Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,27
when I was about eight and it was the best present ever.”
“Those sound like happy memories.”
“They are,” he replied. “I had a pretty great childhood. Very nuclear family, suburbs, riding our pushbikes to school, that kind of thing. It wasn’t until I was a bit older that things weren’t great. My parents weren’t too happy that their only son liked boys. I mean, they knew and they never kicked me out or anything, but they never really warmed to the idea.”
“That must have been hard.”
He nodded and afforded me a small smile. “It wasn’t easy. Pretty sure my dad thought it was just a phase and I’d eventually wake up to myself. But honestly, I dressed up as a different Disney princess for book week at primary school every year, I had a pet bird who I insisted be called Cher, and I would wrap T-shirts around my head and pretend I had long hair. There was no way he could’ve thought it was a phase.”
I smiled for a brief moment but then met his eyes. “And when they died?”
He sighed. “We never really cleared the air. I mean, things were okay between us and I’d like to think that if one day I brought home a guy to meet them, they would have welcomed him. But we’ll never know.” He chewed on his bottom lip and studied the trees for a bit. “They had a car accident. You think you have time to sort that stuff out, but you don’t . . .”
I nodded, because I understood that. “My dad went to bed feeling sick. When he didn’t show up for work in the morning, I went to his place and found him. Still in bed, peaceful as ever. Looked like he was sleeping. He’d had heart failure.”
“You found him?” he asked quietly. I nodded. “Oh God, Ren, I’m so sorry.”
“As it turned out, he’d had some heart issues for a while. Never told anyone. The doc said my dad never wanted anyone to worry. So typical that stubborn men of that generation don’t want to talk about health stuff. It could have saved his life if he’d just talked about it. If we knew.”
“So true.”
“I could have taken him to see a specialist.” Now it was my turn to sigh. “He would have gone kicking and screaming the whole way, but I could have tried.”
“Could-haves and should-haves are the hardest parts of hindsight.”
I met his eyes and gave a nod. “They sure are. Sorry for making you dredge up all this stuff. I’m still trying to get used to it. I half expect the phone to ring any minute and to hear his voice.”
“And you will for a while.”
“Does it get any easier?”
He didn’t answer for a bit. “Not really. You just learn how to live with it.”
God, it felt like my heart weighed a ton.
We were both quiet for a bit, but then he nudged me with his shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You didn’t put up Christmas decorations.”
It wasn’t a question, but it really kind of was. “I didn’t feel it this year,” I admitted. “It was just gonna be me this Christmas. And it all seemed more work than what it was worth.”
He nodded slowly and was quiet again for a bit. “I get that. To be honest, I didn’t put anything up this year because I was leaving, and I know my sister will have gone overboard for when I get there. But if you wanted me to help you to put up a few things, I could. I’m not very good at cooking, but Christmas decorations I can do.”
I found myself beginning to smile. “I have missed it, not gonna lie. It’s the holidays and I didn’t feel like celebrating. Being alone and all. But . . .”
“But now you’re not alone,” he finished.
Well, not for one more day, I thought. But I didn’t say that out loud. “If you wanted to pick out a tree,” I said, nodding to the tree line.
His eyes went wide and his smile became a grin. “Like a real tree?”
I laughed. “Well, yeah. What other kind is there?”
“Ah, plastic fake trees. That’s all we ever had.”
“You don’t have real trees?”
“Well, in Australia we have real trees, sure.” He rolled his eyes. “But not as Christmas trees. I mean, I’m sure some people might, but generally no. Plus, it’s forty degrees Celsius and we tend to have bitey things that live in our trees. So unless you consider