The Problem With Mistletoe

by Kyle Baxter

  “I saw that nurse he works with kiss him.” He picked up his coffee and took another sip.

  “Nurse Ratchet?” Papa asked, making Alex spit out his coffee. “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, I’ve seen a movie or two myself, Pilyo.”

  He set his cup down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “She’s something, that’s for sure.”

  “Why did he . . . How did this happen?”

  Alex let out a long breath. “She kissed him under the mistletoe.” It sounded stupid when he said it out loud. It is stupid. YOU’RE stupid.

  Papa waved a hand. “Well, there you go. It was mistletoe.” He stood and made his way to the fireplace. Max perked up from his cushion by the window, watching.

  Alex looked at his uncle. “That’s how I caught my ex cheating, under the mistletoe.”

  Turning around, his back to the fire, Papa nodded deeply. “There it is.”

  “What?”

  Clasping his hands behind him, Papa rocked back and forth. “You’re scared, and you’re holding David responsible for something that happened to you before.”

  He shook his head vigorously. “No, I’m being cautious.”

  “Scared.”

  “No.” Alex sank into his chair and stuck out his lower lip. “I just don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”

  “Scared.”

  “Stop it.” He smacked the arm of the chair.

  “This is David.” Papa glowered. “You’ve loved him since you were kids. You know him.”

  “I knew him a long time ago.” Looking down, he rubbed his hands. “I thought I knew Todd.”

  Papa gave a snort of derision. “Talk to David. Tell him how you feel.”

  Alex shook his head. “He knows how I feel.”

  That made Papa titter. “How? How does he know? What do you say? ‘How can you make an informed decision without all the information?’”

  “He hasn’t said anything either.” Leaning back in his chair, he bit at his lower lip.

  “Why would he if you’re leaving? We didn’t. We didn’t want Mama’s health to influence your decision. We still don’t want that,” he said pointedly and moved back to his chair.

  “But it should influence my decision.” Alex jabbed a finger at his own chest. “It wasn’t fair to keep it from me.”

  The older man exhaled. “Exactly, and shouldn’t how you feel about David influence his decision too? He has a child to think of. You’re not being fair. You need to talk to him.”

  He was right, but it was so hard. “I don’t know. I am scared, Papa. I don’t want to be hurt again.”

  The older man reached over and laid a hand on his forearm. “I know, son. But if you don’t take the risk, you could miss out on being very happy. Have some faith.”

  Bobbing his head, he gave his uncle a slight smile. “I love you.”

  Wagging a parental finger, Papa sat back and sipped his coffee. “I love you too, boy.” A smile crept over his face and he wiggled in his seat. “I like this chair.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Empty Space

  David arrived at After-School All-Stars, next door to the elementary school, to find a man watching Brandi, Eric, and another child throwing snowballs at each other. The daycare program operated all day, so he was able to drop Eric off on his way to work this morning.

  He didn’t doubt he could’ve left the boy with Alex but thought they both needed some space. They all had a rough time of it yesterday.

  Overworked and tired when he called Alex, he jumped the gun. How could I have done that? And after finding him at the cemetery . . .

  He sat down with Eric for a long talk, getting him to promise to tell him if there were more problems at school. Alex sent him a photo of the other parent’s business card. A call to Cara Sarafyan was in order.

  The Fight Club was a big revelation, but one he approved of, if not the secrecy. The results were hard to argue with.

  He tried not to exult in his son giving someone a black eye, but by all accounts, the kid had it coming. Kevin Pierce, Brandi’s father, called last night and confirmed it. He heard what happened from his daughter.

  Ashamed that his son feared to come to him, he vowed to do better. Though kids didn’t come to their parents with everything going on in their lives, he wanted Eric to know he could.

  Gratitude washed over him. Alex stepped up when he was unavailable. And now David feared he’d lost him . . . again.

  He had to straighten things out with Alex. Todd’s betrayal did a number on him; that was clear. What he saw at the tree lighting must have felt like déjà vu. Zooey certainly had her timing down.

