It’s Christmas Everywhere But Here (4 page)

“Really? It’s just all about the sex for you?” Russ kept his voice low.

Max shrugged. “No?” He shrugged again and straightened to lean his hip on the counter. “I like sex, don’t get me wrong. It’s just never moved beyond that. Never found anyone who wasn’t annoying the hell out of me after the third week.”

“Seriously?”

“Truth. One of my friends says I’ve just never formed an emotional attachment to anyone. And I’ve tried everything.”

“Everything.” Russ narrowed his gaze at his brother.

“Everything, man.” Max nodded, his smile lopsided. Then he caught the look on Russ’s face, and his mouth pursed into an “Oh.” “I, um, you know, don’t take that wrong….”

“And how
should
I take it?”

“Papa? Aren’t the snacks ready,
yet
?” Emily appeared in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrows arched up toward her hairline.

“Dude, she totally gets that look from you.” Max snagged the tray of snacks and turned toward his niece with a smile. “I’ve got this. Em, can you grab napkins and the paper plates?”

“Sure!”

Russ started bagging up everything that hadn’t gone onto the trays. At least they would get a couple hours of quiet while Doris and Randall were gone to church. Maybe he and Max could talk or, more likely, play a game with Emily.

“Papa, aren’t you coming?” Emily was back and, heaven help him, tapping her foot on the hardwood.

“I’m cleaning up. What’re you so impatient about?”

“I found where Uncle Max hid the Risk board. I want to play.”

Russ aborted his groan with a smile. “What? Why me? You have fresh blood here.”

“You’re harder to beat than Grandpa or Uncle Max.”

“Peachy.” Russ shut the refrigerator door and mimicked her pose. “I’ll make you a deal.”

Her lips pursed and her brows knit together. “Go on.”

“We try to play cards with Austin while Grandma and Grandpa are at church.”

“Okay.”

“And you have to have a handicap for Risk.”

“No fair! I already agreed!”

Russ stuck his tongue out at her and chased his daughter into the living room.

P
RESENTS
WERE
under the tree, the gifts for the stockings primed for once the kids were in bed, and everyone was stuffed on leftover clam chowder and homemade bread.

Max had been coaxed into playing the piano, and even Austin had joined in the caroling, though he had lost interest after his hearty rendition of “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells.” Nice to see some things never went out of style.

Russ sat on the edge of the bed Austin was using, flipping his phone through his fingers while they waited for Austin to finish brushing his teeth.

“Do you miss Daddy?” Emily wrapped around his arm. Russ leaned his head against hers.

“Every day.”

“I asked Santa for him for you.”

“What?” Russ lifted his head, blinking and wiping away the stray strands of Em’s hair that were caught in his stubble.

“I left a letter for Santa with the milk and cookies that Uncle Max ate to make Grandma happy. Asking Santa to bring Daddy home for you. So you would be happy again.”

“Emmy….”

She frowned at him. “Was that wrong?”

“No, sweetheart. Just—am I that sad?”

She nodded. “You smile a lot for us, but when you think we’re asleep you sigh a lot.”

Russ kissed her temple. “Your dad does need to come home. So you can stop being a mini grown-up and go back to being my sweet little girl.
I’m
supposed to be taking care of
you
.” He wrapped his arms around her and fell sideways onto the bed.

It earned him a girlish giggle and a smile.

“I get sad too,” she reassured him. “But I have you and Austin, and you always make me laugh.”

“Like this?” He blew a raspberry on her cheek.

“My bed!”

Austin was done brushing his teeth, except for the white foam on the corner of his mouth. Russ handed him a tissue to wipe it off.

“Sorry, Aus. We were just waiting for you.” He got Austin settled on one side and Emily on the other. “Okay, so, why doesn’t Emily go first, then you, Aus, then me, then we’ll all say Merry Christmas together, okay?”

They agreed to the plan, and Russ dialed the number for Dave’s voice mail.

“Hey, Daddy, it’s Emmy! We’re at Russ’s parents’ house and having an okay time. We miss you bunches and wish you were here with us for Christmas.”

Russ moved the phone over to Austin. Austin, for his part, just stared at it.

“Aus? Were you gonna say something?” Austin tucked his face into Russ’s side.

