Work Text:
“Drake, get your butt down here, young man!” Jen-Dad called.
“I’m coming!” Dray groused. He rushed down the stairs, almost bumping into his father at the bottom.
“Go on, get some breakfast,” Jen-Dad urged him along. “I want to leave in twenty minutes.”
Dray nodded and let himself be pushed into the kitchen where Leah sat perched on her chair, making a mess of her cereal.
The taller of his fathers leaned against the counter by the sink, head tilted to the side like he always did when he was listening to the news, but he grinned towards the doorway when Dray paused.
“You’re gonna break the stairs one day if you keep stomping like that.”
“Will not,” Dray said, letting his smile be heard in his voice.
“Oh yes, you will. One day, I’ll come downstairs to find you stuck at the waist in a broken step.” His father reached out, fingertips briefly connecting with the window pane before they skimmed lightly over the top of the radio and found the off-button.
“Will I get stuck at the waist, too, Daddy?” Leah asked before Dray could come up with a reply.
“No, honey, you’ll float safely to the ground. Like an angel.” Jay-Dad’s fingers found the refrigerator’s handle. “Dray, something to drink?”
“Milk please.” Dray sat down at the table, turning away from the appetizing sight of Leah digging through her cereal with her fingers in search of the colored pieces in her Lucky Charms, thick glasses sliding down her nose, to watch his father’s hands close around the milk carton, second from the left, flanked by orange juice and vegetable oil.
He found a plastic cup – because it was safer, not because Dray was some sort of little kid – and slipped his pinky into it as he poured, stopping when the liquid reached to the first knuckle.
“Here you are, kiddo,” he said, passing the cup over. He waited until Dray said, quietly, “I’ve got it,” before he let go, found the lid with a little groping and returned the carton to its place.
“Jen-Dad made you an omelet,” he said.
“I can get it,” Dray said, springing to his feet. “You should eat something, too.”
“Already did.” Jay-Dad smiled, but he took a step back and let Dray serve himself from the pan on the stove. He waited until Dray had started eating before he asked, “You excited for today?”
“I guess so,” Dray said, because going Christmas shopping – on his own, for the first time – was a big deal, but he also needed to find the perfect gift this time around, and he wasn’t sure that he would.
“You guess so?” Jay-Dad asked. “Christmas presents, and you guess so?”
“Don’t you want to sit down?” Dray asked in reply.
“If it’ll make you a bit less gloomy, sure,” Jay-Dad said.
Dray pushed a chair out for him in response, and Jay-Dad found his way into it with what Dray strongly suspected was an indulgent smile.
And okay, yeah, maybe he was being a bit of a mother hen (not that he would ever admit that out loud, not even under torture), but it had only been a month, and he was allowed to freak out a little bit. Only a month since Jay-Dad had banged his head on one of the cabinet doors that someone hadn’t latched properly and that had drifted open in the night. He’d played it off, but his forehead had been black and blue for days, and Dray had realized with a jolt that even though Jay-Dad was always smiling, always happy, his father had it
hard
. He was such a good sport about it, always laughing and joking and humming to himself, but his life was so much more difficult than anybody else’s, and Dray was determined to find him the best Christmas present ever to make up for it.
Footsteps in the hall had both Jay-Dad and Dray looking over, Leah too preoccupied with her food to take much notice, and a moment later Jen-Dad, already in his winter boots, stood in the doorway.
“Alright!” He rubbed his hands together. “Who’s ready for some good old-fashioned last-minute Christmas present shipping?”
“Me!” Leah cheered.
“I guess,” Dray murmured.
Jay-Dad laughed. “Definitely not me. You guys have a good time, though.”
“We’ll have a wonderful time,” Jen-Dad announced. “In fact, we’ll have a smashing time, and you’ll deeply regret not coming with us when I tell you all about it tonight.”
“Can’t wait,” Jay-Dad said, but his voice was a little darker than usual, a little deeper, and Jen-Dad looked away with red staining his cheeks.
“Okay, kids, you about ready to go?” He cleared his throat. “Sweetie, stop playing with your food, please. Dray, you want any more?”
“I’m good.” Dray pushed his plate away. “I’ll go get my shoes.”
