by Ashton Cade
I drive too fast to the church, and practically sprint through the snow to get to the parsonage. I knock too fast and too hard, heart hammering. I didn’t see any other cars, so I think I’ve made it on time.
When the door opens, it’s not Liam or Brandon standing on the other side, but a plump older lady with a reindeer sweater.
“Oh… Hi,” I say, looking around like I’ve got the wrong parsonage.
“Hi,” Liam says, pushing past the lady to give me a hug. “Phineas, this is my mom, Meryl. Mom, my friend, Phineas.”
Meryl’s lips spread into a sly smile. “Nice to meet you, Phineas,” she says, offering her hand to me. I shake it slowly, not sure what I’ve just gotten myself into.
I didn’t know Liam’s mom lived with him. Seems like a thing he’d have mentioned before now.
“You too,” I mumble, returning the handshake.
“Come in, come in, we’re just whipping up a batch of cookies,” she says. “I’ve got the best helper in the whole world here.”
I arch my brow at Liam and he gives me a sheepish shrug.
“They’re getting on like gangbusters,” he says, a bittersweet hint to his tone.
I get it. It’s sad to get close to the kid when it’s unlikely he’ll be around for long.
A knock on the door makes us both jump, and Liam looks over at me, his face as pale as a sheet of paper.
“Here goes nothing,” he mumbles.
I reach for his hand and give it a firm squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” I promise him. “You’re doing the right thing.”
He makes a face, then shakes his head. “I really hope you’re right.” And then he opens the door, letting in a burst of cold air from outside.
On the other side of the door there’s a middle-aged man in a poorly-fitted suit. He’s holding an accordion-style briefcase in one gloved hand, his other shoved deep into a coat pocket. The man looks at Liam, then at me.
“Good afternoon, which one of you is Mr. Kendrick?”
“That’s me. Please, call me Liam. Come in,” Liam says, gesturing.
“Lonny,” the other guy says. “We spoke on the phone earlier.”
Liam nods. “I didn’t realize you’d be coming out yourself,” he says, and Lonny nods, tugging at the front of his suit jacket.
“Bit short-staffed, lots happening this time of year.”
“Of course,” Liam says, as if he understands. I don’t know why social services would be any more busy during the holidays than other times of the year, but who am I to question the man?
“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Cocoa?” Liam offers. Lonny shakes his head stiffly.
“No, thank you. Where’s Brandon?”
“Making cookies with my mom,” Liam answers, looking toward the kitchen.
I feel awkward being here. Lonny hasn’t really acknowledged me, and I don’t feel like I should just insert myself into the conversation. I don’t want to step on Liam’s toes; I already did enough of that last night.
Lonny gingerly sits on the edge of the couch, placing his briefcase on the floor, leaning against his leg. “That’s a lovely tree,” he remarks.
I didn’t even notice it, but he’s right. That tree wasn’t decorated last night, and today it looks fit for a window display.
“Brandon helped decorate it this morning,” Liam says. He’s not sitting down, and he looks fidgety. Nervous. I’m not used to seeing him like this and I wish I knew how to help him calm down. “You’re not taking him back to his parents are you?”
Lonny’s expression is pretty grim. “I’m afraid not. Mr. and Mrs. Malloy have made it clear that they will refuse to accept parental responsibility for Brandon. I’ve made them aware of the legal ramifications of abandonment, but they say they’re exercising their religious freedom—they’re going to make a judge decide if that argument holds any water.”
“What does that mean for Brandon? He doesn’t want to go back to them anyway. Can he stay here?”
Lonny makes a face, shuffling in his seat. “At this point we would place Brandon with a temporary home until his case is resolved.”
“Okay, can that home be here? I’m willing to foster him,” Liam says, eagerness barely contained. He’s like a kid trying to figure out how to keep his new pet, only the stakes are much higher and Brandon’s not a puppy. He’s a sweet boy who’s been screwed over by everyone he’s ever counted on.
