The Problem With Mistletoe

by Kyle Baxter

  “Forrest Gump,” David said.

  “Are you two doing that again?” Tandi walked past him to a side door and pulled a set of keys out of her purse.

  “Yes, and they’re already getting on my nerves.” Bonnie followed and helped her open the door.

  Tandi stepped inside and flipped a light switch. “They were the only people that ever found it amusing.”

  “They’re ganging up on us.” David playfully pushed Alex ahead of him.

  Inside the dusty lobby they found it in passably good shape. Half-expecting a homeless encampment, David reminded himself this wasn’t Chicago. While there were homeless people in Edgedale, it wasn’t a huge issue.

  “Is it too short notice for a change of venue?” David asked. “We don’t want to confuse anyone.”

  Running a finger through the dust on the glass top of the refreshment stand, Alex shook his head. “No, short notice is not all bad. Too far in advance and you can get forgotten about. But we do have to hit hard and fast with email blasts and social media.”

  “The reopening of a local landmark, even for one event, will garner attention.” Tandi inspected the carpet on the stairs leading to the second floor.

  “I’ll tag the historical society and city hall in all our posts.” Bonnie began taking pictures of the interior.

  Alex moved behind the candy display case. He leaned against the counter behind it and crossed his arms, as he’d done a thousand times in high school. Watching him made David wistful. That was a long time ago.

  “I’ve run a few pop-up events in New York. They’re trendy, and people love them,” Alex said.

  Tandi nodded. “I’ll send you the contact information for my publicist. Can you help with that? You know the theater and event planning. I assume you have an ear for these things.”

  Coming around the refreshment stand, Alex squatted and examined the worn carpet. “Can you also send me an FAQ sheet on the charity?”

  David frowned at his mother. “That’s a lot. He’s already doing so much.”

  Standing, Alex ignored him and then followed Bonnie. She walked up the stairs and took a photo of the lobby from above. A phone beeped and they all looked at their devices. David was the winner.

  “I’m on-call,” he explained, glancing at his phone’s screen. “And now I have to run to work. Mom, could you pick up Eric?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t today, dear.”

  “Me either,” Bonnie said. “I have to get to the restaurant. What about Alex?”

  “I can go get the Mini Coop.” Alex raised his hand, volunteering. Tandi snorted at the nickname.

  David ran through the babysitter list on his phone. Who could he find? The holidays made it hard. The college kids all left for home and the local girl was in school herself now. “No, it’s too much.”

  “Give me a break.” Alex scowled. “Same old stubborn Coop. Never wants to ask for help.”

  David glared over his phone. “What does that mean?” This was an old argument of theirs, but if Alex wanted to get into it, he would oblige.

  “On that note, I am out.” Bonnie waved and beat a hasty retreat. “Alex, I’m glad you’re back, but you know? I did not miss you and David arguing.”

  “I’ll have the contractors call you.” Tandi handed Alex the keys. “Give your aunt my love.” She gave both men a kiss on the cheek and followed Bonnie out the door.

  David watched Alex turn around, taking in the lobby. “I am not stubborn.”

  “Your picking up the thread of that conversation proves rather the opposite.”

  “You’re being unfair,” David retorted. “I just asked both my mom and Bonnie for help.”

  Alex moved in front of him and crossed his arms. “You just won’t ask me for help.”

  “You have a lot on your plate.” David stood his ground. “You’re not only taking on this. You’re also helping at Capili’s and telecommuting to your job in New York.”

  “All true, but honestly, I have plenty of time.”

  David stepped back. “Well, that’s clear. I mean, you’re dating.” He flinched. Every time we’re together, the words just fall out.

  “I am?” Alex’s eyes went wide. “So what? Aren’t you?”

  “I just meant—” David sputtered. Turning away, he moved to the candy display case. Why did he start this?

  Alex followed. “What business is it of yours?”

  “None, but the other night when we talked, you said you weren’t seeing anyone.” David drew a frowny face through the grime on the glass top.

