Anything Could Happen (23 page)

He almost lost his footing scrambling up the steps and bursting into the kitchen, nearly bowling his grandmother over.

“Whoa, boy,” she said. “I said fifteen minutes, not seconds.”

“Gotta pee,” he said, and dashed for the bathroom.

But not before he heard her say, “Like you ever bothered coming up here for that anyway….”

Was this whole three days going to be one embarrassing occasion after another?

He relieved himself, splashed water on his face, considered going downstairs for his toothbrush, and thought,
Oh, to hell with it. I’ll brush after breakfast
.

When he came back to the kitchen, Guy was there, barefoot and in a beautifully faded and painted-on pair of jeans, along with one of his baggy sweaters. He was pouring coffee and asked Austin if he wanted any.

“Coffee,” he cried. “And we brought coffee.”

“We can have that later,” his grandmother said, opening a waffle iron and pulling out two gorgeous waffles.

“Oh, Grams,” Austin exclaimed. “It seems like forever since I’ve had your waffles.”

“I knew they were a favorite of yours, and it is Christmas,” she said.

“Oh, Christmas! Merry Christmas!” He went to her and kissed her cheek.

She gave him a quick kiss and hug and then started filling the iron with batter from a big plastic pitcher.

“Smells wonderful, Grams,” Guy said.

“Sit down. Take two for now while they’re hot. You boys want me to make eggs?”

“This is fine with me,” said Guy.

“Me too,” Austin said, pulling out a chair.

“Would you get the milk and orange juice out before you sit down, dear?”

“Sure, Grams.” He did so and then sat down.

Uncle Bodie came down then, holding Lucille. “You’re just being a silly little woman,” he was saying. He looked up. “Waffles. How wonderful. Thank you, Wilda.”

“No problem, brother mine.” She was bustling about, pulling out cutting boards and a huge roasting pan before returning to open the iron and peek inside.

“Lucille here wouldn’t come out from under the bed this morning. I don’t know how long she slept there instead of her bed. Then she didn’t want to come down the stairs.”

“She’s outta her environment, Boden. I am sure she’ll be fine.” She offered the little dog in Uncle Bodie’s arms one of the doggie treats—it had magically appeared from a pocket in her almost always-present apron—but this time, after a sniff or two, it was ignored.

“Huh,” Wilda said. “I’ll just put it in her bowl. She can have it when she’s ready.”

“I’m going to take her out to potty,” Uncle Bodie said.

“Want me to do that, Bodie?” Guy asked.

“Nope. You don’t even have your socks on. I’m dressed. We’ll be back in three shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

The waffles were delicious—Wilda had even provided strawberries, cut up in their own syrup, and whipped cream. An awesome way to start the day. Then it was orchestrated chaos as the matriarch of the family diced and chopped and buttered and boiled and rinsed and washed and cooked, cooked, cooked. She took advantage of Austin and Guy’s youth, moving the turkey in off the back porch, getting it in the oven when it was ready, and pulling it out for basting. She used foil, said oven bags were created by the devil, but they didn’t mind. There was something about her orders that made them feel more like they were doing her a favor, and of course, they were.

She made a very small lunch, just crackers and cheese and a cheese ball rolled in crumbled pecans. “A snack,” she said, “to keep up your strength.” Then she warned them not to eat too much. “Dinner will be around three thirty, four o’clock.”

At one point Austin saw that Guy had gone out on the back porch with this grandfather. Grams didn’t allow smoking in the house, not even a pipe with the pleasant smell Austin had always thought of as home. The pair were talking, and when he peeked out, it looked like a serious conversation.
Crap
, he cursed, and hoped they weren’t having another tête-à-tête about how Guy needed to take care of him.

To his surprise, when Guy came back in, he asked Austin’s grandmother if she minded if he went for a walk.

“Of course not, darlin’. You want Austin to go with?”

The young men locked eyes, and again, Guy had gone all unreadable.

“I’ll go with you,” Austin said.

“No. No, I just want a little alone time.”