“Mr. Kendrick, I don’t know if you understand what that entails—”
“With all due respect, Mr. Parkins, I do. I was a youth pastor for five years before I moved to Snow Lake. I’ve been nominated for a Justice Leadership award through my church twice for my work with youth, and I’m well-equipped to take care of him. I have a well-paying job that comes with a house, and he’s already fitting in so well here…”
Lonny hesitates for a long moment before expelling a heavy sigh. “What does Brandon think about this?”
Liam shuffles. “I haven’t talked to him about it yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up for something that might not happen.”
Lonny nods. “Let’s talk to him.”
Liam heads to the kitchen to get Brandon, and it’s just me and Lonny in the living room, the tree twinkling.
“There isn’t a better place for him in the whole world,” I say. “Liam has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. He’d never do anything to hurt that kid.”
Lonny says nothing, and I worry I may have done the opposite of what I was trying to do. I want to help make Liam’s case, but maybe my input is laying it on too thick. If I screw this up for Liam, I’ll never forgive myself.
I didn’t know he was going to ask to foster Brandon, but I can’t say I’m surprised at all. After everything the kid’s been through, there’s no way Liam could let him go without a fight. That big heart of his is one of the things I... love so much.
“Brandon, this is Mr. Parkins from Social Services,” Liam says, ushering Brandon into the room. He looks like he’s had a shower since I last saw him. He’s back in his clothes, still threadbare but clean now, and a zipper hoodie of Liam’s that’s too big for him.
“How are you doing, Brandon?” Lonny asks.
Brandon shrugs, hands going into his hoodie pockets. “Okay I guess.”
Lonny nods. “That’s good. You know it’s not safe for you to sleep on the streets.”
Brandon shrugs again. “Yeah, I know.”
Liam rests a hand on his shoulder. “He did the best he could.”
“Your parents said you ran away,” Lonny says, kind of offhand about it.
Brandon’s eyes get big, his gaunt cheeks flushing. “I didn’t. They told me to leave.”
Lonny nods again. “You know, part of my job is determining if I think you’re going to run away again—”
“You’re taking me back?” Brandon asks, looking up at Liam, panic shining in his eyes.
“No, he’s not,” Liam says quickly, pulling the boy closer, arm fully around his shoulders now.
“No, I’m not,” Lonny agrees. “But if you’re likely to run away, that changes where I can place you,” he explains.
“I didn’t run away,” Brandon insists.
“So if you were to stay here, would you try to leave?”
Brandon scowls. “Why would I do that? It’s great here.”
I spot the sparkle in Liam’s eyes, my heart melting for him.
“So would you like to stay here? Because Liam has offered—”
“Really?” Brandon asks, whipping around to face Liam. “You mean it?”
“Of course,” Liam says, smiling down at him.
“I’m gonna tell Gramma Meryl!” he says, running back into the kitchen.
“Gramma Meryl?” I ask, barely holding back a laugh.
Liam shakes his head. “Mom works fast, I guess. So what do we do now?” he asks Lonny.
Lonny picks up his briefcase before standing, the fit of his suit making him look like his posture is
worse than it is. “Normally you’d need a lot more inspections and paperwork to make this happen,” he says, sounding tired. “With everything Brandon has been through and your position in the community, I don’t have any qualms about approving you for the moment. Of course it’s conditional on a background check and verification of everything you’ve told me, all that, but for now… Enjoy your holiday, Mr. Kendrick. You’re doing a wonderful thing here.”
“Thank you so much!” Liam exclaims, looking like he very much wants to hug Lonny. “You have a Merry Christmas.”
“You too,” Lonny says, nodding before he heads toward the door. The moment it’s closed, Liam’s wrapping me in a big hug.
“I can’t believe it!” he says, practically gushing. This time yesterday, he didn’t even know Brandon existed, and now this kid being able to stay with him is the thing he wants most in the world. I have to admire that kind of compassion, that selflessness.
“I can. You’re amazing,” I say, squeezing his hand.
