Chapter 15

(Lux)

Gifts that don’t require wrapping paper and bows

“Shhhhhhhh,”

River hissed at me and pressed a finger to his lips, his face the picture of concentration as he held a purple spice gumdrop over the last possible spot he could stick a candy on his gingerbread house. You couldn’t even see the gingerbread any longer, but River’s explanation, now that had been golden.

“Picture the National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation house,” River explained. “But in candies instead of lights.”

It was genius all wrapped up in River’s snarky sense of humor.

Slowly and with great care, he placed the gumdrop, pressing just enough that the glob of frosting on the bottom would squish out from around the edges a little, adding to the snow effect he’d created. With edible glitter mixed in, his gingerbread house truly sparkled wherever the light touched it.

“Tu-daaaaa,” River declared, holding up his hands after he’d taken them off the gumdrop.

How that house withstood the weight, I didn’t know, but it held, and River quickly snatched up his phone and took pictures of both our houses before catastrophe could strike.

“Not bad for a couple amateurs,” I said as I took a few pictures of my own.

“This makes me want to do one every year and make a collage of them when I have enough,” River said as he moved around the table, taking pictures from different angles. “Then I can just add a new one to the collage each year after that and watch the awesomeness grow.”

“Sounds like a beautiful way to keep the magic growing year after year.”

“Like a great big Christmas train,” River mused, a faraway look on his face. “Think of how much one would grow if you added a new car each year and kept extending the tracks.”

“You’d need a house just for your train, that’s what would wind up happening.”

“Or you could build platforms and have train tracks running along the walls, carrying things from one room to the other when you didn’t feel like making three trips just to get all the snacks from the kitchen to the living room.”

Chuckling, I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You have a brilliant mind; may you only use it for good or at the very least warn the rest of us before you unleash the rogue rabbits and let them start chucking carrots at everyone.”

“That would honestly be more fun than carrying around a flying monkey with an attitude.”

“You could always have both.”

“Ohh, now that would be an interesting concept,” he mused, head cocked as he tapped his fingers on the edge of his phone.

I stepped back in time to avoid the whirling dervish that was him tearing into the living room to hunt up the sketch pad that was never too far from his favorite chair.

“What do you think about a colorful elf with a cotton candy cart, a flying monkey for a bodyguard, and a team of rogue rabbits with carrot launchers strapped to their backs, who pull the cart and help protect the contents?” He asked as he got comfortable.

“That it will be magnificent when you get it all worked out,” I replied as I finished putting away our gingerbread decorations, wiped down the counter, and placed our houses in prominent positions at the center of it.

I loved seeing him rush from one task to the next, too excited to take a break in between because the next brilliant idea was already bursting to take shape. I was the exact same way and could only imagine what a whirlwind of colors and creativity our time together would be, especially once the holidays were over and we settled into a more regular routine.

Notice, I wasn’t thinking normal . I couldn’t even define the fucking word. Normal to me was exactly what he was doing right now. Running his pencil in rapid lines over his paper as the first of what I knew would be many concept designs took shape. Just last week, when I’d watched his process play out for the very first time, I’d been in awe of how stunning he’d looked as he drew. While our conversations were rapidly becoming his muse, he’d already become mine. Just looking at him work propelled me to grab my charcoal and pad, Christmas lights and electric fireplace lending us all the illumination we needed.

He'd put on Ella Fitzgerald tonight, her Wishing you a Swinging Christmas album one I’d never heard in its entirety before. The vibe was warm, the accompanying music a throwback to the Christmases I’d spent at my Uncle Ned’s place, where most of our family gatherings were held. His cabin, which he and his partner, Peter, had built on a secluded tract of land that had been in Peter’s family for years, was large, spacious, and filled with warmth and love. When I’d come out, they’d been the first to teasingly throw me a glitter parade and introduce me to every campy movie they’d ever come across.

“Cotton candy is light,” River mused. “So maybe the cart should float along behind the rabbits, that way they don’t have to worry about it bouncing along unevenly behind them when they hop.”

“Are you thinking of doing a digital illustration, or clay pieces?” I asked as I set up my charcoals on the coffee table in front of me.

“I’m thinking both, actually and maybe even a series of pieces.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Well, the cart itself could be a cone incense burner,” he explained, “and I could put a hole for the stick incense on top of the monkey’s head or between his wings.”

“You could always shape one of the elf’s hands to hold one too, rather than a staff,” I pointed out.

“Ohhh, I like that.”

He sketched more, while I studied the way the lights twinkled off his piercings and a spiky chunk of hair brushed against his cheek.

