Page 177 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“I bet if you practiced as much as he does, you wouldn’t think that.”
“Are you saying you want me to get into the music business?” he asks, his lips briefly finding my neck.
“No,” I say, chills racing down my arm from his mouth. “I like you the way you are. The grump who takes care of the reindeer and plays with candy canes during sex.”
He chuckles. “Would you still classify me as a grump? I don’t think I’ve had very grumpy tendencies as of late.”
“That’s because I’ve blown joy back into you…through your penis.”
He nearly chokes on his hot chocolate, sputtering and coughing as he leans forward, a chuckle in his throat.
“Jesus,” he says after a few seconds. “Warn a guy, Storee.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I smile over the rim of my mug before taking another sip of my hot chocolate.
“Clearly none. And since you brought it up, yes, you’ve blown me a lot, and I’ve liked every second of it. Best blowing of my goddamn life.”
“I’m oddly proud of myself.” I laugh.
“I’m proud of you too, especially the use of your hands while said blowing is being done.”
“You know, that’s a new addition to my process. Particularly the massaging of the balls. There was something about your balls that really made me want to try. I’m glad it was enthusiastically accepted.”
“Very,” he says, mirth in his voice. “Like,verywell received.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. It’s always nice to get positive feedback about your work.”
“It is…which leads me to see if there is any sort of feedback you want to give me.”
I turn just enough to see the smile tugging on his lips. “From the way I came on your face last time we were together, I don’t think you need any feedback. I think you know you’re doing well.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I know, just fishing for compliments.”
“You’re better than that, Cole.”
“I’m really not.” He kisses the top of my head. “So, change of subject because if we keep talking about this, I’m going to want to test out the theory of how good I am, and I’m trying not to maul you first thing.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you did, but I get it. What’s your change of subject?”
“What are your family’s Christmas traditions?”
“Umm, I mean, we always came here to Kringle. We would make gingerbread with Aunt Cindy. We’d sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Baby Jesus Fonz on Christmas Day.”
“Really?” Cole laughs.
“Yeah, that was Aunt Cindy’s doing.” I sip from my mug and stare at the lights of the tree as I continue. “Aunt Cindy brought out her scrapbooking supplies every year, and we’d have a day where we’d make pages for the pictures we took the year before. There were pictures of us on Christmas and everything that we did that holiday season, but there would also be pictures of what Aunt Cindy did before we arrived. A good mixture. I enjoyed the scrapbooking. That was fun. And then on Christmas, Taran and I would have to wait in our rooms until we were called down. Mom, Dad, and Aunt Cindy would stand at the bottom of the stairs, recording us as we came down the stairs and saw all the gifts. I don’t know how Mom and Dad did it, but we always had the best Christmases with the best presents. What about you?”
“Same,” he says softly. “Well, about the presents, not about the scrapbooking or singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to the Fonz masquerading as baby Jesus.” We both laugh. “They were thoughtful with their gifts. Some of my favorites were things I never thought about wanting.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Well, there was this marble baseball game my dad got me one year. It’s a piece of wood that has been lasered into, turned into a baseball field, with a scoreboard, and a little chart spelling out different rolls of dice up top and what they meant. So if I rolled two ones, that would be ahome run. Or a two and a three, that would be a strikeout. It was all luck, but oh my God, we had so much fun playing. And we would play every Christmas Eve eve.”
“Christmas Eve eve? Why then?”
“Because Christmas Eve was about the town, but Christmas Eve eve was about us as a family. For the past ten years, I’ve taken the game over to Max’s place, and we usually play until very late at night. We’ll do a whole playoff bracket. We name the teams and work through the bracket until we get to the World Series. The last three years, Max has won, but I’m thinking this year I can claim the title.”
“I love that,” I say. “Is that the one thing you kept doing every year?”