“And your sister’s, please!” Jen-Dad called after him, and Dray pulled both of them out of the shoe cupboard, lowest shelf, because leaving anything lying on the floor was a very big no-no in this house.
He handed the tiny pink shoes to Leah who still fumbled around with the laces but could handle Velcro just fine on her own, and sat down to tie his own sneakers.
Jen-Dad had made his way over to Jay-Dad in the meantime, and he laid a hand on the other man’s arm to let him know he was there.
“Sure you don’t want to come, babe?” he asked, palm sliding over Jay-Dad’s back.
Jay-Dad laughed, tilting his head up for a kiss that Jen-Dad obligingly delivered. “God no,” he said. “Giant halls crammed with hectic, stressed shoppers with gigantic bags who aren’t looking where they’re going? I think I’ll sit this one out.”
He slid his hand up Jen-Dad’s arm. “Plus, I already got all my presents when Megan took me out last weekend, remember? Don’t worry, you won’t miss out.
Jen-Dad laughed too, brushed his fingers against Jay-Dad’s shoulder before he leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Dick,” he said, so quietly Dray figured he probably wasn’t supposed to hear it.
Jay-Dad grinned. “You love me.”
“You know I do.” He gave Jay-Dad’s shoulder one last squeeze before he turned away. “Alright, kids. Who’s ready to head to the mall?”
The three of them piled into the hallway, reaching for jackets and hats, and Jen-Dad slipped a cap over a protesting Leah’s head.
“Jen?” Jay-Dad appeared in the doorway, one hand guiding him along the wall. “Put on a scarf, please. The radio said it might snow.”
“I’ll be inside, Jay,” Jen-Dad groused, but he still fished his black wool scarf out of the second drawer, next to the mitts and hats.
“Thank you,” Jay-Dad said earnestly, and Jen-Dad rolled his eyes with a smile.
He took his key ring off the far right hook. Next to it were the spare car keys and the keys to the shed, the mailbox keys, then an empty spot, then Jay-Dad’s keys. Jen-Dad had promised Dray his own key once school started again, as long as he remembered to always keep it on its hook or in his pocket, because it was important for them to not make life any harder for Jay-Dad than it had to be.
“Have a good time, guys,” Jay-Dad called as Jen pulled open the front door, letting in a rush of cold air, and they chorused back “Bye, Dad!” as they rushed for the car.
#
The mall wasn’t all that far away, but it seemed to take forever and a day before they managed to find a spot for the car in the overcrowded parking structure, and then another eternity to trek all the way to the mall’s entrance.
Inside was boiling hot compared to the lot and crowded with people, jingles blaring from every speaker, but Jen-Dad found them a quiet spot by a directory sign, pulling off his scarf as he went.
“Alright, Team,” he said. “Here’s the plan: Leah and Dad,” he pointed at himself, “will go shop for presents together, including one for the grandparents. Dray will go off independently, and we will all meet back here in an hour. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Dray said.
“Agreed,” Leah trumpeted.
Jen-Dad turned to Dray. “You’ve got the money you saved?”
Dray nodded. He’d brought it all, including the five dollars Grandpa had slipped him the last time they went over, and he patted his pocket meaningfully.
“Excellent.” Jen-Dad drew his sleeve away from his watch with an exaggerated motion. “Okay, sync up.”
Dray held out his watch and Jen-Dad made a show of checking they matched.
“Synched up,” he announced. “Okay, kid, you’ve got 60 minutes. That means we meet back here, at this sign, at 12:17 pm, okay? Or I’ll get them to call you over loudspeaker.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dray muttered, feeling preemptive heat rising in his cheeks.
“And you won’t be allowed off on your own anymore,” Jen-Dad said, fixing him with a stern look.
Dray straightened his shoulders. “12:17,” he said. “I’ll be here.”
Jen-Dad smiled at him and took Leah’s hand. “Come on, baby girl,” he said. “Let’s go shop.”
“Why can’t
I
go on my own?” Dray heard his sister ask as they walked away and barely made out his his Dad’s, “Just because Dray’s all grown up now, doesn’t mean you have to be,” before they were swallowed up by the crowd of shoppers.
