Faux Ho Ho

by Nathan Burgoine

  Silas caught it with one hand on reflex, before he even realized what it was.

  “Dude,” Felix said, laughing too hard to get any other words out.

  “That’s pretty,” Melody said. “I like pink.”

  “Me too,” Silas managed, wishing he’d brought any sort of bag he could stuff the jockstrap into. Instead, he held it up, waving it at Dino, who waved right back, a giant grin on his face.

  Another song started, and the float moved forward.

  “All I got was a lousy rainbow bracelet,” Felix said, bumping shoulders with Silas and raising his wrist to show off the Body Positive wristband. “Trade you?”

  “Are you kidding?” Silas crossed his arms. “Since when were you classy enough for underwear?”

  Felix laughed as loud as the others, and Silas grinned. Ru even gave him a high five.

  “When did you get so snarky?” Ru said. “I love it.”

  Silas waited till they were all watching the next float to awkwardly stuff the jockstrap into his pocket. He really should have brought a bag.

  Chapter Twelve—December

  After nine months of living together, Silas thought he knew pretty much everything he’d need to know about Dino. But no.

  Dino Papadimitriou was an unstoppable blanket thief.

  It wasn’t a big deal, really. Silas ran hot and slept with at least one leg out from under the blankets. He remembered discussing theories of couples with Felix, which included “freezer and furnace.” In every couple, Felix declared, one slept cold at night, the other hot.

  “I’m a furnace,” Silas said at the time.

  “Then you need to find yourself a freezer.”

  Silas eyed Dino’s tousled hair, the only part of him visible, since he’d not only taken most of the blankets but burrowed under nearly completely. Just my luck. I find myself a freezer, and we’re just pretending.

  Silas turned his head on the pillow. They had half an hour before they needed to get up, so he settled back and closed his eyes, surprisingly content. Thoroughly well-rested, he’d slept in longer than he thought he would, given the time change.

  The bed shifted, and when he opened his eyes again, Dino looked back at him, now uncovered.

  “Good morning,” Silas said.

  “Time to get up?” Dino said, in his rumbly not-quite-awake voice.

  “We’ve got half an hour still. Coffee? It won’t be Bittersweets, but it’ll still be coffee.”

  Dino’s slow lazy smile left Silas unprepared for his sudden grab from under the blanket. Dino pulled Silas up against him and squeezed him. “Best boyfriend ever. The pinnacle. The tops. The…” He made a few grunting noises. “Out of words. Need coffee. Coffee makes words go.”

  Silas, sort of crunched up against him, inhaled a breath of soap and something like vanilla before realizing he had face pressed into Dino’s bare chest and was smelling him, which definitely counted as weird. Not that he had any choice. Dino had him pinned him there and—brutal truth moment—no one had ever held him like this, which was…something.

  Specifically, it was something he didn’t want to dwell on, because he had a sneaking suspicion it would be depressing.

  He squirmed free. “Coffee it is. Adjective shortage is serious business.”

  Dino let him go and rolled on his back. Silas got out of bed and went to the kitchenette to get the coffee maker going. A few minutes later, he was back with two white mugs. Dino was propped up against the headboard, smiling. The blankets were in his lap, hiding the boxers Silas had been so very relieved to see last night, but the rest of the big guy was on full display, right down to the light cover of fine dark hairs across his chest and stomach.

  Silas looked out the window, swallowing. “It’s snowing.”

  “Come back to bed.” Dino took one mug, then patted the bed beside him.

  “Oh, okay,” Silas said, getting back in.

  They drank for a few moments in silence.

  “Awesome. Magnificent. Selfless. Considerate,” Dino said.

  “Your adjectives are back.”

  Dino took another sip. “This is great, by the way.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Silas said, eying his mug.

  “Not the coffee,” Dino said, putting one arm around Silas. “The trip. Last night. Your sister and Craig. They’re great.”

  “True. Though you haven’t spent much time with my parents or my brothers yet.”

