Home for the Holidays: Mr Frosty Pants, Mr Naughty List

by Leta Blake

  His mother glared at him. “You sound like your father. He was the same.”

  Aaron took a shaky breath. “The same? How?”

  “He wanted me to love him even though he didn’t deserve it.”

  Aaron lurched to his feet, checked his pockets for his keys and phone, and started toward the door. His chest ached, his mouth was dry, and he thought he might throw up.

  But he didn’t stop walking until his hand was on the doorknob.

  “This again? Leaving as soon as I say something you don’t like?” She followed at his heels.

  “You’ve said things I don’t like my whole life. And I still love you. But I deserve to be loved too, Mom. Because I’m a good man and a human being. I deserve it. Do you understand? And so did dad. He deserved love too.”

  She pressed her fingers between her eyebrows and shook her head. “Look what you’ve done. Christmas is ruined. All you had to do was say you were sorry. Is that so hard?”

  Aaron released a bitter laugh. “All you had to do was love me! And I could ask the same.”

  She dashed her fingers through her hair. “Yes, Aaron! It’s hard! You’re making it very hard to love you!”

  “How?”

  “You’re too old for this teenage rebellion,” she said, taking a different tack instead of answering his question. She let out a long sigh. “I love you. Don’t be silly. Come back and sit down. Don’t spoil our lunch.”

  Aaron whispered, “You just said I made it hard to love me. I heard you.”

  “I was angry. I am angry.” Her smile was brittle, and she reached out for him. “But it’s Christmas. Let’s have our meal and talk about this later when we’ve calmed down. I need to get back in the kitchen. The corn might boil over.”

  “I need to leave.”

  “Aaron—”

  “No, Mom. I’m done with this conversation. I’m going.” He jerked open the apartment door. “And I will be tendering my resignation. So you should probably spend the rest of your winter break starting a hunt for a new teacher. Because I’m not interested in remaining at Pineview.”

  “What?” She gawked at him like he’d grown another head. “That’s absurd. How will you pay your bills? How will you live, Aaron?”

  “Now you care?”

  “I have always cared. I love you. I’m your mother.”

  “Don’t give me that now. I don’t owe you my plans.”

  “I’m your mother.”

  Aaron thought of Betsy and her evident and easy love for RJ, how she’d effortlessly accepted the situation with Carter, and the way she’d embraced Aaron too. He thought of his own father’s reaction to RJ when Aaron brought him to the farm the first time, and the holiday sweetness of the night before, spent in the loving embrace of his extended family. All of them so much more welcoming than his own mother.

  “You’re my mother? Act like it.”

  Aaron left then. He didn’t look back.

  When he reached the car his mother had texted him: What about the casserole dish?

  Keep it.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  RJ didn’t know what Helen Shock’s problem was, but he wouldn’t mind shaking the woman until she stopped being such a horrible person.

  “Is she religious? Is that it?” he asked, holding Aaron as the little spoon, his chest pressed to Aaron’s back, their bodies fitted together. Jeans against jeans, T-shirt to button-up cotton shirt. As close as they could be.

  Aaron shook his head.

  “What did your father see in her?” RJ was determined to solve the puzzle.

  Aaron shrugged. “I think she must have been different once? He said she grew more ambitious after their marriage, less satisfied. But we don’t usually talk about her. He moved on with his life without her.”

  “Maybe she’ll come around,” RJ said. “Not today, but someday.”

  Aaron shrugged. “I told her I was resigning.”

  RJ’s heart skipped. “Good thing you’ve already been looking for jobs.”

  Aaron snuggled back against him and said a little timidly, “I think I’m going to travel first. I have some savings. Nothing much, but enough that I could go to a few places. See a few things. You know, before I have to commit to some sort of career again.”

  The implication hung in the air between them. RJ wasn’t misreading it, was he? He decided he had nothing to lose by checking to see.

  “Have you ever thought about going to Finland in winter?” RJ whispered against Aaron’s hair. “The northern lights are stunning.”

