by Nick Poff
“Humph,” Norma snorted. “Imagine, my own children ganging up on me. Who thought I’d live to see the day. Well, I’ll tell you one thing. I’m not eating any turkey that sister of yours makes after what happened on Thanksgiving. I’ll do it here myself, and you can just help me carry it over there.”
“Fine, Mom,” he sighed.
“What about Rick? Should I tell your sister to set another place? All the time you two spend together, don’t you think it’s about time he spent some time with the rest of the family?”
“He won’t be here,” Ed said quietly. “They’re all going to Indianapolis to spend Christmas with his parents.”
“Oh.” Norma fell silent, an unusual occurrence for her. “Well,” she finally said, “that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing him. You make sure he stops by here sometime. I have a gift for him, you know.”
Ed found himself smiling. “You really like him, don’t you, Mom? Admit it.”
“Humph! Yes, I like him. He’s better than you deserve, though. And I’ll tell you, I still haven’t figured out how to tell them at the garden club that my son has a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend, but, yes, I like him. He’s a good man. I have a lot of respect for the way he’s helping out his sister. And, Ed,” she continued in what was for Norma a soft tone of voice, “although it takes a mother some getting used to, I’m glad he’s there for you. You’ve been a lot happier lately, and that’s good to see.”
“Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate that.”
“See that you do,” she said in her normal tone of voice. “Honestly. Some mothers would cut their children right out of the will for something less. I’m a good mother, and don’t you forget it, Ed Stephens.”
“I won’t, Mom,” he said, laughing. “You’ll never let me.”
* * * * *
That night, while Ed and Rick were stringing lights on the tree they had bought, Ed repeated the phone conversation. Rick chuckled.
“Oh, Norma’s a good old gal. I’m really touched that she went out and got me a gift. Actually, I have one for her, too.”
“A muzzle?” Ed asked hopefully.
Rick playfully slapped Ed’s ass. “No! A new mailbox. That one by her front door is awful. Mailmen notice things like that.”
Ed grabbed for Rick, almost tipping over the tree. “My man, the mailman. Always responsible. Always thinking business. Don’t you ever put that bag down?”
“I do when I’m with you,” Rick said, giving Ed a kiss. “The entire United States Postal Service could grind to a halt right now and I wouldn’t care. Now, untangle those damned lights. We’ve still got half this tree to cover.”
They happily worked together, placing and rearranging the lights until they were both convinced it looked just right. Ed reached for the box with the ornaments, but Rick put out a hand to stop him.
“There’s something I have to get first. It’s in the car. Hold on a minute.”
Rick took off out the back door, then returned moments later with a bag from one of the city department stores.
“I picked this up the day I was in Fort Wayne, shopping with Claire. I saw it and liked it, and just thought . . . well, I thought it would be nice to put on your tree.”
He handed the bag to Ed, who opened it and took out a white box. Inside was a glass snowman ornament. The snowman was round and jolly, wearing a bowler hat and holding on to a broom.
“I don’t know,” Rick said, looking embarrassed. “I just heard ‘Frosty the Snowman’ in my head when I saw him, and I thought it would be nice to have an ornament to remember what I hope is just our first Christmas together.”
Ed was so touched he was afraid he might break down and cry. “I love it,” he whispered, looking at the snowman, then at Rick. “I love it almost as much as I love you.” Carefully holding the ornament, he reached out and pulled Rick to him for a kiss.
“I love you, too, baby. And I meant what I said. I really hope this is just the first Christmas for us.”
“Me too.” Ed held the snowman up where they could both admire it. “I think I have an old album with the Ronettes singing ‘Frosty.’ Let me see.”
He handed the snowman to Rick, then went charging upstairs. After shuffling through some LPs, Ed pulled out a record and returned to the living room. Soon Ronnie Spector was singing the story of “Frosty the Snowman.”
“Now,” Ed said, smiling happily at Rick, “we can hang him on the tree. Where do you think he should go?”
