Page 104 of Must Love Christmas
Garen stepped back, putting a hand to his chest as though Simon had just kicked him in the heart. His eyes grew suddenly wet.
Simon wanted to reach out and undo his harsh words with a soft touch. But Garen was already too far away, so words were all Simon had.
“I’m sorry,” Simon said. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Aye, you did. And it’s okay.” Garen’s face had turned to stone in the blink of an eye. “Turns out I don’t like being needed.” He stalked off through the dressing room.
Simon’s hands shook from more than fatigue as he pulled out his phone and ordered a car. Then he wheeled himself through the dressing area and into the warm room.
Garen and Luca were at the far end of the room with their backs to him, standing beside the draw sheet, which was posted on an easel near the door to the rink. They were the only ones in the warm room apart from Gillian, who was behind the bar, and Willow, who was lying on the couch playing a handheld video game. Simon moved forward as quietly as possible, needing to get his coat from his chair by the computer.
“Here’s the problem,” Luca said as Simon came within earshot. “We Four Kings were meant to play Baby It’s Cold Inside in the one o’clock draw. They both lost their morning games, right?”
“Right,” Garen said with dread in his voice.
“But it looks like Four Kings accidentally got put into this slot.” Luca pointed to the top of the sheet. “So they’re playing Guard Rest Ye Merry Gentleman—”
“Who should be playing Hard the Herald Angels Sing instead.” Garen pressed his hands to his temples. “Which means I’ve screwed over the Herald Angels. I sent them down to the B Side by mistake.”
Simon had no idea what they were talking about. He picked up his jacket and started to turn his chair for the door.
“I knew this would happen,” Garen said. “I knew I would make a state of it.”
Simon paused, hearing the anguish in his boyfriend’s voice.
“It happens all the time, mate,” Luca said.
“No, it doesn’t!” Garen said. “And why not? Because it says right there on the template sheet who the winner and loser of each game are meant to play in the next draw.” He poked his fingertip hard against the easel. “Anyone with half a brain can follow those instructions.”
“You’ve got a whole brain that works perfectly well,” Luca said in a serene tone suggesting he’d handled Garen’s self-flagellating outbursts many times. “You’re just doing too much at once. It doesn’t matter, anyway, because we can fix this.” He unpinned the draw sheet and gestured to the nearest table. “Let’s sort it right now, you and I.”
Garen took a deep breath. “Okay. Thanks, mate.” He turned, but stopped when he saw Simon with his coat. “You’re really leaving?”
“I’ve got a car coming in six minutes,” Simon said.
“Oh.” Garen rubbed his throat. “That soon?”
Luca looked between them. “If you two need a moment…”
The door to the rink opened, and Oliver leaned in. “Luca, your team has a question for you.”
“Sorry.” Luca handed Garen the draw sheet. “Be back as soon as I can.” He hurried off into the rink.
“Okay…” Garen stared after his friend, looking like a puppy left on the side of the road.
“Can I help you with the draw or whatever it is?” Simon asked him.
“Erm…” Garen yanked his hair back from his face and held it atop his head as he squinted down at the sheet in his hand. “I dunno. By the time I explain it to you—”
“Beer’s fobbing again!” Gillian called out from behind the bar. “Look at all this foam. Garen, how did you fix it before?”
He sighed. “You’ve got to lower the pressure on the secondary regulator.”
“And where’s that?”
“Just give me a minute,” he told her, his eyes on Simon.
“Found it!” she said. “I’ll just—oh!” There was a loud clatter, then the sound of splattering liquid. “Got bigger problems now.”
