The Problem With Mistletoe

by Kyle Baxter

Eric hesitated. “It was me. He wasn’t ready for a family.”

  “What makes you say that?” Alex put their dinner in the microwave and set it to defrost.

  The boy’s smile faded. “I heard him and my dad talking.”

  Alex put a finger under his chin and lifted his face up. “He was stupid. I mean, anyone who doesn’t like you is not worth your dad’s time.”

  Shrugging, Eric said, “I just don’t want him to be lonely because of me.”

  “That guy was stupid.” Alex leaned against the counter and, cocking his head to one side, stared at Eric for a long moment.

  What was he doing? Alex liked this kid—a lot. But did he want to risk getting close to him? It would hurt them both when he left. That was a given. Too late, I think.

  Eric pushed an errant lock of brown hair off his forehead. So much like him and so different.

  That was why the charity was so important to Tandi and David. They wanted to help kids and families. Could he do any less? Especially when there was a kid who needed help right in front of him. A kid that, like his father, didn’t want to ask for help.

  “I’ve got a question for you.” Alex tapped his chin.

  Staring at him intently, Eric waited.

  “Do we watch Jurassic Park tonight?” he asked.

  The boy clapped. “Can we please?”

  “But first . . .”

  Eric moaned. “I knew there was a catch.”

  “Those boys at school who give you trouble?” Alex leaned forward, elbows on the island. “Why haven’t you told your dad?”

  The boy looked down. “I don’t want him to worry.”

  Typical Cooper. “Nugget, he’s your dad. That’s his job. What do these bullies do?”

  Eric grunted. “They tease me. They say I’m stuck up because I’m a Cooper.”

  Alex opened cabinets, looking for the plates. “That’s not a surprise. Edgedale came into its current prominence largely due to the work of your family.”

  “Huh?” The boy gaped at him.

  “Your grandfather and grandmother did a lot of good things. So, carrying your last name can be both a blessing and a curse.” He set the plates on the counter and came around the island, taking position on a barstool beside him. “Your Aunt Rachel can tell you all about that.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “What else?” He was certain there was more to the bullying than that.

  Eric’s face dropped. “They call me ‘gay’ and ‘fag.’”

  “Well, I knew that was coming. I mean, ‘gay’ and ‘fag’ are the go-to insults favored by bullies everywhere. They called me those names too,” Alex admitted. “It doesn’t mean you are gay. They just say it to be hurtful. Your dad was my only friend besides Bonnie, and they made fun of them for being friends with me.”

  Eric pondered this in silence.

  “Do they hurt you?” Alex asked.

  Eric shrugged. There it was.

  “They shove me sometimes as they walk by me. Sometimes he hits me in the stomach.” As he peered up at Alex from under heavy lids, his face flashed with fear. “Please don’t tell my dad.”

  He nodded. David was fiercely protective. He could imagine him charging into the school in a fury. Alex wanted to do it himself, but that might only make matters worse for Eric. Childhood sucked sometimes. He wondered who this “he” was.

  “Come with me.” He led the boy into the living room. Together they moved the coffee table, creating a large open space between the couch and the fireplace.

  “What are we doing?” Eric asked.

  “I learned how to take care of myself when I was a kid. Now, I’m going to teach you.” Alex got into a fighting stance, his fists raised.

  Eric cocked his head in interest.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  All Through the Night

  It was a full evening, all around. They spent an hour following a YouTube video series that taught young people self-defense. Starting with stances and making a fist, they moved onto basic moves. Eric took to it eagerly. After dinner they popped popcorn and watched a movie. By then, it was Eric’s bedtime. He tucked him in, reading to him from the book Eric and his father were working their way through.

  Alex retreated to the living room to catch up on emails from Five Points. The Blake-Krug wedding was giving Enrico fits. The bride kept making last-minute changes to the decor and menu, and they were running out of time. Who had a wedding at Christmas anyway? He was getting all the emails and there were ninety of them since yesterday.