“I think five rabbits would be plenty,” he murmured as he continued to draw. “Two matching pairs and one multicolored one in the lead. It would be awesome if the backpacks that held the carrot launchers strapped to them came off to reveal a hidden compartment with a carrot inside. The cannons can be designed to hold the carrot when the compartment is in use.”

“And I bet you already have some ideas of what you’d tuck away in the compartments, too.”

“Yeah, like bud, and my piercings, since I’m always putting them down somewhere and forgetting where they’re at.”

“You could get several in each one, depending on the size.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I can even group the belly button rings in one and the eyebrow rings in another, so I don’t have to sort them out when I go to wear them.”

“There is nothing more satisfying than creating a functional piece of artwork,” I said as I sketched his jawline and added in that chunk of hair.

“And it will definitely fill the spot on my dresser I’ve been struggling to create the perfect piece for.”

“There you go.”

Getting lost in the music and the skitch of chalk and pencil on paper was easy. I was glad that he no longer worried about whether I was enjoying myself spending time with him this way. Most of our gifts already sat beneath the tree, but I knew he had a few hidden somewhere. I’d seen him disappear down the hall with a brightly wrapped bag as Haven and Maddox had been introducing me to Loki-Bear, the little sneak. Seeing as I’d done the same thing and found a few interesting hiding spots in the back of his pantry, I’d let him keep his little secret for now. There would be plenty of time to enjoy the surprises we had in store for one another, tomorrow and on into the New Year, which I now had a plethora of reasons to look forward to.

“What’s the furthest away you’ve ever been from home?” he asked out of the blue.

It was only then that I realized he’d gotten up and was putting on a new record.

“This is the furthest I’ve ever been from where I was born,” I admitted, curious and a bit excited to hear what he put on next.

Now that I’d gotten a taste of what it was like to listen to the records he loved, I couldn’t get enough of them. He’d promised to break out his Black Sabbath and Kiss collections after the holiday season was over and I eagerly awaited the introduction he’d promised me to Jethro Tull. I’d heard of them, but I couldn’t recall a single song off the top of my head, something he’d promised would be impossible after everything he had for me to listen to.

“What’s it like,” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Just, is it weird to have everything around you be unfamiliar, or was it a refreshing change from everything you’d known?”

“A mix of both, really,” I admitted, laying my charcoal down for a moment so I could reach for a blending stick. “I wasn’t happy there. All my plans had fallen through, not that I’d spent as much planning as I probably should have. Teaching had always been my fall back, so I’d been satisfied working as a substitute up until the point when I realized that my artwork wasn’t subsidizing the deficit left by not working full time at a school. I hate not being able to pay a bill in full when it’s due and I’d reached the point where I had payment plans for just about everything. I knew things couldn’t go on that way. When Frida told me about the job that had opened at the high school here, I leapt at the chance to apply for it so I could make a fresh start for myself.”

“And now here you are.”

“Yup. And you’ve made my arrival in town even brighter than the glitter stuck to the art room floor,” I declared.

“Are you sure you’re an artist and not a poet?”

“Can’t I be both if the mood hits?” He asked, shooting me a little grin.

“Of course.”

He felt silent for several seconds then, his gaze focused off to the left, towards the window where only a soft glow of light reflected through thick mauve and gray curtains. “I’ve never been further than Acacia City.”

“I’m not even sure where that is, exactly,” I admitted. “North of here, right?”

“Northwest.”

“Oh, okay,” I nodded. “I’ve seen the signs, but I hadn’t gotten the itch to follow them. Anything worth checking out?”

“A few galleries, some amazing restaurants, a huge movie theater with seats that recline and the comic and video game shop that’s tempted me into spending way more than I should have on far more occasions than I can count,” he rattled off.

“Oh boy, promise me you won’t take me in there until my wallet recovers from the holidays,” I begged.

“Believe me when I say that I won’t even look in its direction until my bank account rebounds from everything I splurged on this season,” he replied. “And I don’t just mean the decorations.”

“Sounds like you had about as much fun online shopping as I did.”

“This is the first year in a long time that I really felt like I had something to celebrate,” River admitted as the first song of the Kenny Rogers-Dolly Parton album, Once Upon a Christmas, began to fill the room. “I’d always order things for the kids and Meadow, but I never felt like doing anything for myself, until now.”

“Is it because you have Haven home to celebrate with?”

“Yeah, definitely, but it’s not just that, either, though it’s a big part of it,” River explained. “We’ve finally gotten things here turned in a positive direction, not just with profits, but with how close we are to paying off the loan we took out when we needed to remodel. It’s nice not to be struggling and to see all our hard work start to pay off.”

“It couldn’t have been easy keeping it afloat after you lost them,” I said. “Especially when you were still a teenager.”