  Dino laughed. “Fair enough. Manny is punchable, as previously discussed. But I think I can handle them.”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  Dino eyed him, tipping back the last of his coffee. Beside them, the alarm clock clicked on and some country and western song started to play. Dino grimaced and reached past him to turn it off.

  Silas caught soap and vanilla again and buried his face in his coffee mug, even though it was empty.

  “I guess it’s time to get up,” Dino said.

  “I wonder if it’s too late to fake appendicitis. Or I could just pretend to die.”

  “Come on, Little Man,” Dino got out of bed, stretching his arms over his head until his wide shoulders popped. “We got this. You hang with the ladies, I’ll go with the gents. Wait. It won’t be strip clubs, right?”

  Silas laughed at the thought of Manny’s wife allowing Manny to go on that sort of bachelor night. Or morning. Whatever. “No strippers, that’s for sure.” He got out of bed, and went to the bathroom. They brushed their teeth, meeting each other’s gaze in the mirror, and Dino grinned at him.

  “This might be fun,” he said, around a mouth full of toothpaste foam.

  “It could be.” Silas spat into the sink.

  A whole morning with his mother and his brother’s wives?

  Elisha and Anne or no, this was going to suck.

  * * *

  In the lobby, Silas saw Charlotte standing with Anne near the front desk. Anne had a bright fuchsia rollator-style walker with flames painted on the frame above the wheels. No sight of Elisha, but Manny and someone he didn’t know—Craig’s brother Geoff, maybe?—were by the front doors. Manny’s head was down, and he was frowning at his phone. At least the other guy waved at Dino as soon as he saw them. Definitely Craig’s brother.

  “Have fun,” Dino said.

  “Not likely,” Silas said, sotto voce.

  Dino leaned in close. “Manny is watching,” he said, then closed the last bit of distance for a kiss. Dino kept it pretty chaste as kisses went, a well-faked “see you later” kiss, but Silas leaned up into it. Warm, gentle, and just a bit ticklish with Dino’s beard, it began and ended between breaths. Silas hurried to join the two women at the desk without even glancing back.

  His stomach fluttered. Public kisses in Alberta, swanky chalet or no, were bound to rattle his nerves, he supposed.

  “Oh. Silas,” Charlotte said, as though she hadn’t been looking at him the entire time. She tried a welcoming smile, but it didn’t land well. She held a bright pink clipboard in a death grip, pressed to her chest.

  “You forgot to CC him on the email,” Anne said. “But Elisha looped him in. He’s a bridesmaid.”

  “Hey, you,” Silas said, grinning at her.

  Anne held out her hands and Silas cupped them in his, making sure not to squeeze too hard. She had her brown hair tied back, and unless he was mistaken, the fuchsia mock-neck she wore intentionally matched her rollator. He remembered one episode of Nothing Without Anne where she railed against the limited range of colors available in accessibility devices, listing services and companies for personalizing them.

  “Hey yourself,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She turned to Charlotte. “It’ll be so much fun.”

  “Yes,” Charlotte said. “Well, it starts with breakfast, so I guess take Silas with you. I’m just waiting on Trish and then we’ll follow. She’s always a bit late.”

  Anne saluted Charlotte like she’d been issued orders, then nodded her head. “This way.”

 
“I have no idea what’s going on today, by the way,” Silas said once they were out of earshot. “I didn’t check my email.”

  “Charlotte Style Stag-and-Doe. In the most generous use of the term.” Anne smirked. “We get breakfast, then mani/pedis at the salon, then there’s a game—I shit you not, a game—when we meet up with the guys for lunch. Something called a Spouse-off. I have no idea what the menfolk are doing, but I bet it’s more fun than we’re about to have with the Stepfords.”

  Silas laughed, covering his mouth as they entered the reserved room he’d noticed yesterday. “I adore you. Thank God you’re here.”

  “Right back at you,” she said. “To be clear, our job here is to run interference for Elisha, right?”

  “One hundred percent. Love the flames, by the way.” Silas tilted his head to her rollator.