  It was his own fault. He’d developed a reputation for dealing with brides. Discovering if he minced it up and played gay best friend, he got further, and sometimes, the cattier, the better. But it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  A creak on the stairs grabbed his attention. Eric stood there in his pajamas, carrying his blue-footed booby bird.

  “Hey, buddy, what’s up?”

  “Can’t sleep.” Eric climbed up beside him, peeking at his tablet while he typed. “Why is there a U in girl?”

  “Sometimes there just is.” Alex huffed. Laying it aside, he turned his full attention to the boy. “What’s going on?”

  Eric shrugged.

  “Worrying?” Alex asked.

  The boy found an errant thread on his pajamas and toyed with it. “I guess.”

  “I do that.”

  “How do you get to sleep?”

  Alex considered that for a moment. This wasn’t something he talked about with anyone, much less a child. It was an unusual place to be in. “I make up stories in my head so my mind is occupied with them rather than what’s bothering me. Eventually I just fade off.”

  Eric clutched his booby bird tighter. “But you’re a writer.”

  Putting an arm around the boy, he drew him close. “Anyone can make up stories. Give it a try, see if it helps.” Giving the boy a kiss on the top of his head, he went back to his tablet.

  Eric got off the couch and walked toward the stairs, where he paused. “You’re not going to ask me what’s bothering me?”

  “I told you you can tell me anything, right?” He wanted to be nonchalant, hoping to impress on the boy he could tell him anything without it becoming a thing.

  “You did.”

  Alex shrugged. “You’re smart. I figure you’ll tell me when you want to.”

  Eric stared at him for a long moment. “Thank you.”

  He set the tablet aside again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Climbing back on the couch, Eric scooted next to Alex. “I’m being silly.”

  “I doubt that. I’m the silly one.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re smart. My dad says so.”

  “You worry about him.” He saw the concern on his face.

  “Sometimes.” Eric drew circles in the fabric on the couch with his finger. “He’s lonely and sad and I—”

  “You worry that it’s your fault? I told you—” he started.

  “I know, but it still feels that way.” The boy was trembling, and Alex pulled him close.

  After a minute, Alex glanced around and asked in a hushed tone, “Can I tell you a secret? I worry about him too.”

  “You do,” the boy agreed.

  He leaned close. “How about you let me worry about him for you?”

  “I don’t want you to not sleep.” Eric bit his lip.

  Alex tapped the side of his head. “Stories, remember?”

  Standing up on his knees, he hugged Alex and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Walking to the stairs, he waved. “Goodnight.”

  Alex sat for a long time, staring into the fire.

  #

  The aroma of breakfast cooking woke him. He caught the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. Standing up from the couch, he stretched his arms wide and ran a hand over his face and through his hair. With a groan, he tromped off to the kitchen and its delicious smells.

  David smiled broadly when he entered, making him feel giddy. With a quick wink, Coop grabbed a large red
and blue mug from the cupboard. He noticed Eric sitting in his favorite spot and eating his own meal.

  “Hey, good morning, sleepyhead,” David said. “Two sugars?”

  Alex mumbled and David added the sweetener as he poured the coffee, then handed him the mug.

  Cocking an eyebrow, Eric finally grumbled, “Morning.” The munchkin must not be a morning person either.

  Lifting up the cup and mouthing a thank you, Alex blew on the coffee and took a sip. He fought the urge to give David a quick kiss on the cheek. “How long was I out?”

  David gave him a quizzical look. “It’s only seven. Is this early for you?”

  “No, I’m normally up by seven-thirty. My internal alarm clock won’t let me sleep late, but wow, I crashed hard.” Alex rubbed his head.

  “Clearly, you needed it.” David took a swig of his java.

  “I’ve been staying in the extra room above the restaurant. It’s okay, but the pullout sofa is not comfortable.”

  David made Alex a breakfast plate and asked, “You’re not staying with your aunt and uncle?”

  “I didn’t want to put them out.” Alex leaned against the counter.

  The side of David’s mouth twitched up. “Are you trying to sound like me?”

