Page 51 of Tommy

“Do you have June’s phone number?”

“Of course. Why?”

“No reason. Is it written down anywhere?”

He smirked. “I don’t need anything for Christmas,” he said. “Please. I don’t celebrate it.”

I scoffed, gesturing at all the decoration in the house. “This says otherwise. I’m not sure if you’ve seen, but this is very Christmas.”

“Fine, but I don’t want anything that takes too much,” he said. “I’d be happy with a drawing if you want to do that for me.”

“Nope, I know what you’re getting,” I said. “And if you want, maybe you can tell me what I’m getting.”

He shook his head. “You’re not opening it until Christmas, and I’m gonna make sure you don’t.”

That knot came again. We weren’t even going to be around each other to open presents. It seemed like there was no point in it if that was the case. I pushed the feeling aside. I was reassured that when I left, that wasn’t the end of the bond we’d created together. In fact, it was just the start.

Hardin gave me June’s number, but before that, I had to call some other people and make the necessary plans to get it to her. I figured she’d bring it when I was being collected to go to the airport. The knot continued to give me trouble, sitting in the pit of my stomach. No amount of sweet treats would cover it completely.

It went as far as to keep me awake, and I felt like I was back to my apartment bedroom, staring at the ceiling with a sense of impending doom and dread looming. I might’ve shed a tear, but I didn’t recall once I finally got to sleep and wake up to the cheerful whistle from Hardin and another morning where the smell of breakfast could wipe away all the stress.

Hauled up in the kitchen, curled up around a cup of hot cocoa at the table, Hardin spoke to me but his words were numb to my ears. Only his lips moved until I caught him smile and blood rushed back to my senses.

“You good there?” he asked.

“I’m just thinking.”

“No more of that,” he said, back at the pan on the stove with a spatula. “I felt you toss and turn last night. You’re lucky I know how to hunker down and sleep through anything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said no more of that.” I knew he was being serious, but he said it so playfully. “You’ll feel better after you eat. Scrambled egg, a little goat cheese in there, and some toast.”

My appetite had been diminished from all the chocolate I’d been drinking, but the moment I had my first bite, I completely devoured it.

Hardin had done everything in his power to reassure me, once more. I knew that it was impossible to run away from all the bad mental health spaces my brain found itself circling.

“I remember when Mick first asked me to host you,” he said from across the dining table. “He said you were a talented kid, he said you needed a change of scenery, and I’ve tried my best to give you it. I don’t want what we have to put you back in a place where you’re not able to work.”

It was that obvious. “It’s fine.”

“I know it’s not,” he said. “I know when one of the horses is feeling down, or when one of the goats is a little anxious. And because I know that about them, I’m pretty damn certain I can read a person. Now, I’m not saying you’ve got to tell me all your deepest and darkest secrets to free yourself from them, but I want you to feel comfortable enough to share what you’re going through with me.”

My first attempt at speaking was inaudible. I repeated myself. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I’m not forcing you to,” he said, reaching out to me with an open palm.

I slipped my hand into his. “But the flight is booked and I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience on everyone to get it changed.”

He gave my hand nice squeeze, pulsating his grip like a heart beat. “You’re not inconveniencing anyone. I’ll call Mick, I’ll get it changed, if you want to stay, I want you to. But I know you have people back home, and I don’t want to take you from those plans.”

I shook my head. “My mom’s in Florida now and we don’t make plans anymore,” I told him. “And my friends, again, no plans, but even if we did, they’d probably be ok with this. For the reasons why I’m staying at least.” I found myself smiling so big, from ear-to-ear.

“Tell me more about those reasons,” he said, still softly pulsing his grip. “Because I’d love to know if they match my reasons.”

There wasn’t a written list, or even an ordered one. “More time with you,” I said. “And Christmas together, which would be nice to see you open my present for you. And I don’t want you take the tree down before Christmas. It’s bad luck and I don’t want you to have bad luck.”

He nodded. “Noted. I would also like to see you open the gift I’ve got for you. I. would also like to have Christmas dinner with you as well. I’ve not had one in a while, and the more time we’re together, the more you’ve made me crave that sort of family feeling to this type of year.”

---