Christmas at Home

This is a work of mostly fiction. Hope you enjoy it and Happy Holidays to all. Comments welcome to Cgard43@hotmail.com

Christmas Home - Part 2

We got Ed, Melody and the Baby to the hospital quickly. Then Hank and I set off again.

"You know," Hank said in a quiet voice, "I think it might make more sense for you just to bunk in with me tonight, and we'll get out to your car in the morning. What do you think?" What I heard, more than anything, was the fatigue in his voice.

"Hank, you don't have to do anything more for me tonight," I answered. "You've had more than your share of work tonight. Hell, don't worry about me. As long as I can have a place to stay warm I'll be fine."

"Well, you can't go back to Martha's; she'll be closed up for the night. You come on with me and you'll be fine."

It dawned on me suddenly that he hadn't said I could bunk in with "us." He'd said bunk in with "me." My mind raced as I pondered this. I'd just assumed this gorgeous hunk was married; could it actually be that he wasn't...and did that mean anything? Oh shut up, I told myself. That's nonsense.

We drove up to a small, Cape Cod house with a wreath on the door and just a single light on in what turned out to be the living room. It was a neat as a pin house, decorated simply but with a style which was, while not that overly masculine style one sees from time to time, definitely without a feminine touch either. As we stripped off our outer gear, Hank moved toward me and almost whispered.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a drink. What do you say?" I smiled a rather tired smile at him and nodded.

"Tell you what," he went on. "In that cabinet right there you'll find the stuff. There's ice in the freezer and glasses in the first cabinet on the left. I'll have a scotch on the rocks. How about you do that while I tend to some other things."

It had been a night of following directions and I knew the routine by now. I nodded to him and he strode off through the opening in the wall toward what I presumed was the bathroom and I found the scotch, the glasses and the ice and made quick work of fixing two drinks. I walked back into the living room just as Hank came back.

"Here," he said, laying on the back of the sofa a robe, a pair of pajamas and a pair of slippers. "Why don't you get more comfortable?" He took a gulp of the drink, let out a big sigh and walked back through the doorway. I looked at the clothes, chuckled to myself and sat down to take off my shoes and enjoy a bit of my drink too. It was only a few minutes and he was back, dressed now in a pair of sweat pants and a thermal shirt.

"Had to get some of those clothes off," he said. "I mean, they're great when you're out in the cold but once you get inside. Whew!" He sat down at the far end of the sofa and took another swallow of his drink.

"I put some towels and a new toothbrush in the bathroom," he said. "You'll find the toothpaste and soap and stuff there, whatever you need. Just through there. The guest room is next door to the left."

"Thanks," I said, and I never meant anything more sincerely, "You really are my saving grace with all that's gone on today."

"Oh shucks," he said, giving me another one of those slow-eyed smiles. "I thought we did pretty well as a team tonight." Our eyes met and suddenly I saw what looked liked a flash of recognition in his eyes. I started to say something then thought better of it.

"Well," I said, "if you'll excuse me, I've got to use the bathroom. I'll be back."

"You want another drink?"

"Sure." I went to the bathroom shaking my head. What the heck is going on here?

For the next half an hour we enjoyed another drink and some self-congratulations on the successful delivery while keeping Ed's self esteem intact.

"Where you from? Around here I mean?" Hank asked after a while. I explained that I was a Midwesterner whose parents had moved up to Maine, but added that I had other family in New England. Hank just sort of shook his head.

"Somehow you look so familiar to me," he said. "I can't quite place it, but there is something."

After yet another drink, Hank opined that he was really tired and that he was going to shower and then go to bed. In turn, we each showered and headed off to bed amid hearty 'good nights.'

As I lay in bed I thought about what an odd but interesting day it had been. I smiled to myself as I recalled the whole incident of the pre-Christmas birth and the strong, bold man who'd proven himself up to the task, regardless of what it was. I thought about Paul, of course, and realized that I'd not called his folks to let him know I was okay. I got up and used my cell phone, assured him I was in good hands (he chuckled) and that I'd report in again the next morning. I figured I'd tell him about the baby adventure when we were both back home.

