It wasn’t too long before I was completely engrossed in my work—finishing up assignments I was late on while getting a head start on others. I paused long enough to fix a sandwich for lunch and even had my candy from last night for dessert. Took a quick shower to clear my mind, then threw a load of clothes in the washer while I stretched my back. But the day was passing by, and my phone remained silent like it always did—even though I’d secretly hoped to hear from Troy, at least. But there were no messages, voicemails, or emails—except for spam. No one to wish me a merry Christmas or a happy holiday, and honestly, I was okay with that.
Doing my homework helped keep my mind busy enough, and even when I was doing mundane household chores like laundry or making lunch, I ran what I’d just read through my head to make the lessons stick—anything to keep me from remembering. And to celebrate getting through the worst day of the year? I had a bottle of liquor and a bottle of soda waiting for me in the fridge.
I had just settled back down on the couch after tossing my clothes into the dryer when there was a knock on my door. I ignored it at first, thinking it was someone at my neighbor’s and they only knocked loudly, and turned my attention back to my work. But as soon as I started to read through my syllabus, the knock came again—much louder.
Okay, apparently, I had someone knocking on my door. But who would it be? I had no one in my life, so maybe it was someone who was lost? With a sigh, I set my laptop on my coffee table and stood slowly. As I rounded the couch to head toward the door, another resounding knock came. Whoever was on the other side was very persistent.
When I got to the door, I paused long enough to look through the peephole, and what I saw on the other side had my eyes nearly bugging out of my head.
“What are you doing here?” I asked when I swung the door open. “Aren’t you supposed to be Norman-Rockwelling with your family right now?”
Troy shifted on his feet, looking a bit uncomfortable, and then held up his hand to show the gift bag he’d been holding. “Uh, you left this in my car.”
I narrowed my eyes at the bag. “My white elephant gift? Thanks for bringing it over, but I was just going to let you keep it. I don’t cook unless popping a meal in the microwave counts. You’ll make better use of it than I ever would.”
“Oh, well, thanks. I also brought you a plate of food, since you’ve mentioned your lack of cooking skills,” he explained and lifted his other hand that was holding a foil-wrapped plate.
“Oh, well, thank you for that. Do you want to come in?” I asked lamely.
“That’d be great, thanks.”
I stood back so Troy could step around me. As he paused to glance around my minuscule, barely decorated living room, I realized it was the first time he’d ever been in my apartment. Did he see what I saw? The empty walls, dumpy furniture, and lack of any décor. My apartment had the bare necessities, but it didn’t look—or feel—like a home.
“Nice place,” he said as he walked over to the couch. After setting the food and bag on the coffee table, he sat down. Then, he shucked his jacket and tossed it over the arm of the couch.
“It’s four walls and a place to sleep,” I said with a shrug as I tried to brush off the sudden bout of insecurity I felt.
I didn’t like that Troy made me feel things I never had before. He made feelings and emotions stir inside me that’d laid dormant for such a long time. Staying away from people didn’t feed into awkwardness or insecurities. Being a—as some people called it—recluse kept those emotions at bay. Now that I was socializing and spending time with someone else, I was becoming more…human and emotional. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
“So, how were caroling and dinner?” I asked as I sat beside Troy on my couch, making sure to leave a bit of space between us.
“The same as every year. Lots of off-key singing, tons of food, and way too much family time.”
“So, in other words…”
“It was a great time.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I might not be all that into Christmas, but I know caroling usually happens at night, and it’s not even dark yet.”
“You caught me. But there was off-key singing from my family while we got the food ready. Maybe I just didn’t want you to be alone for Christmas and used your gift as an excuse to come by and see you?”
“Why on earth would you want to do that?” I couldn’t help but ask as a funny feeling had my stomach swooping.
“Why on earth would you want to spend it alone?” he shot back.
I sighed and stared off into space. I wasn’t sure what made me finally give him the little nugget of truth; maybe it was because I felt…something for him. Or it was because he left his family early to make sure I didn’t spend the holiday alone. Whatever the reason, I found myself opening my mouth and spilling out a tiny bit of the contents inside.
“I’ve spent it alone for so long, I don’t know anything else.”
Troy shifted closer to me and rested a tentative hand on top of the one I had resting on my thigh. “What happened that makes you hate Christmas so much?”
My eyes stung as I finally lowered the barrier in my brain that blocked those terrible memories. Soon, my mind was flooded with darkness and pain, and my entire body started to shake.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” Troy rushed to say when he saw how upset I was. “We can…we can forget I even asked and watch something blow up on the television. How does that sound?”
But I was too far gone. I couldn’t make any sense of what he was saying to me, even if I could hear his words. Instead, I twisted my hand under his and wrapped my fingers around him in a tight grip. Oddly enough, holding his hand, and feeling the pressure of his fingers as he returned the grasp had me wanting to tell him. I should’ve felt awkward and uncomfortable allowing Troy to see me in such a vulnerable state, but I didn’t. His presence and hand-holding had given me strength I didn’t know I needed or that he possessed. And I found myself wanting to open up to him. I was tired of keeping it to myself.
So right there, in my nearly empty apartment on a snowy Christmas evening, I opened my mouth and finally told my story.
