Snowflakes and Song Lyrics

by Hank Edwards

  “You’re working late,” Will said.

  “Yeah, one of the other girls quit this morning, so I’m doing twice the rooms.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “I saved your room for last, hoping I’d get to say goodbye.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  He hung his coat in the closet and started taking shirts off the hangers and laying them on the bed.

  “I bet you’re ready to be home, aren’t you?” Doreen had come out of the bathroom and started helping by taking shirts off hangers and handing them to him.

  “Yeah, I miss my own bed,” Will said, then couldn’t help glancing toward the window. “But I will miss this place.” He smiled at Doreen. “And you, of course. Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

  “My pleasure,” Doreen said, then gestured toward the window. “Have you talked with him yet?”

  Will felt a nervous tremble in his belly and decided to act innocent. “Him who?”

  “Don’t play dumb,” Doreen said with a shake of her head. “That Rex Garland whose patio you can see from your window. The guy who’s been having trouble writing a Christmas song for a new album until some secret songwriting elf helped him out with lyrics.”

  All words and the power of speech fled Will’s brain, leaving him standing and staring at her. Doreen crossed her arms and looked very pleased with herself.

  “Guess I hit the bullseye,” she said. “Don’t think I’ve seen you at a loss for words all these weeks.”

  Will recovered enough to let out a nervous-sounding laugh and shake his head as he shrugged. “What? Bullseye? I’m just not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re a bad liar, Will.” Doreen approached and stood a few feet away. “Take it from someone who never took the chance she should have. Go talk to him. He’s trying to find out who you are and what room you’re in. He really wants to talk with you.”

  “You didn’t tell him my room number, did you?” Will blurted.

  Doreen smiled slyly. “So there’s something to it then?”

  Will sat on the edge of the mattress. “Dammit, Doreen, this isn’t funny.”

  Doreen sat beside him. “I know it’s not. But you have to realize when you’re standing at a fork in the road. What you decide to do today will have an impact on everything going forward.”

  “Well, that’s no pressure at all,” Will said, surprised to find he was fighting back tears.

  “Take the time to think it through carefully.” Doreen said. “Make sure you’re at peace with whatever you decide to do because you will need to live with it for the rest of your life.”

  Will huffed quietly. “Do you give all guests here this kind of talk?”

  “Nope, just the special ones.” She patted his knee and got to her feet with a groan. “I’m glad this day is done, that’s for sure.” She turned to look down at him. “It’s been good getting to know you, Will. I hope we get to see each other again in the future.”

  Despite his racing thoughts and pounding heart, Will managed to give her a smile. “I hope so, too. Thanks for taking such good care of me. You made my stay here a lot more special.”

  “You have the power to make it even more so,” she said and gestured toward the window again. “Take charge of your life.”

  Will watched Doreen walk out the door and pull it shut behind her. What the hell just happened?

  Will finished packing moments before his phone lit up with a FaceTime call from Carter. He smiled and accepted it, glad to see Carter looked much better since the last time they’d talked.

  “It feels like you’ve been gone for fifteen years,” Carter said in lieu of a greeting. “I am ridiculously excited that you’re flying home tomorrow. When can I see you in person? I need a bear hug from my beary good friend.” He smiled, showing his dimples. “See what I did there?”

  Will laughed. “I do see what you did there, and it was very cute. I’m looking forward to seeing you too. I only hope I’ll be able to leave tomorrow.”

  Carter’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You may have to stay? That’s not fair! I demand more notice than this! Unless…” His expression and tone softened. “It’s because of a certain singer-songwriter we both know and one of us loves with the fiery passion of a thousand volcanoes?”

  “No no, it’s nothing like that,” Will said. “There’s another storm predicted for tomorrow. I’m hoping my flight is early enough to miss it.”

  “Oh. Okay. So no further traction on this singer attraction?” Carter gasped and smiled. “I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it! Hey, you think I could write songs for Rex too?”

