The Seven Days of Christmas Read online

  “That’s easy to explain. My Dad’s mother has been in a rest home for the last few years, since my grandfather died. My folks got a call from the home’s administrator, a couple of weeks before her first Christmas after that happened. She was still cognizant, I guess you could call it, and deeply depressed, the man said, so Mom and Dad went out there to be with her.”

  “Still cognizant?”

  “Yeah. She has dementia, now. It started soon after that visit. Mom and Dad make it a point to be with her on Christmas, despite that, so our family gathering got moved to Easter.”

  “They sound like good people,” Marty said.

  Trey nodded. “They’re the best, although I think your folks come in a close second.” He smiled crookedly, leaning into Marty’s embrace since he hadn’t moved his arm. “They accept me for what I am, without question.”

  “Of course they do!’ Marty replied. “You’re practically perfect—”

  “In every way,” they said in unison, and then laughed.

  “I’m hardly that,” Trey said, sobering.

  “You are to me,” Marty retorted just as his mother called out, “If you two aren’t too busy with…whatever—” there was laughter in her voice, “—would you please finish setting the table.”

  “I thought it was set,” Marty grumbled under his breath, getting a ‘poor baby’ look from Trey in reply.

  It turned out they needed to put glasses and coffee cups at each place, and get out the serving spoons that matched what Marty told Trey was the silverware that only got used for special occasions.

  By the time they finished, Bill and Grace were setting bowls with the mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, and vegetables on the table. Then Rich carried out a huge platter with the turkey, partially carved, putting it at the head of the table beside the stack of plates.

  “Ladies, gentlemen, dinner is served,” Rich announced, and everyone came to stand behind their chairs. For a second Trey wondered why they hadn’t sat down, until they all bowed their heads and Rich said, “For this meal we are about to eat, for those who made it possible, and for those we share it with, we are thankful.”

  “So it is said, so it will be,” Norrie, Bill, and Marty replied in response, and then everyone said, “Amen.”

  “Now, we eat.” Bill grinned, pulling out Grace’s chair for her.

  Rich put slices of turkey on the plates, after asking whether each person preferred white or dark meat, and handed them out. The bowls of side-dishes were passed around and soon everyone was digging in.

  “This is so-o-o good,” Trey said halfway through the meal.

  “Shush,” Bill, who was seated across from him, stage-whispered. “We don’t want Mom getting an inflated ego.”

  “With you here, that’ll never happen,” Norrie retorted, waggling her finger at him.

  “Keep that up and no dessert for you,” Rich added, looking sternly at his elder son.

  “Who has room for it, anyway,” Trey whispered to Marty. “I’m about at the bursting point already.”

  “Wait until you taste Mom’s bourbon-pecan pie,” Bill replied, having overheard him. “You’ll find space for it.” He turned to Norrie. “You know I was teasing.”

  “Yes, dear, I did, and you’re forgiven.”

  Putting his hands prayerfully together, Bill said, “Thank you, thank you.”

  After everyone finished eating, Marty told his parents to remain seated and then the younger males carried the dishes into the kitchen. Grace took care of putting the leftovers into containers that went into the fridge. Bill took the pie from the warming oven, Marty got fresh drinks for everyone, and they returned to the dining room.

  After taking two bites of pie, Trey asked Bill, “Do I dare compliment your mother, again?”

  “I think you already did, obliquely,” Bill replied.

  Trey grinned. “Did, didn’t I?” He realized, as he spoke, that he was comfortable joking with Bill and the others. They’re like a second family. They make me feel as if I belong. This is how it should be, and I know it will be the same for Marty when I take him home with me this Easter. Damn, am I planning that far ahead for us? Yeah, I am. It might be too soon. We’re barely starting to be more than friends, but fingers crossed, we’ll be at the point by then that asking him to meet my family will feel right. He took Marty’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

  “What was that about?” Marty asked.

  “Letting you know I’m glad I’m here with you and your family.” He lowered his voice so only Marty would hear him as he added, “It feels right.”

  “Because it is,” Marty told him just as quietly. He leaned forward, lifting his hand, and for a second Trey thought he was going to kiss him. Instead, he brushed his thumb over the corner of Trey’s mouth, saying, “You’re supposed to eat the pie, not wear it,” ending their brief moment of intimacy when everyone laughed.

  “I was trying to save some to take home with me,” Trey quipped, not the least put off by the family’s amusement.

