Heart of Glass

by Ari McKay

  Kevin laughed and smacked the back of Erik’s head. “You voyeur!” he scolded. “Look at poor Zach. If he blushes any harder, I think he might explode!”

  “Oh, it’s all right,” Zach said, then looked at Erik with a little smirk. “He’s good in bed, but where he really excels is outside of it. Everywhere outside of it.”

  But Erik was apparently shameless, because he let out a low whistle and appeared impressed. “I have to admit, I wouldn’t have pegged him as the adventurous type, but I’m glad to know you won’t get in a rut with him. Does he like toys too?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Zach replied, too busy wondering if maybe he should find out to be embarrassed by the question. He didn’t want Asher to get bored with him, after all, especially if Asher was used to variety.

  “Something to think about for Christmas,” Erik said with a wink. “You could get him something to help him jingle your bells.”

  “Erik!” Kevin shook his head in amused exasperation. “Okay, enough. I think Zach can figure it out from here. If you want to think about jingling bells, we can discuss it at home.”

  Zach snorted; he knew about the joke boxers Kevin had gotten Erik during their Secret Santa game. “I’ll keep your advice in mind,” he said, then lifted his glass. “But for now, I should thank you, fairy godfathers, for helping to make sure I’m not alone this Christmas. If it helps you to feel smug, you should know Asher doesn’t want me to wear those jeans for anyone but him.”

  Erik laughed as he touched his glass to Zach’s. “Wow, you’ve got him hooked good. I knew those jeans would help!”

  Kevin raised his glass as well. “You’ve hooked him. Now you just need to land him,” he said. “I have faith in you, Zach. Only a fool would let you get away, and from what I’ve seen, Asher Caldwell is no fool.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Zach said, then took a deep sip of his rum and Coke. He hoped Kevin was right, and Asher wouldn’t want him to get away. He was risking his heart, and if he could have a holiday wish, it was that his risk wouldn’t be in vain.

  Chapter Six

  “I’M THIRTY-FIVE years old, and this is the first time I’ve ever been invited to meet anyone’s parents,” Asher said as Zach pulled up in front of his parents’ house.

  Asher tried to keep his voice light to cover how nervous he was about meeting Zach’s family. What if they didn’t like him? He was worried if Zach’s family disliked him or disapproved of him, it might mean the end of their relationship—and Asher surprised himself by how much he didn’t want that to happen.

  Zach reached over to take one of Asher’s hands in his and give it a squeeze. “You’ll be fine. They’re going to adore you,” he said. He released Asher’s hand and unfastened his seat belt. “Come on. The sooner you meet them, the sooner you can relax.”

  The house was a big Victorian sided in yellow, with neat white shutters and a wide front porch. It was set well back from the road, and his parents owned several acres of land around it. Zach led him down a pretty brick pathway, and Asher could see carefully laid out flower beds, covered now with snow.

  A large welcome mat—red with “Ho Ho Home” written on it—sat in front of the door, which was all but obscured by a huge evergreen wreath bedecked with ribbons and pinecones. Zach opened the door, smiled supportively at Asher again, and then ushered him inside.

  As he followed Zach into the house, Asher looked around with interest. This house was far different from what he was accustomed to. It was clean and well-kept, but it didn’t have the staged, showroom look that most of Asher’s friends’ houses had. Or hell, that his own home had. His decor had been chosen by Mrs. Ted Caldwell Number Two, and Asher hadn’t bothered to redecorate since his father retired. His grandparents had bought the place and left it to his parents, and now it was his, but it still didn’t feel much like a home.

  This house looked lived-in. The hardwood floors were swept clean, but they showed the wear of family feet, and the furniture looked welcoming and comfortable. Asher could even smell something baking. Cookies, maybe. He expected to see drawings on the fridge and pencil marks on a doorframe somewhere in the house to mark the kids’ growth. For the first time, Asher understood what a home was supposed to feel like.

  “Zach! You’re here!”

  A small meteor came sprinting from the back of the house and slammed into Zach. Laughing, Zach stooped and picked up a little boy and gave him a hug.

