Sometimes the Best Presents Can’t Be Wrapped

by B. G. Thomas

  The screen door opened, and Elaine Arehart, the woman who co-owned Four-Footed Friends with H.D., stood in the doorway. She was grinning too. Like a Cheshire cat. “Ned,” she said. “Jake.”

  “Elaine,” they chorused.

  “Merry Christmas,” she replied and came down the steps, arms open.

  “Merry Christmas,” Ned said, and they hugged. Then Jake did the same.

  Now Elaine and her mother—Emily must be Elaine’s mother; same last name—looked at each other and grinned. Elaine had told Ned that her mother’s dog had had a litter of puppies.

  “Well, come on in,” Emily said, “before we all freeze to death.”

  Jake was giving him that same look, and Ned couldn’t understand why everyone was glancing at each other the way they were. What was he missing?

  “I just want to know how you didn’t let me know you knew what I was up to,” Jake said. And now he was grinning.

  Ned could only shake his head.

  “This way,” Mrs. Arehart said when they got inside. She led them through the big old-fashioned country living room, through a dining room obviously set for dinner, into a kitchen alive with the smells of cooking food and a table laden with the prep for a meal, including casserole dishes obviously ready to go into the oven. “Back that way.” She pointed off to the side of the kitchen, beyond the refrigerator. “In the mudroom. Maybe I better lead the way. Make sure Mable isn’t afraid.”

  She opened the door into the room Ned had visited just last week, where he’d fallen in love with both the mother and her young charges. There, in a big box that had been cut so the sides were just under a foot high, lay a chocolate-brown dog. Squealing and shoving at each other to get to her teats were a litter of Lab puppies.

  “Merry—” Ned started to say, and cutting him off, Jake said, “Merry Christmas!”

  They stood and smiled at each other, then looked at each other in confusion, and finally in dawning understanding.

  “You’re kidding,” Ned said.

  Jake shook his head. “Really?”

  They turned as one and faced Elaine and her mother. Emily shrugged.

  “You do not know how hard it was keeping this secret separate from the two of you.”

  “You mean we had the same idea?” Ned said.

  Jake nodded. “I guess. And I’ve been nervous as heck. I wasn’t sure if it would piss you off.”

  “And I wasn’t sure if it would weird you out.”

  “But I took one look at the puppies—”

  “—and fell in love with them,” Ned finished.

  There was a slight woof from the box, and Mable stood up, protesting puppies dropping from her swollen breasts. She stepped out of the nest and confronted the humans. She let out a sharper bark.

  Ned went down to one knee. Dogs still made him slightly nervous, especially those that reflected what he had been for all those weeks. But there was also a kinship that went beyond understanding. A powerful bond.

  Mable stared at him like she had the last time, sniffed—once, twice—and then bobbed her head and gave a ruff! Then she turned to Jake and looked at him almost as hard before uttering a single bark at him. The puppies were all whining, and she gave them a look, barked, and then went to the back door before uttering one more canine communication.

  “All right,” Emily said and let her out. She turned back to Ned and Jake. “I don’t think she wants to see you two pick. But believe me, she is going to be glad to get rid of a couple of these guys. She’s done.”

  “A couple?” Ned and Jake said at the same time.

  “Well, of course,” Elaine said.

  “But I was thinking one,” Ned said.

  “Yup,” Emily said. “One for each of you, from each of you.”

  Ned shook his head and stepped toward the box, where Jake was already kneeling. One of the puppies—brown, of course, but with a slightly golden mark on his chest—greeted Jake with a happy series of yips and went right to him.

  “Awwwww…,” Jake said and picked him up. “How you doing, Bo?”

  “Bo?” Ned said and sat next to him on the old rag rug.

  “Well, you don’t want me to call him Boy, do you?”

  Ned’s eyes went wide.

  “But it reminds me of the most important thing to ever happen in my life.”

  Ned smiled. Even though his life as a dog was a touchy subject—they never really talked about it, only hinted at it occasionally—it was also powerful.

  “Isn’t he adorable?” Jake said and showed him the squirming little dog. A boy, Ned saw.