  Aaron turned around in RJ’s arms so they were facing each other. His eyes still gleamed, but the active crying had stopped. “Is that where you’re heading?”

  “I don’t know actually. I haven’t given my agent the okay to book me on a new tour.” RJ touched the places Aaron’s dimples should be. “Would you like that? Would you want to come with me?”

  “Could I?” Aaron whispered it, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed.

  RJ’s heart soared. He’d never imagined, never thought… “Yeah, of course. We don’t always stay in nice places,” he babbled. “Hotels, I mean. It can be a little rough.”

  “I can do rough.”

  RJ chuckled. “Hell yeah, you can, Mr. Danvers.”

  Aaron gazed at him, studying him closely. “Seriously, you’d want me to go along? I wouldn’t be intruding?”

  “No. I mean, yes, and no you wouldn’t be intruding.”

  “This is impulsive.”

  RJ grinned and nuzzled Aaron’s nose. “Yup. It is.”

  Aaron’s face flushed, but this time with fervor instead of grief. “Yeah. It really is. It’s crazy.” But he didn’t sound like he was backing away from the idea. He sounded thrilled by the wildness. “And what about…” Suddenly he deflated and looked away. “But will you still want me if I quit teaching? You know, if I’m not Mr. Danvers anymore?”

  RJ tenderly took hold of Aaron’s chin. “You’ll always be my Mr. Danvers. You don’t have to teach a class of pubescent balls of hormones to be that. But would you be happy? You’re a great teacher. The best. Carter loves you, and the other kids must as well. Would you want to stop teaching?”

  “Right now? I want to burn it all down and start over.” He shuddered. “I just want to breathe.” Aaron frowned, the dimples that had almost made a new appearance vanishing entirely again. “Do you know why I became a teacher? Because my mom wanted me to, and I knew I’d be good at it.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “Yes. I suppose. I don’t hate it, but I don’t feel about teaching the way you do about music. I’ve seen you in Chip’s studio. The way your eyes light up, the way you come alive with the music. On the stage too. You radiate. I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you up there.” He paused before going on, “I still do. Every time.”

  “I know what that’s like,” RJ growled in his ear. “That ass of yours. Shaking. While you wrote on that damn smart board.”

  Aaron’s dimples blinked on. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t think it’s smart, or prudent, or well-considered, or any other mature thing. But I think it’s what I want to do. If you want it too. And if you don’t? I can travel on my own. I’ll hike through France, and kayak the Amazon—”

  “Oh, don’t do that. That seems a little extreme.” RJ laughed. “Besides, I want you with me. But what about Constance? She can’t travel with us.”

  Aaron frowned again. “I don’t know. Impulsivity has its complications.”

  “You don’t have to decide now.” RJ kissed Aaron’s nose. “We have some time.”

  A small knock came at the door. RJ stood up to answer it, glancing over his shoulder to see Aaron wiping at his red cheeks and trying to compose himself. Opening the door, RJ found his mom with a plate of cookies and two mugs of cocoa on a tray, and big, worried eyes. “I thought these might help?”

  His heart was so full of love for her that he almost cried too. Maybe things hadn’t been ideal between them for so
me time. But she’d never been the kind of mom Aaron had grown up with. RJ, even at his most neglected, had known she loved him.

  RJ took them from her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Tell him he’s welcome to stay. As long as he needs. We have another guest room we can make up for him. He’d need to sleep there, though. For Carter’s sake. You know I don’t care.”

  “I know, but I think I’ll go home with him in a bit.” There it was again. Thinking of Aaron’s apartment as “home.” “After dinner, maybe. If that’s okay?”

  “The kids will make a fuss.”

  “I know, but he needs me.”

  She tugged him down close. “And you love him?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked over RJ’s shoulder to where Aaron was still wiping at his eyes on the bed. She whispered, “He needs that.”

  “He does. And, Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you. For always loving me. I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole.”

