Holiday Cheer from Andrew Grey and Amy Lane

Chapter 8 Our Romantic Hero Realizes You CAN Go Home Again

Chapter 8: Our Romantic Hero Realizes You CAN Go Home Again

ELI STARED at the mess in the kitchen and tried not to hyperventilate.

“Oh dear God,” he whispered. “The hell. What in the actual hell?”

“The pipes were leaking in the walls,” Leon said, sounding as stunned as Eli felt. “We didn’t notice it yesterday because, well….”

“The basement was floating,” Eli said. “Leon, what are we going to feed these kids! Not just today but, you know, Christmas. All of the flour, the cookies, the turkey—the only thing salvageable is the potatoes.”

Leon sucked air through his teeth. “Mmm….”

“Yeah,” Eli said, looking at the sludge on the floor. “I don’t know if I’d want a potato that had been floating around in that. Okay. So we’ve got a plumber coming today, and we’ve got a cleanup crew.” He looked at Leon for confirmation. “We do, right? We have a cleanup crew?”

Leon grimaced. “Buddy, I’m sorry. I think between the staff and the maintenance crew, we’re the only cleanup detail available in the five boroughs. And since you’re the one who’s going to be on to feed us all, I use the term ‘we’ loosely.”

Eli sighed and rubbed his temples. Okay. Okay. He could do this. He’d managed to survive on the streets by begging, borrowing, and stealing—and by offering to sweep or clean up for some of the local merchants in exchange for a meal. It had been a bodega owner, in fact, who had walked him to Rainbow House after he’d gotten sick one night sleeping in the rain. In spite of the fact that they were deep in the heart of the “big city,” as Andy’s mom labeled it, like any matter, a big city was made up of molecules, and Eli knew that they had some first-rate molecules in their orbit.

He’d start with the vendors who sold them the food in the first place. A lot of the truck guys were really nice about giving Rainbow House their surplus—fresh fruit that would be left off the turnpike so drivers didn’t have to pay for the extra when they weighed in, or product that a merchant couldn’t afford but was about to expire. When Eli had taken over, his predecessor had fed the kids almost exclusively off those offerings, but Eli had applied for grants so the shelter was a little more food-secure.

He was going to have to go back to the old days, he thought with resolution, and just as he’d shored himself up to hit the phones, his phone rang.

Don’t worry about presents, Andy sent. Margie sent me your list, and we’ve got a truck coming in.

He sent an inventory sheet, with the lost presents ticked off, and the addition of “handmade gift” next to each name.

Holy crap.

You’re welcome. Truck should be there tomorrow morning.

Eli’s shoulders sagged, and his knees wobbled. In his entire life he could not remember actually experiencing the term “weak with relief,” but here he was.

How did you do this?

Magic! There was a pause, and then a picture came through. It was taken from the doorway of a smallish living room, lamplit and filled to the gills with teenagers and young adults wrapping presents—new presents, Eli saw in relief, not hand-me-downs, which his kids knew far too well. An older woman sat in the corner, her lap covered with a colorful afghan. She was knitting, but her face lit up with tender animation as she apparently talked to a girl Eli identified as Mary Beth, Andy’s sister. In the background stood Porter and another man, this one freshly scrubbed and as earnest as a Muppet, taking inventory and obviously giving directions.

Magic and elves, Andy added after the picture came through.

Oh God, Andy. How did you even accomplish this?

I did nothing. I was baking cookies all day for my mother’s shindig. Porter, Pastor Dan (Porter’s secret boyfriend—hoo boy, do I have gossip), and Mary Beth and Charlie all pitched in. They called their friends, who called their friends, and Margie sent me the inventory sheets as soon as you were done with them.

Big ticket items too?

Prepaid cell phones and year-old computers—but mint in the box.

Oh wow. OH WOW. He giggled a little. Andy, you’re the greatest! You’re a superhero!