  “Cute,” Ned said. But while the little boy was cute, he wasn’t the one Ned had thought Jake would like. And just as the puppy Jake held had gone right to him, as Ned propped himself on his elbows and looked into the box, the runt of the litter gave a little cry and dashed to Ned. “Don’t you think Chanel’s cute?” He picked her up and drew her close, and she began to lick his face. Something he wouldn’t have allowed a year ago but today found wonderfully and hopelessly charming.

  “Chanel?” Jake asked.

  “Well, you wouldn’t want me to call her Coco, right?”

  Jake’s eyes went wide.

  “I understand what you mean about Bo and Boy,” Ned said. “Because that thing you’re talking about? It’s about the most important thing that ever happened in my life. Next to falling in love with you.”

  Jake beamed.

  “Which is why it’s two for the two of you,” Mrs. Arehart said.

  “Because never pick out a puppy for someone else,” Elaine said. “You can’t help it. You’re going to pick the dog that likes you. And then the little one will be your dog and not who you got him for.”

  Ned and Jake looked at each other. They looked at the wee ones in each other’s arms.

  “Two?” Ned asked. “I never thought of two….”

  Jake looked at him shyly, those beautiful dark eyes shining. “There’s room.”

  Ned thought about it for a moment. Saw the love Jake’s puppy had for him. Felt the love the puppy in his own arms had for him.

  And knew the answer. He looked up at the two women. “I guess it’s two.”

  They cheered.

  10

  THE HOUSE was full for Christmas dinner.

  The presents were all unwrapped. And there were a lot of them.

  The kids—Patricia’s three children—were overjoyed to see the puppies, of course. What child doesn’t love a puppy? And heck. The puppies were overjoyed to see them. What puppy doesn’t love children? There is a kinship there.

  Naturally, as much energy as puppies have, they tired way before the kids, and over their protests, Ned and Jake put Bo and Chanel to bed. Which turned out to be a big box in their bedroom.

  The second thing the kids were fascinated by was the Christmas tree. It was an aluminum tree.

  “Where did it grow?” Matty, the youngest, wanted to know.

  “They don’t grow,” said Jonathan, the middle child. “People make them.”

  “But why would you want a fake tree when you can have a real one?” Matty asked.

  “Because they’re pretty,” Carley said, flipping hair from her face like her mother. “And they’re cool. They’re retro.”

  Ned had no idea a girl her age would even know what retro was. It was all very amusing.

  “But why is part of it burned?” Matty asked.

  “Well, there lies an interesting story,” Ned said. “This tree belongs to your Uncle Jake. And once, it was put up in his apartment building in the city. And the building burned to the ground, and he almost died.”

  The kids, especially Matty, stared wide-eyed.

  “He did?” Matty asked.

  “Yup,” said Jake. “But a dog saved me. A dog a lot like the ones we got each other for Christmas.”

  “I want to hold Bo,” Matty said, apparently forgetting the story of the fire.

  But Carley didn’t forget.

  “What about the tree?
” she asked. “What about the fire?”

  “Well, the next day, your Uncle Jake and I went to check to see if anything survived the fire. But the building was burned to the ground. But somehow, except for the few burned branches, the tree was okay.”

  Carley looked at them skeptically.

  “It’s true,” Jake said. “It really is.”

  “Wow…!” the two boys chorused.

  And while they were gathering at the table, Ned leaned in to Carley and said, “Do me a favor, beautiful girl.”

  She looked at him with eyes so much like her mother’s it near took his breath away. “What?”

  “Don’t ever stop believing in miracles. Please. Take it from me.”

  She continued to look at him, long and hard. And then her expression changed. Softened. Maybe she saw something there. Maybe not. But she said, “Okay, Uncle Ned. I’ll try.”

  Jake insisted that Ned sit at the head of the table. Ned did so reluctantly and blushing. But as he looked around him, down one side of the table and back up the other, he could hardly believe how far his life had come—and how different this Christmas was to the ones over the last few years.