Chapter 12
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer…had a lot of asshole friends.
My voice came out wooden as I started to speak. It took a few seconds for me to get the first few words past my lips, but Troy’s tight grip on my hand made it much easier.
“I had the best childhood. My family found every excuse possible to hold a celebration or find a reason to get together. An A on a report card? Well, that deserved a cake. Learning to ride a bike without training wheels? Let’s all get together for that. Hell, my parents threw a party when I got potty-trained. But Christmas,” I closed my eyes as I allowed my mind to remember, “Christmas was always the best time of year. It was my mom’s favorite time of year, and she went all out. It was a family event as we wall trekked down to the tree farm to find the perfect tree, and then we’d drink eggnog—for the adults—and apple cider—for me—as we decorated it and the rest of the house. While the women were inside finishing up the tree, my dad was outside putting lights on every available surface until the Space Station could see it.”
“It sounds like you had amazing parents and incredible memories,” Troy said softly after I paused to swallow the lump in my throat.
“I was…I was eight when it h-happened. It was the night of December twenty-third, and I was spending the night with my grandmother. My parents were having a lot of people over for Christmas Day, and my mother wanted to get the house clean for all the company. She told me that sending me to my grandmother’s would be a big help so she can get things done for Santa’s arrival the next night.”
Troy laughed quietly. “I’m sure you would try to see what presents she was trying to wrap or would leave handprints on windows she’d just cleaned.”
“You’re probably right. I was a handful as a child. It’s probably why my parents never had another
one. I was more than they could handle.”
“We were all sound asleep when there was a knock on the door. I crept out to the living room to see my grandma standing at the door, talking to some police officers. I couldn’t hear what the officer had told her, but my grandma let out a noise I’d never forget. At eight years old my vocabulary wasn’t developed enough to describe it, but now, as a grown man, I know it was pure agony—as if someone had ripped her soul from her body. My foot made the wooden floor creak, and she turned to look at me, and I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. They were filled with so much pain, and it was the first time I’d ever seen my grandmother cry. I didn’t even see her cry at my grandfather’s funeral. But that night, tears streamed down her face. She demanded I go back to my room, and that she’d be in to check on me later. I wanted to stay, to see what had my grandma so upset, but the way she yelled at me told me it was best not to argue.”
Another reassuring squeeze from Troy gave me the strength I needed to continue speaking. And the longer I talked, the easier it became. Maybe it’s because I’d held it in and dealt with the inner demons by myself for so long that I needed to lessen the burden.
“I sat on my bed, listening to the hushed voices of my grandmother speaking to the officers for what seemed like hours. Every so often, I’d hear a loud sniffle or a cry from my grandma, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I can still remember what I was wearing. You know that?” Troy shook his head. Of course, he didn’t. How could he? “I had on a matching pajama set with blue pants and a blue t-shirt. They were covered in Santas, reindeer, and candy canes. Finally, my grandma came into my room, and she looked sad…so fucking sad,” I sighed and shook my head as my eyes burned with unshed tears.
Troy scooted closer to me and put his free hand on my forearm. Using his thumb, he rubbed it against my bare skin, slowly moving the digit back and forth in a comforting caress.
“She sat down on my bed and immediately held her arms open for a hug. I didn’t give it a second thought as I launched myself into her arms like I always did every time I saw her. She was my grandma, and grandmas always give the best hugs. But as she wrapped her arms around me, she squeezed me very tight, and I could feel her tears fall onto my shirt and in my air. But rather than talk, she just sat there squeezing me tightly as she rocked our bodies back and forth.”
“Maybe grandsons give the best hugs, too?” Troy suggested softly.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said and gave him a shaky, watery smile.
I used my free hand to wipe away the tears that threatened to break free and took a deep breath to continue speaking. I was halfway there. I just needed to finish the rest.
“When my grandma finally pulled away, she only did so, so that she could plant a long kiss on my forehead. And then she finally told me what the cops said to her.”
I had to close my eyes when I said the next part. There was no way I could look at Troy while I finally let him know why I hated Christmas. I couldn’t allow him to see me cry and at my most vulnerable. And I didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, grandma? Why are you crying?” I asked her. My voice was wobbly, and I was scared. I’d never seen my grandma so upset. Did she need another hug?
“Reed, oh baby,” she started to say and ran a shaky hand through my messy curls. “That was the policemen at the door. You remember how you met the nice officers during your field trip to the police station? And they gave you a sticker that looks like a badge?”
I nodded, not understanding why the policemen made her cry. “Am I in trouble?” I finally asked. Why else would they come over and make her cry? “I’ve been a good boy for Santa.”
“No, baby,” she said and wiped her cheeks, “but something happened to your mommy and daddy.”
“What do you mean?” Something happened to Mommy and Daddy? What could happen to them? My mommy was like a princess to me since she was so beautiful and loved flowers, and my daddy was a superhero. Any time me or my mommy needed something, we always called for daddy, and he was always there. He could fix anything, and my mommy made everything—especially when she kissed my boo-boos. So, nothing could ever happen to them.
“There was a fire at your house, sweetie. And…and your parents didn’t make it.”
