Christmas, 1967
Garrett and his dad had created their own Christmas traditions since Garrett’s mother died. While Garrett grew up, they ate their holiday dinner and opened presents on Christmas Eve. Christmas Day ended up a lazy day after church while Garrett played with his new toys. His parents watched him while they listened to the radio.
Since his mother’s death, Garrett and Allen still got together on Christmas Eve, usually at night. Garrett had to work at the bank until it closed at noon and Allen kept the station open as well. Christmas never felt the same without his mother. With Christmas Eve on Sunday, Allen still didn’t come over until the evening.
On Christmas Day, they joined Allen’s sisters at one of their homes. Susan and George had volunteered to host the clan. Of course, that meant that Eron would probably be there, too.
“Did you help Bates today?” Allen asked Garrett when he arrived.
“Yeah, a few last minute shoppers, including more than one scorned wife who knew their husbands hadn’t done anything for them.”
Allen smiled. “I never understood men who don’t buy their wives gifts at Christmas.” Allen paused for a moment. “You really enjoy helping Bates, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I mean, it keeps me busy. Besides, they just don’t make stuff like they used to.”
“That’s for sure. I still use some of the furniture your mother and I bought when we first got married.”
“There was a beautiful chest of drawers that reminded me of the one Mom had.” Garrett’s voice grew quieter as he spoke.
Allen was quiet for a moment. “I sure do miss her,” he said after a while.
“I do, too, Dad.”
They were silent while Garrett set out the fried chicken he’d picked up at one of the new quick-serve restaurants.
“How’s things at the bank, son?” Allen asked him while they ate their dinner. Neither man could match her cooking and it still wasn’t Christmas without her.
“It’s been busy.” Garrett said. “I have a few more loans to close before New Years and then it will slow down.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you still seeing that Amick girl?” his father asked.
“Off and on,” Garrett said.
“Must not be too serious if she’s not here,” Allen said.
Garrett stuffed some mashed potatoes in his mouth so he didn’t have to answer. He had turned to seeing her a bit more after Eron had broken up with him.
“Break up,” didn’t seem like the correct term for what he and Eron had. They really never dated, unless you counted the Knicks game after Grant Lassiter’s funeral. Did leaving work at eleven in the morning and playing hooky for the rest of the day count as a date? Did going off on their own over Labor Day weekend count as dating?
“Why didn’t you invite Elsie?” Garrett asked.
Allen put his head down and focused on his plate. “I figured this might be our last Christmas to ourselves.”
Garrett glanced up at his father. “That was nice of you.”
Allen shrugged. “What’s the story with Johnette?”
Garrett shrugged, this time. “I just told her that I wasn’t much into Christmas and didn’t want to bring her down.”
Allen looked up and grinned. “We aren’t very good company at Christmas, are we?” The silence was all the answer his father needed. “Have you seen that Eron Lassiter since you guys went away?”
“No.” Garrett took a bit of chicken. But I wish I had.
The two finished their meal in silence, then Allen gave Garrett his gift. Allen continued his wife’s tradition of creating a care package for Garrett that included underwear, dark dress socks, and various toiletries. Garrett opened the bottle of Old Spice and inhaled deeply. The notes of the cologne immediately took him to thoughts of Eron.
Garrett had already purchased a new television set for Allen and had it delivered on Friday. The year before, Allen bestowed the extravagant gift on Garrett and three months later the tube in his set burned out. Allen went without the rest of the year, so Garrett wanted to treat him.
Allen sat down by the TV and flipped through the channels until he landed on Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color. Disney had long been a staple in Allen and Emily’s Sunday night since it started in the Fifties. They didn’t have young children, but it entertained them.
* * * *
“I know…I wasn’t feeling good…I didn’t want anyone else to get anything if I am sick…I know Uncle George…I’m sure I’ll be fine…”
Eron woke with a start. In his dream, George had scolded him for not coming over for Christmas dinner. Eron squinted at the clock. Eleven fifty-five. He still had time to make the two o’clock dinner.
