Page 27 of Meeting Mr. Christmas
“You should order your groceries online if you can’t get to the store. Or I can get Mom to send you regular deliveries of home cooked food.” Jed grinned, his eyes full of mischief.
“What?” God knew, Noel loved Francine, but the thought of her bustling around, armed with box upon box of Tupperware, standing over him and urging him to eat up like a good boy…
Jed began to laugh.
“You’re a dick, Jed Mason.”
“As you’ve told me before.”
“You can stand your mom down. I’ll go to the store, I promise. Just haven’t had the time, that’s all.”
“It’s not the only thing you’ve not had time for.” Jed made a point of looking around the room. With a pile of Christmas cards on the side and a box with a few tattered decorations forlorn and forgotten in the corner, Noel may have been Christmas by name, but according to his undecorated apartment, not by nature.
“I got them out of the cupboard. That’s a start.” It was also going to be the end. With nobody here but him, and with Christmas Day being spent with Jed and his family, what was the point of putting up the dusty old decorations that had long ago seen better days?
“A start’s not good enough, Christmas. This is your season. Put on some tree decorating music and we’ll get started.”
Jed tumbled everything from the box as Noel found the perfect mix on his streaming app, Christmas carols given a jazz twist, grinning when Jed groaned.
“What can I say? I was raised in a home with two jazz crazy parents,” he said, as Ella Fitzgerald’s rich voice filled the room.
Jed sifted through the pile on the floor. “I think we have everything we need. Or just about.” Jed looked up and smiled before he returned to sorting the decorations.
Noel’s eyes dropped to a close as he took in a quiet, deep inhale. A heady mix of fragrant blooms, cut through withthe sharper scent of greenery. It melded and mingled with a masculine scent that owed nothing to any cologne, but was uniquely Jed’s own.
“Hey, is this the little tree you used to have in your room?” Jed unfolded a plastic, rainbow colored tree.
Noel jumped, his eyes snapping open. “Er, what? Oh, yes. It is.” He looked at the tree Jed was quickly assembling.
No more than four feet high, the bright and brash tree brought a lump to his throat. How could he not put it up and deck it out with all the flamboyant and cheesy decorations it was made for?
“Mom and dad gave it to me.” Seventeen years old and three days before Christmas, he’d taken every shred of courage he had — which hadn’t been much — and told them the truth about himself.
“I remember,” Jed said quietly. “Didn’t I tell you they’d be cool about it?”
Noel nodded, the lump in his throat growing bigger. They’d been more than cool. The following day, when he’d gone into his room, he’d found the little rainbow tree set up, dripping decorations and twinkling lights.
“Are you okay?” A warm, strong hand came to rest on his shoulder, gently massaging. Sighing, Noel pushed into Jed’s touch. “I know you miss your mom and dad, but you’ll be seeing them early in the new year. Come on, let’s do this.”
And they did. Tawdry scraps of tinsel, scratched and chipped candy canes, and Christmas angels with bent or broken wings, all of it went on the little tree.
Jed checked the box for any decorations he’d missed. “What’s this?” In his hand, he held something loosely wrapped in creased tissue paper.
“I don’t…” But the memory was resurfacing, making its way like a diver heading up from the deep. How could he haveforgotten the decoration that had taken pride of place on his little Christmas tree?
“You’ve still got yours!” Jed exclaimed as he peeled the paper layers away. The bright red ornament had seen better days. Battered, scratched, and mottled, where patches of silver glitter had come away.
“Oh my god! I remember getting this done at the tree lighting ceremony. We got one each because the second was half price.”
Personalized Holiday Ornaments, the sign above the booth had read, Your Face on Our Baubles… Two grinning faces, pressed together, Jed’s arm around his shoulder and pulling him in tight. Two teenage boys on the cusp of becoming men, Noel had been crushing hard. His heart twisted. Had been… and still was.
“Still got mine. Always will have it, too.” Jed said quietly, as he brushed his thumb over the print of their faces.
They’d been so bound up in each other, like a ball of twine it had been impossible to pick apart. Noel’s heart thudded in his chest and his mouth dried to sun baked desert sand. He licked his lips, which were no more than dried strips of leather. In the warm and quiet room, just the two of them, bathed in soft lamplight, he could tell Jed. He could tell him how much he loved him, had always loved, he could?—
“I’ve got mine in my bedroom, on my desk. It kind of makes a good paperweight.”
Noel blinked. “What? Oh. It’s good for something, I guess.” He blinked again. Paperweight? It was as light as a feather, and round. It would roll away. Since when would it make a good paperweight?