  Norrie grinned. “I’ll give you a slice before you leave—on a plate. It’s not as messy that way.”

  They finished with dessert, the younger contingent took care of clearing the table and doing the dishes, and then everyone settled in the living room with cups of coffee.

  At that point, Bill said, “I have one more present to give out, if Grace will accept it.” He took a small box from his pocket before kneeing in front of her. “I think you know how I feel about you,” he said. “You are the woman who completes me. It would make me the happiest man in the world if you would agree to be my wife.”

  Grace nodded, tearing up. “Of course I will. I love you.” She held out her hand when he took a ring from the box, her face lighting up as he slipped it on her finger. “This is the best Christmas present, ever,” she told him—and then they kissed, amid cheers from the others.

  After that, the conversation became general until Marty got up, announcing that he had to leave if he was going to make it to work on time. “Which means Trey’s leaving, too, since he’s my chauffeur.”

  Goodbyes were said, with Trey making it a point to thank Norrie and Rich for allowing him to be their guest.

  “Trey,” Norrie replied, surprising him with a hug, “you’re welcome here whenever you want to visit, with or without Marty.”

  “I…thank you…” he managed to stutter in reply.

  “I mean it.” She patted his arm. “Now get my wayward son to work so he doesn’t get fired.”

  Marty rolled his eyes, hugged everyone, including his future sister-in-law, and he and Trey took off.

  * * * *

  “Do you want me to pick you up after work?” Trey asked when they were parked in front of the bar.

  “I’d say yes, if you didn’t have to work tomorrow,” Marty replied.

  “I can take a nap when I get home.”

  Marty smiled. “You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course.” Trey paused, gazing at him. “You’re that important to me. I hope you know it.”

  “I do. You mean the world to me, too.” Marty leaned in and this time Trey knew he was going to kiss him. He was right. Cupping Trey’s face with his hands, Marty planted a lingering kiss on his lips.

  Trey sighed happily as he returned it, spearing his fingers into Marty’s hair to keep him there. When, inevitably, they broke apart to catch their breaths, he said, “Who knew, just a week ago, that I would find a man who would show me it was possible to embrace Christmas and all that it means, instead of dreading it.”

  Marty grinned. “I’d say I did, but I’d be lying.” He sobered, caressing Trey’s cheek. “In turn, you trusted me not to hurt you. To me, that means everything.”

  “I knew you never would. You don’t have it in you. Neither does your family.” Trey brushed a kiss over Marty’s lips. “You think of others, not yourselves, and want them to be happy. That is the true meaning of Christmas.”

  “It is,” Marty
replied. “It’s something you’re very good at, whether you believe it or not. It’s why I care about you. I always will. It may take time for us to take the next step, but it will happen.”

  “For sure, if I have anything to say about it.”

  “You are half of us, of you and me. Of course you’ve got something to say about it, you nut.” Marty glanced at the clock on the dashboard and sighed. “Right now, though, I’d better get in there.” He nodded to the bar. “Wish me luck. It’s either going to be dead slow, or everybody who’s bored with family gatherings will show up, half-sauced already.”

  “The joys of Christmas,” Trey replied with a laugh. “Okay. I’ll be back at two, to give you a ride home. Don’t argue, it’s happening.”

  “Yes, bossman.”

  They kissed again, quickly, before Marty got out of the car. As he opened the door of the bar he turned to wave. Trey waved back, smiling happily, and then headed home, whistling “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” knowing that from now on he would, with Marty by his side.

  THE END

  ABOUT EDWARD KENDRICK

  Born and bred in Cleveland, I earned a degree in technical theater, later switched to costuming, and headed to NYC. Finally seeing the futility of trying to become rich and famous in the Big Apple, I joined VISTA—Volunteers in Service to America—ending up in Chicago for three years. Then it was on to Denver where I put down roots and worked as a costume designer until I retired in 2007.

  I began writing a few years ago after joining an online fanfic group. Two friends and I then started a group for writers, where they could post any story they wished no matter the genre or content. Since then, for the last five years, I’ve been writing for publication—my first book came out in February of 2011. Most, but not all, of my work is M/M, either mildly erotic or purely ‘romantic.’ More often than not it involves a mystery or action/adventure, and is sometimes paranormal to boot.

  For more information, visit edwardkendrick.blogspot.com.

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