Andy’s Gift

Part Ten: The Gift

“There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.”

Chris did not return immediately to his guests. Instead, he busied himself with hauling out the pies and other desserts from the pantry. Tears glazed his eyes as he worked, and he couldn’t think straight. He had known Douglas since he was nineteen. ‘Thirteen years he’s been my friend,’ he thought, ‘thirteen fucking years!’ How had all this happened? He placed the pies on the counter and began jerking their saran coverings off one by one. It was getting harder and harder to see. The pies became nothing but a blur as tears slowly started to streak his face, and at first he just swiped at them, doing his best to continue his preparations. At last, however, he could no longer fight; he just sagged against the counter, leaning back and covering his face as sobs racked his shoulders. ‘How could he do this?’ he agonized. ‘How could he fucking do this?’

Quietly, Eliza entered the kitchen. Chris’ fast thinking had prevented most of his family and friends from looking too deeply into Douglas’ odd behavior, but Eliza was not so easily deterred. She had already known that things were not altogether right in her baby brother’s world and her growing concern coupled with the natural instinct of an older sister led her to seek him out when he did not return immediately from overseeing Douglas’ departure. Her heart dropped now as she saw him and every protective instinct she had was ignited. “Oh Baby,” she whispered.

Chris looked up and quickly brushed at his tears, but he knew it was too late to hide them and as he met his sister’s maternal expression, he caved in completely. Quickly she approached and as she wrapped her arms around him, he buried his face on her shoulder and clung to her, finally letting it all go. “Baby,” she whispered again, but she said nothing more as she held him. Chris would talk when and if he was ready. She had learned a long time ago not to push boundaries with her sensitive and private little brother. It was useless, the harder she pushed, the further he would retreat. All she could do was be here when he needed her, and moments like this for Chris were few and far between.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, finally, as Chris began to calm some. He rubbed his face against her shoulder.

“You can help me with the pies!” he sobbed.

“Of course, Baby!” she kissed her brother’s forehead, smiling indulgently. “Of course I’ll help you with the pies.” She held him until he had quieted completely, and finally he looked up at her. She cupped his face in his hands and looked seriously at him, brushing at the last of his stubborn tears with her thumbs. “Are you going to be ok?” she asked softly. Chris bit his lip and swiped at the tears his sister had missed, but then he nodded. Liz regarded him silently for another moment, but then with a little sigh kissed her brother’s head again, and let him go, turning to the pies as he went to the sink to wash his face. That was all the response she was going to get, clearly. She would have to accept it for now.

“There you are,” Alex started as Liz and Chris brought the pies, brownies and sugar cookies from the kitchen and placed them on the table. “We were beginning to wonder what happened to you . . ., are you ok?” he examined his brother’s face closely as Chris took his seat. Chris nodded, but didn’t speak. He really didn’t trust his voice at the moment. “What happened?” Alex persisted. He still received no response, and his brow darkened. “Did Douglas say something?” He placed his hand on Chris’ arm, and Chris looked away.

Liz looked up from where she was beginning to cut the pies, “Let it go, Xander,” she cautioned softly, and Chris’ older brother and sister shared a long look. They were the two oldest of six, Alex having just a little over a year on his sister, and they were both fiercely protective of Chris who was the youngest. Alex was not as skilled as his sister at recognizing when to push and when not to push. On this occasion, however, he reluctantly took his cue from her and let the subject drop.

Dessert was a long, torturous affair for Chris. As fond as he generally was of apple pie, especially Liz’s apple pie, he ate little to none of the piece he had, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the sugar cookies he and Andy had made together. The little snowmen were Andy’s favorite, and there was a slight moment of awkwardness as Chris snatched the last ones from under his brother, Kyle’s, nose, only to set them untouched on his already full plate. Liz and Alex became more and more concerned and continued to trade periodic looks with one another, but they did not pry. Neither would they let anybody else pursue the matter as Chris’ obvious funk filtered down and alerted his remaining brother and sisters that all was not right.

The conversation and general noise and chatter continued, albeit a little more soberly, until finally everyone had eaten as much dessert as they could hold, and quietly Chris began the clean up process with Liz and Alex’s help. They worked in companionable silence, Alex and Liz each privately hoping that Chris would volunteer the source of his by now evident distress. All the rest of their family gave them their space, understanding on an intuitive level, as they were shooed out of the kitchen, what their oldest sister and brother’s intentions were.