  Will nodded. “Sure, of course. Just get yourself assigned to a hotel room with a broken heating unit across a snow-covered and lamp-lit courtyard from Rex’s room. No problem.”

  “My gay drama senses are tingling,” Carter said. “What’s happened since you talked to Rex at the bar?”

  “Nothing,” Will said with a sigh. “I’ve been dodging him and his manager the whole week.”

  “Dodging him? That makes it sound like he’s been looking for you.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Will said, even though he knew precisely that was what had been going on, based on the conversation he’d overheard Rex having with the front desk clerk and what Doreen had told him. He had ratted himself out on the whole situation, which was yet another reason he would be glad to get back to Boston and his own apartment. No more sneaking around a hotel lobby and telling people half-truths.

  Carter, of course, saw through the lie and called him on it. “I think you’re lying. Tell me right now what’s going on.”

  “Can it wait until we see each other? I’ll be home tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, you’ll be here, and Rex will be wherever he’s got a gig scheduled next,” Carter said. “This is your last night to make a difference.”

  “Do you clean hotel rooms as well?” Will grumbled.

  “I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure it wasn’t meant to be hurtful.” Carter fixed him with a pointed look. “Right?”

  “No, it wasn’t meant to be hurtful,” Will said. “You sounded a lot like Doreen, that’s all.”

  “She’s the smart and caring hotel housekeeper you’ve mentioned?”

  “Right.”

  “And she’s called you out on this situation?”

  “Right again,” Will said.

  Carter preened. “I can’t think of a better compliment. Thank you. Now, talk to me.”

  Will explained how he’d been avoiding Rex and his manager in the hotel lobby. He added what he’d said to Andrew and the nice things Bridget had said. That reminded him of the card she’d given him, and he propped the phone up on the dresser to be able to pull the card from his messenger bag.

  “What’s that?” Carter asked.

  Will pulled the card from the envelope. It was a hand-drawn scene showing a forest of pine trees covered in snow, the smallest tree decorated with tiny multicolored lights. He held it up to show Carter.

  “That’s pretty. Is that from Rex?” Carter asked.

  “No, it’s from Bridget, who I reported to here.” Will opened the card and found a 250 dollar gift card for Amazon inside, along with a handwritten thank you note. “Nice little bonus for what I did here.” Will held up the gift card for Carter to see. “250 bucks at Amazon.”

  “That is nice,” Carter said. “It will buy a lot of Rex Garland’s music.”

  Will tossed the gift card onto the bed and looked at the phone. “I can’t do it, Carter.”

  Carter’s expression softened. “Why not, Big Willie?”

  “Because I am just that, okay? I’m Big Willie, and he’s Rex the hot and talented musician. I mean, what the hell is he going to say?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe something like you’re handsome and kind and write amazingly romantic song lyrics? Why do you have to try to predict everything that’s going to happen?”

  “If I don’t try to predict it, I just end
up getting hurt,” Will said. “Over and over again.”

  “But that’s no way to live your life,” Carter said. “You need to step up and take a chance, or you might never get another shot.”

  “It’s ridiculous, okay? He’s all, you know…” Will waved his hands around as he tried to come up with a fitting description. “I don’t know, he’s all Rex Garland, and I’m… well, I’m me.”

  “Yeah, you’re amazing and kind and handsome and loyal and generous and patient and funny and humble and sexy and really good in bed. What could possibly come of that?”

  “You have to say stuff like that because we dated.”

  Will picked up the phone and sat on the bed. He felt tired and nervous and uncertain about everything. The past week he’d been focusing so hard on avoiding Rex, he hadn’t given much thought at all to approaching him. He looked at Carter and smiled. “Look, I’ll be home tomorrow. Can we save the pep talks and advice for then?”

  “All right, I can see you’re getting tired, so I’ll let it go after I say one more thing. You’ll be here in Boston tomorrow, but where will Rex be? Don’t waste this chance, Big Willie. I really think you made a connection with him.”