He’d awakened earlier, gotten up, made some toast, and crawled back into bed to read the paper. He ended up sleeping a total of fifteen hours since Sunday night.
He threw back the covers and got out of bed. The cold floors sent a chill through him as he made his way to the bathroom. He took off the pajama bottoms and took stock of himself in the mirror. The pit in his stomach grew as he stared. Puffy, dark circles hung from his eyes. His normally tan-olive skin had a sickly, greenish tinge to it.
God, I miss you, Garrett.
Eron tried to shake the thought from his head as he brushed his teeth. He wanted to stay home, to wallow if he chose to. He didn’t want to be so close to Garrett and yet so far away. He told himself that as an adult, Christmas didn’t excite him like it had when he was a kid.
Mary Ellen had begged him to take her, but Eron used his standard excuse.
“Christmas just doesn’t mean what it used to,” he told her.
“It’s time to make our own traditions, Eron,” Mary Ellen said. She was actually sober at the time, so he appreciated her wisdom. She was right, he should create his own Christmas traditions. But he wanted to do that with Garrett, not with her.
As he lathered his face to shave, he noticed how his whiskers grew lighter and less stiff the farther from his mouth…like Garrett’s.
Frustrated that he couldn’t shake thoughts of Garrett, Eron grabbed the most recent issue of Playboy Magazine he’d left near the toilet. He flipped through the pages, gazed at a page, then smacked it shut. He put the magazine back in the rack and turned on the water.
After waiting for the water to warm, Eron climbed into the shower. He stood beneath the head and allowed the balmy water to soothe him. He closed his eyes and rubbed his tired body, rinsing the fifteen hours of sleep away. When he got to his nipples, he paused for a moment. Not since September had anyone tugged on them.
Eron’s cock took notice. Already half hard from waking up and little use in the last four months, he took it in his hands. Within moments, it reached its full potential. He grabbed some shampoo and lathered it up. Soon, Eron was back in Provincetown over Labor Day weekend, fucking Garrett in the shower. As Eron stroked his cock, he imagined Garrett leaning over in the bathtub taking his member.
The hot water reminded Eron of the hot, late summer weekend. They fucked every chance they got. Eron leaned against the far wall away from the showerhead, shaft in hand, eyes closed. He jerked fast; he really did need to get over to George’s. In his mind’s eyes, Garrett smiled up at him, hair plastered forward into his face.
The sound of the water pounding against the tile and into the tub filled Eron’s ears. Nothing else matter at that moment. The orgasm boiled in his nuts. He cupped them. For a moment, he appreciated both the sensation his fingers received from the firm yet soft mound his balls formed and also the heightened stirring within them.
As Eron clamped down harder on his pipe, he thought about Garrett’s ass clenching down the closer Garrett got to coming. He’d lost count of how many times they came at the same time. That was all he needed to explode in the shower. Eron couldn’t remember the last time he’d come. He grunted and groaned loudly as the warm semen erupted into the tub. He leaned against the wall, his eyes closed and his lonely reality clamped in his hand. He wept for what he’d given up, for what others expected of him, and more, for what he expected of himself.
When he opened his eyes, his milky white load ran down the length of the tub and into the drain.
Eron finished washing, sure he’d spent too long in the shower. He finished with lukewarm water, proof he had indeed spent too long on self-indulgence. When he got out of the shower and glanced in the mirror, his normal skin color had returned. Maybe that’s what he needed, a good fuck.
What I need is Garrett.
Eron doused himself in the last of the Old Spice in the Knicks decanter that Garrett had bought him. Mary Ellen hated it. The decanter had become a source of security and comfort. The smell of Old Spice would conjure Garrett’s face in his head for a long time, if not forever.
While he dressed, he appreciated that since George had married Susan, the family events had become more casual. If his parents were alive and hosting the holiday, he’d have had to wear a suit. Slacks and a sweater were definitely more comfortable.