I knew I'd like a drink of water. I always like to have one on my night table...so I walked back to the kitchen and put some ice in a glass and poured some of New Hampshire's good water into it. I strolled trough the house and that's when I saw the picture on the mantle ...a close-up headshot of my cousin Jerry.

"What the hell?" I asked myself and shook my head in wonder. I was surprised and rather stunned, but it was also late, so I went to my appointed room and crashed!

I awoke with a start, unsure of the reason, and surprised to find myself in a strange bed. I lay there and wondered what had wakened me, then I heard the noise again...the noise which must have been he cause of it. I heard someone crying, or at least that's what it sounded like. I glanced at the night table clock and saw it was only five thirty in the morning; an ungodly hour for someone who didn't make it to bed until after one o'clock. Yet I didn't feel tired; I felt strangely refreshed.

So, what of this strange noise? I got up noiselessly and walked toward the bathroom; that's when I heard the sound again and now I was sure it was someone moaning or sobbing almost silently. Suddenly I remembered the picture from last night of Jerry. As to the moan, I was sure it was Hank. I walked toward his door quietly and listened. Silence.

"Odd," I thought, but told myself it simply wasn't my business to wonder about just what Hank might have been dreaming about or thinking about in the early hours of the morning. I got up and made some coffee and found myself some juice from the fridge. I suddenly heard a "clunk" sound against the front door, smiled to myself and realized that the newspaper had arrived. Some things are universal!

As I sat drinking my coffee, I suddenly thought of something. Hank's at least 3-4 inches taller than me and at least one size larger in chest size, so why did he have these pajamas and robe that just happened to be exactly my size? I remembered that Jerry was just about my size, but of course there were a hundred plausible reasons beyond that. I just knew that there was more to Hank's story than what I'd deduced so far.

Hank wandered out from the bedroom, dressed in a long heavy robe against the cold, his hair tousled most attractively.

"That coffee smells so good," he said sleepily. He gave me a rather shy smile, and then got himself some juice. I grabbed another mug and poured coffee into it. Remembering that he'd put sugar in his coffee the preceding night at the diner, I moved the sugar bowl over toward his cup.

"Thanks, Greg," he said, his voice still showing signs of sleep. "You've got a good memory there."

Obviously neither of us was much of a morning talker so we quietly glanced at the paper and drank juice and coffee for a while.

My curiosity did get the better of me finally.

"This certainly is beautiful country up here," I said, "even if this snowstorm is keeping me from getting up to Maine." I smiled ruefully and then spoke again.

"But there's no way I can thank you for your hospitality. You've been tremendously kind." He smiled back.

"Well, I suspect in a little while I can rouse Dan Johnson down at the repair shop and he'll be able to get your car fixed. I must admit I enjoyed your company and your help in our little adventure last night. You remind me so much of someone."

"Hank, can I ask you a question?" I said.

"Sure, of course," he answered.

"Tell me about the guy in this picture!" I walked through into the parlor and picked it up.

"Oh, that's a friend of mine," he answered, slightly smugly, I thought. "He actually looks a bit like you."

"Yeah, I know, but who is he and how do you know him?" He got that sort of smug look on his face and smiled a bit.

"Well, that's a long story," he said. "Just a friend."

"Could I impose and ask you to tell me about this friend?" I asked rather timidly. "I do have a reason."

He looked at me with the strangest expression, sighed deeply, and shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess so," he said, and with a chuckle in his voice, "You being a sophisticated city boy and all!"

"Oh crap, Hank," I said, "I'm certainly not that, but I would like to know!"

He looked at me, it seemed a long time, and then he smiled in a funny sort of way and nodded.

"Okay, I'll tell you about him, but I have to preface it by telling you a little about me."

I got up and poured us both another cup of coffee, sat down and waited. He swigged a bit of coffee, looked at me again, grimaced a bit and then settled back to talk.

"I'm gay," he said quietly. I didn't say anything. I just nodded.

"I didn't know I was until I met this guy about four years ago. It was in the Spring...April I think, and I stopped this guy for speeding like Hell down the highway!"

I nodded, to keep him talking.

"He started telling me how he was running away from family and all and he was very upset. I figured he at least needed listening to, so I waited while he told me how upset he was.

"It seemed he'd had some family quarrel or something, so I suggested that we stop at the diner and calm down before he drove on."

