Page 13 of Just for the Holidays

Nichol had grown so tired of their sort and felt compelled to rescue the poor kid because no one had ever stood up for him.

“Oh yeah, I remember him.” He probably never would have made that connection. The burly auburn-bearded baker today looks nothing like the awkward boy in the photo. “He’s sure changed.” He closes the book and passes it back to Katie.

“Mm-hmm,” she grins.

“Have you been seeing anyone?” Rebecca can’t hold off any longer.

“No, mom.” Nichol shoves a pile of potatoes into his mouth.

“How come?” she pushes on.

“Rebecca,” Carl warns.

Nichol shrugs, crossing his eyes into the glass of water he’s dumping down his throat.

She asks him the same question during every telephone conversation, but now he’s stuck in the same room with no handy escape in sight.

“What?” Rebecca coys. “I just want to see him happy.”

“I’m good, mom.” Nichol swallows.

“I know, but . . .”

Stuart shimmies into the room and over to the sliding glass doors, whimpering to be let out on the back deck.

“Max, Stuart needs to go out.” Anthony alerts.

Max slugs through the kitchen and shifts the slider open just wide enough that the pup can squeeze past.

“Hey kiddo, what do you want for Christmas this year?” Nichol aims the conversation off himself.

Max lifts his shoulders, curling his lip, and wrinkling his freckled nose.

Stuart is back, in a flash, tapping his claws on the glass.

Max lets him in and the goofy duo trots back to the living room.

“He’s impossible to shop for.” Katie collects empty plates, stacking them on her arm. A lingering skill from her days waitressing at Curly’s Diner—in town—back when Anthony was still making his way through dental school. He runs his father’s practice now, and Katie is a stay-at-home mom.

Nichol spends the rest of their visit dodging suitor suggestions from the curated list of potential locals that his mother has painstakingly been compiling ahead of his visit. Apparently, the new Universal Unitarian pastor, Brad, wears a wristwatch with a rainbow band and shops at Kohl’s. The peak of fashionable retail for the local gay men, according to Rebecca Anderson.

Katie shuffles Max off for his bath, while Carl and Anthony abandon the table to discuss manly gossip in the living room.

Nichol loves his mom and knows he should be happy to have such liberal-thinking parents in this nightmare town, but his jaded heart isn’t interested in another romantic let-down.

“We should get going Becs.” Carl appears in the archway, a brilliant knight in pudgy armor, to save Nichol from the barrage of his mother’s well-meaning intent.

“Okay,” she pouts, jumping out of her chair and wrapping around Nichol’s shoulders, planting a long greasy-lipped kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll call Chuck about your car as soon as we get home.” Carl pulls Nichol in for a hug as he’s rising off his seat.

“Thanks, Dad.” Nichol pats his shoulder.

Carl and Rebecca say their goodbyes and head out the door.

Nichol starts down the stairs, “Night,” he says to his brother-in-law. “I’m going to unpack.”

“Night.” Anthony waves, flicking through channels on the television.

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