  “Thank you. This is Ada. She’s my new baby. I was terrified the airline would destroy her, but I won the baggage crew lottery I guess. I’m trying out some new wheels designed for snow and doing a product review. So far, pretty good.”

  Silas pulled out her chair, and Anne sat.

  “Oh. Silas,” his mother said, looking up from where she sat beside Elisha. “I think the men are getting a car. You should be able to catch up.”

  “He’s a bridesmaid, Mom,” Elisha said. “He’s with us today.”

  “But he’s a man.”

  “Well spotted,” Anne muttered.

  Silas tried not to smirk, looking down while he sat beside Anne. He cleared his throat and aimed a smile at his mother he hoped didn’t come off as gloating.

  “It’s just…”

  “He’s a bridesmaid,” Elisha said again.

  “But never a bride,” Silas said, putting a hand to his chest and wilting into his chair. “More’s the tragedy.”

  His mother’s eyes widened, and Silas struggled to keep smiling. Where the hell had that come from? Anne’s eyebrow rose, and she gave him a little nod of support. He glanced at Elisha, but she was still staring down their mother, waiting.

  A little less Dino, a little more me.

  He was out of practice being the Silas they knew and borderline tolerated. The realization hit like a cold shock.

  That’s actually a good thing. The thought sounded an awful lot like Ru in his own head.

  “Well,” his mother said to his sister, in the tone she reserved for terrible ideas worthy of an “I told you so” later. “I suppose it’s up to you.”

  “This is fun,” Anne leaned in close to Silas. “Isn’t this fun?”

  * * *

  It wasn’t fun.

  At breakfast, Charlotte and Trish seemed to hit the mimosas pretty hard, which put them in a decent, if giggly mood, but the moment they started eating, Silas’s mother announced her agenda.

  “A professional photographer knows what to look for,” she said, trying for the fourth time to convince Elisha she hadn’t thought the subject through.

  “Mom,” Elisha said with more patience than Silas expected. “It’s covered. Nelson is a photographer, he brought his camera. It’ll be fine. He takes pictures for a living.”

  “But he’s not a professional wedding photographer, is he?”

  “He’s a photojournalist, Mom.”

  Their mother took a sip of mimosa, and for a brief moment, Silas thought maybe she’d finally thrown in the towel.

  “Well. I put in a few calls.”

  “Mom.”

  “Don’t worry,” she waved a hand. “Once I hear back and see who’s available, we can decide then.” She sighed. “I don’t know how you expect to put together a full wedding on Christmas Day with less than two months’ notice.”

  “I expect family and closest friends and a small wedding. That’s all we want,” Elisha said. “That’s not going to change by tomorrow.”

  Alexandra Waite shook her head slowly. “Your cousins, though. You went to all of their weddings.”

  “Don’t worry,” Anne said. “I’ll record everything. Between me and Nelson, we’ll get it all. They can watch later.” She held up her phone, and Silas’s mother regarded it, then Anne, for a cool second before turning back to Elisha without a word.

  “Maybe we could throw a larger gathering in the New Year? Host a proper reception for the family and some of our important friends.” His mother held up a finger. “I’m sure I could get a beautiful space. Like we did for Micah.”

  “I think I’m invisible,” Anne said.

  “You get used to it,” Silas said.

  Elisha turned to Charlotte. “What time are we due at the spa, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte put down her glass and checked her pink clipboard. “We’ve still got fifteen minutes before we have to go.”

  “You know, I’ve never had a manicure,” Silas said, chasing the last bit of egg around his plate. “What’s it like?”

  “I didn’t book a spot for you,” Charlotte said, frowning. “You’re a man.”

  “Yep,” Silas said.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Elisha said. “I’m sure there’ll be room for one more.”

  “Given my fibro flare, I might need to skip,” Anne said. “Maybe you can have my slot?”

  “Maybe.” Charlotte huffed out a little breath. “There was only one spa listed that looked remotely good, and I do mean remotely.”

  “Could I get a refill?” Trish tapped her glass when the server came to take her plate.

  Anne aimed her phone at the two women. Silas noticed her recording. He caught her attention and raised an eyebrow.

