Strange. Slightly fluttery. Uncomfortable.
“We should probably head back. I have to work the dinner shift.” I wished it could just be the two of us for the rest of the day.
“I should probably fold some more napkins to pay for my stay and the car repairs.”
“You really don’t have to do that.”
I waved her off. I wasn’t going to argue about that again.
I HEADED TO THE LAUNDRY room when we got back and Laura went to find her mother. Michelle looked in on me on the pretense that she was restocking the linen closet.
“Did you have fun with Laura?” she asked as she played with one of the unfolded napkins.
“Yeah, she showed me the high school and we had lunch.” She was totally fishing and being pretty obvious about it.
“Oh,” she said, her face falling. She looked disappointed. I wasn’t going to say anything outright, not unless she asked me out. Then I’d have to break it to her. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Are you going to play Christmas Charades?” I asked her, since that seemed to be the question of the day.
“Absolutely, I play every year. I hope you’re on my team.” Her voice got a little breathless and then Laina came back and asked her to head to the front desk because someone was checking in.
“Thanks for all your help,” she said, picking up a stack of the freshly folded napkins. I was getting pretty good at it. Maybe this could be a whole new career for me? A side hustle at least.
“You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do.” She gave me a strange look that I couldn’t interpret. As if she was really seeing me.
“I’m glad you’re here, Colden. And I really hope you stay through Christmas.” She took the napkins and left before I could say anything else. No idea what that was about. I went back to folding.
CHRISTMAS CHARADES was . . . an experience. I didn’t end up up on Laura’s team but I did get Dan, Sue, Lillian, Greta, and Antonio and a few of the other relatives on mine. It was a pretty good team, and we were in it to win it.
“Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer!” Sue screamed out.
“Yes!” Dan yelled, and we all clapped. He’d been doing this strange animal-like pantomime and I hadn’t been anywhere near a guess. Now it was Laura’s turn. My team had to remain silent while hers guessed, which was torture if you knew the answer and couldn’t do anything about it.
Laura held up one finger.
“First word!” her team yelled out.
She held her hands apart and then pulled them in close. When that didn’t get any good guesses, she held up her thumb and forefinger, leaving only a small space between them.
Little, I thought. Little drummer boy. I bet that was it.
Her team was not getting it, so she went to the second word, and pretended to rip a great drum solo. That did it.
Then it was my turn.
I read the card. It’s A Wonderful Life. Fucking great. How was I supposed to do that? I had a few seconds of panic thinking before I came up with an idea that I hoped would work.
I stood up in front of the group and held up a hand and pretended to shake it, as if I was ringing a bell, then flapped my arms as if they were wings. I was met with blank stares for a minute, and then I got a ton of off-the-wall guesses. At one point, I glanced at Laura and saw her mouthing “It’s A Wonderful Life.” She got it.
“Oh, it’s the movie with Gregory Peck! And he’s dead but not! Donna Reed’s in it too,” Dan said.
“No, it’s not Gregory Peck, it’s Jimmy Stewart,” Lillian said. “Get your actors right.”
The clock was ticking down and this was ridiculous.
“It’s A Wonderful Life!” Sue finally yelled.
“Yes!” I said. There had only been seconds to spare.
In the end, we did lose, and I could tell Laura was going to gloat about it for a long time.
“So sorry that you weren’t good enough,” she said, as we hung out in the dining room. There were still a few people hanging out and having tea or coffee and there was a warm feeling that settled in my chest. Laura had her feet propped up on a chair and I had my legs crossed on mine. Guess there really was something to that myth that gays couldn’t sit in chairs properly.
“Whatever. It’s cute that you care so much. Guess you come by your competitiveness honestly.” It also seemed to be genetic. I’d never seen adults get so up in arms about a game of charades before. There was no blood, but it was close.
“I do. It’s in the Sterling blood.” She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back in the chair.
“Are you going to stay?”
“I mean, I might as well. I still feel like a mooch, but I don’t know. Going back to my apartment alone would be weird now.” There was a ding on my phone and I looked down to find a new email.
“Fucking finally.” My refund for the imaginary cottage had come through. I immediately transferred some to pay my credit card bills.
“What’s up?” Laura asked.
“Got my money back from the rental service for the cottage that wasn’t. That’s a relief.” Huge relief. I almost wanted to get up and do a little dance.
“We should have a drink to celebrate,” Laura said, popping to her feet.
“Okay?” I said. I wondered if it was more of that eggnog. Man, that had been intense.
Laura came back a few minutes later with two mugs of liquid.
“Mulled wine. It’s the best when it’s warmed up.” She handed the cup to me and I inhaled the scents of cinnamon and cloves and other warm, spicy things.
I sipped and sighed in relief. This was exactly what I’d needed.
“Do you take requests?” I asked, nodding at the piano.
“For you I could,” she said, and we both walked over to the piano. She sat down and I hesitated for a moment before sitting on the bench beside her.
“Do you have enough room?” I asked. She tended to get so physical with her playing that I didn’t know if she was going to knock me out if she got really into it.