  Lillian was to his left, with Hubert at her side. Next was Patricia and her three children, Carley, thirteen, Jonathan, ten, and Matty, six. Ned had a moment to consider that this was a reflection of his own generation, but hoped young Matt wouldn’t wind up the same as Perry.

  But then Perry had come a long way, hadn’t he? He was next around the table, and beside him was his six-months-pregnant young wife. She’d left him when he went to Jefferson Penitentiary to serve his second term in prison. But with everything that had happened since he’d started working at Balding, he had convinced her to give him one last chance. She seemed happy she’d done so. Perry certainly was. And the rest of the family as well.

  Then came Mother. And today she was doing something Ned hadn’t seen her do in a long time. She was smiling. Beaming in fact. And fussing over Julia, her expecting daughter-in-law.

  Finally, there was Jake, of course. Ned’s reason for living.

  Living wonderfully.

  And oh, the way Jake was looking at him.

  With love.

  Thank you, he offered up to some Voice, even if It didn’t answer back.

  But it did.

  “Merry Christmas, Ned,” It said.

  “And to all a good night,” he replied.

  And then he reached to cut the turkey.

  SPECIAL THANKS

  Noah Willoughby for lots of transcribing. Exhaustive stuff!

  Chrissy Miles for editing. And some amazing research assistance. She was a wonderful help! She truly added some important dog-stuff to this story!

  Of course, Andi Byassee, my editor hero.

  Not to be forgotten: Tricia Kristufek, LizB, and Jessie. Wow!

  And a heartfelt thanks to the unbelievable Tippy. The things that you do!

  And once again I posted a number of questions on my Facebook page and asked people to join in on the fun and help me out. Thanks to:

  Rick Aurora for naming Cinnamon and Nutmeg (aka Cindy and Megan)

  Andrea Greca Ruggieri for giving me a face for Perry.

  Jessica Stuhr Kurvers to leading me to the face of Patricia.

  Jamie Fessenden, Christina Manole, Tina Black, Kaje Harper, Elin Gregory, Lee Rowan, and Lucy Marker for… bit off, ejaculated, grated, growled, nipped, quipped, raged, ranted, riposted, scoffed, snarled, sniped, sputtered, yipped, and zinged!

  Michael Thomas Ford for the Mame help.

  More people than I can imagine who helped with the Christmas songs, but I do want to make sure I mention Andrea Greca Ruggieri for “Carol of the Bells,” Kathleen Pinney for “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” Lori Alden Holuta for Chipmunks songs, Keller Ramsey for “O Holy Night,” John Ordover for “We Need a Little Christmas,” and most especially to Meredith Mc for “Please, Daddy (Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas).”

  The following research material was very helpful:

  The documentaries: “Dogs Decoded,” produced and directed by Dan Child, produced for NOVA by Melanie Wallace, © 2010 BBC, aired July 3, 2013 on PBS.

  A Dog’s Life, produced, directed, and written by Daniel and Donna Zuckerbrot, © 2013 Another Reel Image Inc./Reel Time Images Inc.

  And the book: Inside of a Dog: What Dogs See, Smell, and Know, by Alexandra Horowitz, © 2009, published by Scribner, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  More from B.G. Thomas

  Blue McCoy has lived on the streets for a long time, surviving by his wits and doing what he must, and he’s not above using his youthful appearance and air of innocence to his advantage. It’s not an easy life, but he’s happy. He has everything he really needs: the clothes on his back, a house to squat in, a sweet dog. Everything except that special someone to love him.

  Six months ago, John Williams’s wife left him because she was bored. “Even your name is boring” were her last words to him before she walked out. Now he’s by himself in a big house, trying to figure out what direction his life should take. He’s never been so alone.

  A chance encounter sets John on a new path, a path that becomes clearer when loneliness sends him to a local animal shelter to get a dog—and he finds an angel instead. An angel named Blue. A crisis brings them together, but it is something else that keeps them there. Could it be love? A love that can forever end two men’s deep loneliness and bring them the support and sense of belonging they’ve searched for all their lives?

  The path to happiness starts with acceptance, and sometimes the chance for a bright, loving future means letting go of the past.