Eron grabbed a bottle of wine and a Christmas card from the box of leftovers on the counter. Even though he told his secretary she was welcome to use the spare greeting cards, she insisted Eron take them home.
He got into his BMW and started the hour-long drive to Uncle George and Susan’s.
* * * *
Christmas dinner at Aunt Susan’s provided plenty of food, an abundance of people, and loads of holiday cheer. The butterflies in Garrett’s stomach danced a merry holiday jig at the thought of seeing Eron. More at talking to him, which he wanted to do more than breathe. Even as he dressed for the day, he admonished himself about being too eager. In the end, he promised himself he’d hang back. Eron had ended things, therefore, if Eron wanted to talk to him, he’d have to make the first move. Garrett had to stand by the ultimatum he’d delivered in September.
Garrett negotiated his way to the den, waylaid by greetings from all his aunts and cousins, even caught up with a few of them. Everyone asked about Johnette, but he explained their conflicting schedules. Most people understood.
Mrs. Buchanan greeted him with enthusiasm. Glad that his father had found happiness this late in his life, Garrett blessed their union. He didn’t need a mother at his age, but his father needed a companion.
“Hello, Garrett.”
Garrett forced a smile and nodded. “How are you, Mary Ellen?” He kept his guard up in case she had too much to drink.
“I’m wonderful. Merry Christmas!” She threw her arms around him and gave him a hug, careful not to spill her wine.
Garrett gave her a quick squeeze, then pushed her away, keeping her left hand in his. He discreetly felt for an engagement ring.
Elsie blushed a little at Mary Ellen’s tipsiness as she walked away to greet the next set of cousins arriving.
A formal sit down dinner no longer possible with the growth in the family, Susan set up a buffet in her kitchen. The men disappeared into the den to watch the football game, while the women and small children took over the dining room, and the older kids whatever space left over. For the Emersons, this was normal. Allan, Susan, and Gertrude had grown up in such chaos. For most of the Lassiters, the more casual setting was welcome.
Garrett prepared his plate and headed for the den, thankful for the full house of his . After being at his aunt Susan’s for nearly two hours, he had yet to run into Eron. Maybe he wasn’t coming.
* * * *
Eron had to park two blocks away, but the crisp air relaxed him as he walked to the house. So obsessed thinking about Garrett, he’d forgotten about Mary Ellen. A man he wanted almost more than life itself and a woman who would stop at nothing to marry him.
Eron knocked lightly on the door and entered. He appreciated the laid-back attitude Susan and George had. He didn’t need to wait for anyone to answer the door and didn’t have to disturb anyone, since nearly everyone was already eating.
In the dining room, everyone greeted him warmly. He scooted around the edge of the dining room and leaned over to give Susan a peck on the cheek and shake hands with George.
As he stood, Elsie, Allen Emerson, and Mary Ellen caught Eron’s eye. Mary Ellen jumped up into his arms as he waved and greeted her mother and Allen.
“Merry Christmas, Eron,” Mary Ellen said.
Amid a cloud of alcohol, Eron reluctantly returned the hug. “Merry Christmas.”
Mary Ellen pulled the bottle of wine out of Eron’s hands. “Perfect, I just ran out.” She guzzled down the last of the wine in her glass and pulled Eron into the kitchen.
She fumbled drunkenly with the corkscrew. He grabbed it from her and finished opening the bottle. Eron poured her a standard glass, but Mary Ellen nodded so he gave her a little bit more.
Mary Ellen leaned up against the kitchen counter and twisted her wrist to rest the glass against her shoulder her bare ring finger in full sight. A pang of guilt rushed through him. He’d told Garrett in September that he intended to ask her to marry him.
How could he do that when he really loved Garrett?
* * * *
Garrett finished his plate, his focus on the game.
As one of the teams scored, the scent of Old Spice grabbed Garrett’s attention away from the game. Garrett rose from the couch. As he approached the door, Eron appeared, looking better than he should. Garrett shouldered his way past him, between two cousins.
“Hello,” Eron said.
“Hello,” Garrett said without meeting Eron’s gaze. He tucked his head down and scooted past Eron in the doorway.