“No, you’re fine,” she said, her voice soft. “What would you like?”
I couldn’t stop staring at her mouth, which was slightly red from the wine. Had I ever noticed her lips before? They really were perfectly shaped. I’d heard the phrase “Cupid’s bow” before, but I’d never known what it meant until now.
“Huh?” I said, remembering that she’d just asked me something.
“What song would you like?” she said, clearing her throat a little and putting her fingers on the keys.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know.”
“What’s your favorite Christmas song?” she asked, and I had to tear my gaze away from her lips.
“I’ll Be Home For Christmas,” I said. “I know it’s supposed to be heartwarming, but the origin story is really sad. I don’t know. It makes me feel happy and sad at the same time.”
“I get that,” Laura said, playing a little riff before starting in on the song. Incredible how she could just . . . play. I was completely in awe of her.
As I sat and listened to her play, the melody and melancholy wistfulness of the song wrapped around me and tears came to my eyes. How embarrassing. I tried to wipe them away, but Laura didn’t seem to notice.
When she finished, she opened her eyes and looked at me.
“Are you okay?” I was still trying to stop crying and losing.
“Yeah, I'm fine.” I sniffed and wished every piano came with a box of tissues.
“It’s okay,” she said, using her sleeve to wipe my cheeks. I wanted to tell her to stop, but I didn’t.
Laura held her hand to my face and then there was a crash in the dining room that made us jump apart as if we’d been caught doing something illicit.
“I should go see what that was.” She got up and stumbled a little before going to check on what hijinks her family was up to. I sat glued to the bench, unable to move.
“I should go to bed,” I said aloud to no one. Laura hadn�
��t come back from the dining room and I peeked my head in and saw her sitting with Lillian and laughing about something while Minnie lay asleep at their feet. Seemed like a good time to make my exit.
I went upstairs to my room and closed the door with a sigh. I wished I hadn’t left the rest of my wine downstairs, but I wasn’t going back to get it.
Giving up on that, I put on a robe and grabbed one of my books to pass the time until sleep. A soft knock at the door startled me.
It was Laura.
“You left this downstairs, and I topped it off.” She held the mug out to me. Steam from the warm wine curled into the air.
“Thank you,” I said. More words were needed, but I didn’t know how to choose the right ones.
“Goodnight?” Laura said. It sounded like a question.
“Goodnight,” I said, making a definitive statement. My insides were all twisted and tangled and I needed to sit with the wine and a book and come back to myself.
“Bye,” she said, as if disappointed.
“Bye,” I said, slowly closing the door. The click of the lock was loud in my ears.
Seven
My time at The Sterling Inn had taken on a strange rhythm. I slept soundly and had breakfast, usually with Lillian and Minnie and several other members of the family. I hung out with them, sometimes talking, sometimes reading, sometimes watching movies that were projected on a screen in the dining room. Afternoons were for getting coffee and walking outside or driving to town and visiting the tiny shops that sold everything from stuffed lobsters to tacky bumper stickers to Maine maple candy.
Evenings were for dinner and then the ridiculous group activities. Later, I’d hang with Laura as she played the piano, or we’d just talk. I’d go up to bed early and read with a cup of tea.
Things with Laura were . . . weird. Really weird. I kept catching her looking at me and then she’d look away and I swear she was blushing. I got used to seeing her in the waitress outfit with her glasses on after her eyes got too dry from wearing contacts. I got used to her laughing with her cousins and teasing her dad and goofing with her great-grandmother. I even got used to seeing a giant pig running around.
I made the decision before I told them that I was going to stay. In fact, every time I got up the courage to say it, I backed off and couldn’t say the words. So I just hung around. No one asked me if I was going to leave. They just kept including me as if I was one of them.
One night I was reading late because my book was gay and good, when I heard a ruckus in the hallway. At first I thought that Minnie had gotten loose again, so I ignored it. Minnie was one smart pig and she managed to get through doors more than once already. Nothing unusual.
Then I heard more voices and there was a loud knock at the door. I put on my robe and went to see what was happening and found a breathless Michelle.
“Hey, were you sleeping?”
I shook my head.
“Sorry, but there’s been a fire at a home up the road and the family needs somewhere to stay. They had a ton of relatives staying with them, so there’s more than a dozen people. Laina is putting them up here. Would you be okay staying at the main house?” I couldn’t process what was happening and before I could say anything, there was Laina.
“Oh, Colden, I’m glad I caught you. Would you mind bunking with Laura for the night? We just have this poor family and they have a new baby and two other kids and they need the suite.” So many things were happening so fast.
I blinked a few times and then since everyone seemed to be waiting for me to answer, so I said, “yeah, sure” before I could process what I was agreeing to.
Less than an hour later, me and one of my suitcases were walking the path between the inn and the house next door. I wasn’t sure if I should knock, but the door swung open before I could raise my hand.
Laura.
“Hey, uh, I guess we’re sharing a room?” Laura nodded, her mouth pressed into a hard line.