  “Hey, bro!” Zach said, turning to face Asher. “I’m here, and I brought someone with me. Asher, this is Michael Anthony Richardson, my bratty little brother. Mikey, this is my friend Asher. He’s a lawyer, too, and a really, really good one.”

  Mikey had the same brown hair and soft brown eyes Zach did. “Hello, Mr. Asher,” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Asher didn’t have much experience—well, any experience, really—with kids, but he followed Mikey’s lead and shook hands like he would with any other new acquaintance. “Hello, Mikey. It’s nice to meet you too.”

  “Do you like cookies?” Mikey asked. “Mom made snickerdoodles and oatmeal raisin.”

  “I do like cookies,” Asher said. “Especially homemade ones. Did you help?”

  “I eat the broken ones,” Mikey replied with a grin. He squirmed, and Zach put him down, then Mikey reached out and took Asher’s hand, tugging him toward a doorway. “Come on! Everyone else is in the kitchen with all the boxes of ornaments. There’s like a billion of them!”

  Zach chuckled. “Sorry.”

  “For what?” Asher looked back at Zach as he let himself be dragged away, presumably to the kitchen.

  “For you getting co-opted,” Zach replied. “He likes you.”

  “I’m okay with being co-opted.” Asher offered Zach a reassuring smile, relieved to know at least one of Zach’s relatives liked him. With any luck, the rest would be won over as quickly and easily as Mikey had.

  Mikey pulled him into an eat-in kitchen even bigger than the one in Asher’s apartment. The front portion was dominated by a huge rectangular table piled with boxes and tissue paper, and more boxes were piled on the floor. The table was occupied by three young women, who looked up as he came in, and it was easy to see the resemblance between them and Zach.

  Mikey let go of Asher’s hand and dashed off to the kitchen area. “Mom! Mom, Zach’s here with his friend! He likes cookies, so you need to make sure he gets some before dinner!”

  Zach slid his arm around Asher’s waist. “Asher, these are my sisters, Ellie, Maggie, and Jen,” he said, pointing to each of the young women in turn, and they smiled and greeted him in a friendly way. “And this is my mom, Katherine. Mom, this is Asher Caldwell.”

  The woman who approached was an older version of her daughters, with the same dark hair and eyes. She was dressed in jeans and a bright red sweater decorated with the head of a reindeer, with black button eyes and a red pom-pom for a nose.

  “Hello, Asher, it’s so nice to meet you,” Mrs. Richardson said, holding out a fine-boned hand to him with a smile. “Welcome to our little madhouse.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Richardson.” Asher shook her hand. “Thanks for inviting me. Zach says you do Christmas right around here.”

  “We try. I must tell you Zach has spoken very highly of you,” Katherine continued, giving his hand a slight squeeze before releasing it. “He said watching you in the Winters case is what inspired him to move from prosecution to defense. I remember watching the case on television, and you were brilliant.”

  Asher found himself unduly pleased. His father had never praised his efforts, only exhorted him to do better, and his colleagues expected him to succeed, so they never seemed surprised when he did. Acknowledgment of his abilities, he realized, had been thin on the ground for most of his life.

  “Thanks, I do my best.” He slid his arm around Zach and gave him a little squeeze. “Zach is pretty brilliant himself. He’s got the mix of intelligence and compassion we need wi
th our clients, and he’s building a strong future for himself at the firm. He might even unseat me one of these days,” he added with a playful wink at Zach.

  “I doubt that,” Zach replied, then pressed a swift, unselfconscious kiss to Asher’s cheek. “But it won’t hurt to keep you wondering, now will it?”

  “Not at all.” Asher turned to look at Zach, his smile turning soft. “I need someone to keep me on my toes so I don’t get complacent.”

  “Zach will do that,” one of the sisters—Ellie, he thought—piped up. “We all learned to check our beds for things like frogs and slugs a long time ago.” She grinned. “Zach likes surprises.”

  “Now don’t go carrying tales,” Zach said, giving his sister a stern look.

  He seemed about to say more, but Katherine shook her finger at him, then shooed them over to a set of stools at the kitchen island. “Why don’t you boys have a seat? I’ve got fresh cookies and eggnog. I think Mikey went to get my husband. He’s been grading papers, trying to get caught up before the chaos of finals descends.”