"And did he?" I asked, trying to look friendly.

"Yep, he did," Hank said. "We talked for a very long time and he told me the most unusual story. Seemed he was running away from himself as well as his family."

I guess I smiled. Well, you would, wouldn't you?

"Why are you so interested?" he asked.

"That's easy," I answered. "That guy's my cousin. My nasty cousin, come to think of it." His look told me he was curious.

"Four years ago, he outed me to my family," I said quietly. "Not just outed me, but he told them I'd assaulted him in the night which was totally untrue. It put my family against me for several years. I'm going up to Maine to try to fully reconnect with them for the first time since then."

"Oh shit," Hank said and his eyes filled with tears. "Now I finally understand what he meant that night." Then he started to cry. He wept like I'd never seen anyone weep before. It whacked me right out.

"Hank," I said, "What happened?"

It took several minutes for Hank to calm down. Here was this strong, able constable and he just said there, crying like a baby. It took several minutes for him to calm down again.

"He didn't leave here that day," Hank started. "He stayed and we became very close friends and eventually lovers. He was my life and I loved him completely."

I couldn't quite get over this story. So I just kept quiet and hoped he'd go on.

"What he told me that night was that he'd done a terrible thing to someone. He didn't say it was a cousin, but he was feeling terrible about doing it." That I could understand, although I still doubted Jerry's sincerity.

"You know, don't you," Hank went on, "That closeted gay guys are often the most homophobic. They hate themselves so they hate everyone else who is gay. That's why he did what he did to you. He wanted to hurt you because he was so disturbed about being gay himself."

I just shook my head; I'm afraid I wasn't feeling in a sympathetic mood.

"Anyway, Jerry stayed in town for a while and we grew quite close. He was the first guy I ever had feelings for and I was the first guy he let inside his closet. He found a job here in town and we really did care for each other and it seemed like it was finally coming together.

"It was about two years later that he went home to visit his parents for a week," Hank went on. "When he came back, it was like he was a changed man. In that short visit, he decided he couldn't be gay and have a life with me. He started to argue and bicker with me all the time and nothing I could do was right at all. After a month of trying to figure things out, I told him he'd have to leave, and that I couldn't live that way."

"Wow," I said. I thought about my uncle and aunt and guessed exactly what had happened. I figured Hank deserved to hear what I suspected.

"My uncle invented homophobia, or at least is the strongest protagonist for it in recent years," I said. "No doubt, Jerry tried to talk to him and his Dad laid a heavy guilt trip on him.

'Have you heard from him since then?" I asked. Hank nodded but didn't speak for a few minutes.

"He kept in touch regularly for a while," he finally whispered. "Then a year ago he wrote me that he was getting married and wouldn't be able to continue to stay in touch." He then started to cry again, tears running down his cheeks. I moved next to him on the couch and held him in my arms and waited until the tears subsided.

"I thought he was my whole life," Hank said finally. "I truly loved him and now he's gone from me forever." I continued to hold him several more minutes trying to comfort him.

About ten minutes later, Hank got up and went to the phone. He called some guy who owned the local auto mechanic shop and I listened as he explained where my car was and what seemed to be the problem. He concluded the conversation by saying that we'd meet someone at my car in half an hour.

We both got dressed and he drove us down the diner. We were still early to meet the guy so we sat at the counter and ordered breakfast. Ten minutes later a young guy walked in and spoke to Hank. I handed over the keys to my rental car and Hank told the guy we'd be over to the shop after we'd finished breakfast.

Finishing his coffee, Hank looked at me very hard and then grinned.

"I'm very embarrassed about this morning," he said quietly. "I've never let anyone see me cry before and I'm not very proud of that."

"Oh baloney," I answered, grinning at him. "I just wish I could have said something more helpful."

"You actually did," he said. "You at least gave me a plausible explanation for what might have happened that turned him against me like that. It's been a total mystery to me ever since it happened." Suddenly I had a thought and it made me chuckle.

"If I wasn't a good person," I said quietly, "I'd call his Dad and give him an earful and let him know what a great guy his gay son lost in the process." Now Hank smiled.

"Thanks for the compliment, but you wouldn't do that, would you?" he asked. I knew it wasn't a question.