  Walking back around the counter, Alex put one hand on the case and the other on his hip. “I had dinner with a friend, butthead. I told you that.”

  “Well, I don’t want to take up any of your time,” David groused. That was true. He felt guilty asking for help with the charity, and now babysitting? It seemed a big ask.

  “Why are you like this?” Alex rubbed his eyes.

  “You’re already doing so much for us.”

  “That’s not it. You’ve always been like this. Look, I have my tablet with me to do any NYC work and the restaurant really doesn’t need me. I have the time.” Alex walked around the counter, and stood in front of him again. “And when have I ever done anything I didn’t want to?”

  David found his determination faltering under the onslaught of Alex’s hazel eyes.

  “For me?” He chuckled. “All the time. Remember when we ran that half-marathon without training?” They were miserable and threw up halfway through.

  “Well, it was after a long night of drinking,” Alex said. “We were so stupid. Okay, you have a point. But honestly, I’m fine picking up Eric. Besides, what alternative do you have?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chains of Love

  Alex followed the map app on his smartphone to the school Eric attended. The building was a bank when he was last here. It was only a few blocks walk, but it lay on the opposite side of the theater from David’s home. Too late, he wished he’d brought the truck.

  He considered a rideshare. Did they have those here?

  From a distance, he saw Eric sitting alone on a bench. On another sat a young girl. Alex frowned. What was that about? The boy was personable enough, if shy around strangers, but he wasn’t scared of people.

  An administrator stood a few feet away, keeping an eye on things. Alex decided he should introduce himself. An unfamiliar man walking up and taking a child might raise questions.

  Eric saw him and waved excitedly. Alex gave a thumbs-up and addressed the administrator. “Eric’s dad was called into the hospital. He sent me to pick him up.”

  “I’m Assistant Principal Bowers.” The man extended his hand. “I just got his text.”

  Alex moved to sit with Eric. “Hey, nugget, how’s it going?”

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “Your dad got called in, so you and I are going to hang out. Is that okay?”

  “You bet.” Eric closed his book and got ready to leave.

  Alex looked over at the young girl still waiting for her own ride. “Let’s wait a few minutes. Who is she?”

  Eric sat down. “Brandi Wu. She’s in my homeroom.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He walked back to the administrator, wanting to make sure the girl’s parents were coming before they left. He saw her eye him, then get up and move to Eric’s bench.

  Alex overheard the girl announce to Eric, “My dads are picking me up.”

  Eric brightened at this. “Do you call them both ‘Dad’?”

  She sat beside him and pulled out her phone. “One is Dad. The other is Daddy.”

  This earned a thoughtful nod. “Cool.”

  The car carrying her parents pulled up at that moment. She stood and pointed at Alex.

  “That’s not your dad. Who is he?” she asked.

  Eric looked at Alex as he walked back to them. “He’s my pop.”

  Hearing that made him frown. He’d have to address that with
the boy. But the two kids were talking, not sitting on separate benches, so that had to be a good sign.

  “Cool.” Brandi nodded and skipped over to her fathers’ car.

  Alex exchanged waves with the two men in the car and opened the door.

  “Thank you,” she chirped, climbing in.

  “You ready, Mini Coop?” he asked Eric.

  “And how!”

  “So, Brandi is nice, huh?”

  “I guess,” Eric said as Alex helped him on with his bright purple backpack.

  “It’s cold. What say you and I get some hot chocolate on the way home?”

  “Yes!” The boy took his hand. It filled him with a warmth he couldn’t account for. He liked kids, but he never wanted to be a parent, but this feeling he had around Eric . . . This parental feeling? It felt right. It felt good.

  They walked south down Main Street back in the direction of the Old Quarter.

  “No Max today?” Eric asked.

  “Not until I move into my dad’s house. Then he can come stay with me . . . while I’m here,” Alex explained.

  “Seems like it’d hurt, getting used to you, and then you leave,” Eric said.