So’s my boyfriend, Andy replied cheekily. Then, How’s everything else?

Eli thought about not telling him—he did. Because this was Andy’s vacation and he’d already done so much. But he remembered that night after Ambrose… well, after Ambrose had left Rainbow House, and how devastated Eli had been in the aftermath. And how, in the end, it hadn’t been about what Andy could do for Eli, but how Andy had cared about what Eli cared about.

It had given him the strength to keep going. And right now he felt so very weak, so very inadequate to the task ahead.

All thoughts of Andy leaving him for Vermont fled. All fears of losing Andy because Eli wasn’t good enough, or because he was too needy, or because his job was too all-consuming, fled. The only thing that remained was his conviction that he was in love with a good man, a man who would love him and partner with him and who wouldn’t leave him hanging for a picture-perfect life with his adorable blond family, but who would stick with him through the thick and the thin.

A man who made everything in Eli’s life better.

Abruptly the phone in his hand rang.

“Eli? You’re scaring me. You didn’t answer right away. What happened?”

Eli let out a sad little chuckle. It was a good thing he’d decided to tell the truth. Andy wasn’t taking any risks.

“The pipes leaked into the walls,” he said baldly. “We’ve got no food, and I’m about to go recruit the older kids to come help with the mess before someone calls the board of health and shuts us down.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Andy said, sounding stunned. “Okay, baby. Hang on. I’m coming.”

“Andy…,” he started to protest, but the Andy he knew and loved was on the other end of the line.

“Eli, do you want me to be there?” he asked.

Eli’s eyes burned. “You have no idea how much.”

“Then I’ll make it so. Probably tonight. Now you obviously have a thousand things to do, but remember, baby. I’m coming. You are the only place I want to be right now. You believe that, right?”

Eli nodded and then cleared his throat and spoke. “I do,” he said gruffly. “I do believe that.” He remembered that time he’d spent on the street so clearly, the sense that he was standing on a precipice, looking into a vast abyss, flailing, nearly falling every minute of every day . He’d believed then that nobody was coming to his rescue. Nobody would grab him by the back of the shirt and pull him to safety. But here Andy was, and even if he couldn’t yank Eli back, he was fully prepared to jump into the abyss with him.

The only way to reward that was with faith.

“Good,” Andy said softly. “I love you. Let’s get busy.”

“Love you back,” Eli said. “Can do.”

They hung up then, and Eli threw himself back into the fight.

By midafternoon, he’d managed to drum up some soup-kitchen donations for the next couple of meals, and had some feelers out to some grocery stores and bodegas for Christmas dinner. He’d spent the hours not on his phone working with the older kids and maintenance crew, sweeping out the water and bagging the trash—and checking with the plasterer Andy’s dad had hooked him up with, who immediately put his other projects on hold and showed up that day to work with the plumber. Together, they were making a massive effort to fix the whole works before the building crumbled around their ears.

By late afternoon, he thought he could see daylight.

The kids had enough food to last them until Christmas Day itself. The sources he’d called were asking their sources, since this close to the day most people were tapped out. The floor was clean, and there were power heating fans that painters used to speed the drying process in the kitchen, aimed at the walls and floor. The plumber—and Andy’s dad must have been as awesome as Andy because this guy was the best and insisted it was an honor to return a big favor—had repaired the leaks and insulated the exposed pipes, declaring the whole works safe against more burst plumbing.

And Andy was coming sometime that night with presents.

Eli stood at the top of the basement stairs, his knees wobbling, his vision a little dark as he realized he’d skipped breakfast and lunch for the second day running, and got ready to go down for the final check to see if maybe the storage space was usable again.

He took a deep breath, promising himself a sandwich when this was over, and started down the stairs. He was so exhausted, by the time he realized his foot had slipped and he was falling, he’d already cracked his head, and after that, blissful, blissful darkness.

“SO,” ANDY’S father said as they stood in the church foyer. “I’m coming with you, son, but you’ve got to tell your mother.”