"No, I wouldn't, not even after what he did to me," I said. "I just couldn't do that to another person, even a jerk like he was to me." We sat and drank our coffee, generously refilled by Martha every couple of minutes.

"Has there been anyone else?" I asked finally. Hank shook his head.

"This isn't the big city, you know," he said quietly. "There's not a lot of opportunity around here to meet someone." He chuckled.

"Well, there are a couple of guys, but they're not really my type, if you know what I mean." This was followed by a very wide grin.

"Let me guess. Florist, hairdresser, something along those lines?" He laughed aloud, nodding all the time.

About two and one half hours later, my car was fixed. I thanked Hank for his kindness and hospitality and we shook hands. Suddenly, I pulled him toward me and hugged him.

"I'm going to give you a Christmas present," I said and he laughed but looked puzzled.

"Well, it's actually just a suggestion, but it's one I feel pretty sure about." I said. He cocked his head to one side and waited.

"Stop out to the Behrens house sometime today. Ed will probably be at the hospital, but I bet Brian would be glad to buy you a holiday drink. Just an idea, my friend." He grinned at me but he looked surprised.

"You think so?" he asked. I just laughed and nodded my head in the affirmative before I drove off.

I'm glad to report that the rest of my trip to Maine was unhindered by crises and I had a delightful visit with my parents. The incident with Jerry was never mentioned which was fine with me, and we had a wonderful Christmas with some local family.

I kept in touch with Paul all through the holiday and talked to his parents to send holiday greetings on Christmas Eve. They were headed out to church so the call was brief.

Paul talked to both my Mom and Dad and their conversations seemed to go very well. I heard my Dad say that they'd consider a visit to us and it made me smile happily.

My Uncle called on Christmas afternoon. I declined to talk to him but asked my Dad to inquire about Jerry. He gave me a very strange look but complied with the request.

"He said Jerry's doing okay," Dad reported when he got off the phone. "He's married now you know. It surprised me that you'd even want to know, considering how you used to feel about him."

"Think of it as Christian charity at Christmas," I answered with the best smile I could manage. "You know, just caring for my fellow man." My Dad chuckled but he didn't pursue the matter.

My parents had a small party the day after Christmas to introduce me to some of their close friends. They all seemed delightful people, mostly older couples like my parents but there were a couple of younger, single people: two young women and one young man. The two of us gravitated toward each other naturally and had a very nice time chatting and getting to know one another. It was all quite innocent, though my gaydar did go ping when I met him, a fine looking guy named David Mason.

As the party was breaking up, Dave asked me how long I was staying in town. When I told him I was leaving two days later, he invited me go out for a drink or two the next evening. I glanced at my parents who were standing nearby and had heard the exchange.

"Go ahead, son," Dad said, "After all this partying, we're going to be worn out tomorrow." I laughed and accepted Dave's invitation.

"What nice people," I commented to my parents as we were gathering up the party stuff and carrying it all out to the kitchen. "I'm so pleased that you've got all these nice friends."

"Do you have lots of friends, son?" Mom asked.

"Oh yes," I answered. "Paul and I both have lots of friends and we do entertain each other quite regularly. It's fun having close friends."

I couldn't help but notice that both my parents smiled approvingly.

The next evening, my chat with Dave was quite pleasant but I knew it wasn't going anywhere romantically or sexually and I told him so from the get go. I'd made the monogamy commitment to Paul years ago and had no intention of going against it, even with this very nice guy. We chatted about the local area and he admitted that there weren't a lot of social opportunities.

"You're the second person recently to tell me that," I said with a smile. He looked curious but I couldn't see any reason to explain. I just tried to commiserate with him.

"There was one guy I thought I could get interested in...as a matter of fact, I met him at your parents house several years or so ago. His name was Jerry."

"Really?" I asked. "You met my cousin then?" He smiled at me.

"Well, I didn't know he was your cousin," he said with a smile. "He was staying here a couple of nights before heading down south to visit his family. We just had a drink and talked. I found him very attractive but he said he was involved with some guy down in one of the coastal towns of New Hampshire."

"Interesting," I said, and that's all I said.

"He was quite an entertaining sort of fellow," Dave said. "I was sorry that he wasn't local, if you know what I mean." I did indeed.