Austin followed him out on the back porch. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure it is.” Guy gave him a smile Austin didn’t quite believe. “Nothing’s wrong. Remember, I’m not used to all this.” He waved back to the kitchen. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

It was with great concern that Austin watched as he walked down the steps and down the alley. What was that all about? Had Gramps said something to upset him? He went looking for his grandfather and found him just rising up from his knees in front of the fireplace and putting the poker back into its stand. “Gramps?”

Frawley was staring into the flames. “Yes, son?”

“What’s wrong with Guy? Did you two talk about something that upset him?”

His grandfather didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, when Austin was going to ask his question again, he spoke up. “No. There is
nothing
wrong with Guy. Nothing at all.” He turned around, pulled off his glasses, and began to wipe them with his shirttail. “Do you know how lucky you are to have found that man?”

Austin gulped, fell back a step. It was certainly not what he would have expected his gramps to say. “I…. Ah….”

“I hope you know how lucky. I hope you appreciate him. Guy is a very good man.” He put his glasses on, and stepped up to Austin and hugged him. “Me an’ your grams is gettin’ old, Austin. We worry about you. Think about you all the time. Movin’ away to a big city for the first time. Living a life that may be easier than it was when Bodie was your age, but it’s still tough.”

It was the closest his grandfather had come to bringing up the subject. Austin felt a little strange. Almost high. And he didn’t know what to say.

“I appreciate him, Gramps.” He gave the man squeeze.

“’Cause he obviously loves you, son. And love don’t grow on a tree. You know that, right?”

Austin barely suppressed a gasp. Love? Had Guy told Gramps he loved him?

“He didn’t actually
say
that, but I could tell. Two men get an understanding when they talk like that. He was all but asking for my blessing.” He stepped back, and Austin could see tears in his eyes. “He’s got it.” He nodded and then headed back into the kitchen, leaving Austin standing there in shock.

G
UY
wasn’t gone quite an hour, but it worried Austin all the same. Buckman wasn’t a very big town, but it had snowed a few more inches during the night, it was cold out, and Guy didn’t know where he was. He could get lost. Austin didn’t even think about the fact that they both had cell phones. When he returned, it was all Austin could do not to throw himself into Guy’s arms. But there was something funny in his eyes, something that held him back. What was it?

Wilda called them in for dinner a little after that, and it was the best meal Austin had had in ages, even better than the Thanksgiving goose. That had been fine, but Austin was a turkey man all the way.

The dining room table all but groaned under the weight of the food. “Goodness,” Guy cried over seeing it. “There’s only five of us, Grams. How’re we going to eat all this?”

“I’ll mail what we don’t eat to India. Does that make you feel better?”

Guy laughed and sat where directed, next to Austin, of course. So it was Wilda and Frawley at one side, Austin and Guy across from them, and Uncle Bodie at the end.

“Boden,” Wilda asked. “Do you want to say the prayer?”

“You know that’s not my thing, Wilda. And you do so much prettier a job.”

She blinked at him a moment, then nodded. “Let’s bow our heads.”

Austin glanced at Guy, who seemed uncomfortable but did as she requested.

“Dear Heavenly Father,” she said. “Bless us this Christmas day, the day that Your son was born long ago, and that He showed us the way. Thank You for His message of love, for love is the greatest of all things, without which we are nothing. Thank You for bringing Austin and Boden home safely, and thank You also for our dear guest Guy. What a blessing he is. We thank You for Your many, many gifts, and for this food which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. May it nourish us and give us strength. And may we not gain one single ounce after stuffing our faces. In Your son Jesus’s holy name, Amen.”

When she raised her head, her eyes were twinkling. “Pretty, did you say, Boden?”

“Prettier than me!”

And they all burst into laughter.

T
HEY
had gathered in the living room, Wilda asking them to pull the couch to the side so that it, along with the chairs, faced the tree. It was time to exchange gifts. Several had appeared since last night, and more in the last few hours. Someone had been at work, thought Austin. Maybe because his grandparents knew that, as a child, he’d liked to shake presents and try to figure out what was in them.

She had them sit down, and she forced Frawley, as usual, to put on a Santa hat and begin passing out presents. It was silly because she wouldn’t be satisfied with how he did it, Austin whispered to Guy. “She’ll wind up doing it herself.”

But as if she heard her grandson, she did her best not to interfere, and Frawley did his best to make sure everyone got a gift before going on to seconds.