Andy nodded, checking his phone and scowling. “Are the go bags in the car?” he asked anxiously. “I gave Charlie and Mary Beth the presents to put under the tree the day after tomorrow, but I’m going to need some clothes when I get home.”

“Yeah,” Matt Chambers reassured him. “I took care of it, but about your mother—”

“Andy!” Pastor Dan said excitedly, hustling over to Andy and giving him and his father a droll look. They were dressed in bright novelty sweaters, lime green and pink, featuring kittens in little stockings hung on a Christmas tree. “Wow.” He blinked hard. “As good as your mom is at knitting, you’d think….”

Andy shook his head. “Don’t ask. What’s up?”

“Okay, so I told the other three churches about Eli’s dilemma, and besides the cookies left over here tonight—and there should be plenty, because God, what you made alone should feed the whole town—each church is each giving up a turkey for the big feast and a few boxes of stuffing, as well as about twenty pounds of potatoes. There’s also a couple of grocery bags with green beans, cranberry sauce, and some apple and pumpkin pies. It’s not the whole feast for sixty kids plus employees but—”

Andy hugged Porter’s secret boyfriend spontaneously. “Oh my God, Pastor Dan. You and Porter—you’re, like, the best. It’s a huge start. Eli’s asking grocery stores for donations right now, and….” He looked at his phone again. “And I don’t know. He was giving me updates once an hour, but I haven’t heard from him in a few. God, they don’t need one more disaster, you know?”

Dan and his father both nodded, and Porter rushed up. “Guys, I’ve got the knitting circle set to come over and help my mom with her medicine and stuff for the next three or four days. Dan may have to come back to Foxglove, but I can stay and do some work on the building, just in case.” He gave Dan a sheepishly sad look. “Christmas will sort of suck,” he muttered.

Dan grimaced. “I, uhm, have a gift. I’ll… uhm….” He took in Andy’s and his father’s avidly curious looks. “If you’ll excuse us?” he asked painedly.

Matt Chambers cocked his head at Andy. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Porter having an affair with the pastor?” Andy said. “Yes. Yes. Absolutely. And no, my mind is still blown, so I’ve got no words. I mean….” He and his father both flailed at each other. “How’s that even work?”

His dad grinned. “Well, son, I think that works the same way it does for couples around the world. I just think, uhm, maybe they should make it legal sooner than they would normally, because… like… God and stuff.”

Andy snorted, letting the humor of the situation ease his out-of-control worry.

“Andy? Matt?” Andy’s mother came bustling out of a crowd of her friends, looking excited and happy and in her element. “Are you ready?

“Yeah,” Andy said distractedly. A text flashed across his phone, but it was from Margie, not Eli. “Mom,” he said, glancing up from the phone and remembering he needed to be an adult now. “Dad and I are going to clear out after we sing, okay? Dan and Porter are taking a bunch of presents and food down to Brooklyn so Eli’s kids can have Christmas, and I’m going down to help.”

His mom scowled at him. “Andy, you promised me you’d come home this year—”

“And I did,” Andy said, holding on to his reason with all his will. “But my boyfriend, whom I love very much, is having a super shit time of it, and if I’m going to be the kind of guy he deserves, I have to sacrifice things like Christmas in Vermont.” His phone buzzed again, and he frowned as he saw an entire text string from Margie erupt on the screen.

“Andy,” his mother snapped, “we’re about to go up and sing. We’ve put our all into this pageant so we can work together as a family—”

Andy tuned her out, his focus on the words in front of him.

Andy, Eli took a fall down the basement stairs at around four this afternoon. We just found him an hour ago—he was unconscious and hypothermic and perhaps suffering from broken bones. We got him checked into Bed/Stuy general, and they’re looking him over now, but we thought you’d want to know.

“Andy!” his mother’s voice cut through his rising panic. “Andy, are you even listening to me?”

