked her, she was thrilled that Cuttings might be getting the Star’s business and said to go now. She and Kate could handle everything until I got back. David thanked her for sparing me, and we were on our way.

  I drove my truck, and John rode with me. As we followed David into town, John sat quietly at first. “I hope you don’t mind that I told him about what we did last night,” he muttered.

  “You told him we stayed up almost all night and did everything but have full-on sex?” I was teasing, and he knew it.

  He hit me on the arm. “Yeah, he was happy to know I was getting out and getting some.”

  I laughed. Okay, so he wasn’t going to blush.

  “No, I don’t mind you told him about putting up the tree and decorating. I just don’t get it.” As he directed me into the alley to park in back of the restaurant next to David’s Mazda, I shook my head. “I looked through the window of the Star the other day. The place doesn’t need more holiday stuff.”

  “Yeah. I think that’s the point. I think David was disappointed with what he got. The decorator to the stars tried to get away with ‘one design fits all’ for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I don’t know much about stuff like this, but as far as I’m concerned, the dining room looks like a warehouse, not a classy restaurant.” He shook his head. “But I could be wrong.”

  We met up with David in the kitchen where a big guy in jeans and a Thug Chef T-shirt gave me a thorough once-over.

  “So who’s this, John?” The Thug smirked at my landlord and friend.

  John introduced me to the famous chef, who eyed us, grinning like he knew something we didn’t.

  “Oh, stop, Adam. John’s allowed a boyfriend without you harassing them.” David was frowning and looked pissed at the chef.

  I stopped and stared at John. We were boyfriends?

  Now he blushed. Huh? Cool. Guess in his mind maybe we were. Wow. Something to think about later when David and Thug Chef weren’t watching
our every move.

  “Hey! I didn’t say anything,” the chef complained. He turned to me. “I’m Adam, by the way. Don’t let either of these two give you any shit.”

  As David walked past him, he swatted the chef on the back of the head. “Shut up and go cook,” he said quietly.

  John looked at me and rolled his eyes. Ooookay. Whatever. At least now I could tell my mom that I’d met the world-famous chef. She’d be really impressed.

  The dining area wasn’t quite as bad as David had made it sound. Actually, it was kinda cool, all professional looking in a frontier jail kind of way, not kitschy at all. The windows had iron bars, and the walls held photos of men in old-time clothes. The holiday decorations were mostly standard stuff, jumbled together like someone went on a fast buying spree in a drugstore’s or a hardware store’s holiday section and then dumped off all the purchases.

  “Think you can do something for us?” David asked.

  I looked around. Well, I wasn’t a decorator, but if nothing else, I could make the wreaths and swags of natural materials and not plastic. Then at least the place would smell nice. Maybe I could also sell him on some everyday plants to keep the room fresher during the rest of the year.

  I could feel his eyes watching me as I walked around the room looking for places with sunlight. Why hadn’t he or Adam called Beth before this place opened?

  “Can I ask you a question?” I didn’t want to come off as belligerent, but I really wanted to know. At David’s nod, I asked, “Why’d you go out of town for all of this? Why didn’t you go local?”

  His eyes left mine, and he looked down.

  “I didn’t know Cuttings was here,” he admitted.

  He hadn’t even bothered finding out. But I let the argument drop. Water under the bridge, right?

  “What do you want the room to look like?” I asked.

  We chatted, going over the possibilities. John went back to the kitchen and the Thug Chef as I got out my pocket notebook, took measurements, and wrote my observations. David and I settled at one of the tables.