Four Christmases by Nell Iris-3
1935 Words
I can’t stop staring at him.
“You were very cute as a teenager,” he says, voice low and rumbly in his chest. “All gangly limbs and adorable awkwardness. And you grew up nice. Real nice.” After a final caress to my chin, he lets his arm fall to his side.
“You…you thought I was cute?”
He nods. “And interesting. I always wondered what you were drawing in that sketchbook you carried around everywhere.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I never noticed him paying me any attention—I never notice anyone paying me attention—and never thought about him like that when we were still somewhat on speaking terms. I don’t think I’ve seen him once since I went to college. “I still carry my sketchbook around,” I say, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at myself. My conversation skills are non-existent today.
“Are you an artist?”
“Yes. No!” I shake my head. “Um, maybe?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I am an artist, but I have a day job to survive. At a desk. It’s boring and unfulfilling but it pays my bills. My dream is to illustrate children’s books, though. They are magical and make everyone happy.”
He smiles. “Have you ever done something like that?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I mean, I’ve done some covers for children’s books and I do other book covers, too, for indie authors mostly. But I keep trying.”
“I’d love to see your work some time.”
“You would?”
He nods.
“Okay.” Does he mean that? I hope he does; I so want to see him again. “What about you? What do you do? For a job, I mean.” I tend to babble when I’m nervous.
“I’m a technical support engineer. Computers,” he adds at my blank look.
“Oh. I’m a pen-and-paper kind of guy. Computers don’t like me. Ask the IT department at work.” I wrinkle my nose.
A wide grin spreads on his face and he widens his stance a little. “Do you have a partner, Auden?”
I shake my head.
“Can I take you out to coffee?”
“Now?”
He sighs. “No, not today. I need to keep Mama company for a while longer. But tomorrow, if you don’t have plans?”
I don’t, and I want to say “yes” so badly, but I haven’t spent a single minute in the closet in my life, and I’m not about to start now, no matter how hot he is. “What about your family and…the ‘F’ word?”
He scratches his neck with a wince. “They know about me.”
“They do?”
“Yeah. Took me a long time to gather up the courage to tell them. I came out to them only a couple years ago, but I didn’t want to hide who I am any longer.”
“How…how did it go?”
“Probably worse than you think. Dad yelled and called me names. He spat in my face and told me I disgust him. Told me to never come back again.” A glint of pain flickers in his eyes before he squeezes them shut.
His father spat at him?
“But Mama put her foot down. It was the first time she ever stood up to him, as far as I know. ‘If he goes, I go, too, and I won’t come back,’ she said and shocked the s**t out of all of us, but mostly Dad.”
“Wow.” Mrs. Eldin has always given me the impression of being a quiet little mouse, and it’s difficult to imagine her standing up to that big hulk she calls a husband.
“I know. I didn’t think she had it in her.”
“I’m glad she did it.”
I can’t apprehend what it must be like growing up surrounded by such bigotry. My own family has always accepted me; my swishy manners, my tendency to babble without thinking, the way I can’t stop crying when my sister forces me to watch Disney movies with her, and my complete lack of interest in anything sports related unless it features guys in very tight pants. Or half-naked. Half-naked is good, too.
I was a sensitive, artistic boy growing up, with my head in the clouds, oblivious to what was going on around me if it wasn’t interesting enough to draw. I loved hanging out with Mom in the kitchen, cooped up by the table, drawing and telling her made-up stories to go with my sketches while she was cooking or baking.
No one batted an eye when I was seven and told them I was going to marry Joe Simpson, my older cousin’s best friend, when I grew up. Not even Granny. She hugged me and told me about a cute girl she’d had a crush for before she’d met Grandfather. “Her name was Sarah and she had hair like sunshine.”
Apparently, this wasn’t a story she’d ever shared with my dad, her son, so he’d just stared at her with an open mouth until she snapped at him to stop gawking. In my mind, she cemented her status as the coolest Granny on Earth that day with her easy confession.
So trying to imagine what it must be like to have a family who hates you for who you are is impossible for me.
“It’s not easy for her,” he says. “So I stay away. But on Christmas, she won’t let me. And I feel like I owe her, because of the way she stood up for me.”
“You only see your Mom on Christmas?”
“No. I take her out to lunch a couple times a month, and on occasion, she’ll come to my place. But I’m not subjecting myself to the rest of them more than necessary. Marshall isn’t bad, but he doesn’t have the guts to stand up to Dad and Dale.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “It is what it is.”
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, making me jump. I bite on the index finger of my glove and pull it off with my teeth before digging out the phone. I hold it up to Porter to explain my weird little dance before I answer.
“Hello, sis.” My words are garbled since my mouth is full of glove, so I spit it on the ground. “Sorry about that. Glove in mouth.”
Porter’s eyes crinkle and he grins at me as he picks it up. My gaze follows his every movement as my sister starts ranting in my ear in the whisper-shout-y way that tells me she’s hiding somewhere and doesn’t want to be found.
“Auden! You better get your ass back here right this minute, you hear? You’ve been away long enough and it’s your turn to entertain Granny. I’ve done my part and I had to use Merry as an excuse to get away.”