  “Nice one. You’ve developed some self-awareness,” he said, and with a smirk David held his thumb and index fingers a smidgeon apart. “But let me assure you Aunt Claire is not happy with me staying there and not in her house. She read me the riot act.”

  “I’ll bet, and I know for a fact you wouldn’t be putting them out.” He handed Alex a full plate and utensils.

  Realizing how hungry he was, Alex scarfed down a forkful of eggs. “Anyway, I’m opening up my dad’s place. So I’ll be staying there.”

  “It’s your place.” David gestured with a slice of toast as he noshed on it.

  “That’s good bacon.” Alex picked a piece off Eric’s plate. “But what’s with that T-shirt?” He examined David’s chest.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Grabbing it with his fingers, David looked down.

  Eric scrunched up his nose. “It’s old, Dad.”

  Leaning forward, Alex stared intently at the offending garment. “And dingy. There are stains on it.” He found himself staring at David’s nipples straining against the fabric. Get a grip.

  “It’s clean.” David scowled. “You don’t throw away an undershirt for no reason.”

  Alex walked around the island and sat beside Eric. “No, you make it into a cleaning rag.”

  “Fine. I know when I’m out-voted. I’ll cycle it out and get a new pack.”

  “A new pack of generic shirts from the SuperStore?” Alex nudged Eric.

  “Enough, you made your point.” David huffed. “Hey, why didn’t you sleep in the guest room?”

  Putting a hand to his chest, Alex gasped. “Do you mean the Laura Ashley room? I was afraid to touch anything.”

  “Very funny, Smart Alec,” David said. “Regardless, there’s a shower in there and fresh towels.”

  “Thank you. I do need to get moving.” Alex buttered his toast and took a big bite. “I want to check on Mama, see how she’s doing, and then head to the Orpheum. The contractor is coming by for a walk-through.”

  “We’ve got a plan, then. You go shower and I’ll find you a change of clothes.” David touched his shoulder as he passed, and Alex thrilled at the contact.

  Raising one arm, Alex grunted and stretched his back as much as he could. David stepped behind him.

  “Put your hands on your shoulders. let me crack your back.”

  “Oh . . . okay,” Alex stammered and crossed his arms in front of him.

  David’s arms circled him. “Take a deep breath.” His voice was husky as he pulled him back and up.

  There was a satisfying pop and the big guy set him down, but he held on for a second. Alex was keenly aware of everywhere their bodies touched. Eric watched them, wide-eyed.

  Releasing him, David stepped away. “Uh . . . How’s that?”

  “That’s good, thank you.” Alex moved his shoulders in circles.

  “Get in the shower and I’ll be right back.” David darted out, stopping in the door to point at his son. “You get ready for school.”

  Alex’s eyes followed his friend’s exit. Turning, he found Eric’s eyes intently scrutinizing him. Alex nabbed another piece of bacon from the boy’s plate.

  “You have your own, you know.”

  Alex munched happily. “Snagging yours makes it extra delicious. You eat good, nugget.”

  Eric gave an amused snort. “Most days we have cereal. This is for you. I told you he like-likes you.”

  Ignoring that, Alex took a sniff of himself. “Ugh. I do need a shower. I feel grimy.”

  “When are we going to practice again?” Jumping down, Eric got into a fighting stance.

  Alex mirrored him. “Next time we spend some time together. I didn’t see a TV in your room to watch the videos.”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “Dad doesn’t want me to have one.”

  “Can you watch them on your tablet?”

  “Can’t. He blocked the app.” Eric climbed back on his bar stool.

  “Fair enough,” Alex said. “Practice the routines we learned on your own and we’ll go over them next time, okay?”

  The boy gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Something About Him

  David walked upstairs to his room and sat on the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath. Alex always got to him, with his toothy smile and tea-cup ears.

  Stop that. He reminded himself this was only a crush, a momentary obsession fueled by the deep affection he always held for his friend.

  But it was a long time since he felt this way about someone—anyone. It made him dizzy, distracted, and giddy. And even if they had little chance of a future together, David wanted to enjoy this while it lasted. He missed this feeling.

