Page 43 of Holiday Wishes and Tentacle Dreams
At that moment, Ren did something unexpected. They shot out from their dark cavern out into the wider canyon, allowing themself to become illuminated by the rays of the sun.
“I am still burdened with fear and with sadness. I’m still in pain from the memory of the attack. But I will never stand between you and your bondmate. He wants our families to know one another. That’s worth the risk.”
Doren stared as Ren rocketed away. “Where are you going?!”
“I can’t promise anything. But I’ll speak to your mother and father. I won’t allow them to usemeas an excuse to take the next step with your bondmate.”
With a quick swirl of tentacles, Ren disappeared down the canyon. Would their mom and dad listen? Doren didn’t know.
They did know they were grateful to have Ren in their life.
Chapter Fourteen
JAKE
Squeezing into the driver’s seat of his car, Jake drummed his thumbs against the fake leather of the steering wheel. Unfortunately, the action did nothing to banish his nervous trepidation. He hadn’t heard from Doren for three days. It was now Christmas morning. Jake had spent the last few hours on high alert, standing at the bay window and hoping he’d catch the welcome sight of Doren sliding out of the water in their human form.
So far, though, there’d been no sign of them. He had to leave. If he didn’t get on the road right away, he wouldn’t arrive in time for dinner, and Gram would be sad. That mostly manifested as crankiness for her.
Hopping on the Maine Turnpike, Jake headed south toward Massachusetts. Unlike the drive up to Linwood Falls, there were no picturesque views of the ocean on this route. Instead, there was pavement and forest, miles and miles of evergreens lining the highway.
The trees stirred a sense of unease in Jake’s gut. There was something about the density of them, especially early in the morning before the sun rose higher in the sky, that darkened the road and covered everything in a blanket of melancholy shadow.
Which was silly. Jake was going to Christmas dinner with his grandmother! It was the best day of the year.
Except, was it? Not that he was obsessed with material things, but Jake had always loved the energy of Christmas morning. The presents under the tree, eating cookies for breakfast instead of proper food, all that.
And Jake adored giving presents, but hadn’t gotten to give anyone a gift yet. There’d been no one at the beach house. Doren’s present was still sitting underneath the tree they’d put up together. At least Gram’s was wrapped and in the back seat of his car.
Jake popped on a holiday playlist and let the miles fly by in a blur of jazz-inflected Christmas tunes, trying to forget his worry and uncertainty. He didn’t blame Doren. They were a shapeshifting alien. Of course, there would be trepidation about their family exposing themselves, even if having them there was important to Jake.
But that begged a bigger question. Would Jake be okay with dating someone who was leading a secret life? Was he willing to build a future with Doren, knowing the fear of exposure would always be lurking, just out of sight?
He didn’t know. Tired of spinning his wheels to the accompaniment of Nat King Cole and Burl Ives, Jake switched to the classical lilt of Handel’sMessiah. He needed some majestic underscoring as he flew through the narrow patch of New Hampshire and passed into Massachusetts.
The Hallelujah Chorus was blaring as Jake pulled into his grandmother’s driveway. Nostalgia overcame him at the sight of the large white vinyl-sided apartment building, each of the four separate front entrances featuring a pine wreath. He’d grown up here, moved in when his mom died, and being back was both comforting and a little sad.
Jake headed up to the second entrance from the left. It was his grandmother’s door, and he smiled at the wreath that hung there, larger and brighter than the other three. From the moment he’d established his love of Christmas, Gram had been all in. Each year, she’d thrown herself into making the holiday the absolute best, and not just the day itself, but the entire season.
After all, Christmas itself was a twelve-day event, and that’s not even taking into account the five weeks of glorious celebration before the day arrived. Watching thirty different versions of the Scrooge story, singing drunken carols at a gay bar, finding the perfect presents…it was all part of it, all essential.
“Jakey!” The door opened to reveal Jake’s grandmother, dressed in a red and green sequined cocktail dress. Anyone else might consider it revealing for someone her age, but Jake knew better. The frock wasexactlyher personality, and he wouldn’t begrudge her that.
He went in for the hug before saying anything else, bending down to squeeze the life out of the woman. Jake wasn’t particularly tall himself, but his grandmother was lucky if she reached five feet on a good day.
Gram’s hugs were the best things in the whole world. She gave as good as she got, wrapping her arms around him and engaging every muscle in her tiny body. Her embrace imparted the solidity, the safety, the peace that he was desperate for. Jake could always count on his grandmother, a sense of gratitude filling him at her touch.
She kissed him on the cheek and pushed him up to his full height, her gaze traveling from head to toe and back again.
“So handsome! And have you lost weight?” Gram pursed her bright red-stained lips as she gave him a once-over.
“I definitely have not, but thank you.” Jake stepped into his childhood home, swinging his backpack, which carried a single change of clothes, onto the nearest kitchen chair. The entire house smelled of Christmas: sweet and savory, cinnamon and sage and rosemary and clove. Jake’s eyes went to the nearby hutch, where several pies were laid out next to an enormous tray of chocolate chip cookies.
What had she been up to?
“You madefourpies?” Jake turned to his grandmother, who’d rushed back to the kitchen counter. She must have been cooking something when he got there. Well, cooking was maybe not quite the right word, since at this moment she was sliding cranberry jelly out of a can.
It was another way Jake’s grandmother showed her love for him. She hated canned cranberry sauce, but Jake’s mom had loved it, and by extension so had Jake. The too-smooth exterior, the strange artificial ridges—all of it made him think of his mother. Gram would always make sure they had some at Thanksgiving and at Christmas.