“No,” he said, his voice far away. “I’m not.”

“Andy!”

He could suddenly focus on her, and the glow of home and glamour of “Christmas” fell away. “I’m not listening to you anymore. Because it’s all bullshit, Mom. You, wanting us all to gather together to be this fictional family in this picture-perfect Christmas card moment. Mom, I’ve seen Christmas spirit. People in this town have been helping me for two days trying to get Christmas to a bunch of kids they’ve never met. The entire goddamned town has opened their hearts and their pockets and has come through in amazing ways to help my boyfriend be a superhero to kids he works his fingers to the bone for. And all I’ve wanted is to be there , working with him, because this means everything to him. And Mom, you can’t even say his name. You knit five sweaters for charity this year—I know because they got donated to his kids through the church. But you haven’t knit one fucking sweater for the man I love. And I’m done. Christmas isn’t picture-perfect. Our family isn’t picture-perfect. But I thought we could at least be Eli’s family too. Charlie, Mary Beth, Dad—they all jumped in to help. But you? You’re so wrapped up in what you think Christmas ought to be, that you haven’t seen what it is. It’s hard. It’s hard to make dreams come true for children who’ve had all their dreams stripped away. The world is a hard place to make generosity and charity matter. But damned near every person in this town has worked their asses off to make it happen, just this once, for these kids. Every person in town but you ”—his voice cracked—“who should have loved Eli best. He needs a mom, and I was so excited because I thought I’d be giving him a family. But the family I’m giving him is going to have to be absent one parent because you’re not up for the job.”

He sucked in a breath and realized he was crying. The entire church was deadly silent, all eyes on the painful tableau of him and his mother, staring at each other in anger.

“ Andy !” she burst out, eyes filling. “Andrew Michael Chambers, you take that back.”

“No,” he said, voice calm. “And I’m not standing up and singing with the family either. Eli’s in the hospital, Mom. He fell down the stairs as he was cleaning up, and he’s unconscious, and I promised him I’d get there today. I was going to do this one last thing for you, but you know what? I don’t care if I have to wait in the car before we take off. I don’t care if I freeze to death waiting in the car before we load it up and go to the airstrip. I’ll be damned if I do one more thing for a woman who won’t even say my boyfriend’s name.”

And with that he turned on his heel and strode toward the coatroom, not able to stand there one more minute.

FIFTEEN MINUTES later he was sitting in Dan’s SUV, wrapped in one of the many lap robes Dan kept there since he was—in his words—often a granny taxi. He had Margie on the phone so they could trade stats about Eli, arrival times, and the food and gift situation.

“I was planning to get in around one in the morning,” he said. “That hasn’t changed. I need to wait to talk to my sources to see what needs to be—”

He was interrupted as Dan, Porter, his dad, and Charlie and Mary Beth all trooped out to fill the back with the bags Dan had gathered from the other churches. Included, he noticed, was the box of cookie tins filled with the cookies he’d baked the day before.

“Talk to you later, Margie. I should be in Brooklyn around ten.”

“We weren’t even going to get to these,” Dan said by way of explanation as he put the box in the back.

“But the pageant…,” Andy mumbled, confused.

“Your mother is in charge,” his father said dryly. “Pastor Dan put her in charge before telling the congregation that our family was needed elsewhere.”

Charlie gave an evil laugh. “That was some great shade, Pastor Dan,” she said. “I mean, she won’t need sunscreen in July after that!”

It took Andy a moment to process that. Shade. As in…. “You said she wasn’t part of our family,” he mumbled.

“You all mean everything to her,” Dan said frankly as he got into the driver’s seat and shut the door. “I think she needed to hear that she was losing you by trying to keep you all on a leash.”

“And whether she learns or not,” Matt Chambers said, “you and Eli need us right now, and the girls and I weren’t going to ignore that.” Behind them, Porter had started up his truck. He gave a little beep to signal he was leaving, and they headed out.