  It was something he considered too. “Maybe, but it’s better than him sitting in the shelter, isn’t it?”

  “I guess.”

  They continued down Main Street toward David’s home, picking up hot cocoa at Insierto Deli on the way. A fresh layer of snow fell overnight, making the sidewalk slick. Eric was happy and all but skipping. Alex held tight to him with his free hand, remembering the other night’s incident.

  Eric looked up at him. “You said Mama is Latina.”

  “Yes, she’s from New Mexico originally.”

  “Did you know my mom was Latina?” Eric asked. “Her family was from Cuba.” Eric’s grip on his hand tightened. Talking about his mother must be difficult.

  “I did,” Alex said carefully. “I knew her in high school.” They were never really friends. “Do you know any Spanish?”

  “No, but my dad wants to enroll me in classes.”

  “Maybe my aunt and uncle can teach you some too.” Alex knew they’d love it.

  “Can we go see Mama?” Eric gave him a puppy-dog look.

  “No.” Alex laughed. That look was not going to work on him. “We are not going to Capili’s’ today.”

  “Why not?” Eric whined.

  “Because Mama will feed you cookies, ruin your dinner, and your dad will kill me.” Alex finished his hot chocolate and dropped it in a trash bin.

  That made the boy snort. “No, he wouldn’t. He likes you.” Eric threw his own cup away and wiped his hands on his pants.

  “I like him.” That was true. No matter what else, he did like Coop. Still liked Coop.

  “Good, he like-likes you.” Eric eyebrow’s waggled, making Alex wonder where he’d picked that up.

  Alex gave him a skeptical eye. “You made that up.”

  “‘You lied,’” Eric said in a deliberate monotone. “‘I . . . exaggerated.’”

  That stopped him in his tracks. “Did you just quote The Wrath of Khan?”

  “Dad said it was one of your favorite movies.”

  “You’re a lot like your father. By that, I mean nothing but trouble.”

  “Why do you call Mama Capili ‘Mama’ and not ‘Aunt?’” the boy asked.

  Alex exhaled. He hadn’t had to answer questions like this in New York City. It made coming home a whole different thing. “Everyone calls her ‘Mama,’ but I do it because after my mother passed away Aunt Claire took care of me, like a second mother, mamá.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I shouldn’t have asked.” Eric clung to him.

  What to do? He didn’t intend to dampen the kid’s enthusiasm. “You can always ask me anything, Eric. Anything.”

  The boy considered this as they crossed the next street. “Do you like-like my dad? You said I could ask anything.”

  Alex choked out a laugh. “I’ve never regretted something so fast in my life. Well done.”

  “Thanks, Pop.” He giggled and, letting go of Alex’s hand, ran ahead.

  “That’s not appropriate,” Alex called out. They needed to talk about that. The thought died as he recognized where they were. They stood in front of the Orpheum.

  “Mini Coop, come here,” he said firmly.

  The boy stomped back. “What?”

  “This is the old theater I worked in.”

  The kid shrugged. “I know. You’re having the Christmas party here.”

  Alex gave him a conspiratorial eyebrow raise. “Wanna sneak inside?” He had the keys but also had a burning desire to see if his secret entrance still worked.

  On the south side of the building behind a garbage can was an old door. With the right amount of jimmying, he pried it open. Originally leading into a small storage room, it was sealed up in the fifties. Alex never knew why but made up stories about it with David, searching for dead bodies they imagined hidden within.

  The “sealed” walls were anything but. Only thin plywood panels separated the room from the theater in some places. Squeezing through one particular panel behind the stairs, Alex held it open for Eric.

  “Careful.”

  Excitement lit Eric’s face. “Is this breaking and entering?”

  Alex pushed the panel back into place. “That was how we used to sneak in before I got a job here. Don’t tell your father we did this.”

  The kid giggled. “Okay, Pop.”

