Turkey in the Snow (6 page)

“As soon as it feels like mine,” she mumbled. But she didn’t crawl into his bed that night, so that must have been progress, right?

T
HE
next day, as he fidgeted under the gimlet eye of the social worker, he hung on to that.

“So she has her own room and her own bed,” the social worker said, ticking things off handily on a triplicate form. “And your job at the bank has checked out—you’re doing really well financially.”

She glared at him and, given the grim financial climate, Hank managed a sheepish sort of smile back.

“You really are,” the social worker said, cocking her head. “So the judge is going to want to know why the mother couldn’t stay here?”

Hank looked desperately at Josie (who was playing on her bed again, ignoring the social worker in spite of her repeated attempts to get Josie to talk) and gave a nod to get the woman out of the room.

She was a short Hispanic woman in her fifties, and Hank got the impression that nobody had given her a damned thing. Ever. Not even for her birthday. Well, Hank had grown up through birthdays like that too, and the one thing that he’d given himself was the promise that when
he
got to be the grown up, he would have it all together, and he’d done okay that way. No boyfriend check on his list, but other than that, he had the job, he had the kid, he had the house, and he was barely twenty-six. This woman could damned well cut him a break by not bringing up the “big drama” that he and Josie had tacitly agreed not to talk about.

They got out to the hallway and the woman said, “Okay, so
why
didn’t you offer this sweet setup to your sister?”

Hank glowered. “Because Amanda didn’t ask, okay? There was no asking, there was only leaving. Do you think if she’d asked, I would have said no?”

Mrs. Ramirez fluffed her dyed black hair and raised a sculpted eyebrow. “So why wouldn’t she stay here?”

Hank sighed. “I like rules,” he said, feeling like a six-foot three-inch dick. “I like knowing where my next paycheck is coming from, and having the dishes washed after they’re dirty. I like going to bed around the same time every night and knowing the people in my life are going to be right where I left them when I wake up.”

Now both eyebrows were up. “That sounds like a perfect environment for a child.”

“Well, it was for the four-year-old,” he said shortly. “I think the twenty-year-old was tired of those rules, and so she did what lots of children do and ran away.”

Mrs. Ramirez nodded. “Fair enough. So, you want to make this situation permanent?”

Hank’s heart gave an excruciatingly awkward lurch in his chest. “Yes,” he confessed. “I really love having her here.” He gestured vaguely back toward Josie. “We found a really nice daycare lady—Mrs. Watson, her name’s on the paperwork. I spent all Saturday remodeling her room, and I’ve adjusted my workout so the gym childcare guy is the one she really loves. I’ve started going running on my lunch hour so I don’t have to go to the gym so much when he’s not there. I’ve added her to my health insurance and she’s had a dentist appointment and a checkup and I just… I
really
like having her here. It’s hard—harder than anything I thought I’d do. I can see why Amanda bailed. But I don’t want to bail. I want Josie to know her people are right where she left them when she wakes up.”

Mrs. Ramirez nodded some more and made some more checks on her list. Then she asked, “So, is there a
missus
Uncle Hank in the future?”

Hank grimaced. He couldn’t lie about this. Hell, he couldn’t lie about
anything,
as that giddy, delirious night of truth with Justin had proven. But he certainly couldn’t lie about this.

“Uhm, there might be
mister
Uncle Hank in the future,” he said, looking her gay in the eye.

She nodded, not even batting a thickly gooped eyelash. “Have there been a lot of Mister Uncle Hank’s in the past?” she asked. “The judge is going to ask.”

Hank thought. How long ago was Alan? “My last boyfriend was a year and a half ago,” he said frankly. “I don’t do random hook-ups, so it’s been a long dry spell—”

“Any water in the future?” she asked, not even quirking her lipsticked mouth. Geez, what did it take to get this woman to smile? Admittedly, Hank wasn’t a laugh riot, but
she
was the one to crack the joke!

“Uhm,” he said, wondering if she needed to know about Justin. At that moment there was a knock at the door and Hank looked at his watch. Wait, he wasn’t running late, right? He excused himself and opened the door, and Justin was standing there with a box of doughnuts.