“It wasn’t easy, but Meadow and I had each other, and we had her husband, Henry, still,” River explained as he headed for the kitchen, the hiss of the electric kettle heating up soon following. “They’d only been married for two years and already had my nephew. Taking care of me might have added to their burden, but Henry never complained or blamed my sister for the extra mouth to feed. He stepped up as this weird combo of big brother and eccentric uncle all rolled into one and it was exactly what I needed with Haven away.”

“I wish I could have met him; he sounds like a special guy.”

“He was,” River said. “For as much as I miss him, I can’t imagine how Meadow feels having to be mom and dad now.”

“At least she has some amazing brothers to help her out whenever she needs it.”

He chuckled at that, but it was edged with bitterness too. “I wish all of her brothers cared enough to do that.”

“You’re referring to Archer.”

“Yeah.”

I nodded, because I’d been certain that was the cause for his change in tone. A part of me wanted to meet the brother that put a scowl on River’s face whenever he mentioned him, and a part of me hoped that moment never took place. I was tempted to say things I knew I didn’t have the right to say this early in River’s and my relationship, but I hated to see anything make my new boy sad.

“I’m always here to listen whenever you feel like you want to talk about him,” I offered, deciding it would be best to leave it at that.

“Maybe after the holiday is over,” he replied as he placed a steaming mug of cocoa on the coffee table in front of me before carrying his to the end table beside his chair.

“Anytime you need.”

The smile he gave me warmed my heart, especially when he came back over to the couch, stretched out beside me and wiggled until his head was on my thigh while still leaving me room to work, not that I wanted to.

“You don’t have to stop,” he murmured as I started stroking his hair.

“I do when my favorite subject is over here instead of over there where I can stare at him.”

He looked up then, staring at my drawing, his smile growing even wider as I drew him up so he could lay his head on my chest.

“When you asked about how far I’ve been, is it because you’ve been thinking about traveling?” I asked as he settled in.

“Sometimes,” he said, hand resting on my thigh, his body growing heavy against my side as he sighed, sounding content. “Like, there are places I’d like to see, but the rest of the things I’d have to deal with seem daunting.”

“How so?”

“Just, the whole travel part, really,” he admitted. “I don’t think I’d want to drive to some of them, they seem really far. I think I’d be bored and restless sitting behind the wheel for so long.”

“You can always stop and check out the different landmarks and attractions along the way.”

“I guess. It’s just an awful lot of peopling and even more peopling when I get there,” River admitted. “I love when places offer virtual tours. I’ve explored dozens of museums and galleries that way.”

“I love virtual tours too, though I am a huge fan of sitting in the corner of a museum with my sketchpad, being inspired by the things around me and the progression of styles over the years.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“It is, but it can be a bit much and distracting when a place is overly crowded.”

“Yeah, that’s what I worry about the most,” he said. “I don’t want to go through all the effort of flying or driving or hopping on a train and chugging off across the country to see something only to get there and not even be able to enjoy it because I feel rushed by being trapped by a crush of people.”

“Frida claims that’s why she only travels in the off season.”

“Smart,” he murmured.

“One of the smartest people I know,” I said. “Though you know what might alleviate the boredom of a long ride?”

“What?”

“Someone to travel with,” I offered. “I’d love to check out places with you if you’d ever like to go on an adventure.”

Squealing, he twisted enough to hug me. “I’d love to.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll start planning something for spring break, unless you think that would be too soon to work out details of who would hold things down at the shop.”

“No, it’s plenty of time to sweet talk Jeremy into doing it, especially since Grayson will have joined River in the shop by then, giving him even more help.”

“Perfect.”

“Yey!”

“Yey is right, I can’t wait to see what we come up with for possibilities.”

“Oh, I’ve already got one,” River declared. “I want to see the village in Palm Springs and the huge statues. They have one of Marilyn Monroe and murals with fairy and butterfly wings and a bunch of different street art pieces and boutiques. They’ve got a bunch of museums too. Artwork and architecture and even dinosaurs. They’re huge. I’d love to just sit and draw them.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve picked the perfect destination spot for our first adventure.”

“And it’s not super far.”

“True,” I said. “But I bet I can still find a bunch of neat things for us to stop and explore along the way.”

“Surprises?”

“I will definitely make it my mission to come up with a few.”

“Awesome.”

He grew quiet then, breathing soft and settled. These quiet moments were becoming favorites of mine as much as the ones in which we were creating.

“The next time she drops in, I am so getting Frida to tell me some embarrassing stories about you to equal out to all the ones Chaos shared over the weekend,” River blurted out of the blue, catching me a little off guard as I’d started daydreaming about afternoons in the pool and nights holding him in the hot tub while we sipped the cherry bombs and kamikazes he loved.