Breathless by the time he maneuvered the masses, Garrett put his plate in the sink and went to find his father. Allen had exited the den about the time Garrett did, and with a quick discussion, Garrett convinced him to leave, saying he was ill and wanted to lie down.
They barely spoke on the drive home, or he didn’t. “I enjoyed seeing everyone again. I suppose once Elsie and I are married, we’ll host a holiday or two.”
“That’d be nice, Dad.”
“Did you talk to Eron Lassiter?”
Garrett guts churned. “I passed him in the hall, said hello.”
“You don’t see him as much as you used to, do you?”
“No, Dad. I’m busy, he’s busy. I probably haven’t seen him since…oh, maybe September.”
Garrett turned up the heater and cracked his window a bit. The cold breeze cooled his face while the fan blew warm air on his legs.
After a while, Allen turned toward him. “I remember this guy in basic training. He was skinny and scrawny, but he had a pretty face. The first time I saw him, I had to do a double take because I thought he was a girl.”
Oh, please do not tell me about you fucking this guy when you were younger.
“Turns out this guy was in and out of trouble with the law, and the army was his last chance. First week or two, none of us thought he was going to make it. He was weak, both physically and in spirit. I honestly thought they’d drum him out.”
“What changed?” Garrett asked, just to hear himself instead of his father for a moment.
“One night, I had to pee to so I got up and went to the latrine. I heard this muffled grunting as I approached. The lights were out, but there was just enough light from the street lamp outside to see those skinny legs from underneath the stall.”
Garrett grinned at both the thought of some young guy getting it in the bathroom in basic training and his dad’s obvious irritation he couldn’t just walk in and pee.
“So what’dya do?” Garrett asked.
“I went back to my bunk and waited it out. On the way back, I looked over at the kid’s bunk and saw it was empty. After a few minutes, seemed like forever, the toilet flushed and he got back to his bunk. The next day, things turned around for the kid—”
“How funny you call him a kid when he was your age.”
“He was smaller than the rest of us. Not only did he look like a girl, but he looked young, too, no more than fifteen or sixteen.”
“So what happened?”
“After that night, things turned around for the guy,” Allen repeated. “He kept up at PT and proved himself when it came to cleaning his gun.”
Garrett looked at his dad and grinned. “So is there a point to this story?”
Allen scratched his head. “Of course there was, but you keep interrupting me.”
Garrett grinned at his father’s teasing tone.
“The point is, the drill sergeant was nicer to the kid. Come to find out, it was the instructor in the latrine with him that night and many other nights after.”
Garrett’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. Allen’s expression turned from his storytelling voice to a grave and ominous tone.
“Two days before graduation, they found them both dead in the latrine. ‘Fuck in hell, faggots’ was written on the wall in their blood.”
Nausea came in waves as Garrett focused on the road.
“We cleaned up the mess that morning before we started our duties. They called in a new drill sergeant. I’m sure they notified the families, but there was never an investigation as to what happened. Every time my superior officer called me into his office, even four years later, my gut churned at the thought that they’d ask me about what happened that night. They never did. Every time I got called in, it was to congratulate me on a promotion.
“You see, son, I can admit when I see a good-looking man. Shit, there’s some good-looking young guys out there. There were times in the army when I’d walk into the shower room, admire a nice round butt, and then remember it belonged to another man, but I never crossed that line and touched. A man’s desire should be in women. Two men together…well that’s just…unnatural.”
Allen’s words hung in the air between them. By the time Garrett got home, his hands ached from clutching the steering wheel so tight.
His dad’s story shocked Garrett so much, it occupied more space in his head than anything else. His dad rarely spoke about his time in the army and when he did, the stories were generic. He had a purpose for the story he told in the car, and the implication of that chilled Garrett to the bone.
A cold shower is what I need right now.
Exhausted, Garrett stripped out of his clothes. He cupped his balls as he always did when naked, stepped into the bathroom, and turned on the water. When the cold water hit his hands, he changed his mind and turned the hot water on as well.