“Didn’t make what?”
“They…they didn’t make it out of the house before the fire grew too big. Your mommy and daddy, well, they’re with grandpa now.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and I watched as more tears started to stream down her face. My mommy and daddy were with grandpa? But that meant…
“I’ll never see them again?” I asked as what she said finally hit me.
My grandma shook her head. “No, baby.”
I shook my head at her words. “But…but what about my friends and my toys? Who will take care of me?”
“You’re going to live with me now, Reed. Your mommy and daddy would have wanted that.”
I burst into tears at her words, as I realized I’d never see my mommy and daddy ever again. And as my grandma wrapped her arms around me, I buried my face in her chest as I sobbed harder than I ever had before. Because even though grandmas gave the best hugs, at that moment, all I wanted was to feel my mommy’s arms around me again, and the pain of knowing I never would again was almost too hard for my eight-year-old heart to bear.
“I woke up Christmas morning wishing it was all a dream, but seeing my grandmother’s sad eyes told me it wasn’t. Family came over to offer their condolences and to bring my grandmother and me some meals, but Christmas wasn’t celebrated that year. All I got was a candy cane a cousin had given me. The rest of the years that followed were painful reminders of what my grandmother and I had lost that day. I lived with her until I was fifteen before she died of a heart attack, and then I was placed in foster care until I phased out at eighteen. I hadn’t celebrated a real Christmas since. The fire marshal determined faulty wiring in the heating system was the cause of the fire. I remember my dad once mentioned needing to get it fixed, but since it was so expensive, he hoped it’d hold out another year. I guess it didn’t.”
When I finished speaking, I finally gathered the courage to open my eyes and glance at Troy. Even though they weren’t filled with pity, I could see the pain he felt for my story, and his own eyes were shiny with tears.
“I had no idea. Reed, I am so sorry that happened to you. Of course, you hate Christmas and everything it reminds you of.”
I nodded and let out a slow breath. “And now I feel like I’ve ruined yours.”
Troy shook his head. “Stop it. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me. I can’t imagine what you must go through every year. Seeing the trees and decorations and everyone celebrating with family and loved ones must’ve been difficult for you.”
Thank God, he understood. “That’s exactly it. I’ve never had a reason to celebrate.” Until now, I left off.
Troy gave my hand and forearm a final squeeze before he released me from his hold. As soon as they were gone, I found myself missing his touch and craving his warmth. But how could I ask him to put his hands on me again without sounding like a fucking weirdo? Instead, I cleared my throat and discretely wiped my eyes again.
“So, uh, now that I’ve made things awkward, want to watch a movie?”
Troy laughed. “You didn’t make anything awkward. But a movie sounds great. Did you have anything in mind?”
“Something that doesn’t have to do with the holidays?”
Troy shot me a wry grin. “That sounds perfect.”
Grabbing the plate of food he had brought me, I put it in the fridge and then rooted around my cabinets for some sort of snack. Thankfully, I found a bag of popcorn and popped it in the microwave while Troy looked through my DVD collection. He settled on an action flick that was mostly cars being blown to smithereens, and as Troy and I groaned our way through the cheesy lines and dramatic explosions while stuffing ou
r mouths with popcorn, I felt a lightness in my chest I hadn’t for a long time. Thanks to Troy, this Christmas was almost a happy occasion for me.
“I need to get going. It’s been a long day.”
“I didn’t mean to keep you awake so long.”
Of course, he was tired. He had a busy day with his family and then had to listen to my sob-story. He came over so I didn’t have to spend the day alone, and there I went, spilling my guts to him about why I loathed the jolly holiday. I was such an asshole, ruining his Christmas the way I did. I was surprised he even stayed at all, after listening to what I told him. Anyone else would’ve bolted out the front door and never looked back. Was he a sadist or something?
“You didn’t do anything. I wanted to spend this time with you, and I enjoyed your company. But now, I must get some sleep, and so do you. We both have work in the morning.”
I groaned at the reminder. “Yeah, thanks.”
“For?” he prompted as he stood and grabbed the jacket he’d discarded earlier.
I shoved my hands awkwardly in the pockets of my pants. “Everything?”
“You’re welcome. Don’t forget your present.”
“I won’t.”
Troy gave me an awkward wave and opened the door. “Merry Christmas, Reed.”
Shutting the door behind him, I stared at a piece of wood that separated me from the man who, with whatever spell he’d woven over me, had made me actually enjoy Christmas.
I locked the door behind me and turned to face the gift bag that waited for me on the table. As if I wanted a contraption that turned vegetables into noodles? What in the hell would I do with that? But as I continued to look at the gift bag, I noticed something peeking out from under the green tissue paper.
I sat on the couch and grabbed the bag, and that’s when I noticed it was a bit heavier than from before. Was there something else in there? Rather than rip into the paper like I wanted to, I placed the bag on the floor and retrieved the envelope. Thankfully, it wasn’t sealed shut, and I pushed the flap up to grasp the card inside. When I pulled it out, I saw a handwritten note in a scrawl that’d barely pass as legible—almost as if it’d been written in a hurry and with much apprehension.
Bite Me, Santa Page 6