  “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

  They talked about other things a bit longer. Then Will told Carter he needed to go out and find something to eat. Carter promised to make him a home-cooked meal once he got settled at home, and Will smiled. “Deal.”

  Will felt a sharp jab of loneliness once he’d disconnected the FaceTime call. He had a lot on his mind and no idea what to do and very little confidence to go with it. Doreen had been right about one thing; this last night in Williamsville did feel like a turning point in his life. He just didn’t know which fork in the road he was going to take: the safe and familiar one, or the one that felt foreign and scary.

  Maybe it was best left alone for now. Rex would be performing in his final show at the Side-Eye tonight. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and they would both be heading off home for the holidays. On Christmas Day, Will planned to drive to his parents’ house in Hartford, and Rex would probably be visiting his mother where she lived in Palm Springs, on the opposite side of the country. There would be no surprise Christmas gift from Rex for Will. That kind of thing only happened in the movies, and this was Will’s all-too-real life.

  Well, all too real except for the secret songwriting he’d done.

  With a small smile, Will grabbed his coat and headed out for his last dinner in Williamsville. Since Rex was performing at the Side-Eye, Will felt safe enough from discovery to enjoy a final meal at the rib joint. He lucked into the same table he’d had when he’d talked with Rex. The food tasted extra good that night, and he savored the tangy barbeque sauce and tender meat. He really needed to find a rib place back home he and Carter could go to. The thought of Carter deep-throating each rib bone to get the meat off made him chuckle, so he took a picture of his plate of food and sent it Carter with a note: Do you like ribs?

  Carter wrote back shortly: Does a bear shit in the woods? My Grindr date just showed up. You suck on a rib bone while I suck on his bone.

  “Incorrigible,” Will muttered and shook his head.

  Once he left the restaurant, the cold air felt good, so Will walked around a few blocks before returning to the hotel and going back up to his room. When he opened his door, he gasped at the heat that enveloped him and quickly took off his coat as he stomped across the room to the heating and cooling unit. It seemed to be set correctly, but the room’s temperature was even hotter than it had been upon his arrival weeks ago.

  Will pulled open the slider window and stepped up close to the screen, taking deep breaths of the refreshing air. He tried not to look down at Rex’s little patio, but his gaze dropped there as if with a mind of its own. The snowman he’d built was still on the table, but Rex had added a tiny Santa hat. Will smiled and laughed, then shook his head and stepped back from the window.

  No, it wouldn’t work. He would be crazy to even open himself up to something like that. Rex was on a path to stardom and would meet thousands of hot, available men all over the world. And while Will himself was available, he was not exactly in the hot category.

  He turned away and headed for the bathroom, putting Rex and all the songwriting foolishness he’d inspired in Will to the back of his mind.

  Something woke Will from a dead sleep. No, not something, but rather someone. It was someone singing, and it pulled him out of sleep like a siren song.

  One stocking hangs by the fireplace

  But I’m lonelier by far on this Christmas Eve

  You’re so far away, so far from reach,

  My heart aches for you

  But my mind still believes

  You’ll come back to me

  You’ll come stay with me

  Weatherman says we’re bound to get snow

  But my heart’s not feeling that holiday glow

  Without you by my side

  This Christmastime

  Can I pretend you’re mine for Christmas?

  Can I wish for you this Christmas Eve?

  All I want from Santa is your kisses,

  Can I pretend you’re mine for Christmas?

  The lights on my tree

  Don’t shine quite as bright

  Without you here beside me

  Holding onto me tight

  Since you’ve been gone

  I’ve built a snowman all alone

  And gone sledding on my own

  All I do is cry and moan

  Wishing for you to come back home

  Can I pretend you’re mine for Christmas?

  Can I wish for you this Christmas Eve?

  All I want from Santa is your kisses

  Can I pretend you’re mine for Christmas?