They studied the tree, then finally agreed that halfway up the front side would be perfect for Frosty. Rick carefully hung the snowman, then they stood back to admire him again.
“Maybe we’ll get a Santa Claus next year,” Rick mused.
“I don’t care,” Ed said, “as long as you’re here to put it on the tree.”
“That’s a promise, baby.” Rick smiled at the snowman. “I just wish . . .” He sighed.
“Don’t say it. We already agreed. Christmas for Ed and Rick is December twenty-sixth. Maybe next year things will be different.”
“They’d better be,” Rick grumbled. “C’mon. Let’s put the rest of this stuff on the tree.” He reached for the ornament box, then stopped. “I can’t help it. I feel like I’ve been naughty and Santa Claus won’t bring me what I really want.”
“Me too,” Ed said wistfully. “But family is important. You haven’t seen your folks since Thanksgiving, and the kids would be really disappointed if you weren’t there.”
“You’re important.” Rick hugged him. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
“I won’t. And you know? That’s really the best Christmas present I could hope for. When you think about it, Christmas came in October this year, when we first got together. Santa was really working overtime, getting you on my doorstep two months early.”
“Ah, you’ve been a good boy this year, Ed Stephens,” Rick said, finally smiling again. “And believe me, I’ve got presents for you that Santa would never think to give you.”
* * * * *
That night turned out to be one of the last relaxing evenings Ed and Rick were able to spend together as Christmas approached. Rick was rushed and exhausted from his long hours at the post office, and his evenings were spent helping Claire prepare Christmas for the children and prepare for their trip to Indianapolis.
Ed was busy, too. One of his clients, Ruth Dorsey, suddenly decided that her kitchen and dining room needed to be painted before her family Christmas party. Ed was annoyed at her last-minute decision, but was grateful for the extra money and the distraction. He came home in the evenings, paint splattered and tired, and headed directly for the Christmas tree to turn on the lights. He’d stand and stare at Frosty, thinking how lucky he was to have Rick.
Finally, on December 23, they managed to schedule an evening together. Rick picked up Ed in his battered, old Monte Carlo, and they drove out to the Wood Haven restaurant on North Main Street for what they hoped would be a quiet meal together.
“Those kids,” Rick said, shaking his head as they slid into a booth. “I wish I had some of those pills left from when my back was out. I’d grind them up and put them in their Kool-Aid. They’re so excited about Christmas and Santa Claus and seeing Grandma and Grandpa, they are about to drive me crazy.”
Ed laughed. “Laurie called today. She pretty much said the same thing about Lesley and Bobby. Poor Laurie. She wanted to make sure I’d keep an eye on Mom, in case she has some sneaky plot to switch dinner to her house.”
Rick laughed with him. “That Norma. I can’t wait to hear how she behaves through all of it.”
“You know what, though? This was really cool. Laurie said she really wished you would be joining us. She told me she was disappointed, and had been counting on your support where Mom was concerned.”
“How ’bout that. Isn’t it something, our families? Most guys have to go through hell when it comes to stuff like that, and here both your family and my family are okay with it. My mom has droppe
d some hints that she would like to meet you. We may have to take a road trip to Indianapolis together after the holidays so she can get a good look at you.”
“Talk about Christmas miracles,” Ed commented, opening his menu. “How did we get so lucky with this stuff?”
Rick shrugged. “Beats me. I guess sometimes you just get lucky.”
* * * * *
Later that evening, Rick had his coat on, keys in hand, reluctant to leave Ed’s place.
“I can’t believe I’m not going to see you for three whole days,” he said, holding Ed close to him. “I’m going to call you the minute I get back on Friday. I won’t even take my coat off. I’m running straight to that phone and calling you and telling you how much I love you.”
“Screw the phone call. Just come over here and tell me.”
“I’ll do that. I’ll push Claire, the kids, and all their presents out in the driveway and come right over here. I can’t wait for you to see what I got you.”