  She shrugged but her eyes filled with tears. “You had good reasons to be resentful. I could have done a better job. I should have.” She cleared her throat and waved it off. “But—look, Aaron needs you now. I should shower and put on actual clothes.” She motioned toward her snowman pajamas. “We’ll talk more later. Doug wants to speak with you at some point today too? Before you leave, if that’s okay.”

  RJ’s stomach went sour at the thought, but he supposed it wasn’t too much to ask. He should completely clear the air with the man. Figure out what was holding him back from trusting Doug. Or, well, loving him, his mother would say.

  If Aaron could talk to his mother, then RJ could talk to his nice, supportive stepdad and work his shit out. Montmartre sunrise promises and all that.

  About thirty minutes before dinner was supposed to be served, RJ was sent out back to the grill and Doug with a plate of veggies. They fired up the gas and stood awkwardly beside each other for a few minutes before Doug said, “So. I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you came home for Christmas.”

  “Oh?” RJ had been half expecting Doug to give him grief about how little time he’d actually spent with his mom and siblings after he rediscovered Aaron.

  “Yes, it’s meant a lot to your mother. And your brother and sister. And even to Carter.” He used tongs to put the veggies on the grill and concentrated on them as he finished up his declaration. “It meant a lot to me.”

  RJ shrugged, unsure what to say. “Oh, um. You’re welcome.”

  Doug put the plate aside, lowering the gas so the flames died back a little. “I’m serious, RJ. I never got the chance to know you. I came along after you were gone, and you never came around. I thought you were…” He coughed. “I thought you were like your dad. But I was wrong.”

  RJ crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to feel defensive. But how could he deny it? He’d done to his mom what his father had done, hadn’t he? He’d abandoned her. Hadn’t looked back. Left her to fend for herself. Doug was the one who’d saved her.

  “I owe you a debt,” RJ said gruffly. “I let Mom down, but you—”

  “Your mother is proud of you. You didn’t let her down. Don’t worry about that.”

  “I left her behind.”

  “You’re the son, RJ. You’re supposed to leave. That’s what we raise our kids to do. If your dream had been accounting, then sure, you could have gotten work in Knoxville. But your dream was music. Your mother was only ever proud of you for following that with your whole heart, and for making it work.”

  RJ scrubbed at his leather jacket sleeves, shivering despite the heat of the gas grill. “Thanks. Still, I should have—”

  “No shoulds,” Doug said. “We could all should ourselves to death. I’m just grateful you came home, that we had this time, and that we know each other a little better now. I’m glad for all of it. Even the hard conversations that came up because of Carter’s crush. I should have come out to Betsy ages ago. I was worried she’d—” He shrugged. “She loves me. It didn’t matter.”

  “She does love you,” RJ said. “And you love her. I…admit it’s hard for me to believe that love can last. Even with Aaron…” He cleared his throat and tried to explain. “Even with him, when I feel so much for him already and can imagine our future so clearly, I’m afraid that if I believe in it, I’ll be wrong. And that will hurt too much to survive.” He said the last in a whisper.

  “Your father was a jackass. I’m sorry, but he was.”

  “I’m not sorry. It’s the truth.”

  “He left you not once, but twice. Now the fact that his leaving was for the best for—”

  “He hit her,” RJ said, darkness lapping at his heart. His fists clenched.

  Doug nodded, his hand clenching the tongs tightly. The scent of veggies rose around them and Doug removed them from the grill, covering them with aluminum foil to keep them warm. He turned off the grill.

  “You’re right that there are no guarantees in life. Maybe it won’t work out with Aaron, but maybe it will—”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” RJ said. “That’s what we’ve agreed. That we have to try. That we’ve got something special enough that we both know it already. So we should try.”

  “Exactly. That’s all you can do.” Doug clapped a hand on RJ’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming home.”

  “Thanks for giving my mom a home.”