  Calling him that thrilled Alex, but enough was enough. He knelt and held the young boy’s gaze. “Please, stop saying that. I am not—”

  “Did you know I’m named after my dad?” Eric scrutinized him.

  He gave a half-smile. Where was this going? “His name is David Eric Cooper. So, yes,” Alex said. “I assumed—”

  “Dad says, ‘When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.’”

  “That sounds like David, but no more calling me ‘Pop,’” he said as firmly as he could. “It’s sweet, but it’s not appropriate, okay, buddy?”

  Eric folded his arms. “Fine.”

  Alex’s eyes swept the room. “We loved this place. Okay, ‘Let’s make like a tree and get outta here.’”

  The turn of phrase surprised Eric. “What?”

  “Back to the Future.”

  Eric stared at him. “My dad says that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  We Are the Night

  Alex felt like a tourist in his old friend’s house. A comfortable two-story home, it was impeccably furnished. David was a Cooper, after all. Most of the fixtures were replaced or refurbished and all the appliances were new. His friend sank some real money into it.

  There was a space cleared in the living room for a Christmas tree. But there was no tree, only a stand and the empty space. Boxes of decorations surrounded the bare spot.

  Walking around, he examined the photos and mementos of David’s life. A life he was not a part of. One particular frame held an image of his friend with his father and a baby Eric between them. Lifting it off its hook, he ran a finger over the wood edge before returning it to the wall.

  No memorabilia from David’s hockey career hung on the wall. He puzzled over the absence. David said he grew weary of the injuries. A pang of guilt shot through him as he was reminded again of how all their lives went on without him.

  The phone rang, making him jump. Rushing around for a good three rings, he found the receiver for a cordless phone on the desk in the corner of the living room.

  “Took you long enough,” David teased when he picked up.

  “Who has a landline?” he asked in an exasperated tone. That made David chuckle.

  “How is it going?”

  “Easy peasy. The nugget is doing homework.” Alex smiled at the boy, who sat at the counter and bent over a notebook. “Say hi to your old man!”

  “Hi, Dad,” Eric chirped.

  “Hey, nugget!” David said, th
en to Alex, “Thank you for this.”

  “You have an empty space in your living room where a Christmas tree should be.” Alex leaned against the wall facing the offending absence.

  “I need to get on that. We need a tree, but we don’t decorate it until Christmas Eve.”

  Alex heard the regret in the big guy’s voice. The last time they were together was decorating the Cooper Christmas tree.

  “I’m calling a sitter to come over,” David added.

  “What? Why?” Alex stammered.

  “I’m going to be later than I planned. I took a break when I could to call you.”

  “Don’t call a sitter. We’re fine,” he protested.

  “Are you sure?”

  Alex grew irritated. “Coop, would you please stop?”

  “Okay,” David grumbled. “I’ll forward you a copy of his routine. If you like, there’s wine in the cabinet, mostly for Mom, and a six-pack of beer in the refrigerator, but I don’t keep hard liquor in the house.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t imbibe much anymore.” Not after my dad’s problems. He knew alcoholism ran in families. That scared him, so he quit drinking, save for special occasions.

  An overhead PA announcement went off in the background of the phone call.

  “Sorry, they’re paging me. I gotta go. Love you.” David hung up.

  Alex stared at the phone in his hand. What did he say?

  #

  Bustling around the kitchen, trying to figure out where everything was kept, Alex started dinner. Reading David’s detailed list from the email on his phone, he found tonight was taco casserole night. Okay then.

  He opened the large standalone freezer and searched through the stacks of covered, labeled dishes. David made this in advance, planning out the meals. This was not the work of the messy boy he knew and always had clothes strewn across his room.

  Eric sat on a barstool on the opposite side of the counter island, watching him, legs swinging. “You should ask my dad on a date.”

  Alex coughed. This kid. “Oh yeah?” He found the casserole and pulled it out.

  “Yeah, he dates boys and girls. He had a boyfriend last spring.”

  That’s interesting, Alex thought. “What happened?”