I'd decided not to return the rental car to Bangor for the trip home but to drive back to Boston. The flight from Bangor was quite early and my Boston departure wasn't until late afternoon. I figured I couldn't have another car conk out on and to set your mind at rest, it didn't.

I'd given myself plenty of time, however, and I think subconsciously I knew that I wanted to stop back in Hampton on the way back to Boston. Call me curious or, hell, call me nosey. I wanted to find out if anything had happened over Christmas to Hank. He had given me his cell phone number so I called him when I saw the sign indicating that Hampton was twenty miles ahead. He answered, sounded cheerful and said he'd be glad to meet me at Martha's.

I was more than a little surprised. Sitting there at a table were both Hank and Brian. They both looked kind of sheepish but they were smiling just the same. I shook hands with Brian and then Hank gave me a manly hug. We sat down together and ordered some of Martha's soup and coffee.

"Thanks for stopping by," Hank said with a grin. "And thank you for the Christmas gift too." Brian looked quizzical.

"Are you two talking about me?" he said with a smile.

"Er...," I started, but Hank put his hand on top of mine and interrupted.

"It's okay, Greg," he said quietly, "I told him it was your suggestion."

"Do I need to feel guilty?" I asked. They both grinned at me.

"Only for giving two guys what might be the best Christmas present ever," Brian said. Hank nodded.

"How about you?" Hank asked. "How was Christmas at home with your folks?"

"It was great," I said. "It was wonderful seeing my parents and we had a great time together. They've become very accepting and they even agreed to come visit when they talked to Paul on the phone."

"Paul?" Brian asked quickly.

"Partner at home," Hank answered. "You should hear Greg gush when he talks to him on the phone." Now I felt embarrassed and blushed.

"Don't be silly," Hank said. "It was neat hearing you talking to him like that, even if it did make me feel lonely."

"Let's work on that, pal," Brian said very quietly. "We might be able to help each other with our respective loneliness."

We parted, sharing phone numbers and addresses, and talked about my maybe coming back during the summer with Paul who Hank said he'd really like to meet.

My flight home was uneventful (my favorite kind) and Paul picked me up at the airport. We hugged each other and nobody seemed to notice, gathered up my luggage and headed home. Along the way, I told Paul of my adventure and he seemed to enjoy the story.

He laughed and called me Prissy as I recounted the birthing session and got very quiet when I explained about Jerry and Hank.

"How sad," he commented. "I mean, I know you think he's a jerk, but don't you have any sympathy for him dealing with his father?"

"Sure I do," I answered, "I think the whole thing is a damned shame, but there's nothing I can do about it."

We had the most wonderful sex that night. It was all about caring and loving and...well, you know.

He was amused when I told him about my suggestion to Hank about Brian, and really enjoyed it when I told him the upshot of my return to Hampton.

But I kept thinking about Jerry. And then I had a thought.

"What would you think of this?" I asked as I explained my idea. Paul, the soul of kindness in most things, got the most devilish look in his eyes.

"I dare you!" he said.

Two days later I mailed out three "Happy New Year" cards. One was to Hank and Brian at Hank's house, one was to Dave Mason in Maine and the last was to my dear cousin Jerry. The first two I just signed "Greg & Paul." The final one got a brief note:

"Had a wonderful Christmas at home. My folks are wonderful and we had a great time. Happy New Year - from Greg & Paul (& your friends Hank in New Hampshire and Dave in Maine, too!)

Don't you just love the holidays? Peace on Earth!

It was two weeks later that Jerry called. Paul answered the phone and handed it to me with eyebrows lifted.

"It's your cousin," he said with a grin and an awkward smile.

"Hello," I said.

"Thanks," he said, "You made my holidays." Jerry said, "I know I'm a mess and I can't figure out how you could ever forgive me, but thanks anyway."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but Happy New Year to you too," I said.

"Thanks, pal...and I really mean that...thanks! And I'm gonna do something about it. I'm not sure how, but you have my word on that. Thanks again, man."

Suddenly the phone went dead...I put the receiver down and sat down next to Paul.

"God, I feel like such a slug,' I said. Paul grabbed me up in his arms and led me to the bedroom.

"I am soooooo going to show you that you're not a slug. You're a Christmas Treasure!!! And I love you for it!

The End