Page 24 of Just for the Holidays

“Mm-hmm.” Teddy giggles.

“See you then.” Nichol shuts the door and trudges to the house’s entrance, turning back to wave at the little rusted truck grumbling out of the driveway and down the street, before stepping inside.

“Anthony?” Katie calls from the kitchen.

“It’s just me,” Nichol replies, peeling his coat off and basking in the hot air blowing through the heating vent near his feet. He kicks his boots off and trots up the half-flight stairs.

Max and Stuart are twinning on the sofa, both turning away from their cartoons to glare and then carrying on as they were.

“Where have you been?” Katie asks, pouring a boiling pot of pasta through a colander nestled into the sink as the steam curls the outer tips of her self-cut bangs.

“In town.” He pinches a freshly shaved shard of Parmesan cheese from a bowl on the kitchen island and pops it into his mouth.

“All day?” Katie quirks a brow.

“Yup.” Nichol flashes a toothy grin. He drops down into a chair at the dining table, folding one leg up and crossing his ankle over his knee.

Katie isn’t one to pry, but her narrowing eyes are heaped with questions.

The front door sweeps open and boots clomp in.

“Dinner is ready.” Katie bellows.

Stuart trots into the kitchen first, nuzzling up against Nichol’s calf, demanding pets that he promptly obliges with.

Max is shortly behind him, with Anthony waddling up behind his son, softly drum-tapping the boy’s shoulders and gleefully eyeing Katie, walking steaming bowls of spaghetti and red sauce to the table.

“Max, grab the garlic bread from the oven please?’’ she asks.

Max skips forward and shuffles around the island, scooping up the plate of buttery toasted bread, and swinging the full loop. to join the dinner table. He claims his seat, across from Nichol, and eyes his uncle curiously, while Katie fills his plate.

“Uncle Nichol . . .” Max chews the edge of a slice of garlic toast, then licks his greasy lips, spreading the minced chunkymess further down his chin. “Jaiden said you’re a faguette.” He twists his face with confusion.

“Maxwell.” Katie scolds.

“It’s okay, he doesn’t know…" Nichol says to his sister… "Yes, I am.” He tells max and smiles.

Anthony nearly spits his swig of cola.

“Nichol!” Katie barks.

“It’s a bad word, kiddo.” Anthony twirls his fork into the pile of sauced spaghetti.

“It’s only bad if straight people say it.” Nichol stretches his neck over the table and winks.

Anthony snorts.

“It’s bad if anyone says it.” Katie squeals.

Nichol rolls his shoulders sassily, shoving a pile of saucy noodles into his mouth, grinning and chewing.

“It’s a mean word people say about gay people,” Katie explains.

“Why?” Max slurps up a splattering string of a wiggly noodle.

“Because people are assholes, Maxie.” Nichol blurts, sipping his cola, eyeing Katie in anticipation of her response.

Anthony just shrugs, nodding.

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