Alex and Liz had always helped their parents with the younger children in the family, and their younger brothers and sisters looked up to them. Their parents had died when Chris especially was still very young. He’d been just five when they lost their father and their mother had died five years later of cancer. Alex and Liz had practically raised him, and if he was going to confide in anybody, other than Andy, it would be one of them.

Their efforts now, however, were in vain. Chris stood at the sink rinsing plates and Alex placed them carefully in the dishwasher while Liz covered the left over food and placed it wherever she could make room for it. Chris’ brother and sister kept glancing at one another hopefully, but Chris never said a word, and Liz and Alex did not ask.

Chris sighed. He knew how worried Alex and Liz were about him. He had learned to read them long ago. He wanted to tell them everything, but he just couldn’t. He considered, as he continued washing, telling them what had happened with Douglas, the tragedy of the Christmas present, and what had happened just now in the hallway. They would certainly understand his throwing Douglas out. Hell he didn’t even need an excuse. They’d been urging him to do just that for years. He could tell them that part only, he thought, still keeping his eyes on the plates he was washing. He knew Liz and Alex were watching him, but he felt unable to meet their eyes. ‘I can’t tell them,’ he thought. ‘It comes too close to the discipline, and they would never understand that. Besides,’ he thought darkly, ‘it’s none of their business,’ and that was an end to the matter.

The kitchen was clean now, the dishwasher was running, Andy’s snowmen, seized mercifully from the jaws of an early death, were resting contentedly on a fresh plate carefully wrapped in saran wrap, and finally the remaining friends and family who had gathered for a last nightcap in the living room began to say goodnight. Their remaining friends, most of whom were single or at least childless, departed first. Kyle left shortly after that with his fiancé. Then, Emily and Megan gathered their little families and took their leave, and finally only Alex, Tracy, Liz, Jim and the children were left. Liz turned to Chris after putting on her coat. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok, Baby?” she asked softly. Chris nodded, but he wasn’t too convincing and Alex paused as he too began to put his coat on.

“You sure you don’t want to tell us what’s going on, Bro?” he asked in the same undertone his sister had used. The three of them were alone in the hallway, and Chris hesitated. Liz and Alex waited, but then their brother shook his head.

“I’m ok,” he managed in a somewhat choked voice, and Liz wrapped him in her arms. He laid his head against her shoulder and breathed in her perfume, nestling against her and feeling momentarily comforted. Tracy appeared now with her two daughters tagging reluctantly after her. They had been playing with Jake, Rebecca, and Alice and they were not yet ready to go. At their mother’s bidding, however, they put their coats on along with their mittens and hats and then dutifully kissed their Uncle Chris goodnight.

“Thank you Uncle Chris! It was fun!” they chorused, giving a little wave to their three cousins who now also appeared on the horizon. Rebecca and Alice waved disappointedly, and even Jake seemed a little sad to see them go. Jim emerged a moment later from the living room, carrying the drooping Bonnie in his arms.

“Tell Uncle Andy we hope he feels better,” Alicia said, hugging her uncle tight and looking up at him.

“I will sweetheart, thank you,” Chris gave her an extra hug and kissed her head.

Tracy said good-bye to Liz, and hugged Chris, thanking him and wishing him a Merry Christmas. She then moved to the side, waiting patiently for Alex and the girls to say their good-byes as Eliza’s family moved into the hallway and began their own preparations for departure.

“Jim,” Alex stretched out his hand to Eliza’s husband as Liz began to prepare her children to face the now frigid outdoor temperatures. “It was good to see you, Merry Christmas!”

“You too, Alex,” Jim lifted Bonnie higher on his hip, balancing her with one hand as he grasped Alex’s hand with the other. “Have a safe drive back!”

“Thanks,” Alex returned. “Bye little one,” he kissed Bonnie’s cheek, but she could barely keep her eyes open and was way too out of it to respond as her head sagged against her dad’s shoulder. Jim and Alex both chuckled. “Someone had a good Christmas,” Alex commented tenderly.

“Yeah,” Jim replied hugging his little daughter close. “It’s time to get this one back to the hotel, I think.”

“Everybody, zip up, now, it’s cold out there,” Liz instructed as she came up next to Jim and started to dress her sleeping daughter. Carefully, so as not to wake her, she placed her hat on her head and then one arm at a time managed to get her coat on. “Jake, put your hat on, please,” she glanced at him as she slipped Bonnie’s mittens onto her hands.

“Ok,” Jake grumbled, and Alex laughed, cuffing him playfully on the head.