  All his life, Neil Baxter has buried a large part of himself—the part that’s attracted to other men. He married a woman and denied that side of him existed. And he plans to keep right on pretending to be straight after his beloved wife has passed away.

  To help him deal with his grief, Neil’s sister-in-law convinces him to vacation at a dude ranch. There, Neil meets Cole Thompson, a young, gorgeous, unabashedly gay wrangler—who is unabashedly attracted to Neil. And try as he might, Neil cannot deny he feels the same way. But desire soon becomes something more profound as the two men get to know each other. Cole is much more than a sexy cowboy: he’s kind, spiritual, and intelligent. In fact, he’s perfect for Neil… except he’s a man, and Neil isn’t ready to let go of a lifetime of denial. If he cannot find the courage to be true to himself, he might let something wonderful slip through his fingers.

  Wade Porter spent his whole life in the shadow of a lover who doled out snippets of love and time as he saw fit—and who insisted that love stay deep in the closet. But now that man is gone, and Wade finds the oceanside cottage where they spent so many weekends together in the Florida Keys cold and empty. He has come one last time, not even sure he wants to keep living.

  To his surprise, the house next door is occupied by another bereaved and lonely man. Kent Walker is an artist of romantic gay paintings who is open to the future—and determinedly interested in Wade. Kent wants to show Wade the beauty in being an openly gay man and the possibilities for a real relationship.

  Maybe Kent can help Wade let go of the past and discover a better way to live—and love.

  Bryan Mills has fantasized about cowboys all his life. Real cowboys, that is. He even dresses in what his roommate calls “cowboy drag” when he visits his favorite bar, in the hope of attracting the attentions of a genuine cowboy. But all he usually finds are posers and guys his own age.

  Then one night, to his surprise, Curtis Hansen buys him a beer, and Bryan has no doubt this is the real thing. Curtis is a rugged, gorgeous man who is every bit a cowboy. He even owns his own ranch. What follows is about the most amazing night of Bryan’s young life.

  But can they move beyond a night of incredible sex when Bryan admits to Curtis that the only horse he’s ever ridden was a birthday party pony? And that he’s nothing but a poser himself? Maybe, just maybe, Curtis can find the re
al cowboy inside Bryan, and they can ride off into the sunset together!

  Seasons of Love: Book One

  Sloan McKenna is going through a tough time. His beloved mother has recently passed away, leaving him her house and beautiful garden. But should he keep the house? Sell it? To make matters worse, he’s in love with one of his best friends, Asher, a man who can’t (or won’t) love him back.

  Sloan’s neighbor, Max Turner, is married to an ambitious woman with far-reaching dreams, including moving the family to France. But Max is happy teaching at the local college and living in their nice, quiet town. Then he discovers his fourteen-year-old son is not only gay, but out and proud as well. That throws him into complete disarray, for more than one reason….

  When Max’s wife leaves on a two-month business trip to Paris, circumstances throw the two men together. As they become friends, Sloan finds himself falling in love with Max, who is completely unavailable… just like Asher. As for Max, he is discovering that both his son’s coming out and his new friendship with Sloan are stirring up feelings he thought buried long ago. Spring is a time for rebirth—Is there any way the two men can find happiness and a new beginning?

  B.G. “BEN” THOMAS lives in Kansas City with his husband of more than a decade and their delightful dogs Sarah Jane and Oliver. He is blessed to have a daughter as well as many extraordinary friends.

  Ben loves romance, comedies, fantasy, science fiction, and even horror—as far as he is concerned, as long as the stories are entertaining and about people, it doesn’t matter the genre. He has gone to literature conventions his entire adult life where he’s been lucky enough to meet many of his favorite writers. They have inspired him to create his own stories; it is where he finds his joy.

  In the nineties, he wrote for gay adult magazines but stopped because the editors wanted all sex without plot. “The sex is never as important as the characters,” he says. “Who cares what they are doing if we don’t care about them?” But then he discovered the growing male/male romance market and began writing again. He submitted a novella and was thrilled when it was accepted in four days. Since then the romantic tales have poured out of him.