Well. Dray squared his shoulders and pulled on the straps of his backpack. He had shopping to do.
#
Leah was easy. Within moments of walking into the nearest toy store, Dray had found her a fluffy pink unicorn that made his eyes and heart bleed, but his sister would probably love for all eternity.
Paying for it also went on for all eternity, courtesy of the 101 screaming little kids torturing their harried mothers, and by the time Dray had finally managed to get out of there, his ears were ringing and he’d already used up twenty-three precious minutes.
At least he already knew what he wanted to get Jen-Dad: A Shaun the Sheep pencil holder, because Jen-Dad loved Shaun so much that he always sat with Dray and Leah on Saturday mornings when it was on and laughed himself stupid. And a pencil holder because he was forever putting his pencils away somewhere and then forgetting where he put them, and then he ended up writing himself notes with permanent marker or Auntie Mack’s forgotten eyeliner or something equally silly and ineffective.
He found what he wanted in an arts and crafts store, where he bought a card for Grandma and Grandpa on a whim, and after he’d stored both the paper bag and the unicorn in his backpack, he still had about a dozen bucks to spend on the perfect present for Jay-Dad.
Except he had no idea what to get him. And only thirty-two minutes left on the clock.
He walked up to an information point where the lady recommended he get a watch that talked when you touched a button (which was
lame
, and Dray was pretty sure they already had one laying around in a drawer somewhere, gifted by some well-meaning relative) or a cologne (expensive, and as far as Dray knew, Jay-Dad didn’t like smelling like anything but himself), but in general appeared to be stumped by the concept. Like having a blind dad was completely weird.
Dray thanked her anyway, because he had manners, and toyed with the straps of his backpack as he walked away.
He shuffled past a
Body Works
(again with Jay-Dad not liking perfumey stuff so much) and a wedding dress place (obviously not. And besides, Jay-Dad had done the proposing, if Dray remembered right) before he got to a Virgin Megastore. Jay-Dad loved music, but he didn’t like getting CDs because he could never tell which ones they were. He did have a pretty big audio book collection that Jen-Dad printed special dotted labels for, and he had an iPod shuffle that Jen-Dad made sure was always fully charged and up to date.
He shuffled past a bookstore (again, obviously not) with only nineteen minutes to go, and a Hot Topic, and a Starbucks, and a place selling kids’ clothes before something finally drew his attention.
There was a tiny little shop wedged in between a Sports store and a place selling lots of high heels. It was called
Odd!ties
, and the things displayed in the window definitely were. There was a door stopper shaped like a foot, antlers you wore on your head with a tiny Santa hat between them, and a clock without numbers. But it was the set of wind chimes that convinced him to push open the door, because even if his Dad wouldn’t be able to see Dray’s gift, maybe this shop had something that he’d enjoy anyway.
Inside was dim and warm. There was stuff everywhere, spread over every available surface and even the floor, and Dray’s first thought was that he could never, ever bring Jay-Dad here, even if the place turned out to be amazing.
There were a few other people inside; a lady in an elegant black coat looking at paper weights, a guy in front of a display of oddly shaped mirrors, and another woman loading up her arms with little stuffed mice, telling the girl behind the counter with her roots showing all about how cute they were. The girl nodded along, but she appeared more focused on tacking up a sign that read
Gift Wrapping $3
than the woman’s blathering.
They all looked up when Dray came in, and he dropped his eyes and muttered “Sorry” as he shuffled away from the door. He side-stepped a few painted vases and ducked past a creepy-looking collection of toothbrush holders shaped like mouths and a stand full of umbrellas with their handles shaped like cat heads, and then he had reached the wall and something a bit more suitable as a present for his dad.
There were a few music boxes set up along one shelf; several copies of one with a ballerina, a carousel with moving horses, and then a single one, still closed, tucked into the corner. It was covered in detailed, finely designed goldfish and shells and seaweed, but they weren’t printed or painted on – no, they were carved into the wood, and Jay-Dad would be able to trace them,
see
them, with his fingertips. It reminded Dray of something his father had once said to him when they were at the zoo, when Leah had been new, nothing more than a wrinkly-faced little blob, and Dray had been almost physically incapable of not asking questions.