  When he’d made it home last night, it was late. Lights were on but subdued. Not wanting to wake anyone, he moved as quietly as he could while entering the house. He found Alex on the couch, asleep, his back to the fireplace. From the hall closet he grabbed a heavy quilt and covered him with it. He sat in the chair opposite him and watched his friend sleep for longer than he cared to admit.

  Thankfully, work had been busy, and he didn’t have time to obsess over his blunder. Love you. He still couldn’t believe he said that. Purely reflex, of course, but the words were out there.

  Shaking off the thought, he went to his closet and pulled off his T-shirt. Holding it up, he examined it. Dingy. Alex was right. He balled it up and tossed it into the small plastic trash bin in the corner.

  He reminded himself he needed a babysitter for Eric tomorrow night. Zooey asked him to accompany her to a young professionals’ mixer. He didn’t have many friends in town, and his mother and Bonnie were begging him to get out more, so he said yes.

  He snapped his fingers. Maybe Bonnie is available. He did not want to ask Alex. Last night was enough, and asking him to babysit while he went out with someone else felt off, even if it wasn’t a date.

  Mentally he crossed his fingers and hoped it wouldn’t be a disaster. Zooey was a good work friend, but she was too eager to be more. He wasn’t sure of a lot these days, but he did not want more with Zooey.

  After pulling a shirt over his head, he looked through his closet and retrieved the few clothes his last boyfriend left and never returned for. Probably should not share that with Alex either. The jeans would fit. He looked through his own clothes until he found a sweater. Too tight for him, but it would suit Pinoy.

  Back downstairs, he peeked into the kitchen. Eric was finishing his French toast. He gave the boy a wink and moved to the guest room. There was no answer when he knocked, so he let himself in.

  Alex wasn’t in sight and the shower wasn’t running, so David figured he’d be right out. A quick glance around made him chuckle. It really was the
Laura Ashley room. Maybe the floral prints were too much. His old hockey teammates would never approve.

  Alex popped out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel. Of course he’s wearing a towel. He just took a shower. David stared at his friend’s half-naked body. He’s been working out—a lot.

  “Sorry.” David shied away. “Give me your dirties. I’ll throw them in the washing machine with the rest.”

  Alex put his hands on his hips. “You don’t have to wash my clothes.”

  “I’m doing a load of laundry, and you don’t have a washing machine at your house or upstairs at the restaurant.” David set the clothes he was carrying on the bed.

  “That’s a fair point.” Alex fidgeted, grabbing the towel on his waist to hold it secure.

  David held up a green V-neck sweater. “Hope it’s okay, but I picked a color besides black.”

  Alex cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll try to adjust.”

  His eyes swept from the sweater to his friend’s naked chest. The hair on Alex’s pecs was still damp. It looked soft, not coarse and curly like his own. Then there was the tantalizing treasure trail running down his torso and into the towel around his waist.

  He has abs. How did that happen? He never had abs in high school. And not for the first time he envied his friend’s gorgeous olive complexion. Such a contrast to his own pale coloring.

  “Green always was your color.” David’s eyes went down and back up Alex’s body. Their eyes locked.

  “You changed shirts,” Alex blurted. One hand still holding his towel, he pointed at David’s chest.

  Feeling heat rise in his cheeks, he ducked his head. “Well, you may have had a point.” Looking up, he caught him staring at the open collar of this shirt.

  “That’s a Henley,” Alex croaked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You look good in Henley’s.” Alex held his gaze for a long moment, then covered his crotch with both hands.

  “Uh, thanks.” David backed out of the room, his head swimming. Oh, boy.

  As soon as he was dressed, Alex ran out the door, hightailing it to the Orpheum and saying again he needed to get ready for the contractors.

  After taking Eric to school and running errands, he had the morning to himself. Grateful for the break, he wanted time without Alex’s hazel eyes on him. But the memory of his friend’s still-wet bare torso kept intruding.