Page 29 of Highway To Destiny

“You do know the definition of ‘fine,’ don’t you?” he asked with a raised brow. “It stands for fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional.” I could see his point.

I looked down the hall towards where Mom was. “I don’t want to stress over it, and I want a good night’s sleep. The only thing I ask is that you keep your crazy humor handy if shit goes south.”

He nodded and patted my chest. “Okay, sleep good, and I’ll see you in the morning,” he replied as he turned back to his room.

I finished getting ready for bed and hit the light switch. I lay there looking at the ceiling. “Everything will be just fine,” I told myself out loud before I closed my eyes and drifted off.

On Christmas morning, I awoke to the sound of Bunker’s loud bark somewhere in the house. I looked over at the nightstand and saw it was almost eight o’clock. I never slept that late at school, but having a holiday break let me catch up on much-deserved shuteye.

I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. After I’d taken care of business, I changed into lounge pants and a sweatshirt and walked to the living room. The distinct aroma of coffee wafted through the house, accompanied by the faint smell and sizzle of bacon. My stomach rumbled.

I rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw my mom, fully dressed, frying bacon. My brother leaned against the counter, chatting with her, a cup of coffee in hand. Bunker heard me and immediately waggled his hind end and bolted toward me with excitement.

“Heya, potato,” I said excitedly and bent down to scratch his ears. My brother laughed.

“You always call him that,” he replied.

Bunker, by now, had decided to flop over on his back for belly rubs. “It’s because you decided to get a dog that looks like one,” I countered, continuing to bestow affection on the canine. Kyle just rolled his eyes.

Mom greeted me as she flipped bacon in the pan. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

I walked up and kissed her on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mom.” I looked over at Kyle, and we both smiled and lifted our chins in greeting. He held out a mug filled with black nectar. “Thanks, bro,” I said, clinking it against his.

From the living room, we could hear Spencer. “Good morning and Merry Christmas,” he exclaimed as he joined us. He was wearing his typical grey sweats and had adorned himself in a Santa hat for the day.

Mom glanced over. “Now that’s adorable,” she said, taking in the sight of my friend. “Merry Christmas, Spencer.” My brother took down another mug, filled it, and handed it to Spencer with a cheerful greeting.

Bunker seemed overjoyed at seeing a new face in the house. He barked again. He barked at anything new. Spencer put his mug down and went to the floor to greet my brother’s dog. Bunker was beside himself, getting all the attention. It was funny to witness a spirited golden retriever play with a Corgi.

Mom placed the cooked bacon on a tray and slid it into the oven to keep warm. “Breakfast will be in about ten minutes or so,” she said as she beat the eggs for the French toast. “Boys, would you mind setting the table?”

Kyle grabbed plates as I grabbed silverware. Spencer followed us to the dining room with Bunker on his heels. When the table was set, the three of us sat down with our coffee.

“What time is your speci…Mason supposed to get here?” my brother asked, correcting himself. I appreciated that.

“I told him dinner would be around four o’clock. He said he’d come over sometime around three since he’d be coming down from Vancouver,” I said.

Kyle took a sip of coffee and asked, “Is he from there?”

“Not exactly,” I replied. Spencer was staring at his coffee cup and didn’t look up.

Thankfully, we were interrupted as Mom came in carrying two large plates of French toast and bacon. I didn’t really want to talk about Mason during breakfast, but I wasn’t sure if he’d continue to ask questions. Spencer averted Kyle’s attention, sensing my discomfort, and asked him about his job at the motorcycle dealership. Between the arrival of food and the subject change, it helped relieve my anxiety.

We loaded our plates, and Spencer let out a gleeful moan. “This is the best French toast I’ve ever had. There’s something different about the taste,” he said, stabbing another fork full.

Mom smiled. “I use eggnog along with the eggs in the batter. I’m glad you like it.”

Spencer looked at her in amazement mid-chew. “It’s incredible, Mrs. Olsen. Thank you for all this.” I could see Spencer’s eyes get wet with tears, and I knew he missed his family. I’m glad I invited him to be with mine.

“You’re quite welcome, Spencer. And we’re happy you’re here with us,” she replied, placing her hand on his arm.

After breakfast, we topped off our coffees and unwrapped presents. We’d decided before the holidays to draw names and give a gift to that one recipient. Although that was the rule, it was rarely followed. Kyle and I always got Mom a gift, and she, in turn, always gave a gift to each of us. Spencer was the added factor this year, but he still made out with a new video game from me and a gift card from Mom.

The rest of the day was lazy, except for Mom. She didn’t want any help in the kitchen even though we offered. Football was on TV when the doorbell rang. My heart hit my throat. Bunker barked, jumped up, and ran to the door.

“I’ll get it,” I said as I looked at Spencer, walked to the door, and gently pulled Bunker back.

When I opened it, there stood Mason holding a bottle of wine. He had a smile that looked a little forced. My heart leaped as I rushed into his arms and gave him a hard kiss on the mouth. I didn’t realize how much I’d really missed him, and I didn’t want to let go. He seemed a bit surprised at my reaction when I pulled back and saw his eyes.

---