The Seven Days of Christmas Page 3

  “You survived another onslaught,” Trey said.

  “Yeah, but it’s going to be like this all night.” Marty hesitated. “Look, if you don’t have anything pressing tomorrow, would you like to get some lunch?”

  “I presume you mean the two of us.” Trey gazed thoughtfully at him before nodding. “Sure. When and where?”

  “One-thirty, so we miss the Sunday brunch crowd. There’s a decent restaurant two blocks from here that I go to, Eggscelent Diner. Don’t worry; it’s not a diner-diner, even though it has checkered tablecloths.”

  “I think I’ve gone past it, but I rarely eat out, so I’ve never gone in.”

  “Well, now’s your chance.”

  “Sounds good, and—” Trey grinned and pointed, “—someone wants your attention, so I’ll leave you to it and see you tomorrow.”

  “You bet.”

  It worked. He said yes. All I have to do is convince him I’d like us to be more than friends, which might be hard. But I’m going to give it my all and see what happens, because I like him and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about a man.

  Chapter 4

  The fourth day

  “Why did I agree to this?” Trey grumbled as he got dressed Sunday morning. He’d wondered the same thing after leaving the bar the previous evening. It had been impulsive on both their parts he was sure—Marty’s asking, him accepting.

  If I had any sense at all and his phone number, I’d call to tell him something’s come up. He pointed a finger at his reflection in the mirror. “I am not going to get involved with him. I’m not. I’ve been there and it doesn’t work.” Then he chuckled. Am I being egotistical, thinking that’s what he has in mind? Maybe. Probably. Hell, we hardly know each other. A few nights talking at the bar when he has time, and one busy day of his working at the shop is hardly the basis for a deathless romance.

  Trey went to the living room closet to get his coat; put it on after checking to be certain he had his keys and wallet, and then paused before leaving the apartment. “Play it by ear, I guess. If he does anything that suggests he’s interested in being more than friends, deflect it. God only knows I had enough practice with that since the big break-up.”

  His general response when a man seemed interested in him was to tell him that he didn’t have time, with all he had to do to keep the shop up and running. I even told Marty that, though not in the context of ‘I have too much to do to go out for…whatever.’

  “Yeah, that works,” he told himself. Locking up, he went down to his car, drove out of the lot behind his building, and headed off to meet Marty.

  * * * *

  Marty found a place to park a block from the restaurant, which surprised him since he could tell when he drove past it that the place was still busy. “Someone watching over me?” He hoped so. “Of course Trey has to show up, too, which might be iffy. He could have gotten home and wondered why the hell he agreed to this.”

  He might have called Trey to see if he was coming, but he didn’t have his number. And he doesn’t have mine, so he couldn’t have called to back out.

  Shutting off the car, he got out and casually strolled up the block. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Trey walking toward him from the other direction.

  “Looks like we might have a bit of a wait after all,” Marty said when they met by the door to the restaurant.

  “Then we should be glad it’s not snowing…yet,” Trey responded, glancing up at the cloud-filled sky.

  “It can wait until next winter as far as I’m concerned.”

  Trey grinned. “Not your favorite season, I suspect.”

  “I feel about it the way you do about Christmas. Maybe we should put our heads together and find someplace that doesn’t have either one.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Trey replied as he opened the door so they could go inside.

  Marty gave his name to the hostess, who said it could be at least half an hour until they were seated. “Everyone seems to be celebrating the holiday early,” she explained with a rueful smile.

  “Do we want to wait, or try somewhere else?” Marty asked Trey.

  “I’d bet everywhere is going to be the same.”

  “That didn’t answer the question.”

  Trey grinned. “We’ll wait. At least they have free coffee.” He gestured toward a table along one wall with an urn and cups.

  They got coffee before going to stand along the wall with everyone else who was waiting. One of the couples was reading the menu. When Marty asked, they handed it to him, saying they knew what they wanted.