Jen-Dad had taken off to change Leah’s diaper, and Dray had stayed with Jay-Dad, clinging to his neck, both of them turned towards the tiger enclosure although only one of them could see them.
"Doesn’t it make you sad?” he’d asked, squinting against the bright spring sun. “Not seeing things?”
“Not really,” Jay-Dad replied slowly. “Of course I wish I could see what your daddy looks like, or you and your sister. But with most things, it’s not so bad, you know, because I can feel them instead. I can smell them, and hear them, and touch them.”
“Even the tigers?” Dray had asked, voice going high and breathless.
“Even the tigers.” Jay-Dad grinned, shifting his hips a little, but his arm stayed firmly around Dray. “You know, a little while after college, when your daddy and I were already dating but we weren’t married yet, we went on a trip to South Africa. We climbed Table Mountain and built some houses with Habitat for Humanity and we went to see an opera in Cape Town.”
One of the tigers got up, stretched and yawned, but instead of saying anything about it, Dray turned back to his daddy.
“And then?” he asked.
“And then, one day, your daddy said we were going on a safari. And I thought, ‘What an insensitive di- guy. What am I supposed to get out of sitting in a cart for five hours while everybody else looks at wild animals?’ But I didn’t say anything, because if it made your daddy happy, then I wanted him to be able to see it, you know? Because he shouldn’t miss out on all the amazing things in life just because I can’t see.
“And then-“ Jay-Dad laughed, caught in the memory. “And then, when we got there, and I was all geared up to sit in an uncomfortable car all day, listening to everybody else talk about how amazing it was – then your daddy took me to the park’s care station and I got to pet an injured giraffe and play with orphaned tiger cubs and a really old elephant nosed through my hair.”
He ran his hand over Dray’s hair, and Dray didn’t say anything when he almost got poked in the ear.
“So yes, I have touched tigers. It was the most amazing time I had on that entire trip. The entire bus ride back to the hotel, I couldn’t stop telling your daddy that I loved him.”
“That’s so cool,” Dray breathed. “Do you think I can touch tigers one day?”
“I’m sure you can, buddy,” Jay-Dad said, laughing, and that’s when Jen-Dad appeared next to them with a happily gurgling Leah strapped to his chest.
“You okay, boys?” he asked. “Up for lunch? Lugging the little one around all day is making me hungry.”
He took the lead at their nods. Jay-Dad set Dray down and they trailed after him, hand in hand, Jay-Dad with his walking stick held closely by his side, relying on Dray to steer him around any obstacles.
“You know what I wish I could see, though?” he'd said after a moment. “Fish. They’re too fast to touch when they’re alive, and I don’t want to pet a dead one. That’s a little macabre.” He hesitated. “They must be so beautiful.”
“Mostly they’re just grey,” Dray said, and Jay-Dad laughed, and Jen-Dad turned around to demand what on Earth they were talking about.
#
With trembling fingers, half-convinced it was going to fall apart the moment he touched it, Dray undid the simple hook-lock and pushed the lid open. Inside were more fish, and waves, and a mermaid sitting on a rock while a man in a fishing boat rowed round and round.
The song, though, Dray recognized immediately. It was the beginning of Handel’s Water Music, Suite 1, if a tinny version of it, and it was Jay-Dad’s favorite song of all time. He hummed it almost every school day morning when he made coffee, and in the shower, and when he was on hold on the phone, and if the fish hadn’t convinced Dray that this was it, the song definitely sealed the deal.
He closed the lid again, carefully, and lifted the box to peer underneath, but there was no sticker to tell him how much it cost.
A quick glance at his watch told him he only had eleven more minutes before Jen-Dad paged him over loudspeaker, and he bit his lip.
The elegant lady was still busy with the paperweights, but the man had moved on to a bunch of plastic figurines, a lampshade tucked under his arm. The woman with the mice had just dumped all of her stuff on the counter in front of the cashier. God, that would take forever. But then she said, “Give me just one second to look at these adorable little frogs,” and the sales girl smiled, and Dray seized his chance.
He tried on his biggest smile. “Excuse me, Miss?” he called.
She came out from behind the till and Dray had a moment to take in her skintight jeans and giant Nikes while she picked her way over to him.