“Okay, well, Austin is tired but….”

“MerryChristmasDaddy.” Austin shoved his face toward the phone, then hid it back in Russ’s arm again.

“Heh. The kids miss you a lot, Dave. I miss you too. We can’t wait to see you. We hope you have a Merry Christmas, wherever you are tonight. So from all of us, okay, guys, ready? One, two, three.”

And in unison they all shouted, “Merry Christmas!”

Russ ended the call, making sure the recording had saved.

Austin crawled into bed without fuss, pulling the covers up over his head before Russ could kiss him. Russ shook his head and rubbed the shoulder bump. “G’night, Aus.”

Emily gave him a kiss and a hug. “G’night, Papa.”

“Night, Ems.”

He tucked them in, shut off the light, and left the door partly open, knowing that at least one of them would be down the hall and into his bed before the night was over.

Max already had the stockings stuffed, so Russ said good night and headed down the hall.

Russ moved through his evening routine: wash face, brush teeth, floss teeth.

Stare at self in mirror and wonder how you made it through the day.

Russ bent forward until his head pressed against the glass. This was always the worst moment, heading out of the bathroom to a cold, empty bed that should have held two.

He pulled in a breath to combat the tightness in his chest. Couldn’t he go back to the park that morning? With Austin having fun. With Austin having a
conversation
. With Russ able to laugh and play and breathe without second-guessing every action in the face of his mother’s disapproval.

And then to come back to the house, whose every corner radiated disappointment of him, his sexuality, his parenting. To sit and try to ignore the tree and the presents because that was a reminder this was the second Christmas with Dave overseas. And now he had the weight of
that
pressing him down into another night of sleeping alone.

Russ pulled back to stare at his own reflection. Had those tired lines always been there? Or were they new?

“Santa, if you are real, and if there’s a way….” The knock on the door made him jump.

“Russ?”

He pulled the door open to find Max. “Yeah?”

“Were you talking to someone?”

“I, uh….” Russ scrubbed a hand over his face. “Santa?” He scrunched up his face, anticipating his brother’s reaction.

“He only answers good little boys.”

“So we know you’re SOL.”

Max laughed, and Russ relaxed.

“Asking him for David?”

“Yeah.”

Max clapped him on the shoulder. “I hope he comes through for you, man.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I, um….” Russ rubbed at his face again. “Sorry.”

“You’re tired, man. Go to bed.”

“I don’t want to.”

Max’s left eyebrow climbed toward his hairline. “Why?”

Russ glanced down the hall toward the kids’ room. “Because I hate going to sleep in an empty bed. Because I’m going to wake up on Christmas alone. Again.” Russ brought his hand up before Max saw the tears. Max hugged him anyway. Russ finally gave in, wrapping one arm around his brother.

They stood together, quiet, until the hug got awkward, and Max pulled away.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” Max’s fist lightly bumped Russ’s shoulder. “Soon, though, right? End of January?”

“Yeah.”

“Then think about it this way. Every night is one night closer to David coming home.”

“I hadn’t looked at it like that.”

“Now you have. Now get out of the way, ’cause I gotta piss.”

Russ stepped out into the hall shaking his head.

The bed was still cold and empty. The pillows were wrong, and the light from the clock too bright.

And tomorrow was still Christmas, and he’d still miss Dave, but it would be one day closer to Dave being home.

And if Santa was real, he really wouldn’t mind finding Dave under the tree in the morning.

And as long as Russ was dreaming, they would be alone in the house with Dave wearing nothing more than the wrapping paper.

T
HE
SOUND
Austin made as he shoved his sister away wasn’t a word, but the meaning was clear.

“Austin!” Doris sat up in her chair, her finger out.

“Mom.” Russ reached out and put his hand on her arm.

Emily sat, frozen, the present in her hand still extended toward her brother.

“Em, he’s obviously done with presents for the moment. Why don’t you just skip him for now.”

“Russell, he shoved her.”

Emily put the present back under the tree, and Russ leaned against the pillow protecting his back from the stone hearth. “Austin, you want to come sit here next to me?”

At the side of Randall’s armchair, Austin had his DS out, fingers poking furiously at the buttons. His gaze wandered up, not actually to Russ’s face but across the floor to where Russ’s legs were stretched out.