Austin had gotten his grandmother a new apron, which she gushed over, and his grandfather a new pipe, which obviously pleased him. “This is amazing, son. Beautiful.”

The pair got other things as well, of course. Most of them practical, but Frawley did get his wife a lovely brooch.

Uncle Bodie got a gorgeous new housecoat. It was much like a smoking jacket, and when he saw it was from both Austin and Guy, tears filled his eyes. “I love it,” he said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Lucille was not left out. She got a new bejeweled collar from Austin and several toys. Uncle Bodie was disappointed that she didn’t tear into her gifts. Apparently, he always started them, and then she knew which ones were hers to rip open. She tried to please her master, but for some reason seemed to lack her usual enthusiasm and wound up squeezed against his side, falling asleep with her head in his lap.

Guy was obviously surprised at the number of gifts he received. Uncle Bodie had bought him a director’s chair. “Oh, Bodie! I love it!” Wilda and Frawley gave him a huge purple sweater. “Austin said you liked them baggy. I didn’t realize how big it would be, though….”

“It’s wonderful!” He ran from the room and was back in seconds, wearing the gorgeous sweater and rubbing his hand across the sleeves. It was more than purple, with deep blues and dark lavenders woven in. “I just love it,” he said and gave Wilda a kiss on the cheek.

She also gave him a big container of homemade cookies. “Oh my God, Grams. Are you trying to make me fat?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to work it off,” she grinned, eyes twinkling, and Guy actually blushed—something Austin rarely saw.

Finally, he opened Austin’s present. His mouth fell open. “Dear God, Austin.”

“What is it?” Uncle Bodie asked, as well as the others.

Guy carefully held up what looked like a thick sheaf of typed pages for the curious onlookers. “It-It’s an autographed typescript of Edward Albee’s
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf
.”

“A what?” asked Frawley.

“A transcript. It’s a typed script. This is an autographed copy of Edward Albee’s script for his play. I can’t believe it!”

Austin swelled up with happiness. “You like it?”

Guy jumped up and pulled Austin into his arms, hugging him fiercely. “I love it.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I adore him! He’s one of my all-time favorites.”

“Lot of swearing in that, isn’t there?” Frawley asked.

Guy turned to Austin’s grandfather. “There sure is.”

“Well,” Wilda said. “People friggin’ swear, don’t they?”

And they all burst into laughter.

Austin had gotten gifts too, of course. A quilt his grandmother made. A very big one. Yellows and oranges and pure-white squares and triangles. “Grams! It’s gorgeous.” He looked over at Guy. “It’s a tradition of hers. Family gets her quilts. I got one when I was a kid and it’s seen better days.”

“Children are hell on such things,” she muttered.

“And now I have this one. Oh, Grams.” Like Guy, he kissed her. Both cheeks. “I can’t get over how big it is. You usually make twin and full-size ones. Is this a queen?”

“A king,” she said. “My first. But I thought you might wind up needing a big one. You know?”

Austin’s cheeks pinked slightly, and he decided to call it a blessing he wasn’t beet red again. He was tired of how much he’d been blushing lately. It needed to stop.

He took it back and showed it to Guy. “She made this.”

“It’s what I do, Guy. Sorry, I didn’t make the sweater. That’s knitting and crocheting. I don’t do that. I make quilts.”

“It’s okay, Grams. I still love it.”

Austin also got cookies, as well as a sweater—this one a shimmery blue. His favorite color.

Uncle Bodie got him a book on Stonewall, which pleased Austin very much.

Finally, there was his present from Guy.

“God, I hope you like it,” he said.

It was a set of tools. Nice tools. Tools obviously not bought at Walmart.

“I figured you could use your own. And you could use them to help build sets too, if you’re still interested.”

“Thanks, Guy,” Austin said. “They’re amazing. And too much. You spent way too much.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t really get you much of a birthday present. I was waiting to give you this. It must be a bitch to be born so close to Christmas.”

“It can be,” Austin said. “But not today.”

“Austin,” said his grandfather. “Here’s another one for you. Why, it’s also from Guy.”

“Guy!” Austin looked at his friend curiously. “Two? The first one was already too much.”