31. Benji

BENJI

Connie gave the police photographer the most fabulous smile she could, trying to make her Buddhist monk’s robe look as chic as possible as she held up her mugshot board in one hand and gave a peace sign with the other.

Dad tried hard not to look like a pervert in his “Pull Apron String to Unwrap Your Present” apron as the camera flashed in his face, while Mom tried to look as innocent as possible for her mugshot, which wasn’t easy considering the cranberry stains on her apron made her look like an axe murderer.

Maggie wasn’t quite sure which way to hold her mugshot, and after turning it backward and upside down, the police photographer finally got his shot.

And then there was Bastian with his YMCA Elves… and me in my Maca-reindeer sweater.

For years Mom and Dad had been telling us to crowd around the tree while they set a timer on the camera to capture the perfect family photos on Christmas Day.

I guess this year’s photos turned out a little different.

There were three blocks in the holding cell.

Mom, Dad, Connie, and Maggie were placed in one.

I was pushed into the second cell, while Bastian was shoved into the third.

As soon as the doors slammed shut behind us, I rushed to the bars separating me and Bastian, as did he.

Our fingers entwined.

Our faces met.

And all I wanted to do was bend the bars that kept me from him.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay? I saw Doc Morgan arrive, is there something wrong?”

Bastian smiled. “No. There’s nothing wrong. As a matter of fact, things couldn’t be more right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… you came for me. You tried to stop me from leaving… in the craziest, most dangerous, most romantic act of love I’ve seen in my life.” He slipped a hand through the bars and brushed my cheek. “Benji, I love you. I know I keep walking out the door, I know I’ve got a lot to process, but so do you.”

“I do?”

He nodded. “Last night, in your sleep, you shouted at me to leave. You told me to go.”

“I did? Oh God, that’s not what I want at all. That’s just the hurt coming out in me. I want to get it out. I need to get it out, so you and I can start anew.”

He smiled. “I want that too. I need you to help me too. Can we do that? Together? Can we promise each other we’ll do it together?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

I watched a tear streak down his cheek. “I love you, Benji. I always have.”

I caught my breath. “I love you too. I never stopped loving you. I never will.”

I let the tears of joy flow.

And I kissed him.

I kissed him like the bars between us didn’t even exist.

I kissed him like I never wanted to stop.

I kissed him knowing that our life together was only just beginning.

From behind me, I heard my mother say to my father. “See, I told you darling. This is the most perfect Christmas ever.”

“Darling, we’re in jail.”

“Oh sweetheart, it’s no worse than a Christmas tree full of woodpeckers.”

Sherriff Gates got us all off the hook, having pulled some strings with the Eau Claire authorities. And even though our crime came with a hefty fine, Mom and Dad were confident they could cover it.

“We’ll just go through the kitchen drawers,” Mom said. “It’s like Fort Knox in there. I just need to remember my eBay password.”

With the Chevy temporarily impounded, we were all returned to Mom and Dad’s house by a police escort, which was something my parents would talk about for years to come, while Connie got the phone numbers of at least three muscled police officers.

Before we knew it, we were back home eating Christmas lunch for dinner.

Together we laughed.

We tried to explain to Great Nan where we’d been all day.

Then we laughed till we cried.

The turkey was dry and chewy.

The stuffing was cold and hard.

Dad’s gravy had turned to glug and the asparagus had spent so much time blanching it was now asparagus soup.

And yet…

It was the best Christmas ever.

“You seriously drove through a padlocked gate?” Bastian laughed as we cozied up together in our bedroom at the BnB that Christmas night. “Since when did you get all macho on me?”

“Since I needed you back here where you belong,” I said assertively, planting a kiss on his lips. “Besides, I can be as macho as I need to be… when I want to.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, looking around our room. “What about the gas heater that keeps giving off a weird crackle and switching itself off? You got a wrench to fix that, macho man?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Or at least, I think Connie has one.”

“Really? And what about the pipes in the bathroom that keep clanging. You gonna fix them too?”

“Maybe.”

“And what about the wallpaper peeling in the lobby? Whose gonna patch that up?”

“Are you coming down hard on the way I run this place?”

“Not at all,” he said with a smile and kiss. “I’m just saying I’ve gotten quite good at marketing hotels. Maybe we could actually lure some guests here someday.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. In the meantime, I’m just making a list.”

“What kind of list?”

“A list of things to fix.” He shuffled off the duvet and moved himself on top of me. “And I know exactly what the first item on that list is.”

“You do?”

He grinned and nodded. “I sure do. It all starts with you,” he said with a kiss. “And me,” he said with another.

I smiled. “I can’t think of a better Christmas gift in the world… than for someone to fix us. For us to fix us.”

Bastian leaned down and kissed me.

Tenderly.

Passionately.

Lovingly.

“Then Merry Christmas,” he said. “Merry Christmas, my love.”