Page 70 of Winter Break

“Look at everyone in this room! Look at Mom, and Anita, and Mallory. Look at your son! We’re here, celebrating family and the holidays and new life.” He turned and smiled at Brett, who, bless him, couldn’t return it with his jaw still on the ground and his eyes bugging out.

Somewhere in that impassioned and angry speech, Dalton had called me his boyfriend. Someone in the room gasped. Possibly Mallory or her sister?

Anita wrapped her other arm around me after patting Dalton’s arm. “Tomorrow, son. We’ll end it tomorrow because it’s two o’clock in the morning in London right now. We’ll talk to Fiona, and we’ll put this to bed. It was one thing when you tried to make my life miserable, Chris Garner. But I won’t have you hurting these boys. This is their future you’re threatening now.

“And to do this here! Now. While we’re celebrating your son and his wife and a new grandbaby?

“Leave it alone for tonight, Chris. But do get those lawyers on the phone during this lovely holiday season, so they can hear from the owner, the prior owner, and the daughter of the owners before that, just who exactly One Hundred Four belongs to.”

Leila was crying, and Mallory and Brett went to her as Chris, head held down, left the room and bounded up the stairs.

Mallory’s father made his way back to the bar and thanked Anita for reminding everyone what we’d come to celebrate that evening.

He gave a sweet speech about family and fatherhood and being a good husband. Then he encouraged everyone to drink up. A teary-eyed Brett went to shake his father-in-law’s hand, but the man engulfed him in a hug.

Brett, Mallory, and Dalton’s mom made their way over to us, and Anita and Leila both apologized at the same time, then both laughed, Anita concluding, “Neither of us are responsible for him, you know.”

Leila nodded sadly and hugged Anita before looking at us.

“Boyfriends, huh?” We looked at each other, and Dalton looked at and answered his mother, but my eyes were on Brett.

“Um, yeah. I mean …”

Dalton turned to me, his hand on my hip, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“Boyfriends?” I asked, and he answered with a kiss. Somewhere in the room, someone said, “Woo-hoo.” It sounded like Mallory’s little sister. Leila and Anita chuckled, and Brett sputtered until I heard Mallory say, “Grow up, Brett. It’s not like you’ve never seen two guys kissing before.”

She walked away, and he followed her. “It’s not that. You know it’s not that, Mal. He’s my best friend, and he’s my little brother. I … he … they …”

She turned around. “We’re happy for you, boys. A little surprised, for sure, but happy. Love you both.”

“Love you, too,” we said in unison, turning to look at each other until Anita cleared her throat, and we looked sheepishly at our moms, the silence deafening for a roomful of people who were back to celebrating.

“Mom, I …” Dalton started, but Leila didn’t let him finish.

“You’ll be busy these next few days, helping Turner out at the toy store. I know. You may have mentioned it one or one dozen times.” She looked at me next, narrowing her eyes. Dalton and I instinctively pulled our arms tighter around each other.

“You’ll close the store in time for dinner on Christmas Eve?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

To Anita, she said, “And you’ll all be here in time for family dinner that night?”

“Mom!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m sorry, boys,” Leila said. Brett and Mallory had meandered over. “Sorry about your father, Dalton, Brett.”

“No!” Anita chimed in. “I’m sorry. We should have handled this when I signed the place over to you, son. I asked one last time then if the lawyer thought there was anything I could do to get Chris off my back. He suggested that maybe an affidavit from Fiona would be a good thing to have on file. I’ve never asked her, because God damn it…

“Sorry, Turner, I know how you are with taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

Dalton and I may have looked at each other and blushed. He had heard me take the Lord’s name in vain once or twice.

“But … God damn it, we shouldn’t need it. The deeds have always been in order!” She grasped my upper arms, looking up at me like only a mother could. “Dalton is right, son. This is over. I’ll get Fiona on the phone tomorrow and get the lawyers to draft the affidavit. At Home is not going to take over One Hundred Four.”

Anita hugged me, and Dalton whispered a, “Be right back,” in my ear, returning a few minutes later and dragging me around the room to say good night.