“It was good to see you, Bud! Be good, ok?” he hugged his nephew tight and Jake nodded, returning the hug. Alex then turned to the girls, sweeping each of them up in his arms for a moment before kissing them and setting them back on their feet. “Be good, girls,” he urged them too. “Mind your mother, ok?” They nodded and clung to him. Alice started to cry. “Oh, it’s all right, Love! Shh . . . it’s all right. We’ll see you again soon. Lizzie,” he stretched out his arms as his little niece calmed some, and Eliza snuggled against him and held him tight. They held on for a long time, each reluctant to let go. “It was a wonderful Christmas,” Alex uttered softly, and Liz nodded, unable to respond. There were tears in their eyes as they finally parted. Eliza reached for her nieces and Alex turned quickly to his brother who had been silently observing this whole time, his heart in his mouth.

“Bye, Bro,” Alex gave Chris a bracing hug, holding on for a moment more than he typically would. “You take care of yourself, now. Give Andy our best, and if you need us, we’re just a phone call away! Ok?”

“I know,” Chris managed with difficulty to keep his voice steady as he pressed his face against his brother’s shoulder. Alex gave him one more reassuring squeeze and then with one final worried glance back, he ushered his family out into the crisp night air.

“Bye! Bye! Merry Christmas,” Alicia and Kyla called, and then the door closed and they were gone. Liz stared wistfully after them, still fighting back tears, and Chris bit his lip. It was always hard to say good-bye to Alex and his family. They lived just as far away as Liz, but because of Alex’s work schedule they couldn’t visit for any length of time, even around the holidays. They were headed back to NY early tomorrow, and it might well be another year before Chris and Liz saw them again.

Liz and her family took their parting from Chris with a little less emotion as they were going to be around for another couple of days, but Chris was reluctant to see them go all the same, and he put his coat on and walked out with them, delaying the process as long as possible. He kissed Rebecca and Alice good night, and then helped Jim settle Bonnie in the car. He was bending over Bonnie’s car seat, checking one more time to be sure the straps were snug, when he felt a gentle hand on his arm. He looked up, and then stood to confront Jake’s extremely worried eyes. “Is Uncle Andy ok?” Jake asked quietly. “Is he really sick?”

“Oh, Jakey,” Chris wrapped his nephew in his arms and held him tight. “No, Bud, no. He’s ok. He’ll be ok. He’s just feeling a little under the weather. He was sorry not to get to spend more time with you today, but you’ll see him tomorrow, all right? I promise.” He hugged Jake tighter as his nephew still seemed unsure. “Everything is ok,” he whispered again as Jake pressed close to him. “Go on and get in the car, Bud. It’s freezing out here!”

Reluctantly, Jake obeyed. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Chris,” he said as he pulled away.

“Merry Christmas, Bud,” Chris returned softly, and then he turned to face his sister who was watching him with worried eyes. Her family was all in the car now, and Jim started the engine to warm things up as Liz gave Chris one last hug.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” she asked again, cupping his face once more in her hands. He nodded, but didn’t try to answer. “You give Andy our love, ok!” Chris nodded again. “We’ll call before we come tomorrow,” she said off hand as she opened the front passenger’s side door, and though his eyes were glistening with tears, Chris couldn’t help smirking a little as he remembered the way the day had begun. “Good night, Love,” Liz swatted him playfully on the butt, feeling somewhat reassured by the tiny trace of a smile that had appeared. Then she got in the car and Chris stepped out of the way as they backed up and then pulled out of the driveway. Jake was waving frantically, his face pressed to the rear window, and Chris waved back, watching them until he could no longer see them. Even after the car was no longer visible, he stood there looking after them, trying to delay for just a moment more the necessity of going inside. He had no hat or gloves though, and he was starting to freeze. Finally, he could take the cold no longer and with a heavy sigh, he turned back towards the house.

The silence that hit him as he stepped inside and shut the door overwhelmed him for a moment. This was what he couldn’t stand about Christmas. It was so anticlimactic. He hung his coat up and placed his boots on the mud mat. He gathered the remaining glasses together from the living room, along with a few random plates that had been missed and stacked them all neatly on the counter in the kitchen, checking to make sure that the dishwasher was still running, and that everything else was as it should be. He placed the table cloth in the laundry and wiped down the table. He watered the Christmas tree, and made sure all the doors were locked. He shut off the lights in the living room and dining room, and then unplugged the lights on the tree. The moon was full and provided enough light for him to see by as he gathered the few tiny packages that were still sitting there together, and stacked them in his arms. With an ache in his throat, he noticed the little package that had been addressed to him from Andy was no longer among them, and with quiet dread he made his way towards the stairs.

