Page 94 of Stabby Little

I tick my eyes up. "Birdbath?"

Grant smiles. "It was a gift from my next-door neighbor, Jacob. He and his husband Charlie had thirty birdbaths that they used to feed the local sparrow population. He gave it to me earlier this year when Charlie's parents visited and accused him of being a hoarder."

I pick up a napkin... and set it down when memories flood my mind. I can't believe I forgot about Grant's next-door neighbors. They were an old queer couple, sassy as hell and quick on the uptake. They never missed a chance to read their neighbors to filth for their lawn decorations or design choices.

"That's hilarious." I snort as I accept the glass of water Grant hands me. "I forgot about Jacob and Charlie. They always encouraged me when I was learning to ride a bike."

"It hasn't been the same since Charlie got cancer." Grant falls silent as he rummages through his cupboard. "He needs more help getting around now, but he still has the same fighting spirit he always had. I stop over there every now and then to bring them casseroles or spaghetti dinners. Jacob says I don't need to, but I enjoy helping."

I twine my fingers together. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay." Grant pulls the ingredients to make buttermilk pancakes out of the cupboard and fridge and sets them on the counter. He also tugs out his Belgian chocolate bars to prepare my morning drink. "It came on so suddenly. No one in the neighborhood knew anything was wrong. At least not until Jacob posted about it on Nextdoor."

"That must've been hard."

"Everyone in the neighborhood showed up with care meals. It happened last December, so we organized a winter caroling session to boost his spirits. I don't know if he enjoyed our singing, but it was the least we could do."

"Miles and I loved throwing rocks at their birdbaths." I grimace as I recall my terrible antics. Gosh, we had a mean streak. "Not when birds were in them, of course. We liked the sound they made."

I picture running through Jacob and Charlie's lawn with Miles. We played cops and robbers, dodging the birdbaths and pretending they were stone barriers. Sometimes, Miles bumped one over and we paused our game to pick it up. We were never malicious and we never left their backyard a mess, but we loved to play pretend there. It sucks that Charlie has cancer. I didn't even think that was a possibility.

"Miles was a bad influence on you." Grant issues me a glare as he whips up the buttermilk pancakes. "I can't picture you throwing rocks by yourself."

"It was the other way around. I saw their backyard and wanted to explore. Miles said we shouldn't, but I talked him into it. We went there every time we played pretend."

Grant shakes his head. "Boys will be boys, I suppose. Jacob and Charlie never mentioned anything, so I don't think they knew."

"They knew, all right." I accept a mug of hot cocoa. "I caught them holding hands and looking at us out of the back window. I think they liked that we were rambunctious, making the most of their space. It must be hard to be old, not to possess the zest for life you once did. Maybe we helped Jacob and Charlie revive past memories. Maybe we reminded them of who they used to be."

Grant nods. "That's a profound observation. I think so as well."

Grant sets the pancakes on the table. I pick up my fork and pop a bite in my mouth.

"Wow." Memories flood my mouth as I chew. "This takes me back."

"What are you thinking about?"

Memories of hopping in a cab, crossing the snowy city streets, and arriving here on Christmas swirl through my mind. I helped Grant and Miles set up their Christmas tree, placing it in the white stand, bringing boxes of ornaments and red balls out of the attic.

Linda always chastised me for handling the balls incorrectly, but Miles told me not to pay her any mind. We munched on candy canes and poured our hearts into the task, wrapping velvety gauze around the trunk and adorning it with popcorn strings.

By the end of the night, we wanted nothing more than to snuggle up on the sofa and watch a Christmas movie.Rudolphwas Miles's favorite and mine wasSanta Claus Comes To Town. I enjoyed seeing Santa's origin story and the dwarves in the North Pole who helped him discover his powers. The choppy animation was kitschy, but it kept my eyes glued to the TV the entire time.

"Christmas." I take a sip of hot chocolate. "Decorating the tree. Watching animated movies."

Grant prepares his pancakes. "Those were good times. I forgot how much you boys enjoyed setting up the tree."

"Those were my greatest childhood memories." I don't know why I tell Grant this, but I can't keep it to myself. I feel like an evangelist who just discovered the good news of Jesus Christ. "My father never set up a tree. He said that was a flyover state tradition and that he refused to bring that trash into our condo."

Grant frowns. "New York lights up an enormous tree every year. We have tons of trees on the East Coast."

"That's what my mother told him." I cut into my buttermilk pancakes and dip a bite in the porcelain dish of hot maple syrup Grant set out for me. "She thought he was silly, but he refused to listen to her. He said that wealthy Manhattanites left the country during Christmas and that if we didn't spend the holidays in the Caribbean, we were slumming it."

That's why I came to Miles's house. My parents tried to get me to go to a sunny beach, but it didn't feel right. I wanted to set up a tree and set out Santa decorations like the other boys in my class.

Grant flips his pancakes onto his plate and brings them to the kitchen island. "Your father had an interesting way of understanding the world."

"You can say that again."

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