  “Dad is an English professor at Princeton,” Zach explained, walking with Asher toward the island. “Theirs is a mixed marriage. Mom lectures in economics and public affairs. The funny thing is Mom is the one who always corrected our grammar, and Dad won’t let her near the family checkbook.”

  “Macroeconomics isn’t about penny pinching,” Katherine said, looking back over her shoulder and sniffing playfully. “A few million here or there. Who can keep track?”

  “You see why I wanted to go into defense?” Zach asked him, shaking his head. “One day I’m going to have to get her out of jail, I just know it.”

  Asher took a seat on one of the stools and leaned on the counter, watching Katherine work, and he wondered if Zach realized how lucky he was to have the type of mother who baked cookies and decorated for Christmas rather than hiring a professional to do it.

  “Lucky for you, I can offer a family discount for our services,” he teased.

  “That’s good to know,” Katherine replied, giving him a fond smile in return as she placed two mugs of eggnog on the island in front of them. “With all these children, I’m sure we’ll need it someday.”

  Zach nudged him with his shoulder. “Keep your coat and scarf on, by the way. This is just a short reprieve. I did tell you she’s a slave driver, didn’t I? You’re getting the fluffy treatment right now, but we’re going to get put to work shortly.”

  “She’s not a slave driver. A benevolent dictator is probably a better description.” The words came from the kitchen doorway, where a tall, middle-aged man stood, smiling slightly. He had dark hair silvering at the temples, and Asher suspected he was seeing a preview of what Zach would look like in thirty years or so. Zach’s father crossed the kitchen, holding out his hand. “You must be Asher. I’m Mark, and it’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” Asher said, shaking Mark’s hand. Mark was definitely a silver fox, and if Zach looked like his father as he got older, Asher didn’t think they would have any problem keeping the spark lit… and where had that thought come from? He rarely thought that far ahead about anything, much less another person. To distract himself from that unsettling train of thought, he turned to Zach. “What are we being conscripted to do?”

  Before Zach could answer, Mikey came bounding up. “You have to get the tree!” he said. “It’s Zach’s job to pick out the tree and cut it down and bring it back so we can decorate it.” He leaned close, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Zach said Santa tells him which tree to pick, but I don’t believe him. You watch and tell me if Santa really shows up, okay?”

  “I’ll do that,” Asher said solemnly. “I hope it’s true, because I’d like to have a word with Santa myself about some Christmas presents.”

  Which was true, he thought wryly. Despite having asked for Zach to be his secret gift exchange recipient, he still wasn’t sure what to get, and he hoped to gather some ideas or at least inspiration while he was here.

  “Thanks, Asher. You’re cool,” Mikey said. “Zach never brought a boyfriend home before, but I like you.”

  “I’m glad, because I like you too,” Asher said, and he meant it. Mikey seemed to be a bright kid, and Asher was amused by the way Mikey dropped truth bombs about Zach. “Never brought a boyfriend home before, huh?” he asked, turning to Zach with a smirk.

  Zach flushed slightly and shrugged. “Didn’t seem to be much point,” he replied, then turned as his mother placed a fragrant plate of warm cookies on the island between the two of them. “Those look great, Mom. Thanks.”

  Asher snagged a snickerdoodle and took a bite. “They taste even better than they look,” he said, then polished off the rest of his cookie. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a homemade cookie still warm from the oven. Martha had made cookies for him when he was a kid, but she stopped after he reached adolescence, and he never thought to bake cookies for himself. It seemed like too much of a waste since he was the only one in the house to eat them.

  “I’m so glad you like them,” Katherine replied. “I’ll have a tin for you to take home with you, Asher. I always make too many, so you’d be doing me a favor.”

  “She’s not kidding,” Mark said, picking up a cookie as well before pressing a swift kiss to his wife’s cheek. He patted his stomach, which looked pretty flat to Asher. “I spend a lot of time on the treadmill, working off her cookies—and cakes, pies, and cobbler. I think the woman has a secret fetish for fat men, since she keeps up her efforts to turn me into one.”