≡

“Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.”

≡

Softly, Chris opened the door to their bedroom and looked inside. Andy, in nothing but his boxers, was lying face down on the bed, clutching the pillows. He looked like he had not slept at all, and Chris sighed as he quietly entered the room. He placed the presents in a pile on the armchair and then sat on the bed next to his partner. “I brought our gifts up,” he started gently.

“Who cares?!” Andy sobbed bitterly. “You probably got me something really great as usual and mine is stupid as always!”

“Please don’t talk like that.”

“Why not? It’s true!”

“No it’s not, Andrew. I treasure each and every present you have ever given me.”

“I don’t know why!”

“Well, that’s what we’re going to talk about right now.”

“You’re going to spank me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Chris answered quietly. “Do you understand why?”

“Yes,” Andy sobbed, “because I was rude to Douglas.”

“Andy,” Chris reprimanded in frustration, “this has nothing to do with Douglas or the comment you made to him.”

“The only reason I said it is because I got you the same fucking God Damn watch!”

“Language,” Chris reminded gently.

“Sorry,” Andy huffed.

“I know why you said it, Baby.”

“You do?”

“Yes, Love. I’m pretty quick with numbers and I can put two and two together just like that. I am not very happy with Douglas myself right now, and I let him know that. I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose. He did it out of spite, to hurt you, to hurt me, to hurt us. If that was all this was about, my love, your bottom would be in no danger at all.”

“Why would he do that?” Andy demanded angrily. “Why? He has everything and I have nothing! Why would he be such a jerk?!”

“You have me,” Chris reminded softly.

“I thought you said he wasn’t jealous!”

“Well, I didn’t think he was!” Chris cried in exasperation as tears stung his own eyes. “Maybe I was wrong! But it doesn’t matter, Andrew! Don’t you get it? I love YOU, Baby, I love YOU!”

“I just wanted to get you something special this year!” Andy wailed.

“You did get me something special,” Chris returned softly. “I love it! Can I have it, please?” he asked. Andy shook his head. “Since you bought it, I’d like to have it,” Chris replied huskily.

“It’s the same f_ _ _ _ it’s the same watch,” Andy caught himself just in time.

“No it’s not,” Chris returned quietly. Andy looked at him like he was crazy.

“Oh yes it is!”

“No,” Chris insisted. “Bring it here and I’ll show you.”

“Ok,” Andy sobbed, “but you’ll see, it’s the exact same.” He crawled off the bed and retrieved the watch from where he had stuck it under his underwear in the top drawer of their dresser. He brought it back to the bed, and fell on his knees between his partner’s legs, handing him the carefully wrapped package. Chris took the tiny box, and placed his hand on the side of Andy’s wet face, looking into his partner’s agony filled eyes, and doing his best to fight back his own tears.

“Look, here is something different already,” Chris whispered, holding the package out so Andy could see. “You see this paper?” Andy nodded. “This is your paper, something you picked out. Something you picked out for me because you know how much I like silver.” Andy looked confused. “The watch Douglas gave me,” Chris went on quietly, “was gift wrapped by the store,” he held out the other box with the shred of gold wrapping paper still clinging to it, so Andy could see the store logo. Andy didn’t seem all that impressed, however, and Chris went on quickly as his partner’s sobs increased. “The only reason I didn’t give it back to him, Andy, quite frankly, was so I could show you just how different these two watches are.” He put Douglas’ box down on the bed beside him and carefully began to unwrap the box Andy had given him. He kept his eyes glued to his partner’s and slowly Andy began to grow calmer. “It’s beautiful,” Chris opened the box and gazed down at the silver and gold watch cradled on the velvet inside. A surge of love for Andy overpowered him, and he brushed at his cheeks as the long threatening tears began to streak his face.

“But it’s the exact same,” Andy sobbed again.

“No, love, no!” Chris took the delicate watch from Andy’s box and held it in his hand as if he might break it. Then he picked up Douglas’ box and opened it, holding the two together. “They are different,” Chris sobbed, “because this one,” he held up Douglas’ box, “means nothing to me! And this one,” he held up the watch in his hand, “means everything!”

