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CONNOR

T hanksgiving break came and went—I had gotten most of my research paper written, and all I needed to do was summarize it. On Thanksgiving Day, Mom decided she wasn’t going to cook since I wouldn’t be headed home, so my aunt, who lived just outside Portland, took pity on her and Kyle and invited them over.

I’d chatted with Mom on Thanksgiving morning, but I needed to call her and let her know Spencer had agreed to stay for Christmas break. Having him stay would be easy. Our house had a guest room, thanks to Kyle getting his own place. I took the phone from my pocket and called her.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she answered after the first ring

I was surprised at how quickly she’d answered. “Were you holding your phone when I called?” I asked, laughing.

“It was sitting right next to me, and I saw your caller ID. You know I love hearing from you.”

“I know.” A guilty pang hit my chest. “But we did just chat on turkey day,” I said, reminding her.

There was a brief silence. “It’s funny you call it turkey day. Your father used to refer to it like that too.” Her silence was warranted as she recalled the memory,

I huffed a pleasant hum into the phone and changed the subject.

“Well, the reason I’m calling is to let you know my friend Spencer will be coming with me for Christmas break. With his family on a holiday cruise, I know he’ll miss not being with some sense of family on Christmas. Plus, the two of us can terrorize Portland,” I said, finishing that last comment with a semi-evil laugh.

“Oh, it’ll be fun having all you boys here Christmas Day,” she beamed.

It felt like the best time to warn her about inviting Mason. She’d need to know for food and adding a setting to the table.

“Mom, there’s one other thing regarding Christmas,” I said sheepishly, wincing with one eye closed. “I have a special friend who might be coming to Portland, and I sorta invited him to join us for Christmas dinner.”

“A special friend?” she asked in a surprised tone. “How special?”

I sensed hope in her voice.

I took a deep breath. “His name is Mason, and we’re getting to know each other.”

Her exuberant response made me pull the phone away from my ear. “Oh sweetheart, that makes me so happy, and at Christmas time too. I can’t wait to meet him!” I’d never heard her sound so excited about someone I was interested in. I chalked it up to holiday spirit.

“He hasn’t said he’ll make it for sure, but he said he’d try. It will probably be last minute,” I replied. I hoped she wouldn’t want to know everything about him over the phone. Mom was prone to getting to know someone one-on-one. She’d always been that way with anyone Kyle and I introduced her to.

“Well, that would be lovely, dear. And again, I can’t wait to meet him.”

“I know you’ll drill him with questions. You always do your due diligence,” I retorted teasingly.

She seemed happy and excited, and I wanted to end on that note. “Okay, Mom, I gotta run, but I’m sure we’ll chat again before Spencer and I head over. Tell Kyle hello when you see him.”

“I will. Take care, sweetheart. I love you,” she replied

“Love you too, Mom.” I disconnected the call and put the phone back in my pocket.

I could have told her more about Mason, especially since he was the reason I got to university on time, but that nagging feeling about his age and how they’d react kept my excitement about introducing him at bay.

I was about to meet up with Spencer at the dorm, where we’d planned on having a Call of Duty game night in his room. Maybe if I talked to him about my nagging feelings, it might put things in perspective, and I wouldn’t be so concerned.

“I can’t believe the number of kills you’re scoring, You’re picking them off faster than I can spot them.” Spencer barked as we battled WWII enemies.

I huffed a laugh. “I’m better than you, that’s all,” I replied, as I stayed focused on the screen, my thumbs flying on the controller.

Neither one of us was a TV watcher, but Spencer had a sizable monitor connected to his Xbox console. When we visited each other’s rooms, mine was usually for studying, and his was for gaming.

After about an hour of non-stop play, I was ready for a break. “Do you have any diet soda in your mini fridge?” I asked.

“Of course, dear boy. Grab me one while you’re at it.” I decided not to chide him again about his lust for diet cola. I rarely drank soda, but I’d left my water bottle in my room.

I retrieved the sodas and handed him a cola. “I called my mom today to let her know you’d be coming with me for Christmas. She’s happy about it and looks forward to meeting you. She said she’d have the guest room prepared.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “We’re ready for this break, and we need to figure out when we’ll be hitting Portland’s hot gay bars while we’re there.” His exuberance in hitting the bar scene in my hometown was exhausting. But that was life with a golden retriever.

I remained quiet.

“You seem off tonight,” Spencer said. “What’s going on? Our break is coming up, and we both have this term in the bag already.” I glanced up from my soda and noticed he wore a slight frown.

I sighed. “I told Mom Mason might be joining us for dinner if he made it to town. I told her he was a special friend. She was ecstatic.” A few seconds ticked by before I continued. “The thought of having him show up gives me butterflies, but I don’t want Mom or my brother to freak out about his age or what he does for a living. That could ruin dinner and our time there.”

Spencer looked at me sternly with a furrowed brow. “Why in the hell are you writing scripts in your head about what might happen? For one, Mason may not even show up, and you’re expecting the worst from your family. This is supposed to be the happy time of year. You need to start acting like it. You always overthink things.”

I hadn’t expected him to be so damn blunt. I’d wanted a sympathetic ear, not a lecture. I realized, though, that Spencer had always told me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear.

I looked at him, threw an arm over his shoulder, and tapped his soda can. “You’re right. I’m worrying over stuff that might not even happen. I’m sorry. You know I have a habit of getting worked up over nothing.”

He tapped my can back. “Of course I’m right; I’m always right,” he said with a smirk, pulling me over and giving me a quick kiss on my temple.

I rolled my eyes and decided to stop worrying. I wondered if all golden retrievers were that annoyingly happy.