  He needed to fix this. An idea formed in his mind and he pulled his phone out and fired off a text. I’ve been too nice to her. It’s time I took matters into my own hands.

  He finished and asked the man, “How long have they been going at it?” David rarely saw Eric play with any of the other kids. This friendship with Brandi pleased him. And it was nice becoming friends with Kevin.

  “Not long. I didn’t have the heart to interrupt them,” he said. “I’m Brandon Wu, Kevin’s husband. We’ve never actually met. You must be David.”

  “Hey, nice to meet you.” The two men shook hands. “We missed you at the tree lighting.”

  “Yeah, I was running late. Where’s your other half?” Brandon continued. “He’s made a big impression on my little girl.”

  “He’s getting the theater ready for the CYA fundraiser.”

  “We’re definitely coming. Thank you for the invitation.” He leaned closer. “I love that Eric calls Alex ‘Pop.’ It’s what I call my dad. His family owns Capili’s, right?”

  “Yes, but—” David stammered.

  Brandon rubbed his hands together. “Kevin and I would love to have you all over, in the New Year.”

  “Let me get back to you.” Everything was so confusing at the moment. It was one revelation after another. Pop? “Things are a bit hectic at the moment,” David said, hoping not to put the man off.

  “We’re sorry Eric was going through that. We had no idea. We talked to Brandi, and we’ll all be keeping an eye open.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “She’s never had any problems.” Brandon nodded in his daughter’s direction. “But I’d like her learning some self-defense too. Where’d you send Eric? That throwing the pennies idea is genius.”

  “We didn’t. Alex taught him, but now I’m thinking of sending Eric to a proper self-defense school.”

  “Let us know where, okay? Gotta go.” Brandon gave him a pat on the back and stepped forward. “Brandi, come on, sweetie. We have to go.” After he herded his boisterous daughter to the car, they turned and waved goodbye.

  Kevin and Brandi helped with the decorating. Of course they were coming to the party. Alex must have invited them. But it was all so strange, assuming he and Alex were together when they weren’t and might never be.

  Waving at him, Eric glanced around. Disappointment colored his features. They rode home in silence, a scowl on the boy’s face. David let him be, wanting to get home before forcing the issue.

  Once the coats were hung up, Eric asked, “Are we going to see Alex? Is he coming over?”

  “I don’t think so, buddy.”

  He crossed his arms. “Why not?”

  David grimaced. “He’s mad at me right now.”

  “How come?”

  “It’s complicated.” He definitely didn’t want to get into Alex and Todd’s history or mention Zooey. Eric already didn’t like her.

  “Call him and apologize.” Eric narrowed his eyes.

  Giving up, he moved to the living room. “I don’t think he wants to talk.”

  Eric pulled on his hand. “Try anyway.”

  Squatting down, he put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Eric, he will call when he wants to. I can’t make him talk to me.”

  “I want to see him.” He stomped his feet in frustration.

  “Why are
you so upset?”

  “You’re not being nice.” Eric pouted. “I want to see him. He’s my friend.”

  “What else?” David asked.

  The anger broke and Eric sobbed. “He’s going to go away and I won’t get to see him again.”

  David opened his arms. “Come here.” Eric fell into his arms and cried. He swept the boy up in his arms and, climbing the stairs two at a time, took him to his bedroom. He laid the boy in his bed.

  “Hey, let’s take a nap.”

  “Not sleepy . . .” he grumped, reaching for the book on his nightstand.

  “Okay, then just rest for a bit before dinner.” David sat on the edge of the bed. “I have a question for you.”

  Eric looked up at him but didn’t say anything.

  David inched closer. “I heard that you call Alex ‘Pop.’”

  Eric’s eyes opened wide. “He told on me?”

  “No,” David assured him. “Brandi’s Dad? Daddy, I think? He asked about him.”

  “Oh.”

  “You know, Alex is leaving and going back to New York City.”

