Page 253 of Wrath

He nods. "It's good." He pulls out his phone and looks at himself in the camera. "I guess my hair is darker. I don't remember why it got cut. It was near the ECT time. I think rightafter,” he says, looking pensive. "There’s still some days around there that feel hazy.”

I run my hands over his soft hair. “Dude, you look fucking amazing. I love how it's shorter on the sides, still, and it's hanging in your forehead a little." Ezra rubs his fingers through it.

"You look healthy. Fucking gorgeous. They know only what you tell them. We're young, we're both their kids, they’re gonna be happy, and we're about to spend Christmas humping like a couple of reindeer here under their roof. It's all gravy, man. I promise."

That makes him laugh. "Reindeer?"

"Jingle all the way, bruh." I hold my hand out. "Be my date for dinner? It's beer-battered chicken. Plus some casserole that has...wait for it. Pineapples. A healthyfruit."

"Are they slathered in cheese and Ritz crackers?" He lets me help him up, arching a brow.

"Semantics."

Ezra laughs, and he takes my hand and squeezes it as we walk downstairs. "This is so weird," he says softly.

“I love you."

"I love you too," he whispers. We stop in the foyer, and he gives me a wide-eyed look. Then he's peering at the Christmas tree there in the family room.

"Hey, I've got an idea," I whisper.

I tell him to stay, and then I go over to the tree, sift behind the presents where my mom usually keeps the wrapping supplies, and reach into the bow bag.

I grab a red bow out. I’m grinning—almost laughing—as I prance over and stick it to Ezra's sweatshirt.

"What?” he whispers, sounding distressed. “Miller, what if they don't think I'm a present?"

"They'll think you're the best present. Can you trust me on that? Now that you remember how much they love you?”

His eyes look teary as he nods once.

"C'mon, present."

I stop him by the tree. "You see those, wrapped in hunter green? My mom's been prepping for weeks for my important new boyfriend. I told her all about how much I love him."

"You did?"

I grin. "Yup. And what his favorite things are. So Santa can be sure to bring them."

"Fuck, I didn't know you did that,” he whispers.

I kiss his cheek, and I hear my mom's soft gasp. I look up, and she and Carl are in the doorway between dining room and kitchen, beaming like the proud parents they actually fucking are. In this case.

I don't know why, but it all seems so insane that I start laughing. Giggling, really. Ezra gives me a confused look, and then my mom is rushing over to us, throwing her arms around the two of us like we're both prodigal sons. Which I guess we actually fucking are. And Carl's there, too, and he's hugging all three of us.

"Is that a bow I see?" he asks in his slow, Southern drawl.

Ezra says, "Yeah. Josh put it on me. Hope that's okay."

My mom crows, "Of course it's okay!"

Carl can’t stop hugging us. "It's been a long time," he says. "We're so glad to see you, son."

He pulls away and gives Ezra a long look. He rubs his palm over Ezra's hair and says, "I like the color of this. Saw it on TV and I thought, that's a nice-looking young man there. Maybe looks like his dad." I’m pretty sure Carl’s eyes are welling.

By the time we break out of our eternal hug thing, Ezra's face looks shy, happy, embarrassed, and maybe like he's about to cry, too.

"I'm really sorry," he rasps. "That I left like that."

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