years.
As he waited for the rest of his family to assemble to open their presents, Nick felt an unexpected wave of excitement, a nostalgic echo of all the times they’d waited impatiently as kids. Pete was the one who’d usually been bouncing on the sofa and yelling, “Hurry up!” to whichever parent was dragging their heels.
The current day version of Pete had just collapsed into an armchair, still looking rather rough around the edges despite the fact that he was dressed and showered. Adrian and Maria were sitting on the sofa with Seth, trying to keeping him entertained with a toy phone. Seth seemed more interested in chewing the phone than he did pressing the buttons.
“Right, can someone go and drag your father out of the kitchen, seeing as the rest of us are all here?” Nick’s mother asked.
Pete didn’t look as if he was willing to move, and Maria had Seth in her lap, so Nick said reluctantly, “Yeah, okay.”
He found his father with his arm inside a turkey. “Dad?”
“What?” He glanced up, pink-cheeked and slightly harassed looking.
“Mum sent me to fetch you. Everyone’s waiting to open presents.”
“Bloody hell! Is it that time already? I need to finish stuffing this bird and get it in the oven first. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“Okay.” Poised to escape back to the living room, Nick remembered his earlier conversation with Jackson. Maybe it wouldn’t kill him to make a little more effort. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“Oh, yes please. Could you stir the soup for me please? I think I left the heat a bit high and I’m worried the potatoes will stick.”
“Sure.” Nick went to the cooker and took the lid off a large saucepan, releasing a waft of fragrant steam. “Smells good. Is this for lunch?”
“Yes. It’s nothing fancy. Just leek and potato.”
“Nice.” Nick stirred. It was catching a little on the bottom, but he’d got there in time. “Look at you, cooking soup and stuffing turkeys singlehanded. It’s like real-life MasterChef in here.”
His father gave a surprised chuckle. “Ha. I’m not sure about that. But hopefully it will all be edible, at least. If not, I’ll probably be fired as head chef and your mother will take over again next year.”
“Well, the soup is safe. I’ve turned it down now. Do you need a hand with anything else?”
He glanced up and gave him a quick, warm smile. “No thanks, Nick. But I appreciate the offer. Go and tell Mum I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Will do.” Nick noticed it was starting to feel natural using Mum and Dad for them again, the old familiar names for them slipping out more easily.
Once they were all gathered, they began opening gifts.
Nick received predictable stuff from his family, typically unimaginative but useful things like gloves, a scarf, and a nice pen. And Jackson was given similar things. In some cases they got joint gifts, such as a bottle of gin from Pete. His parents had also given them a £200 John Lewis voucher as a joint gift. “I know it’s terribly boring, but I had no idea what to get you,” his mum said apologetically.
“No, thank you. That’s really useful. We can buy something nice for the flat, can’t we?” Nick said to Jackson, putting a casual hand on his thigh. “We were talking about getting a new sofa, so it could go towards that maybe.”
“Yes, that’s a great idea.” Jackson smiled at Nick’s parents. “Thanks.”
Nick had bought boringly safe gifts for everyone in his family and had labelled them from Nick and Jackson, which had felt very odd to write when he’d wrapped them the day before Christmas Eve. Yet as his family opened them and thanked them both, it felt strangely natural to be addressed as a couple.
The gifts he received from Jackson were much more personal: the next book in a series he’d been reading, a DVD box set of the Iron Man movies, and finally a five-pack of boxer briefs that were the same as some that Jackson owned—only in different designs and colours.
“Oh, brilliant. Thanks. I love this brand.”
“I noticed. That’s why I’ve bought you your own set in the hopes that you’ll stop borrowing mine all the time,” Jackson said.
Nick grinned. “I can’t promise, but it might help.”
“That’s one of the downsides of being in a same-sex relationship I’d never thought about,” Maria said. “Thankfully I don’t have to worry about Adrian borrowing my favourite knickers.”
“How do you know he doesn’t?”