“He-ey,” he said, grinning as he swished in. “My final was a
breeze
, and I wasn’t sure if you’d be back yet so I thought I’d check and here you are! My sister got some doughnuts from this place—ohmygah, you’ve
got
to taste these! They’re… they’re
decadence
in a pink….”

Justin petered off as he set the pink doughnut box on Hank’s kitchen table. Hank was staring at him, torn between joy, because he was
really
happy to see him, and horror, because Mrs. Ramirez was
not
cracking any smiles.

“Uhm, Justin?” Hank said, taking a few steps toward him. “This is Mrs. Ramirez, the social worker. She’s running a little late this morning. Mrs. Ramirez, this is Justin, he’s—”

“Your rain man, isn’t he?”

Justin raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“His first boyfriend after a long dry spell,” Mrs. Ramirez said.

“Well, I’m still sort of interviewing for the job,” Justin said, grinning at her now that he understood. “Would you like a doughnut? They are to
die
for!”

Mrs. Ramirez sent a pointed look at Hank, who had offered her a cup of coffee, which she apparently didn’t drink. “I’d love one,” she said, reaching into the box. She chose a French cruller and took a bite, then closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was glaring at Hank all over again.

“You should give this boy the job for the doughnuts alone. I’ll tell the judge this is a nice, stable home, and you all have a Merry Christmas.” With that, she looked around the house. “You
are
going to decorate, aren’t you?  You’ve only got three weeks!”

“Oh yes,” Justin said, smiling at her and handing her a napkin—the icing was thick and flaking off onto her bright gold and black blazer. “Tonight—it’s going to be a thing.” He reached into the pocket of his windbreaker. “I even brought music!” he said, pulling out two CDs that looked freshly burned.

Hank realized that he was just standing there, stupidly, looking at Justin like his last best hope, and with that, he closed the final distance between them and took the CDs out of his hands.

“That’s a perfect idea,” he said softly, wishing they were the only two people in the room. Justin turned to him, radiating that absolute good will, and Hank ignored Mrs. Ramirez and the second disappearing doughnut, and kissed Justin on a chilly cheek, his lips actually tingling for something more. “Thank you,” Hank said sincerely. “Do you want to go get Josie ready while I close this up?”

Justin’s smile was bright and white and brilliant as the sun. “Oh Josie!” he called, before breaking off eye contact with Hank and trotting down the hall. “Are you ready to go to the babysitter’s?”

“
Justin
!” Josie squealed, as she rocketed out of her new bedroom and right into Justin’s arms.

“He’s something else,” Mrs. Ramirez said, and for the first time all morning, Hank detected a little bit of warmth in her voice.

“You have no idea,” Hank said, finally tearing his eyes off the two of them, chattering away in some secret kid language that Justin spoke fluently. “Now what do I have to sign to make sure she gets to stay here as long as she wants?”

S
IGNING
the papers took a while, so Hank cleared it with childcare and let Justin take Josie to Mrs. Watson’s in Hank’s car. By the time Mrs. Ramirez left, Justin was pulling back into the driveway, and Hank walked out of his house with a feeling of relief. Six hours to go shopping, and then back to decorate the tree, and it was all,
all
in Justin’s company.

Oh God. He hoped he didn’t screw this up.

Justin rolled down the window. “Can I drive to the mall?” he asked. “I gotta tell you, Henry, this thing is
sweet
compared to that piece of crap I drive!”

Hank had to laugh at Justin’s battered blue Ford Neon parked in front of his house by the curb. “Knock yourself out,” he said, settling down in the passenger’s seat. “But I have to tell you, it’s not nearly as much fun as my Mustang.”

“Ohmygah, you had a
Mustang!
”

The way Justin said it made Hank feel like he was an old superhero.
Like ohmygah, you were able to fly?

“Yeah—it was a recent model, though.” Because everyone knew the old restored ones were the best.

“So why’d you get rid of it?”

“I needed something sensible for Josie.”

Justin grunted as he turned left on Madison, heading for the freeway.

“We’re not going to Sunrise?” Hank was surprised—Sunrise Mall was the closest and the least crowded of the three major shopping networks in the area.

“When we have the Galleria?” Justin asked with a huff, and Hank suppressed a groan.

