Page 16 of The Winging It Holiday Special

She shrugged. “At some point she’ll need to come visit. Plane tickets… maybe I’ll take a page out of your book and save for a Rhine river cruise or something.”

“I bet she’d like that.”

“I would too.”

They ended up wandering the mall together for another hour, batting gift ideas back and forth. Dante didn’t find anything for Gabe, but checked off the rest of his list, and Michelle found things for a few friends.

He was just regretting his offer to carry her bags when they walked past the massage chairs set up outside the department store, and she chuckled at them. “God, I remember when we were in high school, we used to think we were so cool to rent the massage chair for ten minutes.”

“I don’t think it’s cool anymore,” Dante said. “But I do think a massage sounds awesome.” He paid for two chairs for ten minutes and they flopped down with all their purchases.

It took Dante all of forty seconds to make a noise no one other than his husband had heard in years. Whoops. “Either these chairs are, like, the next level of evolution from the ones they used to have, or they’re just better now that I have aches and pains.”

Michelle had her eyes closed in bliss. “We should use this time to brainstorm gifts for your husband. Did you see anything you thought he might like? Anything that sparked, I don’t know, a completely different direction? There has to be something.”

Sighing, Dante stared up at the mall ceiling. Was that a cobweb? “There is something,” he agreed, inhaling nervously.

“Yeah?” She swiveled her head and propped her head on her hand. “So what’s the problem?”

Dante’s mouth twitched into a wry smile. “They don’t sell babies at the mall.” Or anywhere else. Which was for the best.

“Ohhhh.” Michelle digested that for a minute. “Yeah. I don’t have any advice for that one. Rob had a vasectomy.”

Dante waved his hand. “It’s okay. He hasn’t actually gotten around to admitting it out loud yet.” Then he paused. “And it’s probably like with pets anyway. You shouldn’t get them as gifts.”

“No refunds, no exchanges.” Michelle flexed her toes toward the ceiling. “Oh my God, is this thing massaging your ass? Because it feels amazing. Think I could get one shipped to London?”

Dante didn’t sit bolt upright, but that was mostly because he was too comfortable. “Michelle, you are a genius.”

8. December

SO FORonce, Dante actually got his Christmas shopping done early. As a bonus, he’d made a hilarious new friend who he had hoodwinked into becoming a hockey fan, which he considered a personal victory.

The rest of December rushed by. Somehow the house got decorated. It snowed six times—always while they were in town—and Dante cleared the driveway twice before he gave in and bribed Mike from down the lane to do it with his tractor. It cost him glass seats for the next time the Montreal Voyageurs were in town.

He was considering making it a standing arrangement. He should’ve thought about driveway length when they were house shopping.

Hockey was a work in progress. After a Cup win and another two deep runs, the Dekes had to unload some salary. Now they were a couple years into a rebuild and starting to pick up steam again, but they were still firmly middle of the standings.

Dante had a complicated relationship with his feelings about it. There was only so much management could do. Gabe and Dante had no-movement clauses. They also represented a lot of the team’s salary. From a hockey standpoint, that limited front office’s options to make the team more competitive. From a personal standpoint, Dante super was not interested in getting traded away from his husband or vice versa.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Gabe said.

They were sitting in a hotel room in Toronto, watchingThe Holidayand bantering about whether Jude Law or Jack Blackmade the more compelling love interest. They both knew it was Jack Black, but the format of the argument was a familiar comfort. Apparently Dante had been neglecting to keep up his side, however. Largely because he didn’t want to outright state that Jude Law’s main draw was his adorable children.

“Uh,” he said.

Gabe snorted and paused the movie.

Crap. Now he’d have to come up with something. “Just thinking,” he said. “What if we got traded to Tampa and never had to shovel snow again?”

“You don’t shovel snow anymore now,” Gabe pointed out. “You hired Mike for that. And Tampa had to do tantric yoga just to get their current roster under the cap.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you not happy with how we’re playing?”

“Areyouhappy with how we’re playing?” They’d lost three of the last four and only managed an overtime win against a Toronto team that was exhausted from a back-to-back. But he answered Gabe’s question before he could jump to conclusions. “I don’t actually want to get traded. I was just thinking that what’s good for me and what’s good for the team aren’t the same anymore.”

For a moment Gabe simply looked at him. Then he set the remote on the nightstand. “You know that happens to everyone eventually.”

Dante did know that. And Gabe had definitely wrestled with that too, while recovering from his second surgery. Dante had talked him through it in his own uniquely branded way:You put this team on your back and carried us enough times. And you will again, but you can’t carry us with a broken leg.

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