The Geek Who Saved Christmas

“Okay.” Brandon seemed more than a little relieved to be off the hook for helping. “After dinner, let’s walk to see the neighborhood lights.”

“Excellent idea.” I nodded before I realized I’d essentially invited myself along.

But Paul was nodding too, so I didn’t take it back. And dinner went splendidly. Paul and I cooked together like we’d been doing Christmas Eve for years, me chopping, him searing, the sounds of the movie a comforting soundtrack, almost like I’d been here before and would be again.

Dinner conversation was also easy. Because Paul didn’t actually need me playing host to ensure things went well, it was nice to simply hang out, no requirement to be quick with a joke. With certain friend circles, I always felt this pressure to perform. Be witty. Be the one with the tastiest dish, the funniest one-liner, earn a repeat invitation.

But here, I felt less like a guest and more part of the group. Elaine told us about Brandon’s cooking disasters, and he countered with stories about what Paul made him eat when Paul himself was first learning to cook. Through it all, I let the good feelings swirl around me until my mouth ached from smiling so much.

We had wine with dinner, making my muscles loose and warm before our lights outing. Tired of cookies, we’d lingered over the cheesecake Paul had picked up as per my menu. I did love it when a plan played out perfectly.

“The wine was a nice touch,” Paul said as we put on our coats and gloves in the kitchen.

“It was.” I nodded, entirely unprepared for his swift cheek kiss.

“Let’s go,” Brandon called from the front door while my skin was still warm from Paul’s lips. Brandon was as eager as a kid expecting Santa in the morning.

“Oh, my goodness! The dog is ready.” Elaine laughed as Paul put Jim on her leash. Jim was back in her tracksuit, this time with the addition of some antlers I’d found at the same shop I’d bought her Grinch toy.

I’d walked the neighborhood many times the last few weeks, but I saw it with fresh eyes now. Brandon and Elaine walked slowly, full of awe, noticing little details I’d missed, like the lit ballerina twirling in the Reeds’ front window or how the snowperson family at the Jordan house all had matching sweaters with a J on them. Cheryl’s driveway was packed and lively piano sounds filtered out to the sidewalk. The Clark family’s display had piped-in music, and the line of car traffic slowed for gawkers to enjoy their animated figurines moving in time to “Jingle Bells.”

“Look! You have reindeer on the roof,” Elaine crowed with even more delight than she’d had for Jim’s outfit as we turned a corner with a great view of Paul’s house.

“So I do.” Paul shrugged as if he’d forgotten they were there. “Gideon made me.”

“I like Gideon.” Brandon clapped me on the shoulder.

“Me too.” Elaine linked arms with me. Lowering her voice and slowing her steps, she whispered, “Tell me a picture of Brandon in the lab isn’t a ridiculous present for Paul. I’m having second thoughts.”

“It’s perfect.” My chest got tight simply watching Paul and Brandon together ahead of us, both tall and broad-shouldered with the same easy strides. Paul had done so damn much to get Brandon to this point, given up far more than most would have.

“Good.” Elaine smiled. “Brandon got him concert tickets to some band he used to play in the truck when taking Brandon to school. There are two tickets, although we both joked he’d give the second one to Jim.”

“Also perfect.” I kept my voice light. Maybe that would be another post-holiday excuse to see Paul. Or maybe he’d give the other ticket to the human Jim, and that would be that.

“What did you get him?” Elaine asked.

I actually had something, but I hadn’t been sure about whether to give it or not. “A surprise.”

“Ooh, a private one?” Her eyes danced like the gold lights of the house ahead of us.

“Not that kind.” I blushed harder than I would have thought possible.

“Darn.” She laughed and swung my arm. “We’re both so happy for Paul. Seriously. Brandon worries about him, all alone and broody.”

“He does do grumpy well,” I agreed as we caught up to him and Brandon, who had slowed to wait for us.

“That house is so sad.” Brandon had stopped in front of the Morrisons’ house, and Paul was also frowning up at its dark facade.

“Yup.” As always, I saw both the current state of the house with the deteriorating exterior and the darkened windows and the past with what had once been every room lit and a huge tree in the front bay window. So many times, I had played the what-if game standing here, deciding what I would do if I’d ended up with the place. I let out a little sigh, and it was Paul, not Elaine, who took my hand and held it fast.

“Tell them about your grandparents,” he urged as we resumed walking. I obliged, expecting my wistful mood to continue. But for once, the memories didn’t hurt. It felt good to share. The memories were mine, a part of me. I was lucky to have as many as I did. Brandon reacting earlier to the cookbook had reminded me of that. My wealth of special memories were treasures.

“Somehow, even on Christmas morning, my grandfather had a pressed shirt and tie on before coffee.” I drew myself up taller into an approximation of my grandpa’s perfect posture, and everyone laughed.

“Gee. Who else does that sound like?” Paul squeezed my hand. “Gideon has holiday bow ties. As in multiple. So far, I’ve counted three plaid, two snowmen, and one gingerbread cookie.”

“You’ve kept track of my ties?”