“Thank you for being here. I needed the moral support,” he says, squeezing my hand back.
“I don’t think you did,” I tease him. “I didn’t know you had all those awards—”
“They were nominations,” he corrects. “It sounds a lot more impressive than it is, but that’s all I needed. Are you coming to rehearsal tonight?”
“I’ve still got a backdrop to paint, so I imagine so,” I say, grinning. All the worry that was so heavy just a few minutes ago is gone, and it’s left me feeling extra-light. Silly.
“Hopefully I can convince Brandon to come along. I bet we could find a role for him if he wanted.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to,” I tell him. It’s the kind of thing that’s always sounded like an empty platitude with others, but with Liam, I really believe it. He’s amazing and determined, driven to do the right thing like I’ve never seen before, and I don’t think he’d let anything stand in his way of accomplishing what he wants. He’s just not the type.
“You’re sweet,” Liam says, leaning in for a quick kiss. My heart flutters. I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of being sweet before.
True to form, Liam does manage to convince Brandon to come with us to rehearsal. Brandon’s clearly not sure about participating in the play, but Liam assures him I could still use help with the set.
It’s the first dress rehearsal, so for about an hour, Liam’s pulling out old costumes; shaking out dust and mothballs and passing them off to their actors; helping the kids into the costumes; and dealing with tiny crises left and right.
One of the angels is upset that her halo is silver and everyone else’s is gold. Another has a broken wing.
“I thought you said camel wasn’t a part!” says one of the kids, pulling a shaggy brown lump out of the costume box.
“It’s not,” Liam insists.
“Then why’s there a costume?” the kid retorts. Got ’im.
“Well, it’s too late to add a camel. Everyone already has their parts… Unless… Brandon? You’d make a good tall camel. No lines,” he adds, hoping to entice him.
Brandon makes a face, but I can see the debate happening in his head. I’m pretty sure I know exactly what the argument is. It’s so hard to say no to Liam.
“Okay,” Brandon finally shrugs.
“Great! Just put this on over your clothes,” he says, handing off the costume.
“Pastor Liam?” comes a little girl’s voice.
“Yes, Ally?” he asks, turning and bending slightly.
“I don’t like my costume,” she says.
He frowns. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Do I have to wear this?” she asks, holding up a scraggly gray blob of hair.
“All the wise men have beards,” Liam says, nodding.
Ally frowns. “It itches.”
“If I can find you one that doesn’t itch, will you wear it?”
Ally thinks on it, then nods.
“Okay, don’t worry about the beard today.”
All this, and they’re just getting into the costumes. They haven’t even started rehearsal yet.
The man’s a saint.
All through the rehearsal, I can tell Liam is giving special attention to Brandon without trying to make it seem obvious. Brandon doesn’t know the play, so Liam’s having to coach him where to stand at each scene, and it’s so cute to watch the two of them together, to see Liam make a comment that gets a laugh out of Brandon, or for Brandon to ask a hesitant question, only to be given reassurance.
Now that they both know there’s a little permanence to the situation, they’re opening up more, growing together. It’s enough to make my heart nearly burst.
After rehearsal, Liam sets the kids to the task of carefully putting their costumes away. Brandon is approached by some of the others, standing at least a foot taller than any of them. He’s definitely one of the oldest in the group, and that, coupled with his relationship with Pastor Liam, makes him an instant hit with the others. They’re all talking and joking together in no time.
“You’re a natural, you know,” I say, sidling up to Liam while he’s organizing props.
He shrugs. “Just practice.”
“I mean with Brandon. It’s like you’ve been doing this Dad thing your whole life.”
He shrugs again. “I’m just doing what I think is right. What I’d want done for me… What my parents did do for me. I got lucky and it’s time to pay it forward.”
“Amazing and humble,” I joke, nudging him.
He just smiles. “Do you want to come to dinner at my place? Mom’s making lasagna so there’ll be plenty for everyone.”
“You sure? Your mom won’t mind?”
