Page 60 of Gotta Have Mistletoe
King Erik
The fireplace does its crackling thing, and flames attack the logs in their customary violent manner. How have I never noticed how brutal they were before? The orange fire overwhelms a log until it blackens, then simply disintegrates.
“Father!” Anders marches toward me, and I jerk my gaze toward him.
The glare of the sun makes me blink. So does his expression.
He’s never looked more like a Viking.
His blue-grey eyes look like the ocean on a particularly stormy day, when everyone who sails on it is confident it’s going to do its best to drown each one of them, or at least make the captain reconsider his career path and contemplate the merits of joining a monastery.
“I just said goodbye to Glen and Max. Where were you?” Anders bellows.
I frown. I don’t appreciate Anders acting like I’m not devastated.
“I didn’t want to make things sadder,” I say. “Or give shots to the paparazzi.”
“You’re letting him go.”
“We were only going to be a short-term thing.”
“But now you know him. Now you love him.”
I draw back. Anders’ eyes remain narrow, and he crosses his arms.
The word love echoes through the air.
Glen is gone. Glen left and I didn’t even say goodbye.
“You didn’t deny it,” Anders says.
“I—” I consider lying. My shoulders slump instead. “I can’t.”
“Oh, Father.” Anders shakes his head like I’m a toddler who’s smeared food over my face, and he pulls me into his arms. “Is love such a terrible thing?”
“It’s too fast to love him. It’s not possible.”
“Love only occurs after six months of dating?” He cocks his head. “You’re not feeling an ache in your chest?”
“Well...” I touch my chest. It does ache. But sometimes life is difficult. Sometimes life isn’t fair. “I can handle the pain.”
“I suppose you don’t think he’s appropriate.” Anders’ tone is lighter than before, and he shrugs, all nonchalance. “He’s not rich. He has a child. He’s... a cowboy.”
“Those aren’t problems! I raised you better than that.”
“You’re right. You did.” His eyes sparkle like a fish has just swum into his net.
“I didn’t realize how much you’ve grown. I’m sorry.”
“Have a conversation with him,” Anders presses.
Hope gleams through my son’s eyes. I didn’t think I would see him interested in anything.
“Have a conversation with him, Father.”
I don’t want to meet Anders’ eyes. I’m not willing to see disappointment. “I can’t confuse the population more. Anything with me has to be serious. His home isn’t here.”
“Maybe his new home can be.”