  “If they get drunk enough to fall over, I want video.”

  “Ah.”

  “Oh good!” Mrs. Waite said, holding up her phone. “There’s a real photographer available!”

  “Mom.” Elisha said, in a slow, even voice that quieted the whole table. “No.”

  Silas finished his food and tucked his cutlery neatly to the side. “Great eggs,” he said, smiling at the server when she came by with the check. “Thank you so much.”

  “Do you not eat out much in Ottawa?” his mother said, frowning at her own plate, still half-full. “I’m through with this.”

  The server gave Silas a tight smile as she took the plates. He managed to mouth the word “sorry” before she left.

  Charlotte plucked up the bill and pulled out a gold card, tapping it against her lip. “Should I leave a tip?”

  “Yes,” Elisha, Anne, and Silas said in unison.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes, so when the server came back, Silas watched her press the buttons on the pin pad. He was pretty sure she entered a one-digit percentage tip.

  He surreptitiously slipped three twenty dollar bills under his coffee cup. There went the budget for pretty much anything else this week.

  “Okay,” Charlotte said once Trish had drained her last mimosa. “Are we all finished, then? Ready to go?”

  “Absolutely,” Silas said.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry! I can’t!” Silas barely managed the words, gasping for breath.

  Anne lowered her phone only a little. “Please keep going.”

  “Anne!”

  The woman holding Silas’s foot was too professional to laugh, but Silas could tell she wanted to. Monsters. All of them. The moment she went back to work, Silas lost it immediately. Every stroke of the little scrubber-thingy the woman used tickled. He’d expected pain or discomfort, but not this.

  “I can’t! I can’t!” he said, through gritted teeth. “Ahh!” He gripped the arms of the chair, shaking his head, tears streaming down his face.

  “This is the best,” Elisha said. “The absolute best.”

  The woman stopped again. “Should I keep going?”

  “No,” Anne said, tapping her phone screen. “I got enough.” She tapped a few more times, and Silas heard the whooshing sound of a message being sent.

  “Who did you just send that to?” He dabbed his eyes.

  “Hm?” Anne’s eyebrows rose.

  Silas’s phone
pinged.

  You seem to be having a great time. I love your laugh. The text was from Dino.

  “You’re the worst,” Silas said, glancing back up at Anne. “Traitor.”

  “Me?” Anne shook her head. “Elisha gave me his number.”

  “Oh sure, throw the bride under the bus,” Elisha said. “Some maid of honor.”

  “You’re both the worst.” Silas tapped a response.

  It turns out I am too ticklish for pedicures. How’s your morning going?

  Craig is great. Geoff, too. They’re way better on snowboards than me. I’m better than your brothers. Skiing now. Nelson is not good, but really enjoys falling down.

  “They went snowboarding,” Silas said.

  “What?” Charlotte’s voice cut through from two stations down. “They were supposed to be playing pool.”

  “Craig has never played pool,” Elisha said.

  “Snowboarding is definitely more fun,” Silas said, earning a frosty look from his sister-in-law.

  “Well,” she said. “As long as they’re back for the Spouse-off.”

  “Okay,” Anne said, raising her hand. “I give up. What the hell is a Spouse-off?”

  Charlotte snuggled back in her seat, a smug smile on her face. “It’s like a trivia game, but for spouses.”

  “We found the idea online,” Trish added. She’d been rather quiet since they’d arrived, and Silas wondered if she had mimosa regret. “You get to see how well you really know each other. You know, first dates, favorites, that sort of thing.”

  “Sounds great,” Anne said, crossing her eyes when she caught Silas’s gaze.

  How well we really know each other? First dates?

  Fantastic.

  Chapter Thirteen—September

  “I am so s-sorry,” Silas said. The apology might have done better had he not snickered on the final word.

  “Really? You’re laughing, Little Man?” Dino turned, and Silas winced. Even in the failing evening light, Dino’s cheek looked a darker shade of purple-blue than in class. At least his eye didn’t seem to be getting any more swollen.