Christmas Brothers
by Rob Warr
Chapter 6
I awoke the next morning feeling a bit disoriented, but I quickly realized where I was, and despite the little pity party I'd had last night, I felt good and ready to face the new day. I had my usual morning wood, of course, and after checking the hall to make sure the coast was clear, I headed to the bathroom to relieve my aching bladder.
After peeing, I washed my face and hands and stared at my reflection once again. I was beginning to like the new me, and despite my nagging doubts I felt as if I were coming around to the Nelsons' way of thinking. As long as I could see Charlie occasionally, that is. That would have to be a condition of my agreeing to be adopted, but I wondered just how much bargaining power I really had. Sure, they could agree, but how would I enforce our agreement? They seemed like nice folks though, and I doubted they'd outright lie to me, so it was a chance I was willing to take.
"Oh, I see you're up," Mr. Nelson said when I stepped into the hall.
"Yeah, just had to pee... I mean, use the bathroom," I said blushing.
"Pee is perfectly acceptable," Mr. Nelson chuckled, "even Lisa isn't offended by that word."
"I was just gonna get dressed," I said, "should I put on the clothes I wore here or the ones I wore to dinner?'
"Did Lisa buy you some jeans?"
"Yes, sir," I said, "should I wear those?'
"Yeah, I think they'll be more comfortable while we're working outside. And a long sleeve shirt or sweatshirt. It's supposed to be in the 40s today."
"Okay, I'll just go get dressed then," I said happily.
"Fine, just come on down to the kitchen when you're dressed, Lisa should have breakfast ready by then. Blueberry waffles, banana oatmeal, and bacon. And...I don't know about you, but I'm starved."
"That sounds really good," I said, my mouth almost watering at the menu. We actually had waffles at the orphanage occasionally, but not with blueberries, and to tell the truth, they weren't really all that good. I just knew that Mrs. Nelson's waffles were going to be delicious, and I was right.
When I entered the kitchen, Mrs. Nelson looked up from the stove and smiled, "Oh, Zeke, that striped pullover looks wonderful on you. It really sets off your brown eyes and complexion. And the jeans fit you just right, don't you think, Dan?'
"Yeah, he looks like a real slugger dressed like that, all boy," he chuckled.
And then it hit me. 'All boy.' Well, technically I was, all boy. I had all the right parts and I certainly didn't feel the least bit feminine, but I knew being 'all boy' meant something else. It meant liking girls and not boys, and that was the nagging feeling I'd had all along.
It wasn't just about leaving Charlie, or leaving behind my old life. It wasn't about starting over and fitting into a new family and making new friends, it was the deep dark secret I would have to keep if I came to live here. In the orphanage, no one cared. I could be who I wanted to be and when I aged out, I could get a job and a place and Charlie could come live with me. But if I let the Nelson's adopt me, well...how would I hide my real feelings from them? It wouldn't be fair to them or to me. They might even want me to get married and have grandkids for them. But girls held no interest for me, and in my mind, and probably in theirs, if they knew what I really was, they wouldn't think that I was 'all boy' any more.
"Zeke, are you all right?" Mrs. Nelson said, noting my sudden change of mood.
"What? Oh, yes ma'am, just thinking about something," I said trying to put my worries aside so I could enjoy the last day of my visit, for I was sure I wouldn't be coming back. Two days would have to do, and if that was all I had, damn it, I was gonna make the best of it. Putting on a smile I said, "Something sure smells good."
Mrs. Nelson laughed and pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head like Mr. Nelson had, and it was hard to keep my composure, but I was stronger than I thought and I didn't break down.
Like I said, the waffles were delicious, and so was the oatmeal. And what can I say about bacon, bacon is bacon, and always delicious, even if the stuff we get at the orphanage isn't prime stuff like Mrs. Nelson served.
I had a tall glass of milk with Ovaltine to wash it all down with, and by the time I was finished I was comfortably full, but not stuffed. That was important since I'd be working pretty hard today and didn't want to barf up my breakfast.
This time Mrs. Nelson let me help with the cleanup, and she showed me how to load the dishwasher. Dishwasher? At the orphanage we were the dishwashers, and the thought of having such a modern convenience was mind blowing to a 12-year-old poor boy like me.
That done, we headed to the garage where there were more boxes of decorations, these labeled 'OUTSIDE' in red six inch high letters. We had all of them pulled out to the driveway by the time the first of our helpers arrived, and I was introduced to the Jenkins family.
The dad was Ron, his wife, Juanita, and two sons, Jerry age 14, and Ron Jr. (or Ronnie) age 16. They seemed nice, and the way they treated me you'd have never guessed that they knew where I came from.
Jerry was kind of cute, and if I hadn't already been in love with Charlie I might have fallen for him right away. He was nice too, and didn't treat me like a little kid, though neither did Ronnie. Heck, they were both nice, and both pretty cute, but of course Ronnie was out of my league, not that I was looking.
Next came a boy about my age named Cecil. He was kind of chubby but cute, and I learned that he was Mr. Nelson's nephew and the only child of his brother Fredrick, who lived two houses down the street. His mom had died in childbirth, and his dad had never remarried, so it had always just been the two of them. That seemed a little sad, but at least they had each other.
There were others that came, but I can't remember all their names. They were neighbors and friends, and even Mrs. Nelson's brother, Ralph, who I swear was 7 foot tall and looked like a lumber jack. Needless to say he was a very big help that day.