“It’s engraved,” Andy choked. Chris turned the watch over in his hand, and the tiny lettering was blurred he finally made it out: ‘To Chris with all my love, forever. Merry Christmas. Andy.’ Chris clutched Andy to him and kissed his head, and then his face, and then finally their lips met. When they parted, Andy dropped his head into his partner’s lap and sobbed, releasing all the emotion of the last several weeks and Chris stroked his hair quietly. He could hardly bring himself to do this, but he knew he had to.

“Look at me, Andy,” he began sternly, and Andy did, reacting immediately to the tone in his partner’s voice. “It distresses me greatly, my love,” Chris sobbed, “that you think a watch, engraved or not engraved, means more to me than you do, and that is why I am going to spank you. Come here,” Chris pulled Andy up from his knees, and dragged him over his lap. His heart was definitely not in this, but there had never been a more important lesson for his partner to learn, and he positioned him so his bottom would get the full benefit of the hard lesson he intended to teach. Andy was not protesting at all yet, and Chris felt his guilt lift a little even as he gently slipped his fingers into the waistband of his partner’s boxers and pulled them down. ‘He needs this,’ he thought, ‘he really needs this.’ He pulled Andy’s underwear very low this time. This spanking would be nothing like the gentle reprimand he had given this morning. He wanted his partner to remember every time he sat down for the next couple of days, how very much he loved him.

Andy too, knew he needed it, and though he clutched the bedspread in tense anticipation, he did not plead with Chris not to spank him, even as his underwear came down. He knew Chris would spank him hard this time, and in a way he wanted him to. Well, he didn’t want the spanking of course. God no, he didn’t want it, but in a very important way, it was a tangible reminder that his partner was there. He buried his face and held his breath as he felt Chris’ hand come lightly to rest on his now bare bottom. There was some lingering warmth still from the earlier smacking Chris had given him with the flyswatter, and the sting seemed to reignite now too, but perhaps that was pure association.

“I am surprised and disappointed, Andrew,” Chris began softly, “that you do not see this situation for what it is. You usually see things so clearly, Baby, but it seems in this one instance when it is most important, I will have to help you put things into perspective.” SMACK! Chris raised his hand and brought it down hard. Andy jumped, but did not cry out. “Are you listening?” Chris continued now in his most authoritative tone.

“Yes,” Andy choked.

“Good! Because this may well be the most important thing I ever say to you!” SMACK! Andy bucked slightly, and pressed his face into his arm, but he once again refrained from making any noise other than the quiet crying he had already been engaged in. “You have nothing to be jealous about!” Chris raised his hand again and brought it down as hard as he could in the center of Andy’s bottom.

“OWW!” Andy yelped.

“Nothing!” Chris went on. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“OWW! OWW! OWW! Chris, OWW!”

“Do you hear me, Andrew?”

“Yes,” he sobbed.

“Douglas is a pretentious . . .,” SMACK! “Conceited . . .,” SMACK! “Thoughtless . . . ,” SMACK! “Petty . . .,” SMACK! “Immature . . .,” SMACK! “Selfish . . .,” SMACK! “Vain . . .,” SMACK! “pathetic shell of a little man!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Andy screamed as his partner continued to drive his hand sternly into his bottom. He had meant to take this spanking quietly, but it hurt so bad!

“OWW! Chris! OWW, OWW!” He kicked out hard, squirming and wiggling in an attempt to get away, but Chris just tightened his grip and spanked harder. “OWWW!” Andy wailed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He clutched the pillows and sobbed as his partner continued to blister his bottom.

Chris’ heart reacted to Andy’s misery, but his hand was not yet ready to stop. “Some days, like today,” he paused the spanking briefly to pull Andy’s tangled boxers completely off his wildly thrashing legs, “I can’t even stand the idea of Douglas being my friend,” he resumed it again immediately, smacking his partner’s bottom relentlessly as Andy howled. “Let alone could I ever love him like I love you! You are everything he is not, Andy, so, if anything, you should feel sorry for him, not jealous. You are so sweet that no one can help loving you. You’re sensitive, honest, kind, passionate, affectionate, hardworking, thoughtful, perceptive, creative, and adorable, even with a blistered bottom and red teary eyes. You love deeply and you are loved deeply in turn, Caro, so contrary to your previous misconception, it is you who has more than Douglas. Not the other way around. Do you understand?” Chris’ tone grew gentle again as Andy fought his way off his lap once more, and finally he let his partner go. Andy pressed his face into Chris’ chest and clung to him, sobbing hard as Chris stroked his hair. “Tell me that you understand, Caro,” Chris insisted quietly.