The supply truck usually hauled dry goods for an East Coast centered bakery, so it had a refrigerator compartment perfect for the perishable food. Between the truck and the cargo plane, they had two full loads ready to go, but Andy’s dad insisted on riding in the truck with the girls since the cargo plane only sat three. That was fine. Andy wasn’t sure how much conversation they’d get in anyway.

As it turned out, quite a bit, but not with his father, and not with Porter, who had worked his actual job that morning after being everybody’s workhorse for the past two days. Porter sprawled on a tarp on the floor in front of the cargo netting and slept, and Andy sat in the front of the plane, peering over the breathless snowscape of Vermont.

“God, it’s beautiful,” he said, talking over the headset so he could be heard over the propellers. The dark silhouettes of conifers could be seen over moonlit snow, as could the occasional house standing in a clearing, split-rail fences lining the properties like black lace.

“And so peaceful.” Pastor Dan flashed him a smile. “Feel closer to God this way. It’s why I like to fly.”

Andy grinned and then sobered, glancing back at Porter, who had turned out to be the best of friends. “What are you two going to do about each other?” he asked, a little afraid. He’d been so sure Porter had been meant to GTFO—it had always been his driving ambition, but after seeing him with Dan over the last two days, Andy was pretty sure getting out of Vermont was the worst thing Porter could do.

Dan winked at him. “Oh, that man is going to marry me. Don’t worry. See, it’s all part of my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yeah. First I had to get him to see me as a hot guy and not a saint.”

Andy had to laugh. “How’d that go over?”

Dan gave a very self-satisfied, very masculine smirk. “Oh, I think he bought it.”

Oh my! “So, erm, step one achieved. What was step two?”

“Mm.” Dan let out a breath and adjusted his course a little. “Step two was making sure he’d be happy in a small town.” And wow—Pastor Dan, proving he wasn’t just a pretty face. He really did know Porter.

“I think he is,” Andy said thoughtfully. “Which is funny, because he was the one who wanted out the most. But look at him. He’s… he’s the town rock. He’s like my dad. Making sure everybody’s houses are ready for the winter, checking on the food bank, knows the snowplow guy. He’s the backbone of the town.”

Andy wasn’t sure, but he thought Dan’s eyes grew a little shiny.

“You get it,” he said softly. “See, I really had been planning to stay celibate until marriage, sort of like you’re supposed to. But… but I felt like I had to make him see, you know? What a good guy he was? I figured God and I could do a little reckoning if Porter could start to understand that he doesn’t have to be a saint to be a great guy.”

“Is he starting to?” Andy asked. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to go back to Foxglove to attend Porter and Pastor Dan’s wedding.

“I think helping you out is doing a lot with that,” Dan said. “Something about helping people outside your own little world and extending charity to both strangers and your friends and family—I think it’s starting to sink in.”

“So after that, what’s step three?”

“Marriage and babies,” Dan said impishly.

Andy laughed. “Porter and his mother would love that, I think.”

“Yeah, me too.” Dan looked at him with serious eyes. “Fostering children would be good too. I think Porter and I could make a really good forever home for kids who have no place else to go.”

Andy swallowed hard, thinking about kids like Lola and Josie, boys who wanted to dress as fairies for Halloween, and kids who would rather take a closet full of pills than go back to a home full of cruelty.

“I think the world needs you guys like you would not believe,” he said through a rough throat. “I want to see the two of you achieve step three. You can do amazing things in a small town.” He glanced back over his shoulder, thinking about all the help they’d given so far. “You already have.”

He saw Porter looking back at him, eyes gleaming faintly in the running lights of the plane. When Andy met his gaze for a moment, Porter winked and held up three fingers, nodding like he’d won something.

“Step three,” he mouthed, obviously excited.

Andy chuckled and nodded back.

Step three. It couldn’t happen to a nicer bro.