Page 60 of The Mountain
I didn’t expect for the injustice of it to sting so badly. And alongside that, a bitter sense of guilt. Because I know what I look like to him—blue-eyed and blond, a wedding band on my finger. An all-American boy with a good little wife at home.
“Here they are.” He waves at a small glass cabinet, then fumbles in his pocket for the key.
I stare at the boxes, rows of color and text blurring together.For her pleasure. Vanilla flavor. Extra-large. A groan of dismay catches in my throat and I reach up to scrub at my face.
The old man gives a knowing smile, clapping me on the shoulder. “You just take your time, son. I’ll see you at the counter.”
Son. I give him a bland smile and suppress a shudder.I’m nothing like you, I want to shout.
But I stay silent, turning back to the intimidating display before me as I try to work out what sort of condoms Liam and Antoine would like most.
By the time I get to the checkout line, I’ve got three different boxes of condoms, a bottle of lubricant, a fake Christmas tree, six stockings, a container of plastic decorations for the tree, and enough chocolate and candy canes to give the six of us a stomachache.
An elderly woman in line behind me eyes the contents of my shopping cart with disapproval. “A bit late to be decorating for Christmas, isn’t it?” she gripes.
“Yes, ma’am,” I agree, ducking my head before blindly reaching into my cart to throw the items across the counter. A box of condoms skitters over the edge, bouncing cheerfully before landing beside the woman’s feet. She stares down at it, nostrils flaring, as if it’s a snake poised to attack. I let out a choked sound of dismay and scramble to pick it up.
“Find everything you need, son?”
The old man from earlier smirks from behind the register, eyes twinkling as wrinkled hands carefully scan each item. Normally, I like it when people smile at me, like the feeling of warmth and welcome, even when it’s just some stranger in a shop.
His smile feels like salt in a wound.
“Yessir,” I reply, and fix my gaze on the price display above the register. On the green-and-black numbers slowly tallying upward. Forty. Forty-five. Fifty…
“That’ll be fifty-five dollars, thirty-two cents.”
I pull out my credit card. One I got approved for years ago. Back when I was earning what felt like a fortune. Before my whole world fractured among metal and glass and sand.
“Here you go.” He places the last of the bags back in my shopping cart, the box containing the Christmas tree sticking up from underneath everything, then gives me another unwanted smile.
For a brief moment, I imagine telling him everything. Imagine blurting out: “I’m actually in a polyamorous relationship withfive people,” or, “People will be having gay sex with these condoms,” or, “Remember those guys you refused to sell condoms to yesterday? I’ll be giving these to them.”
I stay silent and grip the handle of the shopping cart. Grandpa’s ring presses steadily against my finger. The box with grandma’s ring presses against my chest. Against my heart. I can feel them in that moment, can practically smell Grandma’s soap and see Grandpa’s crooked smile.
I think about last night, the six of us curled up on the couch together, Lily in my arms, the sweet shampoo scent of her hair as it tickled my nose, Antoine’s thigh pressed against my own. I think about Eddie’s smile and Liam’s low, rasping laugh. I think about the way Seth sighed when he talked about Christmas in Canada with his family and his baby brother and sister.
And just like that, all the anger bleeds out of me, replaced by an aching sort of longing mixed with gratitude.
“You have a Merry Christmas, son.”
I give the old man my back and smile at the slush-covered parking lot as I stride out into the cold, my heart racing with excitement instead of anxiety. I’ve probably got less than an hour to turn our condo into a magical winter wonderland, to messily wrap up some presents and set up a fake, plastic tree.
I don’t think I’ve been this excited about Christmas since I was a little kid.
Chapter 22
Lily
“Do you think Matty’s okay?” I whisper. “He looked really upset when he left, and he didn’t even finish his lunch.”
My feet slip on the icy steps and Seth grips my hand with a murmured ‘careful,’ while Eddie turns to shoot my tennis shoes a scathing look. The same shoes that, only weeks ago, he took a knife to in an effort to give them better traction.
“He’ll be alright.” Seth offers an unconvincing smile, then drops my hand, only to wrap one arm around my waist. “He probably just needed a moment to himself.”
Eddie makes a sound of disagreement under his breath, his shoulders stiffening. “Shouldn’t have left him alone,” he grumbles, throwing us a worried frown over one shoulder. “I think the avalanche fucked him up a bit.”
“It fucked us all up,” Liam murmurs, Antoine tucked against his side as the pair follow us up the steps. “It was a fucked-up day.”
