Page 52 of Season of Gifts

Mother scrunched her shoulders toward her ears and let them sink with a pleased sigh.“And that will be a great joy.But don’t imagine your mother can’t see past that smile.”Clasping both hands around one of his, she shook him gently.“I’m sorry to have given you so much cause to fret, Henry.I have no intention of departing this earth before I see the grandchildren you three bring me.”

“More reason to delay in their creation, then”—as he chuckled, she swatted the back of his hand—“if it should extend your life.”

“Such disobedience—”

His phone buzzed in a jerky dance against the side table.

Mother nudged him away.“Go on, darling.Turn out the light for me.Come back in later and check on me if you must.Make undignified notes about the volume of my snoring.”

“Only the most dignified of snores for you, Mother.”Bending across her, he tucked the blankets around her and kissed her forehead.“Nearly inaudible kitten purrs.”

“I did raise a charmer.”Settling down against the pillow, she closed her eyes.“Go charm your husband and wife, darling.I’ll be just fine here.”

Phone in hand, he dimmed the lights to a single nightlight near the doorway, left the door ajar, and crossed down the hall into the music room.

A text message from Jay awaited him, with a photo of—

“Dammit.”He swore quietly but vehemently and pinched the bridge of his nose.The days moved without a calendar beyond Mother’s appointments.Tonight’s gift was intended to be special, a bit of fun to whet Alice and Jay’s appetites.

A click of the floor lamp gave the room a hazy yellow glow.Enough light to see by; not enough to detract from the moonlit spectacle outside, the shimmering carpet of snowy gems.Sinking into the seat nearest the window, he noted the lack of a draft.Jay’s handiwork with the storm windows and weatherstripping accounted for that excellent seal.

The room held no evidence yet of Christmas.He hadn’t hauled out the decorations Mother always put up, the electric candles in the windows, the red bows and swag atop the drapery rods.The bare space at the curve of the piano waited for the Christmas tree to be chosen and cut and decorated.

Christmas was eight days away, and he was approximately eighty days behind.The room lacked the coziness of the season; his heart lacked its warmth.The flicker within him came from his gut, and it sharpened its claws with all the chaotic fervor of a kitten turning wallpaper to ribbons.

He’d forgotten the day’s card would lead Jay to such a prize.He ought to have used his brief visit to adjust the tempo, to contrive a series of new activities that wouldn’t require his presence—and that wouldn’t require him to miss the gifting of his presents.The night would not match his expectations no matter how he handled Jay’s request.The joy, the satisfaction he’d anticipated—Jay’s trembling excitement, Alice’s adventurous curiosity.All gone now.

He ought to have visited Mother at Thanksgiving as he did every other year.Surely he would have caught the signs and insisted upon a checkup.They might have headed off the cardiac event before it upended their lives and forced Mother into a lengthy, treacherous recovery.Those were dangerous times.

Jay was in such a time now, teetering between the clarity therapy could bring and the yawning gap that the family he once believed in used to occupy.Alice’s abandonment could easily have sent him spiraling, dwelling on his losses rather than the gifts the year had brought them.

Not abandonment.He shoved back forcefully against the word, against the recognition of Alice’s lifelong pattern of walking away from difficult situations.This wasn’t that.She had an obligation to her workplace as much as to her spouses, and casting his anger on her would be of no more benefit than growling at his brother for being so distant.

Tonight, Jay needed his master.A churning barrel of emotions would not serve.Irritation prickled his skin.Exhaustion weighed his eyelids.His own desires were modest: a shower longer than five minutes and uninterrupted sleep longer than an hour or two.He walked his own edge, dangerously close to outstripping his abilities.He could not afford mistakes; someone else would pay the price for them.

Find the constant.

The familiar prodding pushed him into deeper breaths as he closed his eyes, each exhale accompanied by a lowhuuuh.Drive out the tension, drive out the exhaustion, drive out the anger and the expectations and the desires.Jay was waiting for his response.Jay needed Master Henry, not Henry the chauffeur and schedule juggler and medication manager.

A kernel lay at the center of the maelstrom.He cupped his hands and lifted a morphing keepsake, shifting from the tidepool finds of his childhood to the stones of Jay’s collection and the flurry of notes and sketches Alice treasured.Warmth suffused him.His heart rate slowed and grew steady in his ears.The anger washed out on the tide of his breath.He cradled love in his palms.Jay needed evidence of that love.What could be more wondrous?

Eyes open, breathing calm, he initiated a video call.

Jay’s bright grin filled his screen.“Henry!”

Henry cast his gaze directly at the camera lens, pushing forward the heat of his love.“I’m pleased by how well you follow my instructions, Jay.Thank you for waiting.”With a slow blink, he tilted his head and allowed a soft smile.“Would you like to open your gift now?”

Jay tucked his chin, instinctively bowing his head, though he lifted his gaze toward the phone.“If it’s a good time.I know you’re real busy and you have a lot on your mind.”

Did he detect Alice’s light touch in that response?He’d been away more than a week; she undoubtedly would have been reassuring Jay that their dominant’s distraction was not a reflection upon their service.

“Time spent with my very good boy is a refreshment for my soul.”A furry line of white crossed Jay’s forehead, with a splash of red above.A bobble gave him a glimpse of bare collarbone before Jay righted the phone.“Show me how you’ve dressed for your game.”

The picture shifted slowly, first up and away, revealing a Santa hat perched slightly askew, then down his husband’s bare chest.Abdominal muscles flexed with his breaths.Familiar deep green boxer-briefs hid some of the finer points of Jay’s anatomy.He knelt on one of the large floor pillows, his knees parted, his feet tucked beneath his ass.“I can change if you want me to, Master Henry.”

Already this year Jay had changed in so many ways—but the lilt of his insecurities as they slipped from his mouth was not one of them.

“Not at all.”He stroked the phone case, a dismal substitute for Jay’s sleek heat.“You are lovely as you are, my pet.You’ve made an excellent choice.The box with your gift is in front of you?”

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