“Yeah, kid?” she asked.
Dray managed not to roll his eyes, because
both
his daddies always told him to be polite to strangers. “Can you tell me how much this is?” he asked instead.
She lifted the box to look at the bottom, and Dray managed not to roll his eyes at that, either, but it was harder this time.
“Gee,” she muttered. “Where did this thing even get here?” She flipped over one of the boxes with the ballerinas. “Uh, 17.99, I guess?”
Dray’s stomach flipped painfully. That was definitely more than he had left. Maybe he could bring back the card… but that would take too long and still leave him short. Or he could go meet Jen-Dad and Leah first and then try to figure out the money, but then they’d want to come with him and Leah would blab for sure, and it wouldn’t be the perfect gift if it wasn’t a surprise.
His only hope was that he’d magically overlooked a huge wad of money in his pockets, so he dug up everything he could reach. “I have thirteen dollars and,” he rummaged through his pockets, “fifty-four cents. So that leaves me five short?”
“Plus, like, a buck for tax,” the girl said.
Tax. He’d forgotten all about the damn tax, and now the music box, the greatest gift ever, was completely out of reach.
“No!” he burst out, horrified at himself for his childish behavior, but unable to stop the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. “No. This is perfect. I can’t just be short.”
The sales girl cracked her gum sympathetically but didn’t say anything, and Dray tried to surreptitiously wipe at his nose.
“Who is it for?” someone asked suddenly, and when he whirled around, the elegant lady was smiling at him.
“W-what?” he asked.
“The music box.” She nodded at it. “I assume it’s intended as a present?” At his nod, she repeated, “Who is it for?”
“Uh, my dad.” He looked down at his sneakers. They were scuffed and worn, unlike the lady’s polished leather boots. “He can’t see, and he loves this song, and he’d finally get to touch fish.”
He doubted it made much sense to her, but her smile was still brilliant. She pulled out her wallet and held a bill out to him. “Here’s five,” she said. “That’s all the cash I have on me at the moment, but I’m sure this lovely girl wouldn’t mind pointing me towards an ATM?"
The girl jolted back. “That’s alright,” she said. She managed to stuff her hand into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a crumpled dollar. “That’ll take care of tax,” she said.
“Here, kid.”
Dray turned on his heel to find the man with the lampshade holding out another fiver.
“Get it wrapped, if you want.”
“Thank you,” Dray murmured, the note clutched tightly between his fingers. “But there’s no time. I have to be back in-“ gulp “-seven minutes, and all of you were here before me.”
“Oh, I don’t mind waiting five minutes,” the man said, and the elegant lady nodded.
The woman at the till pushed all of her stuffed mice to the side. “Go ahead,” she said. “Might do my husband some good if dinner’s not ready on the dot for once.”
“Come on,” the cashier said. She took Dray’s hand, and for once, he didn’t mind so much.
“We don’t have time to dillydaddle.”
With careful, careful fingers, Dray lifted the box off the shelf with his free hand and let the cashier lead him to the register. On the way, she pulled a white cardboard box with black trimmings out from behind a sign that said $3.99, but when he opened his mouth to protest, she winked at him.
“Can’t sell you something without a box, now,” she said.
She rang him up and began wrapping with speedy fingers while he rifled through all of his pockets one more time for any leftover change to dump in the tip jar, and then he was – carefully – stuffing the present into his backpack with three minutes left to make it halfway across the mall.
“Thank you!” he called on his way out the door. “Thank you so much,” and he was sprinting down the hall before they had a chance to reply.
#
Jen-Dad and Leah were already waiting by the directory when Dray got there, having some sort of quiet conversation before Dray threw himself into his father’s arms.
“Hey there, kid,” Dad said with a laugh. He patted Dray on the back, glanced at his watch. “And right on time, too. Good boy.”
“Hi Dray,” Leah said loudly. “Daddy and me got you something awesome.”
“Yes, and we aren’t going to talk about it until he’s opened it, remember?”
“I got you something awesome, too,” Dray assured her, and Leah beamed at him before she asked what it was, and Jen-Dad just gave him a proud smile.