He moved quickly to sit at Russ’s side, his back to Russ and the rest of the room. As soon as he was seated, the faint music of the game started up again. Russ smiled fondly at the dark curls before tugging up the red hood of the sweatshirt. Austin didn’t fight him, in fact scooted more firmly against him.

The sweatshirt was a badge of honor for Russ’s solo parenting, an item of clothing that Austin would willingly wear that he hadn’t picked out for himself.

The raging tyrannosaur on the front probably helped.

“Russell,” Doris hissed at him, as if it was a secret that Max and Randall hadn’t witnessed.

“It’s okay, Grandma.” Emily was there, holding out a present to her. “He just wanted me to leave him alone.”

“He should use his words. He should use his words, Russell.”

“Sometimes he can’t. Let it drop, Mom.” Russ ignored his mother’s insistent disapproval and smiled up at his daughter as she brought a present over to him. “Thanks, Em.”

“Hey, Emmy the Elf, don’t I get anything?” Max, ensconced on the couch, gave her the pouty face.

“I’m not an elf.” She sat primly down next to the present she’d chosen for herself. It wasn’t paper that Russ recognized.

“Who’s that from, Emily?”

She checked the label. “Uncle Max.”

“Who doesn’t get a present.” Max’s lower lip was out.

“Maxwell, stop being a pest and take some pictures.” Randall shook his head and pulled out the windbreaker with the Navy logo on it. “Oh, Russell, thanks!”

“Sure. That’s technically from David and me, but he doesn’t know I bought you Navy gear, so he can’t complain about it.”

“Hah.” Randall stood up to try it on. “Great fit. It’ll be nice for those morning walks. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“Uncle Max!” Emily squealed, hopping up to her feet in a crunch of scattering wrapping paper. “This is perfect!”

Max, his fancy camera trying to capture Doris opening her gift, grunted when his niece collided with his midsection.

Emily was hugging him, jumping, and thanking him simultaneously. Max looked a little bewildered.

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

“Look what he got me, Dad, look!” Emily, her face alight, shoved the thick book toward Russ.

“A book on code breaking? The way you reacted, I wondered if One Direction was in there.”

“Ruuuusss.” She hit him on the shoulder and snatched the book back. “This is awesome, Uncle Max!” Ignoring the remaining presents, she plopped down and started flipping through the pages of the book.

“How’d you come up with that?” Russ looked up at his brother.

“You said she liked puzzles. Code breaking is all about puzzles. I thought she’d enjoy it.”

“Well, I’d say you just earned favorite uncle status.”

“Gotta be on her good side when she takes over the world, you know.”

Russ nodded agreement. “Seriously.”

Doris opened her package finally, to reveal a CD of her favorite Christian artist. Russ fervently hoped they wouldn’t be treated to a performance of it later.

Emily would not be coaxed from her book, so Max crawled under the tree to fetch presents for himself and Russ.

Max’s gift contained the oldest, crummiest camera case Russ had been able to find and a gift certificate for an upscale bag seller for him to get a new camera bag. Max thanked him by bouncing a ball of gift wrap off his head.

“What’d you get, Russ?” Doris asked.

Russ finished peeling back the paper. “Oh. A biography of Ansel Adams. Thanks, Dad.”

“Sure. I know you like his art.”

“Emmy. Presents?” Russ nudged her with his knee. She reluctantly set the book down.

Randall, Doris, and Max all got presents. Emily fished under the tree for herself when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” she announced, standing and stepping toward the hall.

As a parent, Russ had learned to differentiate the sounds his kids made. He could tell Austin’s tired cry apart from the shocked/hurt cry. He had learned to differentiate Emmy’s “I can’t solve this homework” frustrated shriek apart from her “boy crush on the TV” squeal.

The sound he heard her make from down the hall he didn’t recognize. It went high and surprised, then cut out short. Out on the porch, the dogs barked at the noise, pawing and scratching at the sliding-glass door. The cases from Russ’s new DVDs clattered as he got up, but he stumbled on anyway, throwing himself around the corner to the front hall.

“Emmy? Are you oh—oh God.” He caught himself on the corner of the wall. Emmy was in the arms of a tall man in combat fatigues. “David?”