“Me too.” Ed glanced at the gift-wrapped box containing Rick’s present under the tree. Rick had been trying to grab it and shake it for the past two hours, but Ed had managed to keep him away from it. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, stroking Rick’s beard. “Come back to me, okay?”
“Merry Christmas,” Rick whispered back. He kissed Ed, a long kiss filled with love and happiness, but also with longing and regret. “I promise, baby. The minute I get back.”
After an extratight bear hug, Rick let Ed go and walked to the door.
“Be careful. I want you back here in one piece, ya know.”
“I will be,” Rick answered.
He hurried out the back door. A few moments later Ed heard his car start, then pull out of the driveway.
Ed stood motionless, listening to the silence. “Aw, crud,” he muttered. He walked into the living room and looked at Frosty on the tree. “It’ll be okay. Somehow it’ll all be okay.”
* * * * *
On Christmas Eve, Ed sat glumly in front of the TV, dressed for the trip to Crestland with his mother, killing time until he needed to leave. He was watching a rerun of The Mary Tyler Moore Show. It was a Christmas episode, and he couldn’t say it was doing much for his mood. First Mary was told she had to work on Christmas Day, ruining her plans to spend the day with her parents. Then, after making plans to spend Christmas Eve with Rhoda, a co-worker conned her into working his Christmas Eve shift, meaning she had to cancel her plans with Rhoda and spend the evening alone in the newsroom.
“Terrific! Wonderful!”Rhoda hollered. “You get me all hyped up for Christmas Eve and then you run out like this. What am I supposed to do, stand out in the snow and light matches?”
“I hear ya, Rhoda,” Ed said to the TV.
“Rhoda, will ya please?”Mary pleaded. “This has been a rough week, and the worst part is just about to begin.”
“I’m with ya, Mary,” Ed said.
The fade-out was on Mary, standing alone in her kitchen, surrounded by her Christmas decorations, eating a peanut butter sandwich. The commercial came on, and Ed suddenly realized he had tears running down his face.
“Aw, crud,” he whispered, wiping them away. He glanced over at the Christmas tree. There was Frosty, smiling at him as usual.
The episode resumed, ending happily with Lou, Murray, and Ted surprising Mary in the newsroom, rescuing her from a Christmas Eve alone.
“Boy, I wish,” Ed muttered.
Suddenly he stood up, looking at the tree. He walked over and gently placed his hand around Frosty.
“I know this is stupid. But, Frosty? Bring him back to me, okay? I lied. Just knowing he loves me and wants to be with me next Christmas isn’t enough. I really need him here tonight.”
The phone rang, and Ed was so startled he almost pulled Frosty off the tree. His heart beating a little faster, he went to answer it.
“Ed?” Norma barked. “Where are you? It’s time to go. You know how your aunt Eleanor will act if we’re late to dinner.”
“I’m coming right over, Mom,” he said, sighing.
He clicked off the TV, then turned off the Christmas tree lights. Pulling on his coat, he looked around the dark, quiet room.
“Well. So much for wishes.”
* * * * *
Ed returned late that evening, now grateful for the quiet house after an evening spent with family. His aunt Eleanor was the only person he knew who could outtalk his mother. Still, it hadn’t been a bad evening, and except for one painful moment on the way home, when “Merry Christmas, Darling” came on the radio, Ed felt much more at peace and had finally accepted the fact that Rick was over a hundred miles away on Christmas Eve.
He crawled into bed, hoping that sleep would come to his immediate rescue. Ed was about to drift off when his eyes suddenly flew open. What was that sound? “Santa Claus?” he whispered. He sat up, listening intently. Yes, there it was again, a light tapping. It sounded like someone was knocking on the back door.
He flashed on Mary Richards, alone in the newsroom, thinking she was on the verge of being murdered when she heard the elevator roar to life.
“Don’t tell me Lou and Murray have come to visit,” he muttered as he got out bed.