Liam snorts. “Please. She’s been trying to get me to find a nice boy for fifteen years. She’ll be thrilled.”
I smile. I haven’t gotten to know his mom at all, but from the sounds of it, I think I might like her. “Count me in.”
Once all the kids have been collected and the church has been locked up, Brandon, Liam, and I make our way back to the parsonage. Brandon’s leading the way, Liam and me right behind him, hand in hand. I really like this. I like how natural and effortless it feels. I really like him, and I want more, don’t get me wrong, but I’m in no hurry. I like getting to know him and his life. I can get to know his body some other time.
“Moooom, we’re home,” Liam calls when he opens the door. “I brought company!”
“You did what?” Meryl asks, popping out of the kitchen. “Oh! Hello again,” she says, smiling at me. I was afraid for a moment that she was upset that Liam brought someone back without warning, but it seems more surprise than anything.
“Good to see you again,” I answer with a nod, following Liam’s suit in taking off my coat and boots. He frowns at the coat Brandon leaves on the hook, another one of his probably.
“We’re going to have to take you shopping for some clothes,” he says absently, shaking his head.
“You all have perfect timing,” Meryl says from the kitchen. “It’s all coming out of the oven right now.”
“Sounds like you’re the one with good timing to me,” I say, following the others to the table. Liam fills a pitcher with ice water and sets it down in the middle where everyone can reach. Meanwhile his mom is trying to wrangle a spot for the salad in between the garlic bread and piping-hot lasagna.
“This looks amazing, Mrs. Kendrick,” I say, taking a deep breath of the rich, herby steam.
“Call me Meryl, honey.”
“Gramma Meryl, are you coming to the play?” Brandon asks, inhaling a piece of garlic bread. I think we’re all tempted to tell him to slow down, but no one’s got the heart when he’s so darn skinny.
“Of course I am. Are you going to sit with me and keep me company?”
“I will,” I offer. “Brandon’s going to be in the play.”
Meryl’s eyes go wide. “Is that right?”
Brandon smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I’
m gonna be a camel!” he says happily. Guess he’s over his fears of the stage, or he’s just that happy to be a part of something.
“That’s wonderful, honey. I’m sure you’ll be the best camel that church has ever seen.”
Brandon grins. “I don’t actually do anything, just stand there.”
“Some of the most important people in history did nothing more than stay in place,” Meryl says, sounding wise. I don’t know if I agree with the sentiment, but Brandon takes it, beaming as he dives into his lasagna.
“So, Phineas, are you a member of the congregation?” Meryl asks, eyes sharp while she’s fishing for information.
“Mom, I told you he’s a friend from the food drive.”
“He can’t be two things?” she challenges. “Besides, I think he’s a bit more than a friend if you’re bringing him home to dinner with your family,” she says, making heat burn up the back of my neck, turning my ears bright red I’m sure. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. We haven’t really done anything. We aren’t really dating. We haven’t talked about labels or anything like that—it hasn’t seemed necessary. But Meryl calling us out like that is hard to ignore.
I clear my throat. “Uh… No, I’m not really much of a churchgoer, to be honest.”
“Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that, hmm?” she says, smiling sweetly. “You might change your mind after one of Liam’s services. He’s so talented—”
“Mom,” Liam grumbles.
“I’m sure you’re right. I can’t wait for Christmas Eve,” I agree, grinning at Liam, who’s fighting his own flush of embarrassment. His is way cuter though.
“Bite your tongue!” Meryl laughs. “There’s still too much to do and not nearly enough time! We’ve got to get this house fully decked out before Mr. Claus makes his appearance.”
Brandon snorts. “I’m not a kid. I know Santa’s not real.”
“Not with that attitude, he’s not!” Meryl cries. “Phineas, back me up here.”
“Me? Why not Liam?”
She scoffs. “He’s less convincing. He’s my son.”
“She’s right,” Brandon deadpans.
“I think Santa’s one of those things that’s as real as you make it. It’s about believing in the goodwill of mankind and the Christmas spirit and all that stuff.”