“Come on in.” I tried not to feel like an intruder, but I did.
“Listen, I can, um, go sleep on the couch or something.” The house was big and beautifully decorated, except where the inn was more dark wood and warm tones, this place was light and airy, but still cozy.
“No, you can stay in my room. I have a big bed.” I swallowed hard. This evening had taken quite a turn.
“No, it’s fine, I’ll stay on the couch.” There was no way I was going to sleep in her bed tonight. No way.
“Suit yourself,” she said.
Laura gave me a tour of the house, which had four large bedrooms, but all of them were occupied, except for Laura’s. Well, it was occupied by her.
“There’s no room for me at the inn,” I said, pouting. Laura laughed at my joke.
“I swear, if a little boy with a drum, and three wise dudes show up, I’m going to freak out,” she said.
“I’m pretty sure I'm not the second coming. But you never know.” It was too early for me to go to bed, and Laura didn’t seem inclined that way either.
“You want to watch a movie or something?” she asked, and I figured I didn’t have anything else to do.
“Sure.”
“Have you ever seen White Christmas?”
I hadn’t.
“Okay, that’s what we’re watching. I watch this movie all the time when I feel sad. No matter what time of year it is.” A comfort movie. I had many, along with comfort books. It wasn’t lost on me that this was a special thing for Laura to share with me. I appreciated it.
“Snacks?” she asked.
“Always,” I said. “Do you need any help?”
“No, I can handle it.” The kitchen and the living room were open to each other, so I could see her getting things from the fridge and arranging items on what looked like a wooden board. How fancy.
“Are you making charcuterie?” I yelled, leaning over the back of the couch. It was more interesting to watch her than anything on the TV.
“Maybe,” she said, smiling at me.
“Can I watch?” I asked.
“You want to watch?” I hopped over the back of the couch and walked into the kitchen.
“Oh, wow,” I said when I saw what she’d done. This wasn’t a cheese and cracker plate. No, she had olives and prosciutto and several kinds of cheeses and fancy nuts and strawberries.
“Can I take a picture of it?” I asked, and she gave me a look as if I was being ridiculous. “It’s beautiful. Do you ever do anything halfway? I feel like everything you do is perfect.” That was kind of an understatement.
“I’m not perfect, Colden,” she said. There it was again. The way she said my name. Laura kept her eyes on the charcuterie plate, arranging things and moving them around, even though it was basically done.
“Can we eat it now?” I asked, and she glanced up.
“Okay,” she said. I made sure to take a picture with my phone before she brought it over to the coffee table, grabbed a few seltzer waters, and then put the movie on.
I went for the snacks immediately.
“Try the truffle goat cheese on that cracker,” Laura said, pointing to one of the cheeses. This was fancier cheese than I’d eaten in a long time. It was nothing but high class at Chez Sterling.
I cut some of the crumbly cheese and put it on one of the crackers before popping the whole thing in my mouth.
“Oh my god,” I said, my eyes almost rolling back in my head. The cheese was rich and had ribbons of black truffle running through it, giving it a delicious earthy taste that was just unbelievable.
“I want to eat this every single day for the rest of my life,” I said.
“It’s from a local farm, actually. We can go there while you’re here if you want. You can pet the goats and everything.” That was something I definitely had to do before going back to the city.
I settled back on the couch with my snack and Laura pulled a soft woven blanket off the arm of a nearby chair.
“Blanket? We always watch movies with blankets,
so I can’t relax and watch one without being covered up, even in the summer.” I agreed and she spread the blanket over both of us. I’d inadvertently sat in the middle of the couch, instead of on the other end away from her. I’d wanted to be close to the snacks, but it turned out I was close to Laura. It worked for blanket sharing, but it was awkward for just about everything else.
Her hand brushed mine as she reached for her seltzer water, and I had to be careful my leg didn’t touch hers when I moved it.
“Dear god, her waist is small,” I said about one of the two female actresses staring in the movie.
“Yeah, she had an eating disorder. Really sad. She made them let her cover her neck the whole movie because she was dealing with premature aging. Pretty tragic.” Not the kind of thing you wanted to be thinking about during a heartwarming film, but Hollywood had been a brutal place.
I hadn’t watched an old-school musical in a long time, and it gave me the same feeling as mulled wine did.
“I don’t normally watch Christmas movies,” I confessed. “They just make me sad and bitter usually, but this one isn’t bad.” It was less about the holiday and more about the people and the singing and dancing.
Laura sighed next to me, but it was a contented sigh. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She had a slight smile on her face as she watched the movie.
She really was beautiful. I mean, I always knew that, but it was different somehow. Her beauty was less cold now. Less “model in a magazine” and more “woman you passed on the street that was so pretty your knees buckled.”
I had to stop staring at her, but it was mesmerizing, watching the light from the TV dance across her face. I sipped my seltzer and choked.
“Are you okay?”
I wheezed and she patted me on the back.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I’d almost died from choking on seltzer water because I’d been too busy staring at her to pay attention to drinking. What a pathetic way to die that would have been.
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