  Can I kiss you underneath my mistletoe?

  Can I tell everyone that you’re my beau?

  Can I pretend you’re mine for Christmas?

  Can I wish for you this Christmas Eve?

  All I want from Santa is your kisses

  Can I pretend you’re mine for Christmas?

  The quiet strum of the guitar faded away into the night, and Will lay very still, hands tightly gripping the covers he’d pulled up under his chin. He stared at the sheer curtains, glowing in the soft lamplight from the courtyard as a gentle breeze puffed them out.

  Rex had finished their song. And he’d sung it out in the courtyard, just for Will.

  “That’s for you, Will Will Johnson, my secret lyricist,” Rex said. “I wish I knew where you were staying so I could sing it for you in person.” He was silent a moment, then huffed a quiet laugh and said, “Anyway, merry Christmas. I hope we meet again some day.”

  Will’s brain screamed at him to stand up, to rush to the window and throw the curtains aside and call down to Rex. His brain wanted him to shout out his room number and invite Rex into the room and see what might happen next.

  But Will remained in bed, muscles locked up and gaze on the gently billowing curtains. He had no idea what might happen after Rex got to his room—most likely nothing—but he couldn’t risk embarrassing himself any further in front of someone as handsome and talented as Rex. That was something Will didn’t think he could ever pull himself back from.

  He forced himself to roll over, turning his back to the window and closing his eyes. Sleep, however, wasn’t ready for him, and all he could do was run Rex’s song on a loop in his mind as he stared at the wall. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and he was going to try and get back home just like millions of other people. What could possibly go wrong?

  12

  “Delayed again! How long this time?”

  The woman’s annoyed voice drilled into Will’s sleep-deprived brain, and he winced before pulling his carry-on bag a few more feet away. The woman’s voice had been getting louder and sharper with each delay. Will couldn’t blame her. He was frustrated as well, but he wasn’t going to take it out on the desk agent or annoy everyone around him.
One glance outside—yep, still snowing hard—provided reason enough for the delays. There was nothing any of them could do about the weather.

  “I’m not sure, ma’am,” the desk agent replied with more patience than Will thought he’d be able to muster under the same circumstances. “This storm has hit all over New York state and much of the eastern seaboard.”

  Will checked his phone and decided now would be a perfect time for some lunch. And maybe a drink or two. He sent a text to his parents to let them know he might not be able to make it home in time for Christmas, then another text to Carter about a further delay of his flight.

  How many delays is that now? Carter wrote back.

  Three, Will typed out. And I’m sure there are more to come.

  Time to start drinking, I’d say.

  I’m heading that way now, Will wrote out.

  Safe travels, Big Willie. So glad you’re coming home.

  Will smiled and typed: Yeah, me too.

  But was he really that happy about it? He considered what had transpired during his time in Williamsville and had to admit it was kind of crazy. And romantic. A hell of a lot of romance. It was a memory he would always hold dear, and he hoped he’d be able to recall how it had felt to write lyrics and leave notes for Rex. Maybe someday he’d feel that kind of spark again, but for someone more readily available.

  He chose a pub and lucked into a small table by the window. The waitress was an older woman, her hair a soft white cloud upon which she’d pinned a tiny Santa hat.

  “Flight delayed?” she asked as a greeting.

  “Twice so far,” Will said.

  She waved toward the window. “Might be a couple more yet, with this weather.”

  “Yeah,” Will said. “I just hope Rudolph can show Santa the way.”

  “Too bad he can’t show your plane the way, huh?”

  Will laughed, then ordered a Guinness and a burger and fries. His waitress—JoAnn, according to her nametag—walked off, checking on her other tables on the way to putting in his order. He looked out the window and watched the steady snowfall. Speakers in the ceiling quietly played Christmas music, but none of the lyrics stuck with Will even though he knew each song very well. All he could hear was Rex playing his guitar and singing in the snow-covered courtyard the night before. Singing just for Will.