  Doug hugged RJ with a few manly slaps, and they took the veggies inside and sat down to Christmas dinner. Beau and Perri clamored to sit beside RJ, and Aaron agreed to give up his seat to sit across from him. “The view’s better from here,” he said with a wink as he took the seat. His eyes weren’t red anymore and his smile looked genuine.

  “Is it?” Perri asked with a toss of her light hair. “I wanna see.”

  “You sit there,” Mom said. “He just wants to look at RJ.”

  Carter sat down next to Aaron and said, “Eh, it’s an okay view, I guess. I’ve seen better.” But his voice was all wonky, and he looked at RJ with those same eager eyes that he hadn’t been able to shake since he’d confessed to his crush.

  And everyone laughed. Even Carter. Happy family. Handsome lover.

  Merry Christmas.

  As Christmas Day waned, Aaron had enough fun with RJ’s family that he was able to forget from time to time that he’d lost his mother’s approval and love—assuming he’d ever really had it.

  When it was time to say goodbye to the Ward family, Aaron was grateful when RJ announced he was coming back to the apartment with him. If he’d had to leave on his own and go home alone, he knew the weight of all that had happened with his mom would have crushed him. At least RJ would distract and comfort him.

  RJ would make sure that he felt it was still Christmas.

  On the ride home, as RJ drove Aaron’s car, citing Aaron’s three glasses of wine over dinner as reason for commandeering the vehicle, Aaron’s phone dinged. He glanced down, for a heart-stopping moment hoping it was his mother, before remembering he’d blocked her calls.

  Hope it went well with Helen. I love you. Merry Christmas.

  “Lauren,” he offered when RJ tilted his head curiously. “She hopes it went well with my mother.”

  Aaron started to laugh. Shocked, hysterical, almost sobbing laughter, until it shifted once more to tears and he was sobbing. Actual hard, heaving sobs that sounded like his heart was breaking, and he couldn’t make them stop.

  RJ made soothing sounds from the driver’s side, but they were on the interstate now. There was no safe place to pull over, so Aaron knew comforting noises was the best RJ could do.

  All of it—even the old stuff like the divorce and the constant displeasure he’d faced growing up, plus the new stuff like the hiding, the hurting, the hating himself—welled up and out of him like a forced purging, and when he finally stopped, they’d been parked in the lot behind his apartment for God only knew how long. The lights were on in
the church, and the Christmas trees from all the downtown buildings and lofts sparkled in the darkness.

  “Here,” RJ said, stuffing a handful of napkins into Aaron’s hand. “Found them in your glove box.”

  Aaron nodded and rubbed the scratchy paper over his nose and eyes. It was overly warm in the car between his feverish crying and the heater, so he rolled down the window. The night was quiet, aside from the usual bursts of noise from the city and the hymns from within the church. The organ and the muffled but sonorous sounds of voices lifting and falling in welcome of a new baby.

  A new start.

  “Okay,” Aaron said at last, the cold night air rushing over him and stirring between them in the car. “That’s enough of that.”

  “I didn’t mind.”

  “I know.”

  They shared a smile, and Aaron wiped at his eyes with the papers again. “I don’t think I’ve ever cried like that in my life. Not that I remember. I guess I needed it.”

  RJ smiled sadly. “I’m sorry about your mom, Aaron.”

  “Birth is hard,” Aaron said. “Even if you’re just birthing yourself.”

  “Ah, there’s my English Comp teacher. Similes abound.”

  “Metaphor, actually.”

  “My bad.”

  Aaron smiled and the sound of the chorus within the old church rose with the entire congregation joining in. “I know you said that you wanted me to go with you on the next tour, whenever that is, but you don’t have to stick to that, RJ. If it turns out that we don’t work, or that you don’t—”

  “Mr. Danvers,” RJ said, his dominant voice breaking over Aaron’s hot skin like a rush of cold wind. “Stop. No doubts. No second-guessing. Just give in to this. Let it happen. You can’t struggle your way out of the pain you’re feeling or the confusing months ahead. You have to just give in and go with it. See how it turns out. We’ll deal with everything as it happens. Stop trying to control it.”