  “They have,” Marty said, holding it so he and Trey could share, “ten kinds of eggs, enough varieties of pancakes and French toast to satisfy anyone, and some oddities like pot pie and vegetarian tacos.”

  “The pot pie sounds kind of good,” Trey commented after checking what was in it. “But then so do the omelets.”

  They discussed the pros and cons of different choices. It killed the time until the hostess called Marty’s name. When they were seated at a table for two, they were able to tell the waiter as soon as he came over what they wanted.

  “Now we wait another twenty minutes until it gets here,” Trey said after taking a drink of his coffee, which the waiter had refilled.

  “So…umm…”

  Trey arched an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re at a loss for words.”

  “Nope, just deciding, do we discuss favorite movies, who we want to make it to the Super Bowl, or what our favorite Christmas cartoons are?”

  * * * *

  Trey laughed. “I don’t have a clue who’s even up for the Super Bowl, and I can’t say I care.” He was beginning to feel relaxed, now that they were seated across from each other, not standing shoulder to shoulder along the wall looking at the menu. That had been a little too close for comfort, considering he wasn’t certain how he felt about Marty.

  I know we’re friends, now. Is that all he wants? Is it all I want? Can I trust that he’s not another Dylan? Am I willing to find out? Presuming, of course, that he’s even remotely interested in me that way.

  “You what?” Marty said in obviously feigned shock, breaking into Trey’s musings. “Every red-blooded American male goes crazy over football. Didn’t you know that?”

  “So, who is in the running, Mr. Football Fan?”

  “Hell if I know. So, movies or cartoons?”

  “Movies, definitely. I haven’t watched anything remotely Christmassy in forever.”

  “Why?” Marty asked. “What made you so down on Christmas? Or isn’t it any of my business?”

  Trey shrugged. “I don’t mind that you’re asking, but I’d rather not talk about it right now. I don’t want to spoil our meal.”

  “Okay, I understand, so movies it is. What’s the one movie you never grow tired of, no matter how many times you’ve seen it?”

  They spent the rest of their wait until the waiter arrived with their meals talking movies and then books. It was, as Marty put it, obligatory when two people were getting to know each other better. Trey had to agree, and he realized he didn’t mind the implications behind that statement as much as he would have even twenty minutes ago. He was having fun, being with Marty—something that hadn’t happened with any other male in longer than he liked to think about.

  * * * *

  “It’s not snowing, yet,” Marty said when they left the restaurant. “Feel like walking to work off our meals?”

  “Sure. Why not? It’ll be more fun than apartment cleaning. What time do you have to be at work?”

  “Tuesday at six.”

  Trey grinned as they started walking. “Is that your not too subtle way of saying you’ve got Sundays and Mondays off?”

  “Yep. What about you?”

  “Normally, the shop is closed Sunday and Monday, unless we’re dealing with a holiday, like now, then it’s up for grabs. This week, I’m open tomorrow, and closed Christmas day.”

  “Got any plans for the big d
ay?”

  Trey’s expression darkened. “No. Well, opening presents from my family and then calling them. After that, I’ll probably go to a movie. It’s what I usually do. Find a couple I want to see and space out to kill time.”

  “How big a family?”

  “Parents, a brother and two sisters, all married with kids of their own. We get together for Easter every year.” Trey’s expression softened. “Their kids range from, umm, the youngest is two, now. The oldest is eight, I think. Yeah, eight. It’s sort of a mini family reunion without all the aunts and uncles and their families. If we all got together we’d need to rent a hall.”

  “Sounds great. I’ve got a brother, but that’s it. He’s still single, but not for long if his girlfriend has anything to say about it, according to my mom.”

  “Are your folks here in town?”

  “Yes, but Dad takes his vacation every December so they can go somewhere warm. If he didn’t, I’d be spending Christmas with them.” It was the truth, as far as it went. It all depended on when his father could take his two weeks. Marty changed the subject before Trey could ask where they’d gone this year, asking, “Why Easter, not Christmas?”