“Oh God,” he whined, “the crowds and the—”

“Oh yes, Henry. There’s gonna be drama. Get over it. I
love
the Galleria at Christmas.”

“I get lost,” Hank confessed. “I can never find my way around in the parking garage and—”

“Well, it’s lucky you have me.” They were at a light and Justin cast a flirtatious glance to his right. “I shall be your guide through the fields of frantic holiday shoppers. You will come to depend on me. I’ll be your Sherpa through the human mountain, your faithful Saint Bernard, guiding you through the shopping Alps, your Strider, hauling your poor hobbit ass through the perils of Middle Earth—”

“My Gollum, prepared to dump my hobbit ass in the volcano,” Hank finished, although it was hard because he was fighting laughter with every word.

“No-oo!” Justin protested. “I would
never
dump your ass in a volcano.” He gave one of those giggly smiles, the kind that was all teeth, and that popped his cheeks so close to his eyes that they got all squinchy. “I need to grope it first!”

Hank’s laughter cut off with a swallow, and heat swept his body. Justin pulled his chin back into what Hank was thinking of as his meerkat pose, even though he kept two hands on the wheel.

“You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you,” Justin asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“I… uhm… oh God.” Hank fought the temptation to put his face in his hands, and instead stared out the window. There was something about the gray skies of December that made the foothills look featureless as they drove to Roseville. But beyond that, Hank could see the mountains, and they’d always seemed to promise something great, something grand and perfect and magnificent. Hank had never questioned why his mother had moved to Reno—he’d only questioned why he’d chosen to remain in the valley.

“How long’s it been, Henry?”

“A year and a half.” Somehow, with his eyes focused on the mountains, that didn’t sound so pathetic.

“You know, I, uhm, haven’t gotten much past second base, right? A year and a half, a total butt-virgin—it’ll be very Sweet Valley High.”

Hank tried not to choke on his tongue. “God, you’re making a lot of assumptions,” he said when he’d recovered, and Justin thumped him on the back a couple of times to make sure he was done coughing.

“No, no,” Justin said, and although his smile was more low key, it was still there. “See, you don’t get it. I mean, I’ve worked at the gym for two years, right? And I saw you from afar, and… man, do you have
any
idea how hot you are?”

Could Justin hear him swallow? How about the screeching, rusty gears in Hank’s head, could he hear those too? “Uhm…”

“I mean, you’ve got that whole ‘Don’t touch me’ thing going, but from afar, I’ve got to tell you, you starred in a lot of pornographic dreams, Henry. And suddenly you show up with this little girl, and anybody could see you were struggling. But I see parents and kids all the time, and I’ve got to tell you, you’re one of the good ones. You keep your patience—and man, when a kid’s got all the baggage Josie’s got, that’s not easy. I thought if she said ‘But Mommy never did
tha-at
!’ one more time, you were going to crack a tooth, you were grinding your jaw so hard. But you didn’t. And maybe you can’t see it, but she’s happier already. It’s only been a couple of months, but
I
can see that she’s happier. And I love kids, so you went from my ‘worship from afar’ to my ‘dream guy’, even though you were a dick, and I thought you were straight.”

“I’m sorry about being a dick,” Henry mumbled, embarrassed down to his toes.

“But see? Then you got all human on me the other night, and it’s official. I’m there, Henry. I’m… I’m in the United States of Henry right now
.
I’m ready for the Henry
lifestyle.
And I know you’ve only gotten your toes wet in Lake Justin right now, but I want you to come in, take a swim, and build your house out here, okay?”

Hank was torn between laughing and hyperventilating, and he couldn’t seem to get a handle on either. Then Justin, eyes still on the road, put his hand on Hank’s knee, and the world slowed down, spun a little saner, became more a manageable, gravity driving mass and less a broken gyroscope on the edge of the abyss.

Hank covered that hand with his own. “You don’t have any gloves,” he croaked, because it was cold and Justin’s hand was icy.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on baring my soul to you. Some of that’s flop sweat.”

Hank laughed a little and squeezed. “It was a good speech. No flopping. I’m still in the car.”

“Good, Henry. It’s your car.”

“You’re a really good human being, and I wasn’t very nice. And now I’m worried about hurting you. I’m sort of a selfish bastard—”