When it came time to string the lights on the rooftop, Mr. Nelson asked if I felt up to that or if I preferred to stay on the ground. I told him I loved climbing trees and I wasn't afraid of heights and I'd be glad to go up there with him. Only he wasn't going up there. Turned out he was afraid of heights, so it was Ronnie, Jerry, me and Ralph who wound up stringing the lights up there.
From the rooftop I felt like I could see for miles and I felt like the king of the mountain as I stared out across the neighborhood. Besides the lights there was a lighted Santa and Sleigh which was almost full size, though it was two dimensional and in several pieces, so it was easy to handle and secure to the roof. In fact there were already mounting brackets on the roof from the last time they'd put it up.
By lunchtime we were three fourths of the way finished and when Mrs. Nelson called us all in for lunch, I was surprised to find that the ladies had prepared a feast for us. Sandwiches, potato salad, coleslaw, salad, chips and dip, and about a half dozen different desserts. I learned later that this was a tradition among the families represented here, and that they all helped each other get their decorations up each year. The hosting family provided the food, but all the ladies helped prepare it, some in advance at their own houses.
While we ate, I got to know some of the other boys better, and not a single one of them seemed to question my being there or be bothered by my background. I did sense that they had questions, but I decided since this was no doubt the last time I'd see them, there was no need to offer any information unless they did ask.
Back outside, we finished up the decorations and the adults tested the lights to make sure everything was working. It would be dark soon and we could really see what they looked like, but that made me kind of sad knowing this one night was all I had to enjoy them. Well, I didn't have to go back till tomorrow morning, so I could at least enjoy them tonight.
Not only did our lights come on when the sun finally gave way to dusk, but nearly every house on both sides of the street soon joined the festival of light. It was awesome, like something out of a movie, and I stood there staring in wonder as neighbors began to emerge from their homes to see the latest addition to the light show.
Mr. and Mrs. Nelson came over to stand behind me and both laid a hand on my shoulder, "You did a great job, boys," Mrs. Nelson said.
"We had a little help, but Zeke really worked his butt off," Mr. Nelson said, and I snickered. It was always funny to hear an adult use words like butt.
"I'll leave you boys to watch the lights for while, but when you're ready I'll fix some hot cocoa and we can listen to some Christmas music to really put us in the mood."
"I'd like that," I said sincerely. If this was all there was gonna be, then I wanted to see, and hear, and taste, all I could in what time I had left.
It was seven thirty when we finally came in, driven in by our numb fingers and red noses. The temperature had been steadily dropping since the sun went down and it had to be near freezing by the time we finally decided we'd seen enough. It wasn't unusual to have snow this early, but as far as I knew none was predicted, but you never knew what Mother Nature has in store.
We sipped our hot cocoa by the fireplace and listened to Nat King Cole's Christmas album, one of my favorites from the orphanage, and when the Nelsons began to sing along with White Christmas, I joined them.
My voice was still high and blended nicely with Mr. Nelson's alto and Mrs. Nelson's lovely angelic voice. She was right, Mr. Nelson did have a nice singing voice and I wondered why he hadn't pursued a singing career instead of one in business. But I guessed sometimes fate led you down paths you hadn't meant to take, but felt compelled to follow.
"Merry Christmas," Mrs. Nelson said as she stroked my hair gently, causing me to feel a bit drowsy. I knew I couldn't afford to get used to this kind of treatment, but it sure felt good while it lasted.
"Merry Christmas, and thanks for all you've done for me this weekend. It was a lot of fun, and I enjoyed every minute of it."
"You don't sound like you're convinced that you want to stay though," Mr. Nelson said frowning.
"Like I said, I need to think about it some more, is that all right?"
"Of course it's all right," Mrs. Nelson answered giving her husband a stern look.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep pushing. I guess it's just my nature," he added with a chuckle.
"Zeke will make the right decision, I'm sure of it," his wife said, "now, who's ready for some dinner? There is a ton of food left over from earlier and I don't want it to go to waste."
So we dined on leftovers, which were just as good as they'd been earlier, and by the time we'd cleaned up again it was pushing nine o'clock. I knew it was getting close to bedtime, but I didn't want the evening to end, yet, so I asked if we could watch some TV since I seldom got to do that.
"Well, of course, why don't you boys go find something to watch and I'll join you in a minute," Mrs. Nelson said.
Once again in the family room, Mr. Nelson turned on the TV and flipped through the channels till he found a detective show I'd never seen before. He asked if that was okay and I nodded, eager to see what it was all about and to watch it in living color.
Mrs. Nelson joined us a bit later, rubbing her hands together to spread the lotion she'd applied to them. I thought it must take a lot of work to look as good as Mrs. Nelson, but one thing I noticed about her was that she didn't use a lot of makeup like some women do. I guessed she was just naturally beautiful and that made me smile. But the smile faded as I realized she could never be my mom, never accept a queer for a son, and that made me sad.
Despite that one second of gloom, I enjoyed the TV program and thanked the Nelsons when it was over. I headed to bed then, but the Nelsons decided to watch the 10 o'clock news, which held no interest for me.
In my room, I grabbed my pajamas and a pair of clean undies and headed to the bathroom. Without being told to do so I'd decided to shower this one last time and enjoy what was almost 'my bathroom'. I'd never forget all that I'd experienced these last two days, but I knew it wasn't anything I could have forever. I was broken and no one could fix me, and I was destined to live out my days in the orphanage, but I was thankful for this glimpse at what might have been.
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