  “Oh, you!” Katherine laughed, swatting her husband on the ass, not seeming at all constrained by Asher’s presence—almost as though he were one of the family. “If I stopped baking, you’d give me those big, soulful eyes and claim you were neglected!”

  Asher watched their interaction with a twinge of wistfulness. Certainly his parents hadn’t behaved in such a way with each other. Neither had Asher behaved that way with anyone. He’d never let anyone get close enough before—until Zach.

  He leaned over and shouldered Zach. “If you bake cookies as good as your mom’s, I might have to keep you forever,” he said. Although he meant it as playful banter, part of him was starting to want a forever with Zach.

  “Really?” Zach stared back at him, eyes wide, then he looked away, his cheeks turning pink. “I have all my mom’s recipes. I guess you’ll have to be the judge about how good they are.”

  “If you’ve got one for double chocolate chip that’s as good as these, I can’t be held accountable for my actions,” Asher said as he picked up his cup of eggnog.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Zach picked up his own mug. “Drink up, and then we can head out to get that tree.” He dropped his voice so only Asher could hear. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and Santa will jingle your bells.”

  “Ho ho ho,” Asher murmured, his interest in the tree expedition growing much greater now that Zach had provided extra incentive. He downed the rest of the rich, creamy eggnog and gave Zach an innocent smile. “I’m ready to go find a tree and meet Santa when you are.”

  “I thought you might be,” Zach replied, his own smile a bit smug. He drained his mug, then rose. “All right, family, the intrepid tree cutters are off. We will battle all obstacles in our way, no matter how frightening or dangerous, in order to bring back the Tree of Trees.”

  “Just make sure it isn’t lopsided,” Jen said, looking up from the array of ornaments spread across the big table.

  “And make sure it’s tall enough,” Maggie added. “Otherwise all these ornaments will never fit!”

  “And bushy enough.” Ellie shook her head. “That’s important if it’s going to look good.”

  “Don’t take too long, boys,” Katherine chimed in. “I have a big roast in. It’ll be ready at five on the dot. Don’t either of you dare come to the table with tree sap all over you!”

  “We won’t, Mom,” Zach replied, reaching for Asher’
s hand. “Let’s go before they decide to draw me a picture of exactly the tree they want.”

  “Tall, bushy, no sap. Got it.” Asher clasped Zach’s hand, feeling a surge of unexpected excitement. He’d never even bought a Christmas tree before, much less cut one down. In his experience, Christmas trees just appeared, fully decorated, in the living room one day, and they were always artificial.

  Zach took him through the kitchen and mud room, which exited onto the back porch. This one was even wider than the front porch, and there were numerous rocking chairs and a big glider, suggesting the family spent a lot of time out there. Asher could see why; the backyard contained a picturesque pond and even more flower beds before giving way to thick woods. Even though the oaks and maples were bare of leaves, there were plenty of evergreens, their thick boughs dusted with snow like frosting on a cake.

  “We’ll get a sled out of the shed and a couple of axes,” Zach told him, descending the stairs and turning toward a small building off to one side of the yard. It had a big set of double doors, and inside were a big lawn tractor and other yard tools, while a half dozen bicycles were neatly stored on hooks from the ceiling. Against one wall were two small sleds and one large one, and Zach pulled the large one down the ramp onto the snowy ground. He placed a coil of rope, a tarp, and two axes on the sled. “That should do it. Are you ready?”

  “As long as you’re prepared to walk me through this.” Asher smiled sheepishly and spread his hands. “I’ve never used an ax before, and I don’t know the first thing about cutting down trees. You’ve got a complete novice on your hands.”

  Zach grinned. “Nice to see there’s something I know more about than you do for once,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you hurt yourself, and by the time we’re finished, you’ll know a lot about the woods.”

  They walked down a cleared path that led away from the house and back into the woods.

  “I used to spend every moment I could running around back here when I was a kid,” Zach said. “After they released The Lord of the Rings movies, this was Fangorn Forest and my friends and I were all looking for the Ents.” He pointed toward a big oak, which supported a substantial-looking tree house. “Dad built the frame of that back when I was Mikey’s age. I added on to it, and the girls did too. When I was a teenager, I even slept up there sometimes. It’s very peaceful.”