#
They stayed at the mall for a little while longer, having lunch at the food court and getting their picture taken with Santa, all three of them because even though Jen-Dad and Dray were too old, Leah had almost burst into panicked tears at the thought of going on her own. Then they went back to the food court for cinnamon rolls and Leah insisted on drawing a picture of Santa with a sparkly pink hat in the kids’ play area, and by the time Jen-Dad carried Leah out to the car, Dray trailing behind with their bags, it was pitch-black outside.
“Won’t Dad worry?” Dray asked. He still held all their shopping while Jen-Dad buckled Leah in, her fingers clumsy on the buckle.
“Nah, I told him we’d be back late.” Jen-Dad closed the door. His gaze lingered on Dray for a moment. “You wanna sit up front?”
“Yes,” Dray said immediately. He always wanted to, especially since he’d finally grown big enough to two months ago, but he rarely got to because Leah usually pitched a fit when he did.
She looked too out of it to care at the moment, though, and Dray happily threw all his bags into the trunk, although he took his backpack with him to the passenger side.
Leah’s head began to droop once they’d left the busy, brightly lit streets around the mall and the car hummed along the quiet highway. Dray kept his hands closed around the straps of his backpack, but he could feel his own eyes growing tired, and he leaned his forehead against the icy window.
After a while, Jen-Dad glanced at him quickly. “Look, Dray,” he said, pointing out the windshield. “Snow.”
And there was, little specks of white whirling against the dark sky, dancing and twirling in a dizzy-making rhythm.
Dray glanced at his father, because he knew Jen-Dad worried about driving when it was cold sometimes. Because of black ice. But it had been dry for the last couple of days, and there was a reassuring smile on his dad’s face, and Dray allowed himself to relax into the seat.
Jen-Dad flicked the radio on. It was set to some Christmassy station, possibly the Christian one that Jay-Dad preferred over the holidays because it played “the good stuff, none of that pop-y BS,” and a low carol that Dray remembered from his choir class at school filled the cabin.
Leah shifted but didn’t wake up, and after a moment, Dray allowed himself to sing along. Jen-Dad grinned at him, reached over to ruffle his hair. “You’re a good kid, Dray,” he said, and Dray had to stop singing for a moment because he was smiling so wide.
#
Say what you will about last minute shopping, but Dray found himself glad that they hadn’t gone sooner over the next couple of days. The music box sat in his backpack underneath the bed, but it remained on the forefront of his mouth: when they were baking cookies in the kitchen, all four of them; when Leah hung little metal goldfish on the lowers branched of the tree; wen Jay-Dad lay on the bed in the master bedroom with the stereo playing
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
.
So it was sort of a relief when Dray was finally woken by Leah pounding on his bedroom door, yelling at him to get up because it was
Christmas
and the daddies had said they couldn’t open any presents until Dray was there.
Dray shuffled into the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth, heart flip-flopping madly in his chest. Yeah, it was Christmas, but it was also the day Jay-Dad would open his present, and Dray had no idea what he would do if his father didn’t like it.
It was funny, but in some ways it seemed even more important than his own presents. Yeah, it would suck if he didn’t like them, but his parents always kept the receipts, just in case. But Jay-Dad liking his gift was the only thing he thought about as he shuffled down the stairs. (Okay, not the
only
thing. After all, there were presents to think about, and stockings, and the tree. But it was still at the forefront of his mind.)
“You okay, kid?” Jen-Dad asked, leaning his head back against the headrest of his armchair.
Jay-Dad had a seat on the couch, and he smiled in Dray’s direction. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Usually you thump up and down these stairs like a rhino, and today is the day you decide to act like a civilized person?”
“Yeah!” Leah agreed, bouncing around at the base of the tree. “Come on, slowpoke. Presents!”
Dray’s smile was a little wobbly, but it held. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He shuffled around the couch and sat down on the ground next to it, across from Jen-Dad. “Come on, hit me,” he said.
Leah shrieked and pounced on the presents. “This one’s for me!” she said, pushing it off to the side. “And this one’s for Jen-Dad. And one for Dray. Two!”
She gave one to Jay-Dad who took it, laughing as he weighed it in his hand. “Gee, Jen, another audio book?” He let it drop into his lap. “What a shocker.”
