Kiss and Cry

Henry’s phone rang, and he tapped the screen. “Merry Christmas.” His eyes flicked to me before he scooted his chair closer to his grandpa’s, holding out the phone. Mr. Sakaguchi’s eyes lit up, and he waved.

Well, this was awkward. I guess Henry’s family in Vancouver were awake, so of course they were calling. I jerked my thumb over my shoulder and gave Henry a smile as I stood. He nodded minutely before returning his attention to his phone and the chorus of voices asking questions.

I loitered by the tree, scanning my mom’s texts. Like, yes, fine, I’d do an interview on camera with the network’s human-interest reporter, who’d try to make me cry.

I hadn’t said no, but I was busy. My mom was acting like the fate of my entire career hung in the balance. I scrolled down to the first message from the crack of dawn. She hadn’t even said merry Christmas.

At least during our family Zoom call the night before, my sisters had changed the subject after I gave a short update on how training was going. I’d asked them ahead of time, and they were more than happy to get the family talking about anything else.

I sent off a quick reply saying I’d email the reporter tomorrow. A knot tightened in my gut, but it would be fine. I could talk about Mr. Webber and answer their questions and pull heartstrings for ratings.

Mr. Webber would have hated it. Grief punched me in the throat, my eyes burning with tears as I fought to get my shit together. I could imagine his long-suffering eye roll and biting comment about the network making a meal of his death. Fuck, I missed him so much.

And it wasn’t like I was his only student. Tons of people missed him! His family and friends and people who were way closer to him than I’d been. But as great as Manon and Bill were, I wished so much that I could have finished my career with Mr. Webber at the boards.

The memory of Henry asking about making Mr. Webber proud resurfaced. I did want to make him proud. Even if I didn’t really believe in heaven, I was his last champion, and winning Olympic gold in his name would be a huge accomplishment. I loved winning, but if I could do this to honor Mr. Webber…

I shook off thoughts of the Olympics, feeling strangely guilty about it with Henry right over there. We’d both worked our whole lives for this, but only one of us could win.

“No shit,” I muttered. “This isn’t news.”

“Uh, excuse me?”

I spun to find a family standing nearby wanting to take pics in front of the tree. I moved and offered to take a group shot for them. Then another family asked, and I played photographer for a while, making faces and getting kids to smile.

When I looked back across the room, Henry was watching me. My breath caught at the softness in his eyes. He still held out his phone, but his arm had dropped, and Mr. Sakaguchi nudged him.

Jerking, Henry refocused on the screen. They had to be almost done, so I quietly took my seat, scrolling through Insta as a male voice—probably Henry’s dad—told the elder Mr. Sakaguchi he really should wear his hearing aids.

“We should finish our game,” Henry said.

“Let’s see! Who’s winning?” someone asked. It sounded like Henry’s brother.

Henry turned the phone down over the board, and Sam said, “Wait, who played ‘bike?’ That’s my speed. Ha ha, get it? You and Ojiichan must be having too much eggnog, bro.”

Again, Henry’s gaze flicked to me. He seemed to be debating, and then he swiveled the phone up to face me. On screen, Henry’s parents and brother made identical faces of shock with eyebrows high and mouths open. A tiny old woman who had to be Henry’s grandma smirked.

“Hey!” I waved. “I don’t really know anyone here in Toronto, so Henry took pity on me.” I honestly still wasn’t sure if his grandpa knew I was Henry’s top rival, but the rest of his family sure did.

“Theo!” Henry’s mom said. “Well, uh, merry Christmas. How is your family?”

We small-talked for a minute before Henry’s grandma butted in and asked, “How are you and Henry getting along?”

My gaze flicked to him doing his deer-in-headlights routine. “Uh, good!” I said. “We push each other to be better. Henry’s taught me a lot.”

“Mmm. You know, Henry says he’s too busy for a boyfriend, but he sees you every day now. You should—”

“Obaachan!” Henry snatched back his phone. Of course he was too polite to just hang up, so he said, “Merry Christmas” before disconnecting. The tips of his ears were pink, and I wanted to kiss them.

Soon, the residents were called to lunch. Mr. Sakaguchi shook my hand, clasping mine in both of his as I gave him a respectful nod. Henry stooped to hug him, and his grandpa squeezed him tight, saying, “You’re a good boy.”