“I do,” Andy sobbed. “I do understand. You’re right! I’m sorry!” Chris was quiet for several long minutes, holding Andy close as he cried, and rubbing his partner’s sore bottom to try and take some of the sting away.

“It hurts, Chris,” Andy wept as the burn began to really set in. “It hurts so bad!”

“I’m sorry, Caro,” Chris whispered tenderly, “do you understand why I had to spank you so hard?”

Andy nodded and bit his lip. “I feel like an idiot!” he choked. SWAT! “OWW!”

“I do not want you to feel like an idiot, Andy! And I certainly don’t want you to cut up on yourself like that. I just want you to be open to looking at this whole business with Douglas in another way. Does that make sense? Can you do that for me, Baby?” Andy nodded and placed his head against Chris’ chest once more. Chris continued to hold him and they laid there for nearly an hour before Andy’s tears finally began to slow.

≡

“White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! A . . . change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.”

≡

At last Andy stopped crying altogether and Chris smiled down at him, brushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. “Want to open your presents?” he asked softly. Andy’s heart gave a little jump of excitement. He still had presents to open! After such a miserable Christmas and the scourging he had just received, he could deal with a present or two. Chris laughed affectionately as Andy looked up at him. “Is that a yes?” he asked softly, brushing his fingers along his partner’s flushed cheek. Andy nodded and Chris kissed his head again, and then left Andy briefly to collect two of the remaining three packages from the chair.

Andy remained on his stomach, way to sore to attempt any other position, and hugged the pillows to his chest as he followed his partner with his eyes. Leaving the mysterious package from Santa where it was, Chris returned to the bed, and placed the other two presents in front of Andy as he sat down next to him once more. “Which one will you open first, Caro?” he asked, his eyes sparkling as he watched Andy’s face. Andy shrugged. A present was a present after all. Opening it was more than half the fun. Finally he selected the smaller of the two packages. It was carefully wrapped in red tissue paper and tied neatly with a white ribbon that curled.

‘It was almost too pretty to open,’ he thought. Finally, however, he took it in his hand and as he touched it and felt its true shape, which had been disguised by the layers of paper, a feeling of foreboding overcame him. He paused, biting hard on his lip, and not daring to look at his partner. ‘Oh please, Jesus, no!’ he thought, as he slowly began once more to pull at the ribbon. The little prayer went unheeded, however, and Andy gently pulled the paper back to reveal a stunning collection of artist’s brushes. Quickly, he closed his eyes as he felt tears burning their way forward once more.

Chris was watching him intently. “Don’t you like them, Caro?” he asked softly.

Andy fought desperately for control, but could not keep his voice from breaking as he answered his partner. “Of course I do,” he brushed at his cheeks in frustration. “They’re beautiful. It’s just . . .,”he swallowed, unable to continue.

“Just what?” Chris prompted gently.

“Nothing,” Andy responded miserably. Chris waited another moment, but then he pushed the other, larger box towards his partner.

“Open this one,” he urged. Andy placed his hand over his face. He already had a bad feeling about this. He could not look at Chris at all as he slowly pulled the paper off the somewhat heavy box. He chewed his lip, bitterly as his heart began to beat faster. Finally he lifted the lid and looked down into the largest assortment of paints he had ever seen. There were oil paints and water colors in every color imaginable, and he began to cry again. He couldn’t help it. He hid his face quickly in the pillow.

“What’s the matter, Love?” Chris inquired softly once more.

“Nothing!” Andy sobbed. “Nothing’s wrong! It’s a beautiful present! It’s an amazing present! I love it! Only I can’t use it!” he choked. “I can’t use any of it!”

“What do you mean you can’t use it?” Chris replied anxiously.

“Well, it’s too nice!” Andy sobbed. Thinking fast, it was the only thing he could come up with, and Chris laughed, kissing his head.

“Nonsense,” he responded, “use it all my love, and enjoy! There’s always more where that came from. I have one more present for you,” he whispered excitedly, “but it’s not quite ready yet. Stay here and I’ll be right back!”

Andy was barely listening now and he clutched the pillows harder as Chris left the room. ‘How could this be happening?’ he thought. What could he tell his partner? How would Chris react if he found out what he had done? ‘To begin with, he’ll spank the bejeezus out of me!’ Andy suddenly realized. ‘I’ll never sit again!’ He instinctively brought his hand back to soothe his already throbbing bottom. ‘Chris could never, never know where the money for the watch had come from. Not ever!’ Andy wiped at his eyes and tried to stop crying. ‘But that’s like lying,’ his conscience warned. He had never lied to Chris about anything before. ‘He’ll know,’ Andy thought desperately, burying his face deeper in the pillows. ‘He always knows.’ His bottom clenched as he heard Chris coming back down the hallway towards their bedroom. He was going to have to tell him, even if it meant another spanking. He did not want to lie to his partner.