  “Because…” Trey picked up the pace, turning into a small park. Despite the winter weather, there were several people, adults and kids, on the paths. He paused long enough to let Marty catch up, then said, “Race you.”

  “You’re on.” Marty knew Trey was avoiding answering his question and went with it—for the moment.

  They took off, dodging around people, even picking up a companion, a boy around six or seven, Marty guessed. He seemed bent on showing them he could run fast, too, which he did until his father hollered for him to “Get over here.”

  They made it twice around the outer path, running side-by-side. Then Marty pointed to a vacant bench, saying, “I need to catch my breath.”

  “Wuss,” Trey replied with a grin, but he took the hint and sat when they got to it.

  “That was fun,” Marty said. “I haven’t done anything like that in ages.”

  “You and me, both.” Trey leaned back, gazing up at the dark clouds. “They’re just waiting for the prefect moment, then, ten inches of snow.”

  “Bite your tongue,” Marty muttered. “On the other hand, if they hold off for a couple of days, it would make for a pretty Christmas and add to the holiday mood.” He watched Trey as he said that, seeing his expression darken again. Putting one hand on Trey’s shoulder, he said, “Why do you hate it so much?”

  For a moment it seemed as if Trey wouldn’t answer, then he said, “Bad memories about a guy I used to live with. Him, and his family, and how they treated me whenever we got together. Like I wasn’t important enough for them to acknowledge my being there.”

  “The boyfriend, too?”

  Trey nodded. “The last time I saw him was Christmas night, three years ago. We had a huge fight because he didn’t support me when his father and brother started putting me down.” He went on to give Marty the gist of what had happened, ending by saying, “I packed a bag and left, telling Dylan I’d get the rest of my things in the morning and suggesting it would be a good idea if he wasn’t there.” He smiled bitterly. “He said he’d be at his parents. I shot back that they’d be glad I’d left him, or something like that, and they should consider it my Christmas present to them.”

  “Dylan?” Marty got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “Yeah. Dylan Carter, the big, important doctor who could do no wrong as far as his folks were concerned, other than hooking up with me.”

  “Shit,” Marty said under his breath.

  “Yeah, that pretty much describes it.”

  “I…” Marty clenched his hands together, not looking a Trey. “I know him. Well, I knew him.”

  Trey looked at him in shock. “You what?”

  “It has to be the same man. I met him, maybe a year ago, at the gym I used to go to. We hit it off and went out on a couple of dates. It never went beyond that because I decided he thought a bit too much of himself. Always bragging about what a good doctor he was, and his perfect family, like he was the only one in the world who had one.”

  Trey’s expression was chilly as he replied, “Sounds like him. Did he…did he ever mention me?”

  “He told me about some of his past…conquests. Bragged, even.” Marty thought back then nodded. “I’m pretty sure you must be the one he said fucked up his Christmas with his family because you wanted to be the center of attention.” He reached for Trey’s hand, taking it when he didn’t pull it away. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? At least you were smart enough to get out while you could. Me? Like an idiot, I stuck it out for four damned years.”

  “You loved him.”

  Trey lifted one shoulder. “I thought I did. I thought he loved me, in spite of how his family felt. I was wrong.” He tugged his hand free. “Now you know why I don’t like Christmas. It brings back too many bad memories. Lost love, if you can call it that. The feeling I’m not worthy of having someone who could care about me. I know that’s stupid, but by the time I got up the guts to end it with him that’s how I felt.”

  “You’re wrong, you know,” Marty said adamantly, taking Trey’s hand again. “You’re ten times the man he was.” He smiled softly. “I’d like to prove it to you, if you’d let me.”

  “I’m not sure I can take the chance,” Trey replied, turning away.