He pulled on his robe and walked through the living room, where the Christmas tree ornaments were shining in the dim street light coming through the windows. He cautiously approached the back door, wishing it had a window. He fumbled with the knob, then slowly opened the door.
Rick stood on the walk.
Ed blinked. Then blinked again. Yes, it really was Rick, his arms around a big, gift-wrapped box, grinning at Ed like an idiot.
“Surprise,” Rick called out softly.
Ed fumbled the storm door open and threw himself at Rick, somehow managing to get his arms around Rick and the box he was holding. He felt the stinging cold of the cement walk on his bare feet, but he didn’t care.
“What are you doing here?” he exclaimed, his face against Rick’s beard.
“December twenty-sixth just wasn’t good enough, baby.” He gently pushed Ed’s face away from his and looked right into Ed’s eyes. “Merry First Christmas,” he said.
* * * * *
A few minutes later they were sitting on the sofa. Ed had let go of Rick only long enough to plug in the Christmas tree lights, and for Rick to take off his coat and deposit the box he was carrying under the tree.
“How did you know?” Ed said, practically pulling Rick into his lap. “How did you know that all I wanted tonight was to be with you?”
“Simple,” Rick answered, that idiot’s grin still on his face. “Because it was the only thing I really wanted. All the way to Indy I kept wanting to turn back. The kids were fighting in the backseat, and Claire kept messing with the radio. I think I heard ‘White Christmas’ about forty-seven times. And all I could do was wish I was back here, spending Christmas with the cutest handyman in Porterfield, Indiana.
“Well,” he continued, stroking Ed’s hair, “we had been at Mom and Dad’s for a couple of hours when Mom dragged me off to the kitchen. She wanted to know what was the matter with me. I lied and said that nothing was wrong, I was just tired, but she didn’t believe me. She finally got me to admit that I was missing you, that I wanted to spend at least part of Christmas with you. Then she let me have it. She said that I should have said something weeks ago, and that I took family responsibility too far sometimes. Next thing I know, she was all but marching me out to the car, telling me to come back late tomorrow afternoon to pick up Claire and the kids, and to drive safely, and not break any speed limits.”
“Did you? Break speed limits, I mean?”
“Well, maybe one or two. Mom also insisted that I bring you down to Indy on my next day off. She wants to see the man who’s got me so stirred up.”
“Are you, darlin’, stirred up?”
“Like a very bad martini.” Rick laughed. “Oh, but I feel better now. I don’t think I’ve ever felt better in my whole life than I do ri
ght now.”
“I just can’t believe it,” Ed said. “Hey! I’ll have to call Laurie in the morning and tell her to set another place at the table. Man, won’t they be surprised.” He shook his head. “But no way, no way, as surprised as I am. And happy. Darlin’, I am so happy right now I could . . . I could . . . hell, I don’t know,” he ended helplessly.
“For starters, how ’bout a kiss for Santa Rick?”
“No problem,” Ed said, reaching for him. “No problem.”
Even for Ed and Rick it was a long kiss. Neither one of them seemed quite ready to let go, but finally Rick pulled away.
“Hey, enough of this. Don’t you want to see what Santa brought you?”
“Besides you?” Ed laughed. “What else do I need?”
“That big box under the tree is for you, you goof. C’mon, I’m dying for you to open it.”
Ed got up and went to tree. He paused for a moment, smiling at Frosty.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
“What?” Rick asked from the sofa.
“Oh, nothing.”
Ed thought that maybe he’d wait until next year to tell Rick about his wish with Frosty. He got down on his knees, but instead of picking up his gift, he pulled out the box containing Rick’s present.
“Here. Open yours first, okay?”
Rick frowned at him, taking the box. “After all that shit about how I couldn’t shake it or anything, you’re gonna let me go first? Okay, okay.”
He tore the paper from the gift. He opened the box and pulled out the denim jacket.
“Oh, wow,” he softly exclaimed, getting up to try it on. “I love it, baby. I just love it.”