Christmas Tales - Brandon Witt Page 0,20
make me miserable.
* * *
I was pouring coffee into a thermos, getting ready to hop in my truck and drive down to the barn, when I noticed a service van pull up to Raymond’s house. I was not staring at Raymond’s house through my kitchen window at the time. I was merely checking cloud cover.
Within a few seconds, Raymond practically bounded out of his front door to greet the van. Wearing clothes. Interesting.
God damn it. He looked happy. Like a kid on Christmas morning. Probably was planning a magic brownie-induced orgy with the service men.
The fucker.
Betraying me, my gaze left the window and landed on the Pyrex casserole dish that had lain clean and waiting by the sink.
It had mocked me many times over the past several days. Letting me know clearly that I had a reason to go to Raymond’s house. One that didn’t involve hands on my shoulder, possible kisses, or floppy cocks.
“Well, fine, Pyrex, have it your way.” I slammed the thermos down on the counter and grabbed the casserole dish. I was three-quarters of the way down to Raymond’s before I thought about what I was doing.
How was I going to talk to him in the middle of whatever the service men were there for?
What if he was annoyed I showed up and ruined him offering them pot-laden brownies?
I could’ve saved the dish for when I knew he was alone, increase the likelihood of making that cock not so floppy.
I nearly turned around and went back. But what if he’d seen me? Then I was certain he’d make a big deal of me coming down to see him and chickening out. That was probably exactly how he’d say it. Chickening out. Probably complete with egg-laying noises, while claiming he was just being demonstrative of my love of show chickens.
The fucker.
I pounded on his front door, then realized how forceful I’d been. I knocked again, this time like a normal person.
It took longer for him to answer than the other time I was here. Probably making sure the service boys had their clothes back on.
I had no business being there. I shouldn’t even—
The door swung open, and Raymond poked his head out. He flinched a bit, then smiled. “Hi! Samuel. What a great surprise. Come on in.” He stood back, letting me enter.
“I, uhm….” I held out the dish. “Here. I washed this for you. Thank you for the food.” Why had I chosen to do this?
He took the dish, still smiling. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Pardon?”
“You’re just wearing a sweater. You’ve got to be freezing.”
Well, damn it. I was. I’d not even noticed on my walk over. The fires of fury blocked out the weather, apparently. “Nah. Feels good.”
He gave me a look.
Why the hell couldn’t my father have bought this land? I never would’ve had to go through his torment.
“Well, I’ll let you go. I just wanted to drop this off, and it looks like you have company. So….”
Raymond’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah. I’m getting the battery installed today.”
“Okay.” No clue.
He pointed downward. “It’s in the basement. It will store energy from the solar panels and the wind turbines when they’re installed. It’s brand-new technology. And crazy expensive. It should get me off grid. If not, then I’ll get another one.”
“Oh, great.” I didn’t understand his obsession with being off grid, I wasn’t even entirely sure I got the point, but he seemed happy. “Well, I’ll let you go.”
“It’s great to see you, Samuel. Sorry I’m a bit busy at the moment, but—oh!” He grabbed my shoulder quickly, but not like the other night. “I have something for you. Be right back.”
He rushed out of the room and came back less than thirty seconds later, a square pan in his hands. “I told you I’d make you brownies. And don’t worry, they’re not the magic kind.” He shoved them toward me.
I took them on reflex and nearly dropped them as they almost burned my hands. “They’re frozen.”
“Yeah. I made them a couple of days ago. Wasn’t sure when I’d get to see you again.”
I nearly reminded him that I was his only neighbor. That I could see his house from my kitchen window. I didn’t. Games. The fucker was playing games. I wasn’t sure why, but they were games nonetheless. I gripped the pan tighter, ignoring the cold ache it shot to my bones. Of course I’d not even worn gloves. Moron. “Thank you. I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”
He shrugged. “They’re okay. Wait till you try