Page 7 of The Christmas Extra

But of course, he had to go into the bustling convenience store. It took us forty minutes to leave. Fans. Holy hell, were soap operas really that popular? I knew that my mother had watched her stories for years before she had passed, but that seemed like something old women did. Tony had fans of all ages coming up to him to gush, take pictures, and get things signed. One guy had him sign the wrapper from his sandwich. No one spoke to me, but I got the impression that they thought I was with Tony as some sort of personal security. By the time he extricated himself from his adoring fans, I was beyond grumpy.

“You should have gotten a milkshake. They’re so good and ice cream always makes a person happy inside.” He offered me the dredges of his melted shake.

“No thank you.” I slammed the cruiser into drive, turned CSNY 1974 up loud, and dared him to speak over any of the songs being sung.

“The man definitely needs some ice cream.” He sighed and then thankfully fell asleep.

Every now and then I darted glances at him, re-memorizing his profile. The full swell of his lower lip, the long neck and prominent Adam’s apple, and the proud nose. He had aged well. Much better than me, to be honest. Shoving my admiration for his face aside, I focused on work. That was much safer.

The sun had sunk behind the mountains long ago when we finally pulled up to my house. I’d left a light on inside, as I normally did when I knew I’d be late. Ellery was sitting in the front window, probably put out with me leaving him inside all day but tough. It was cold and he wasn’t as young as he thought he was. Kind of like his master. Did cats have masters? No, not really. Like the human who catered to his every whim. There. That’s better.

When the engine died, Tony groggily sat up, looked around in confusion, and then smiled at me.

“You always were the prettiest thing to wake up to,” he said, his voice sleepy.

“All that time in the sun out in LA has baked your brain. Either that or it’s all the weed you hippie movie sorts toke.”

“Hippie movie sorts?” He snickered and rolled his head, his neck cracking like a starter’s gun. “Ouch. You, dear Stillman, have been living in the hills for far too long. I personally have not met one hippie in all my years in LA, although there were a few who qualified in San Francisco when I lived there for a year or two. I loved it there. VeryTales of the Cityvibes, but that job fizzled, and I went back to LA after a bit.” I nodded along as if I knew what aTales of the Cityvibe was. Books maybe? Probably, he had always been a big reader. I read when I had time. Lots of Tom Clancy and John Grisham. “Oh, okay, yeah, this place looks just like you.”

I looked from him to my home. “Thanks.”

“It’s charming in its laidback brusqueness.”

“Uh-huh.” I tugged the keys from the ignition, unbuckled, and slowly eased my ass out of the car. My back twinged as it always did if I sat too long, old wrestling injury, and so I did a roundabout hip roll to work out the kinks.

“That wasn’t a slam,” Tony called as he exited the SUV. “In case you took it as such. It’s a charming place, really. Nestled back into the woods, the exterior all craggily wood shingles, with an irritable cat in the window. If I drove up here myself, I would know it was yours instantly. It’s handsome and inviting, yet not so welcoming that you dare walk right in and put your feet up without an invitation.”

“I do not suggest walking into anyone’s home uninvited.” I walked up to my front door, unlocked it, and swung it open. Ellery dashed out without even a leg rub. Tony nearly tripped over him as he climbed the three short stairs to my porch. “Watch the cat.”

“He should watch me,” he countered as I reached in to flip on the nearest light. I tossed my keys to the side table, my sight on Tony as he slowly entered my home. A smile pulled his lips up at the corners as he spun around to take things in. “Stillman, this is really quite nice. I love the sunken living area and the fireplace. Oh, and a woodstove. Do you heat with wood?”

“I do,” I replied as I knelt down to untie my boots. My feet were hot and achy. It had been a long, long day. Truly, it felt like weeks since I had picked Tony up. “Your room is the door on the left, mine is on the right. Bathroom is between them.” I turned to face him. “I get up early and am not going to pussyfoot around so as not to wake you. And I also like to have some downtime at the end of the day, so if you’re planning on having wild parties or inviting the cast and crew out here for an orgy—”

His eyes flared. Then he laughed aloud. “Stillman, really. An orgy. Do you honestly think that every actor is a hedonistic beast?” He dropped his bags to the floor. “Or is it just me that you think is a bastard?”

“I try not to think about you at all.” And with that, I strode into my bedroom and closed the door in his pained face. Damn it. Now I felt bad for being such a dick.

No, don’t feel bad. He’s an actor. That hurt look is probably one that he has used a thousand times.

True.

Or he could really be trying to mend some fences.

Also true.

Stillman, my man, if he wanted to mend fences so badly, why did he not contact you once in the past couple of decades?

Maybe he was too immature to face what he had done and now that he has the chance he’s trying to reach out. Also, Stillman could have reached out to Tony. Just sayin’.

There was nothing like standing in your bedroom in your socks and listening to your inner demon/angel argue over your ex-lover’s intent. Shaking free from both of the voices inside my head, I stripped down to my boxers, placed my gun on the nightstand, and padded around nervously. My routine was out of sync.

Tony was muttering and thumping as he dragged his bags into his room. His door closed with a firmness just short of a slam. Cool. I pulled on some joggers, a tee, and some thick socks, and slunk back into the living room. I spent several minutes rebuilding the fire in the wood stove. By the time I had a nice roaring blaze, Ellery was back at the door. He didn’t spend too much time outside now that it was growing colder. His wandering days were behind him now. He, like me, was content to sit in front of the stove, warm our belly, and watch someJustified.

Once the fire was going, I made my way into the kitchen to feed the cat as well as myself. Ellery paraded around the room, tail in the air, meowing loudly.

“I know...give me a second.” After a pot of coffee was brewing, I opened a can of tuna and cheese cat food and dumped it into his bowl. He leaped onto the counter to eat.

“I remember when we went to Dewey’s frat house for that party and their cat was on the counters. You had a shitfit about it. Said it was dirty and crude to allow animals in the same place that you prepare food.” I shot Tony a look. He too had changed into lounge clothes, his soft fleece pants of dark gray, a hoodie, and thick slippers. The rumpled look suited him well.

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