I shake my head and giggle. “You’re lying to our grandmother about your poor, innocent daughter? I’m so disappointed in you!” I grin at Porter and pull the phone away from my ear to put her on speaker.
“If it hadn’t been for you abandoning us, Auden Whipple, it wouldn’t have been necessary. I thought I could count on my big brother to have my back, but noooo.”
“You have another big brother.”
She snorts. “Dylan is useless. He volunteered to help Mom in the kitchen.”
I do my best to keep from snorting and catch Porter’s eyes glimmering with mirth. “Dylan is helping Mom in the kitchen? God help us all, I better go pick up pizza.”
Porter covers his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking.
“That’s what I’m saying! Get back here now or it will be your fault if we’re served burned turkey for dinner.”
The call cuts off suddenly, and I let loose the giggle that has been wanting to escape since my sister opened her mouth.
Porter’s laughter mingles with mine; he’s even more handsome when he’s happy. Eyes shining, mouth open and showing off straight white teeth, head thrown back revealing a corded neck and a prominent Adam’s apple I want to lick and suck.
“Your family seems awesome,” he says.
I nod. They are, and after hearing Porter’s story, I love them even more. Maybe my family did the right thing hiding what happened from me, knowing how my skin isn’t the thickest in the world? “I’m so happy I have them.”
“You’d better not keep your sister waiting.”
“Screw my sister. The only reason I’m going back is Merry.”
“Who’s Merry?”
“My niece.” I open the photo app on my phone and show him the picture of Merry kissing me from earlier and Porter’s eyes melt at the adorableness.
“She’s beautiful,” Porter says but doesn’t return the phone.
“She owns my heart completely.” I rest my bare hand on my chest and sigh.
Porter gives me back my glove and I put it on.
“Ah, I see,” he says. “You’re one of those uncles.” His eyes glimmer, but he turns his attention to my phone and starts tapping on the screen.
I turn from the creek and slowly start walking back toward the path. “What kind of uncle?”
He hums and follows me, his gaze on whatever he’s doing with my phone. “The kind that will spoil her rotten and obey her every wish.”
“Is there another kind?”
He barks a laugh and stops where our paths will take us in different directions. “Oh, yes. But I’m happy to know your little princess will never have to find out.” With a nod, he holds out my phone. “I added my number and sent myself a text so I can call you.”
I slide my phone into my pocket without looking at it and step closer. Snowflakes cling on his long eyelashes and a small smile plays in the corners of his mouth. The grumpy man I met in the clearing just a short while ago is nowhere to be seen.
“And when will you call me, Porter?”
“Poe,” he says, his gaze on my mouth. “Call me Poe. Only my family calls me Porter.”
I take another step closer. “Okay. Poe.” I swallow and inhale, hoping to catch a whiff of him, but I’m not close enough. “When can I expect your call?”
He licks his lips and his eyes burn under half-lowered lids. “Is tomorrow morning too early? I work out at six AM every day, but I could call you after. Take you out to breakfast.”
His voice is raspy and washes over me like a caress. I want to wrap myself in it, feel it vibrate against my naked skin, and hear it whisper my name.
I gulp. “Breakfast is my favorite meal. As long as I don’t have to drink coffee.”
“You don’t like coffee?”
I scrunch up my face and shake my head. “It’s too bitter.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s a deal breaker. I can’t date a man who doesn’t like coffee.” He smirks at me and waggles his eyebrows.
“Hey!”
“Just kidding. I’ll make sure to take you to a place where there’s tea, all right?”
I nod and hook my gloved index finger in his bare one. “Did you say date?”
He squeezes my finger. “Yes, honey. Date. You’re too fine to waste on a one-off.”
His words chase the chill from my bones. “I’m fine, am I?”
He lets his gaze rover over my body again but looks me in the eyes as he answers. “Very fine.”
I should step away and leave, but I’m afraid I’ll sail to the sky like a helium balloon if I let go of his finger. So I try to think of something to say, to make him stay for a few moments more. “I didn’t know gyms were open on Christmas.”
“Most aren’t, but I found one that is.”
“Here in Pine Valley?”
“No, in Riverwoods. I live there.”
I force myself to not jump with excitement, but I can’t help bouncing on my toes. “I do, too.”
“Yeah?” He grins, his lips thinning out but somehow becoming even more alluring. As I consider if it’ll be too forward to kiss him here and now, my phone buzzes again in my pocket.
I sigh. “I’m a wanted man. I must leave or I’m afraid I’ll lose my position as favorite uncle.”
“We can’t have that,” he mumbles, bends down and nuzzles the cold tip of his nose against my cheek. “Go to Miss Merry. And don’t sleep late.” With a wink, he walks away.
I remain standing in my spot, not staring at his tight ass or his powerful thighs—really, I’m not—as he disappears between the trees. Then I take out my phone, read the text from my sister—Where the heck are you????—reply with a quick OMW, and start walking back. Before I put my phone in my pocket, I make sure my alarm is set for seven and that the phone isn’t on MUTE. I do not want to miss his call in the morning.
But I don’t have to wait that long to hear from him again. As I step into my parents’ house and peel off my coat, a text arrives from him.
I’m glad I ran into you. You brightened my day. See you tomorrow. Poe.
- Writer