  “He might stay,” he protested. “Mama wants him to run the restaurant.”

  “She does, but he has a job and a life in New York.”

  “But he could stay.” Eric’s head dropped and it tugged at David’s heart.

  He rubbed Eric’s back. There was no way this wasn’t going to hurt him. It was going to hurt David too.

  “I wish he would, honey, but it’s not likely. I need you to understand: Alex is leaving.” As much as he regretted the hurt this was going to cause, he knew part of growing up was losing people you loved. But did it have to happen so often? Eric lost his mother a scant two years ago. I took him away, he corrected himself.

  “But you like-like him, don’t you?” Eric asked.

  David laughed. “That doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

  His son cast an earnest eye. “Shouldn’t it?”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Lucky Strike

  Sitting at the kitchen counter and drinking a glass of Cabernet, his mother watched him make spaghetti for dinner. Eric’s favorite meal. David hoped it might go some distance to mollify him. The boy was depressed and they could both use the comfort food.

  The three of them tried to share a meal at least once a week. With their conflicting schedules, it was often their only time together.

  In a flurry, he related the events of the last several days, some of which she’d heard from Mama. That they’d been friends for a while still amazed him. Parents have lives outside of their children, he reminded himself.

  “You love him,” Tandi said. “I never understood why you and Alex weren’t together.”

  He looked down. “Because I pushed him away.” This was new territory. In the years since Alex left, they never talked about it. He avoided that topic when anyone approached it and everyone close to him got the message.

  She tilted her head. “Why’d you do that?”

  “I was scared. Alex was so confident. He always knew who he was. I didn’t.” He took the pasta off the stove and strained it in the sink.

  “Were you worried about what your father and I would think about your being bisexual? Or queer or whatever.”

  “‘Thank you, Coretta Scott King.’” He gave her a cockeyed grin. He was more than happy of his mother’s acceptance, but her views on gender and sexual identity were still old-school. Lately, he’d been identifying as pansexual, at least to himself. Coming out was an ongoing process. “Fear was part of it. We were the perfect family. Appearances were everything.”

  “They were, and while he may not have been enthused about it, your father only wanted you to be happy.”

  “Y’know, you never cared much for Alex back then.” David walked to the kitchen table and placed four water glasses down. “You tried to persuade me not to hang out with him.”

  “True, but I’m your mother. No one is good enough for my baby boy. But it wasn’t him. It was his father.”

  “Oh yeah, him,” David said, his teeth grinding. Returning to the stove, he stirred the meat sauce. Realizing he was clenching his free hand in a fist, he shook it to loosen up.

  “Everyone knew Emil Capili was a drunk and a brute. Alex was your best friend. Your father and I worried you’d get caught up in their family drama.”

  David regarded her with tight eyes as he walked around the dining table, setting plates on the placemats.

  “Don’t glare at me.” She grimaced. “We were concerned. The boy needed help, and dammit, I wish we could’ve done something.”

  “Me too.”

  Loathing Emil Capili was something he spent a lot of time on. More than once his friend escaped to his or his aunt’s house to get away from his father.

  Tandi finished her wine and rinsed out the glass at the sink before putting it in the dishwasher. “It must have been hell, a young gay man trapped in that house.”

  “He had a tough time. Emil was the kind of man who used the word ‘fag’ regularly” David hated him and was embarrassed he’d been happy to hear the man died. He deserved to have no one grieve for him.

  “We kept an eye out. So did Claire.” Tandi filled a glass with water from the dispenser on the refrigerator.

  “You talked to Mama about it?” Tasting the sauce, he offered some to her but she waved him off.

  “Of course. Claire wanted nothing more than to take Alex in, but she was afraid it would only make things worse. Emil would get sober for a while.” Tandi returned to her perch. “And then it would all fall apart again. When Alex ran away, we were worried but also grateful. He got away. It was a relief. Do you know what happened?”

  This was it: confession time. David steeled himself. “Yes, I know happened. I was the one who drove him away. Alex ran away because of me.”

