Page 45 of Meeting Mr. Christmas
“Hey, boy.” Jed scratched the old dog behind one of his ears. “It’s been one hell of a year. Sometimes I have to pinch myself just to make sure it’s all real. If I hadn’t finally faced up to who I really was, and what I wanted…” Jed shook his head, the thought of how empty his heart would have been without Noel sending ashiver down his spine. Gomer whined, and wobbled as he lifted a front leg and laid a big, old paw on Jed’s other thigh. “This is just the start, Gomer.” Jed’s voice dropped to a whisper as he ran a palm over the rough fur on the dog’s head. “Okay, so we haven’t got the white picket fence yet, the big yard, or a porch with a swing out front, but we’ll get them. And those mini-Noels I know he wants so much, along with some mini-Jeds, too. I think he’d like some mini-Jeds, don’t you?” Mini-Noels and mini-Jeds… raising a family of their own.
Gomer climbed up onto Jed’s lap, snuffling and snorting as he settled down. Jed buried his fingers into Gomer’s wiry coat.
“I never thought much about being a dad before. Why would I have, when almost no girl made it to a second date?” A twinge of guilt pulled at his stomach. All those cute little brunettes, but none had been the one he’d really yearned for. “But with Noel… I think we’d make great dads, don’t you, boy?”
Gomer looked up at him, cocking his head to the side before he barked.
Jed grinned. “Knew you’d agree?—”
“What are you talking to Gomer about? It looks like you were having a serious, grown up conversation.” Noel set the tray down on the coffee table. Hot chocolate, a glass of eggnog each, and a plate piled high with — mince pies. Lucian had given them a large box, from the care package his mom still sent him from England, which was just as well as Noel had become addicted to the little vine fruit pies.
“We were.” Jed picked up his hot chocolate. “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
Jed was so full he could hardly move.
The table had groaned under the weight of food as his mom filled up every available space with plates and bowls and family heirloom serving dishes containing every single festive food known to man. And now she was piling left overs that would last until spring into a collection of giant sized Tupperware, ready for him and Noel to take home. Christmas evening was going to be spent lying in a food induced coma on the couch, rather than what he’d had planned, which was getting naked, and very sweaty, on the rug in front of the fire.
“I’ve also got a box of Great Aunt Wendy’s cookies for you. I had to break off the most burned edges, but otherwise they’re good. She’s almost blind, the poor dear, but she does so love to bake.”
“I think we’ve got enough, Mom.”
“Nonsense. You boys don’t eat enough. Didn’t I say that, Hank?”
All eyes turned to Jed’s dad; he was asleep at the table, snoring over his abandoned second helping of whipped cream slathered pumpkin pie.
“Hank, wake up.” Francine shook Hank, who came to with a start, his head snapping from side to side. “Coffee and sugar cookies in the living room in ten minutes. You’ve always got room for a sugar cookie.”
Hank pushed himself up. “I gotta go lie on the bed,” he muttered as he staggered from the kitchen.
“Noel, you could eat a sugar cookie, couldn’t you?”
“Hugnn…”
“What was that, dear?”
“Go sit in the living room before you pass out.” Jed eased Noel to his feet and gently pushed him in the direction of the kitchen door. “Maybe we could have coffee and cookies later,” he said, turning back to his mom. Like in a week’s time, because there was no way he was going to be eating until then.
Francine huffed. “I really don’t know what’s happened to you, because you used to have such a healthy appetite. Help me clear the table and then we’ll go join Noel.The Sound of Musicis on a little later. It’s such a lovely movie, and we can watch it together.”
Jed stifled his smile. It was on TV every year, and his mom always insisted on watching it; the one time he’d suggestedDie Hard, instead, she’d looked at him with such upset in her eyes he’d felt guilty for days.
“It’s good having you and Noel here, Jed. I’ve got to admit, the house feels kind of quiet now you’ve moved out.”
“We’re here a lot, Mom. For dinner a couple times a week, and I make sure I drop by.”
Francine turned from putting leftovers in the fridge. “I know, and believe me I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. Goodness forbid I’m that kind of mother. It’s just that when your kids make their move out into the world, the nest that was always so busy just feels a little quiet, that’s all. You’ll discover that for yourself in time, when you and Noel raise a family. Pass me those freezer bags, will you, dear?”
His mom’s words echoed in his head. Kids. He and Noel would become parents, it was as certain as the rise and set of the sun, but…
“Would you and dad like to be grandparents, to our children? I mean, two dads or two moms, it’s still unusual and I?—”
“Thought your father and I were too small town to feel comfortable with that?” She tutted and shook her head, her gaze steady on his, and Jed felt the flush pulse in his face. Francine laughed and patted his cheek. “We are small town, but that doesn’t mean small minded. We’d love to spoil some little Jeds and Noels, and as your brother seems to be wedded to the military, you two boys are our only hope. I think I might need to divide this into two freezer bags, don’t you?”
“Er, sure.” Jed looked down at mashed potato his mom was scraping out of the dish.
“Jed, sit down. All you’re doing is getting in the way. It’ll be quicker if I sort this out.”
He collapsed into a chair. The breath had been punched from his lungs, not because of her admonishment but because of her easy acceptance that he and Noel would supply all those grandkids she so desperately wanted to fuss over. But why should he be surprised? Like his brother, he’d always had his parents’ full support and backing. They’d taken it in their stride when he’d told them how he felt about Noel, and his mom was doing the same about the future grandkids she’d be spoiling. God, he was so damn lucky to have the mom and dad he did.
