The thought of them off on the cruise and the house in Victoria dark and empty and undecorated hurt more than Jeremy wanted it to.
The fireplace was in the corner to the left of the tree, a TV above the mantel. Three love seats bracketed the hearth and a square wooden coffee table with its own holiday centerpiece of holly and ivy. A large rug carpeted most of the living room, and it was thick beneath Jeremy’s socked feet.
The cream walls were decorated with dozens of framed family photos. Jeremy was eager to examine the pics of younger Max, but followed as Valerie led him past the solid dining table into the kitchen, where a thin man with wispy gray hair was taking out a tray of golden pinwheel pastries from the oven.
“Got it?” Valerie asked.
“’Course I do,” he grumbled. He dropped the tray on the gas stove top with a clatter, the Santa-themed oven mitts comically big on him. Valerie and John shared a look but said nothing. She went and kissed the man’s papery cheek.
The kitchen had clearly been remodeled, with a big island and white cabinets that gleamed. The marble countertop along the wall under a small window was cluttered with the baking ingredients, a spray of flour over the wood floor.
“This is Jeremy. Max’s friend.”
“Oh, you mean you didn’t pick him up on the street corner? Of course he’s Max’s friend.” Extending his hand, he said, “I’m Pierre.” At the last second he realized he was still wearing the oven mitts and took them off to reveal gnarled fingers.
Jeremy shook his hand, which felt dry and bumpy but had a surprisingly crushing grip. “Very nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for having me.”
“Well, why wouldn’t we?” He wheezed a laugh and went back to his cookies, picking up a spatula to transfer them to a wire rack.
Jeremy followed Valerie and John out of the kitchen and down a passageway that looked very new. They explained that they’d had a sitting room converted into a bedroom and en suite bathroom for Valerie’s father, passing the closed door and heading back to the main living area.
“It’s a really nice house.”
“Thank you, Jeremy.” Valerie gave him a smile. “What a polite young man you are.”
“Max said your parents are away? Where did they go?” John asked.
“Oh, they’re on a cruise in Hawaii.”
“You chose rural Ontario over Hawaii? You need to give your head a shake!” John exclaimed with a hearty laugh.
Max appeared, glaring. “Dad.”
“It’s okay,” Jeremy said, trying to laugh along. “I wasn’t actually invited to Hawaii.” He quickly added, “My parents are paying for res and my tuition. I can’t expect more. It’s only fair they get to treat themselves and my little brother. They’re meeting up with my mom’s old friend who lives in the States, and she has kids my brother’s age, so it all works out well. I had a late exam, so I couldn’t go anyway…”
He trailed off, aware of the awkward silence and pitying expressions.
“It’s okay. It’s not like they kicked me out or told me they hate me. It’s all very civil.” He winced internally as he said the soulless word.
“Civil,” Valerie echoed. “My goodness.” Her face pinched before she forced a bright smile. “Lucky for us we get the pleasure of your company. And another helping hand for Saturday!”
Jeremy nodded eagerly. Anything to get off the subject of his parents. “What’s the event?”
She answered, “We do three Saturday open houses leading up to the holidays and promote it with a Christmas tree farm not too far from here. Joint flyers and ads encouraging folks to visit us both and make a full day of it. We coordinate to make sure we have different activities. Oh, John, did you ask Hunter if they need more syrup for this weekend for their flavored coffee and hot chocolate?”
“Let me text him now.” John pulled out his phone.
In a conspiratorial half-whisper, Valerie said, “The tree farmer has a young lover who’s done such a wonderful job promoting the business.”
Meg hopped off the last stair, coming down from upstairs. “He’s probably, like, twenty-five now. Super hot if you’re into twinks. Nick Spini was such a grumpy fucker before Hunter came along. Super hot if you’re into lumberjack daddies.”
Lips thin, Valerie’s nostrils flared as her eyes narrowed. “Megan.”
Meg shrugged, trying not to grin. “Am I wrong, Mom?”
Valerie opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. “Fine,” she muttered. “You’re not wrong, but language.”
John, who seemed to be happily ignoring the whole exchange, glanced up from his phone. “They’re running low. Max, can you run over a few cans this afternoon? Then we can decorate the tree.”
“Cool,” Max agreed. “Jer, let me show you your room.”
The stairs creaked under them, another fresh garland and golden fairy lights wrapped around the banister. The upstairs hallway was narrow, the floor uneven.
“They renovated downstairs first, as you can tell,” Max said. “That’s the master at the end of the hall, and they have their own bathroom. We’re stuck with the ancient one that’s the second door on the right. Meg’s up on the left, this is you, and this is me across the hall.” He motioned to the first room on the right.
Jeremy couldn’t stop the spark of excitement at sleeping so close to Max. Maybe we can just… No! We can’t. Only friends! No benefits! At least not until January.
“Great, thanks. Um…” He cast about for something to say and stupidly landed on, “Is there really a delay on the LSAT results?”
Max bristled. “You think I’m lying?”
“No!” Jeremy floundered. “I just thought… Well, maybe you didn’t want to talk about it because you’re not happy with how you did.”
Rubbing his face, Max sighed. “Sorry. Don’t know why I got so defensive. It’s not you.” He briefly squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder. “It really is delayed.”
Jeremy itched to soothe him, but a hug was probably way too much. Instead, he tentatively took hold of Max’s arm. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”
Max exhaled sharply. “Yeah. I… Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
Jeremy smiled, and his hand was still on Max’s arm, and maybe hugging him wouldn’t be too weird? Friends hugged. He could make it one of those back-slapping bro hugs. But the moment stretched out too long, and he had to drop his hand. They stared at each other, and Jeremy fiddled with his new glasses.
“I should run that errand,” Max said, jerking his thumb toward the stairs.
“Right. Yep. I’ll unpack or whatever.”
Max nodded, but at the top of the staircase, he spun back. “Or if you want to come with me, you can see more of the area.”
“Sure.” He tried hard to hit a casual tone. “That would be cool.”
Jeremy practically skipped after him, the fa-la-la-la-la on the radio earlier echoing in his head.
Chapter Eight
One kiss wouldn’t hurt.
Max scoffed at himself as he turned Valerie’s old pickup onto the main road under a gray sky. One kiss would be a disaster because there was no way it wouldn’t turn into more. Way more. He fiddled with the radio, settling on the rock station playing Tragically Hip. Jeremy gazed out the window from the passenger seat, apparently engrossed in the snowy forest and the odd house they passed.