  David rinsed the pasta in the sink and then strained it into a large bowl. He ladled the meat sauce on top while his mother waited for him to continue.

  After rinsing the saucepan with water, he wiped his hands with a dishtowel and turned back to face her. “That last Christmas, Alex kissed me under the mistletoe. I freaked out. I pushed him off me and told him I didn’t love him that way.”

  Her eyes were saucers.

  “I was just surprised.” Gripping the counter with both hands, he lowered his head. “I didn’t mean it. If I’d known he was going to run away, I’d have handled it differently.”

  She made a steeple of her fingers and rested her chin on it. “Did you try to explain?”

  Running a hand over his head, he turned in a circle. “I never got the chance. After I didn’t see him for a few days, I went back to college, thinking it’d blow over.”

  “But he was gone.”

  David nodded. Taking the bowl of pasta Bolognese, he put it in the oven. He turned it on low to keep it warm while they waited for their guest.

  “I never heard from him, never saw him again, until he came back three weeks ago.” The upheaval in his life astounded him. Only three weeks! “I always loved him, but we were kids. I was scared of losing his friendship if we tried for more.”

  Tandi came around the counter and put an arm on his shoulder. “Have you told anyone this?”

  “How could I? Mom, I drove my best friend away.” He retreated to the corner by the refrigerator and folded his arms. But she followed, pulling him into a hug.

  “You did not drive him away. It’s not your fault.” She held his face in her hands. “You don’t know the whole story.”

  David searched her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  The doorbell rang, making him flinch. “It’s Zooey.”

  “What? Why?” Tandi stared at him in wonder. She knew their recent difficulties. “Let me guess, she pestered an invite out of you and you gave in—like you always do.”

  “That’s not fair . . .”

  “That woman is not a friend. She proved that to you with the stunt at the tree lighting,” She shook her head. “
You have a good heart and you’ve always been forgiving, but this is—” She looked carefully at him. He could see a thought move through her eyes. “This is too much. There’s something else, isn’t there? What’s really going on?”

  “Can we table this for later?” He made a circle gesture with his hand. “Right after dinner. I promise.”

  “Let her cool her heels. Tell me.” Her voice was firm and her gaze severe. The doorbell rang again.

  “Zooey is manipulative, especially where I’m concerned, and she hates Alex.”

  She gave him a hard look. “And you invited her to dinner? What if he comes over?”

  “That’s not very likely,” David said sadly. The doorbell rang again, and he sighed. “Someone is undermining me at work. Doctor Horton told me as much. I’m pretty sure it’s her. I’d never have thought it before, but with her recent behavior . . .”

  “So, you thought a friendly dinner, with wine, might be a chance to find out the truth, the whole truth? Well done, my boy. I approve.”

  “I have my moments.” With a smirk, he trotted to the front door. He nodded a hello as Zooey walked in. “Mom’s in the kitchen, and dinner is almost ready.”

  She stretched her arms out as she made her way to the kitchen. He hung up her jacket and followed. You seem awfully happy with yourself.

  In the kitchen, he caught the terse nod she exchanged with his mother. Suppressing a laugh, he went back to the stove.

  His mother retrieved two glasses from the cabinet and poured herself another glass of Cabernet and one for Zooey. As she handed it to her, Tandi’s smile was Cheshire cat–like. This time David laughed, despite himself.

  Taking out the spaghetti, he set it in the middle of the dining room table.

  “Tough day?” Zooey swirled the wine in her glass.

  “Just long, but thank you for asking,” Tandi said.

  While he poured water into the glasses on the table, David noticed Zooey glancing around. She fidgeted, clearly searching for something, anything, to break the ice. She blew air out through her teeth, making a small whistling sound.

  He set the salad next to the pasta. “I’m going to grab Eric. Be right back.”

  Upstairs he knocked on the boy’s door. “Hey, it’s dinnertime. I made psghetti.” Turning the knob, he let himself in the room.