The warm water loosened Garrett’s tight shoulders. He leaned back and soaked his head and face, happy he’d opted for a warm shower rather than the cold one.
Though he’d intended to take a quick shower, his cock reacted to his soapy fondling. His body ached for release, given he hadn’t had sex, not even jacked off since September.
Garrett leaned back against the wall of the shower, the water flowing across his body. He added a dab of shampoo to the soapy lather on his crotch. In the spirit of his father’s story, he conjured an image of Johnette. Out of nowhere, a whimper convulsed him. He doubled over as his future taunted him. His strokes slowed until a rebellious Eron stepped into his mind’s eye. His grin said, “He’s mine.”
Garrett adjusted the water when it cooled, then squatted down on his heels. He washed a finger free of soap and shampoo and massaged the outside of his willing pucker. Although tight, he managed to breach the muscle. Once inside, ass muscles clamped down on his finger.
He closed his eyes. “Eron.”
Garrett worked his finger in and out as he pumped his cock. His orgasm bubbled deep within his nuts. He pulled out the one finger and added his middle to create a thicker probe. He met more resistance this time, but he pushed through the firm pucker, through the burn, until both fingers rested deep within. Except for the act of coming itself, he’d never experienced anything better than that initial breach of Eron’s cock.
With that sensation in mind, Garrett erupted into the shower stream.
He leaned back against the tile to catch his breath and enjoy the fleeting image of Eron that afternoon. How his sweater framed his well-developed chest and the drape of his slacks…
Garrett sighed. No amount of fantasy changed the fact that he was alone in his shower and the damn water had turned tepid again. He groaned as he pushed himself to standing on cramped legs.
After he was done, Garrett put on a pair of jogging pants and a hooded sweatshirt. He clicked on the TV, and adjusted the rabbit ears until he got a decent picture. He settled on a basketball game while he read the paper that sat neglected from earlier in the morning.
He flipped through the paper, skimmed the headlines, looked at the pictures, until a picture of a handsome young man caught his attention on the last page of the local news section.
Unidentified Man Found in Local Park
An unidentified man’s body was found in the park early Monday morning. Police report that homeless men urinating in the bushes found the body and called police from a nearby pay phone.
There was no identification found on the person and there are no suspects in the case. Police speculate the young man is likely a homosexual prostitute…
Garrett stopped reading and admired the police sketch of the victim. He was young, eighteen or nineteen, no older than twenty. At least in the sketch, he was a nice looking young man.
When he saw Eron earlier in the day, hope surged in him that maybe they could work things out, even just be friends. After his dad’s story on the way home, and the newspaper article, Garrett resigned himself that Eron was right.
As much as he tried to hang on to the memories of their trip to Provincetown, it was all a fairy tale. They had met people making it in the world, but those people didn’t have the obstacles in front of them that he and Eron had. Bob and Dennis ran away to the war and alienated themselves from their families, James and Todd to the city.
If they hadn’t already, he was sure James and Todd would succumb to the pressure as well. Todd’s parents wouldn’t allow their son’s transgressions to stain their reputations. James’ family would probably beat the shit out of him if they found out the true nature of his relationship with Todd.
Garrett rubbed the cold sweat off his forehead. A chill came over him as the horrible thoughts raced in his mind.
To help him move on and get over Eron, he needed to start dating again. There was that new bank teller at work, but it might not be such a good idea to date one of the girls from the office. There were lots of stories during introductions about husbands meeting their wives at work and taking them away from all that, but most of those were the executives and upper management. It might be frowned upon if Garrett did it.
That left only one other person who would immediately say yes to his offer of a date. His stomach rumbled, so he folded the newspaper and threw it on the dining table. As he stood in the chill of the refrigerator debating whether his should make a turkey or ham sandwich, the telephone nearby taunted him.
With a huff, he closed the fridge and grabbed the phone. “Hello, Johnette? Merry Christmas, it’s Garrett.”
* * * *