  “Trey, look at me.” When, with obvious reluctance, Trey did, Marty said, “It’s been three years. It’s time you did take a chance. I’m here. I like you. Quite a lot to tell the truth. I won’t make any promises because if I broke them it would drive you back to not trusting that any man might care for you. But I want us to give it a try.”

  Trey swallowed hard, gripping Marty’s hand. “If you’re sure.”

  “Believe me, I am. It’s you that has to be certain. If you don’t want us to be more than friends, say so. Okay?”

  “I’m willing to see what happens,” Trey replied after a long moment of silence. “Slowly.”

  “Of course.” Marty smiled in relief. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Trey lifted an eyebrow. “Sure you would, if I was someone other than me.”

  “Okay, you have a point. I’m not big on waiting when I want something, or someone. In your case I’ll make an exception because I think it’ll be worth it.”

  “I hope you still think that a month from now,” Trey replied, barely above a whisper.

  Taking a chance, Marty gave him a quick hug. “I know I will. Right now, though, how about we get out of the cold? I’m beginning to feel like an icicle.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Trey agreed, getting up.

  Marty joined him and they left the park. When they were heading back to where they’d parked, Marty asked, “Have you seen the new superhero movie that came out a couple of weeks ago?”

  “No. If you want to know, I was saving it for my Christmas movie marathon,” Trey replied with a doleful shake of his head.

  “Forget it. We’re going now. I’m sure we can find something else to do on Christmas day instead.” Marty pointed a finger at Trey. “Before you try to argue, don’t. It doesn’t have to be Christmassy, but it will be interesting.”

  “Like how?” Trey wanted to know.

  Marty grinned. “Got me, but we’ll figure something out.”

  Chapter 5

  The fifth day

  “Where’s tall, blond, and handsome?” Carol asked when she and Trey were in the shop’s break room before opening, Monday morning.

  “On his way, I hope. With the snow, he could be stuck in traffic.”

  “Tell me about it,” she replied as she took off her hat and coat, shaking them off before hanging them up. “It’s a good thing I left fifteen minutes early or I’d still be on the road.” She sat to change from her boots into her shoes and then got a cup of coffee. “I wonder if we’ll have any customers.”

&nb
sp; “A few. The ones who have to pick up costumes, anyway.”

  She grinned. “So I can go home when Marty gets here?”

  Trey rolled his eyes. “As if.” He checked the time then headed out front to open for the day. By ten-thirty, he was beginning to worry about Marty’s absence, so when he arrived a few minutes later, Trey didn’t know whether to be relieved, or pissed.

  “Sorry,” Marty said, shucking off his coat. “Some idiot was going too fast for the weather, rear-ended the car in front of him which caused a five car pileup, with me in the middle.”

  “Damn. Are you okay? What about your car?”

  “We both survived, although my bumpers might disagree. I dropped the car off at the shop and cabbed it here. I would have called but I don’t have your number.”

  “It’s in the phonebook, under ‘Costume Shops,’” Trey pointed out.

  “Which didn’t occur to me until I was almost here,” Marty replied with a wry grimace. “I wasn’t exactly operating on all six cylinders, to use a car metaphor.”

  “As long as you’re all right, I guess I’ll forgive you.”

  Marty chortled. “If I was lying at death’s door in a hospital, you wouldn’t?”

  Trey flipped him off just as the shop door opened and several people came in. It turned out they worked down the street and had been chosen to give out gifts at their office Christmas party the following night.

  “The boss didn’t bother to let us know until this morning,” one woman said, shaking her head. “At least the company’s paying for them, so here we are. We need something to fit the season but nothing sexy, and no elves. “

  “That’s good, since we’re out of elves,” Trey replied, smiling. He took them into the showroom, where he and Carol helped them choose costumes. Marty got rid of his coat and returned to the front office, coffee cup in hand, to keep an eye on things.

  “Not that you need me here,” he said to Trey an hour later, once the customers had departed with their costumes. “I have the feeling this is going to be a slow day.” He looked out the front window. “At least it’s stopped snowing, finally.”