He heard the door open, but he could not bring himself to look up as Chris approached the bed again and sat down. “Are you ready to see your last present, Caro?” he asked softly. A muffled, non-comprehensible sob was all he got in response. “What, Sweetheart? I couldn’t hear you.”

Andy lifted his face just barely out of the pillow and looked at his partner with brimming eyes. “I don’t want any more presents!” he sobbed. “You’ve given me enough!”

“Nonsense,” Chris replied again lightly as Andy hid his face once more, “they all go together. You have to have one thing to be able to use the other.” That was what Andy had been afraid of and he melted completely in frustration.

“You don’t understand!” he sobbed. “I can’t use it! I can’t use any of it! I sold my fucking easel! Ok!? I sold it! I sold it to buy that stupid, fucking watch! The same stupid fucking watch that Douglas, the fucking prick a-hole bought you, ok?! There! I said it! Are you fucking happy now!? You want to spank me? AGAIN! Fuck! Let’s just get it fucking over with then!” Andy turned stiffly to the side, so Chris could easily get at his bottom and balling his fists in the comforter, he waited, sobbing hysterically, but Chris’ hand never fell. “All I wanted to do was buy you a nice Christmas Present,” Andy sobbed finally into the blankets. Chris placed his hand on Andy’s back, rubbing gently, but he still said nothing, and finally as he began to calm a little, Andy turned his head tentatively to look at him. Chris’ hand paused as he met Andy’s eyes, but Andy could not read his partner’s expression. He bit his lip and waited, brushing at his cheeks.

Chris held his lover’s gaze for a long moment, and then he sighed, “Go to the study, Caro,” he commanded calmly, and the quiet direction sent Andy over the edge. He had expected anything, but that; a blistering spanking on the spot, a long lecture and comforting arms, a vehement telling off, anything but the cool, collected response he got. He had known Chris would wear his ass out, but to be sent to the study! On Christmas? It was heartless! Heartless!

“That’s it?!” he yelled, leaping to his feet, paying no mind now to his already burning nether regions. Every movement reminded him how uncomfortable he was going to be for the next couple of days, but at the moment he was too angry to care. “That’s all you’re going to say?” he raged as he faced down his partner. “‘Go to the study, Caro,’” he mimicked. “Sure! Why the fuck not!? Perfect fucking end to the crappiest Christmas ever! Here!” He jerked the drawer in the nightstand open and pulled out the small oak paddle that resided there. “Merry Fucking Christmas!” he hurled it as his partner, narrowly missing Chris’ head, and then as it bounced off the headboard and clattered to the floor, Andy turned and fled, slamming the door behind him.

“Great,” Chris closed his eyes as the room shook and a picture fell from the wall. He had handled this wrong. He could see that now. They should have had this out weeks ago. Chris got up to follow his partner, leaving the paddle where it had fallen, on the floor. ‘I should have confronted him the moment I found out,’ Chris sighed again. ‘Well you didn’t want to burst his bubble about the present he got you,’ his inner voice countered defensively. ‘How were you to know that Douglas would go and fuck it all up anyway?’ ‘Well, in any case, it’s too late now,’ the thought continued. ‘We’ll just have to make the best of it. The conversation still needs to be had.’ Chris made his way to the door, stopping only to collect the one unwrapped package that remained, the one addressed to him from Santa. It might have his name on it, but he intended to let Andy open it.

He made his way quickly down the hallway, past the stairs, to the spare bedroom at the other end that had become their study. The door was ajar, and Andy’s infuriated wails had ceased, rather abruptly, actually. Chris dropped his chin to his chest and smiled a little to himself. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He quickened his pace, but then paused at the door, watching affectionately as Andy circled the object in the middle of the room. The expression on his partner’s face was one of dumbfounded disbelief.