“Shut up, you love them,” Jen-Dad said, but he was laughing, and he touched Jay-Dad’s shoulder gently before he leaned over and kissed him, the other man meeting him half-way.
“One for Jen-Dad!” Leah crowed, dumping it in the man’s lap and breaking them apart.
And so she went, dividing presents until there was a small part for each of them, though Dray’s and Leah’s were noticeably bigger than their parents.’
Dray looked down at the pile of presents in front of him. One of them, a big one, was labeled
From Jen-Dad and Leah
. Dray still didn’t know what it was, mostly because Jen-Dad had taken to clapping a hand over Leah’s mouth whenever the topic came up. But still, when Jen-Dad said, “Okay,
go
!” with a twinkle in his eyes and Leah began tearing at the wrapping paper of her own biggest box, Dray found himself reluctant to follow suit.
It only took a moment for Jen-Dad to notice. “Dray? What is it?”
Leah glanced up from her present for only a moment before she went back to tearing at the paper, but Jen-Dad’s eyes stayed on Dray, and a moment later, Jay-Dad’s face turned in his direction as well.
“Dray?” he asked.
“Can you open my present?” Dray asked, and his voice came out pitifully small.
“Me?” Jay-Dad’s big hands obediently slid over the boxes in his lap. “Which one is it?”
“The big one. With the bow.”
His father’s fingers found it easily, pushing the other two off his lap and onto the couch cushion next to him. “It’s heavy,” he said.
“Be careful with it,” Dray said.
And Jay-Dad was. He eased apart the paper, and he didn’t rattle the box once, and he pulled the lid open with the utmost care before he pushed the wrapping aside and set the box on his thighs.
Leah murmured a soft “oh,” and out of the corner of Dray’s eyes, Jen-Dad’s looked rather wide, but he forced himself to stay focused on Jay-Dad, on the way the man’s fingers traced over the wood.
“They’re goldfish,” Dray said quietly. “Because you told me that time at the zoo that you wished you could touch them, and now you can, and I know you like that song-“
Dray abruptly ran out of words and closed his mouth, heart pounding.
His father ran his fingers over the carvings, lips curving into a smile, and then he eased open the latch and pulled the lid open.
The moment the music started, Jay-Dad’s sightless eyes went wide.
“What?” he asked softly, and then he closed the lid hastily and clutched the box between his fingers. After a moment of silence, he suddenly set the box aside and threw open his arms. “God, Drake, come here.”
Dray wasted no time scrambling into the offered embrace. “You like it?” he asked.
“I like it. I love it.” Jay-Dad pressed a kiss into Dray’s hair. “I love you, so much.”
“And me!” Leah announced, pawing at Jay-Dad’s hands, and the man burst out laughing. “And you, Angel.” He pulled Leah between them, and then Jen-Dad was there, kissing Dray’s forehead and whispering “Thank you,” and Dray knew why, even if he didn’t fully understand.
#
Dray woke to the sound of soft laughter. He could see the tree, still lit, so he must have fallen asleep on the couch, and someone had draped a comforter over him. He had the Game Boy Advance he’d gotten still clutched under one arm, and he could see Leah curled up in the armchair with her new unicorn.
It took him a moment to spot his parents sitting up against the wall, half-hidden behind the low-hanging branches of the tree, and they didn’t seem to have realized he was awake.
“Open,” Jen-Dad said, pulling a chocolate from the box at their feet and pushing it into Jay-Dad’s waiting mouth.
Jay-Dad moaned in appreciation, and Jen-Dad gave him a quick kiss, as usual preceded by a quick touch to his shoulder.
“God, how did I get to be so lucky?” Jay-Dad asked.
“No idea,” was Jen-Dad’s reply.
“I must have done something good in a previous life.” Jay-Dad reached for the box of candy. “Open.”
“Something amazing,” Jen-Dad agreed before he parted his lips, but Jay-Dad missed his mouth and mashed the chocolate into his cheek instead, and they both dissolved into helpless laughter.
And well, Dray thought as he closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into the cushions, maybe Jay-Dad’s life was a bit different from theirs, but that didn’t mean it was all bad.
TheHappyEnd