Talk about a drink that snuck up on you. He’d made a batch on family game night, providing an extra level of difficulty when we’d broken the Twister mats out. Even with three we’d banged into each other and knocked one another down more often than not in our efforts to place our hands and feet on the right circles.

“I’m willing to bet that wasn’t even a fraction of the ones he could have told,” I said, resigning myself to the shit he’d give me one she started launching into some of the more outrageous and embarrassing tales. Unfortunately, we’d known one another long enough for her to have plenty of them and me to have little I could hold over her head to prevent her from sharing them.

“True, but still,” I huffed, tickling him a little, but he only huffed and batted at my hands, too comfortable to want me to wind him up that way.

“I suppose you’re owed a few stories after the Prickly Pear incident,” I said, goading him a little.

Cheeky little shit just popped his head up and grinned at me. “Does that mean you’ll tell me one?”

Groaning, I ruffled his hair. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“More like dove in headfirst.”

“I can accept that.”

“Yey, storytime.”

I sighed and brushed the hair back from his cheek. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to hear the one about the sparkly elf again?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright, let’s see,” I pondered aloud. “Which one won’t leave you staring at me like I’m a stark raving lunatic?”

Shrugging he just stared up at me expectantly. “But what if that’s the one I want to hear?”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Was there ever any doubt?” he asked, giggling when I groaned.

“I suppose not, though I might have been better off not even mentioning the possibility of one in the first place.”

“What’s the fun in that?” he asked, sounding far more innocent than I knew him to be.

Between him, Jeremy, and Haven, I’d been unable to pinpoint which was the biggest instigator, but the one thing that had been clear was that they all like to give one another, and by extension, the rest of us, shit whenever the opportunity arose. I loved cheeky boys with snark, sass, and a healthy dose of playful attitude. They weren’t brats, they were just imps, precocious mischief makers who liked to keep their Daddies laughing and on their toes.

“Okay, okay, I have no response to that,” I admitted, an image popping into my head, prompting the story I decided to tell him. “So, I’ll tell you about the time Frida and I were in the woods shooting footage for a video package and swore we’d spotted signs of Bigfoot.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah, we found fir clinging to tree bark and everything.”

“What about huge footprints?”

“No, we never did find any of those, but we did set up some trail cams and some tripwires with bells,” I replied. “Ohh, and some motion sensor lights, which illuminated a lot of cool wildlife, which we added to the video we turned in.”

“Did you ever discover what the fur came from?”

“Yup.”

“But it wasn’t bigfoot,” he said, sounding rather disappointed.

“No, not that time anyway. But what we did get footage of was an awesome black bear. It was fuckin’ adorable and the highlight of our piece by the time we finished mixing everything. We ended up doing a whole transformation thing, from growly bear to sleek sophistication, where Frida showed off three pieces from her upcoming winter collection and I wound up with a stellar compilation for my video production project.”

“What grade did you get?”

“An A, which I needed, since my previous project had fallen into the twin traps of tripe and cliché, according to the notes my professor made on it.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, that one really stung, especially with how much I’d looked forward to impressing him with the video,” I admitted. “All I could think about while I was putting it together was the look of awe on his face that I’d intended to inspire. I did inspire a look, but it wasn’t the one I was hoping for. It was more like disgust and utter revulsion.”

“What was it about?”

“The evolution of a shadow. It was all dark, heavy tones and harsh lighting with transitions that were designed more for the shock value than for a sense of fluidity or even continuity,” I admitted. “In the end, it was jarring, and his face wasn’t the only one in the room with a what the fuck look on it by the time the whole film had played out. That Hitchcock vibe I’d sought had fallen flat, leaving me with a jumbled mess that might have gone over better if I’d just filmed the inside of a pinball machine midgame.”

“Damn, was it really that bad?”

“Worse,” I admitted. “But I did have fun making it.”

“That’s the part I love best,” River admitted. “When it’s fun instead of frustrating or on a deadline. I love taking on custom projects, they’re almost always a challenge, but there is something about having a deadline that leaves me paranoid and unable to work on anything else until that piece is done.”

“I’m the same way, which made some semesters a real challenge.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes I’d have several projects due at roughly the same time and have to work on them simultaneously,” I replied. “It’s hard to dive too deeply into one thing when in the back of your mind you keep up this constant chattering reminder of the other two and how much progress you haven’t made on them in comparison with the one you’re focused on.”

“Man, I feel that. It’s why I hardly ever take on more than one at a time. I refuse to take any at all in December. That is just too much pressure,” he admitted.

“And who needs that kind of pressure in their life?”

“Not it,” he said, giggling up at me.

The twinkle of Christmas lights was reflected in his eyes as I leaned in to kiss him, his fingers tangling in my hair, holding me there as Kenny and Dolly crooned A Christmas to Remember.