The house and barn glowed with colored Christmas lights, the starbursts of red, green, blue, yellow, and pink beautiful. While Max put away the snowmobile in the garage, Jeremy put his glasses back on, the lights no less beautiful for being in focus. He inhaled deeply.
“This feels like peace on Earth.”
“And good will to men?”
“I think there’s something about bells?”
“We can ask Valerie. She’s a walking encyclopedia of Christmas carols.”
Their boots crunched in the snow as they strolled toward the house. The porch was awash in color from the outdoor bulbs and the golden-lit tree in the front window. Jeremy took out his phone and held it up. “Think a selfie will come out?”
Slinging his arm about Jeremy, Max took the phone and positioned them, turning this way and that until he was satisfied. “Smile.” He lowered the phone. “Yeah. That’s a great one. Can you send it to me?”
Jeremy stared at the pic. He and Max had their heads together, the pom-poms on their toques meeting. Their smiles were bright in the glow of the flattering Christmas lights. Before he could talk himself out of it, he tapped out a text to his parents and attached the pic.
Hope you guys had a great day in Honolulu. This is Max. Mom, you were right—we’re more than friends. This isn’t a phase I’m going through. I’m gay. I hope you can accept that. Please tell Sean I miss him. I miss you all. I love you.
He tilted the phone at Max. “Does this sound okay?” His mouth was suddenly dry.
Max nodded. “That sounds perfect. Are you sure you’re ready? There’s no pressure. If you want to think about it more, take your time.”
He’d spent so long thinking and thinking and thinking. His finger hovered over the screen.
The front door opened and Meg stuck out her head. “There you are! Get in here, you goobers. Dinner’s ready.”
Jeremy looked at the message one more time, then hit send.
Chapter Fourteen
Max swore under his breath as the tape on his thumb caught another piece and got twisted as he tried to keep the wrapping paper straight. He was going to make a joke about how he was all thumbs, but when he looked over at Jeremy on the love seat across the coffee table, he bit his tongue.
It had been two days since Jeremy had sent the pic of them together to his parents. Nothing in reply. Now it was Christmas Eve, and Jeremy had been understandably subdued through dinner, only picking at his tourtière. He’d offered to help Max wrap presents, but he sat with a box of fancy mints half-wrapped on his lap, staring into the fire.
The Christmas music station was on the TV, the mournful “In the Bleak Midwinter” seeming appropriate. Max wanted to tell Jeremy for the hundredth time that it would be okay, no matter what. He wanted to fix this. He wanted to call the cruise ship, have the Rourkes paged, and rip them a new one.
“You don’t have to stay up to help,” Max said quietly. “It’s my fault I always leave it to the last minute.”
Jeremy snapped to attention, blinking at the mints like he was surprised to find them in his lap. “No, I don’t mind.” He folded the snowman paper over the box.
Max still had Jeremy’s present to wrap, but he could quickly put it in a gift bag if all else failed. While Jeremy had been meeting Levi, Max had picked him up a new case for his glasses. Which was probably stupid, since the glasses had come with a case. But this one was smooth leather and marked with his initials. A kiosk in the mall had offered all sorts of personalized leather goods, and this had felt perfect. He hoped it was.
“This one’s for Meg?” Jeremy asked.
“Yep. It’s an old joke about how her breath stinks. It really doesn’t, but one time she ate so much garlic she was sweating it out. Her breath was a deadly weapon.”
Smiling absently, Jeremy wrote the tag and got up to tuck the box onto one of the tree’s thick boughs. The golden lights on the tree reflected off his glasses. He wandered to the fire, adding another log, then peered at the photos that covered the wall.
Noticing Max watching, he asked, “Is this your mom?”
“Yeah.” His throat was suddenly tight, but Max forced an even tone as he joined Jeremy and pointed to the four pictures in the big frame. “Her and my dad’s wedding. She always wanted a Princess Diana dress with poufy sleeves, even though it was out of style by then. Her law school graduation. With me as a hairy baby. The three of us on vacation in Goa at the beach. I have a vague memory of her in that red bathing suit helping me build a sandcastle.”
“She was beautiful.”
“Thanks.” His laugh was strained. “I don’t know why I said that. Not like I had anything to do with it.”
Jeremy smiled and gazed at the other framed photos of the family—Valerie, Dad, Meg, Mamy and Papy, Max, and various aunts and uncles and cousins. Grinning, Jeremy pointed to the grade nine uniformed school photo of Max with zits and his hair slicked down with half a bottle of gel.
“I never imagined you having an awkward phase.”
“Glad to hear it, but clearly inaccurate, as you can see.”
Jeremy laughed, and Max would happily bust out his embarrassing yearbooks if it would cheer up Jeremy, who slowly walked the wall, eyes roving over the photos. Max found himself stuck at the pics of his mom, the ache familiar. Dependable. Her smile had been a little crooked, and she squinted into the sun in the beach photo.
“I know all these pics so well. Like, if I close my eyes, I can see the images of her in my mind as if I’m looking right at them. But I don’t remember the real her. Not really.”
Jeremy took Max’s hand. “You were young, right?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat as he stared at the beach photo. “I’ve lived more of my life without her. Thirteen years.”
“It doesn’t seem fair.”
“Nope.” He squeezed Jeremy’s hand. “But life isn’t always fair. Especially when it comes to family.”
“True. But I shouldn’t complain. Compared to what you went through—”
“No comparing. You get to be upset. Okay?”
Jeremy nodded. His gaze wandered the wall. “Is that your mom at court?”
“Yeah, her first case at the Superior Court of Justice wearing the robes.” Max gazed at the photo: Mom with her wavy hair pulled back into a bun, the traditional black waistcoat and long black robe a bit too big for her, the white collar and tabs around her neck. She should have looked utterly serious, but in the picture, she had her hands on her hips and a grin lighting up her face. “Her friend took it in the bathroom before she went into the courtroom.”
“How do you feel looking at it now knowing that might never be you?”
Max stared at his mom’s cocky grin. “Pretty good, actually. I think she’d tell me to get over myself already.” He laughed, and it really did feel good. But when he looked back to Jeremy beside him, his smile vanished.
Rigid, Jeremy stared at his phone. “My dad texted,” he croaked. Hands trembling, he unlocked the phone and read the message.
Please be decent humans, Max begged the Rourkes in his head. Please see how incredible your son is. Please don’t have waited until Christmas Eve to crush him even more.