Andy was still trying to get hold of his tears. He rubbed at his eyes and looked up again quickly, afraid it would be gone, but it was still there. Finally he glanced at Chris. “It’s mine,” he whispered tentatively. Chris nodded. Andy had been keeping his distance, eyeing the object as if at any moment it might pounce on him. Now, however, he approached it slowly, looking periodically back at Chris as if his partner might still deny it. Chris just continued to watch him in love-struck silence. “My easel,” Andy asserted a little more boldly as he reached out to touch the worn cherry wood finish. Chris nodded again as Andy looked his way. “My mother’s easel,” Andy sobbed again as he ran his hands over the familiar wood, finding all the nearly imperceptible nicks and scars of his childhood.

“So it is, Love,” Chris finally confirmed out loud.

“But how?” Andy began to sob hard again, and Chris moved quickly to fold him in his arms. “How did you know?” Andy clung to him, burying his face in Chris’ chest.

“I was looking on E-bay under artist supplies because I was planning to go that route for you anyway this Christmas, and I saw it.”

“You recognized it?” Andy demanded disbelievingly.

“Well I wasn’t sure at first,” Chris admitted, tightening his arms and kissing Andy’s head as his partner continued to cry, “but it’s not as if it’s a really common item, Caro. The cherry wood makes it unique enough that it certainly caught my eye, and then the description sounded so much like something you’d write. It was clear this was an item the seller really did not want to let go of. I of course couldn’t be absolutely certain, though, until I checked for myself, so I took my lunch hour and came home. I went downstairs to your studio, and it wasn’t in its normal spot.” Chris started to cry again too as he remembered the emotional turmoil and absolute panic that had characterized that day for him.

He had practically torn Andy’s studio a part. It was in the basement of the house, and under normal circumstances Chris never went down there unless Andy was there. It was Andy’s room, just as the study really belonged to Chris. Andy used the study too, sometimes, when he had exams to study for or long papers to write, and when he was particularly sad he had a tendency to retreat there because everything about the room reminded him of his partner. It was Chris’ room. They had both felt when they moved in a year ago that it was important for them each to have a room that was just theirs, a place to go to get away. Of course, “getting away” was hardly ever a need for either of them, at least not from one another, and more often than not when they were home, they were to be found together in one of the two spaces enjoying one another’s quiet company while they worked or read. Perhaps, though, it was the fact that they could get away, that made them both feel they didn’t need to.

“I’m sorry, Love,” Chris sobbed now, “please forgive the invasion of your privacy!”

“It’s ok!” Andy clutched at him.

“I didn’t know what to do! I ran up here to see if by some chance you had left it in here, but I knew it was a long shot. I couldn’t remember the last time you had been up here painting with me. Then I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen you in the studio. Then I knew! I didn’t even wait until I was back at work. I picked up the phone and called Mike who was still at the office and had him place a bid for me! Thank God I got it, Andy!! You can’t imagine how I felt, Baby, knowing I still might lose it!”

Chris was crying every bit as hard as Andy was now, and Andy felt stunned. “So you’ve known? All this time, you’ve known?” he sobbed, pulling away from his partner. Chris nodded and let him go. “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me!” A wave of anger washed over Andy followed quickly by feelings of guilt, confusion, sadness and relief. These feelings were compounded by Chris’ melt down, and Andy covered his face, not sure what to say or do and not sure for the first time in five years where he should turn. Chris, sensing Andy’s feelings of complete and utter despair, did his best to pull himself together. “I can’t believe this is happening!” Andy sobbed again. “How could you not tell me?”

“I was going to,” Chris assured as calmly as he could manage, “but I couldn’t bring myself to. I was pretty sure I knew what the money was for . . . I didn’t know anything about the watch,” he inserted quickly as his partner looked up in horror, “not until we opened presents today. I just know how you feel about Christmas, and I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“I just feel so stupid!” Andy wailed.

“Oh, Caro, no! Don’t feel stupid. Come here, Baby,” Chris stretched out his arms again, and unable to resist the familiarly authoritative tone, Andy snuggled against him once more, feeling comforted as Chris’ arms closed around him. “Don’t feel stupid,” Chris insisted once more. “You can’t imagine what it means to me that you were willing to give up something so priceless just to buy me a Christmas present,” he murmured into his partner’s hair, and Andy clung to him, pressing his face into Chris’ chest. “That being said, Caro,” he continued resignedly, “I do want to talk to you about all this.”

Andy swallowed hard. In this environment, when Chris said them that way, those words caused a feeling of anxiety that tied Andy’s stomach in knots. He had known they were coming, though, and he didn’t flinch as his partner pulled the chair out from behind his desk and sat down. Chris pulled Andy down onto his lap and Andy grimaced as his partner’s jeans brushed against his sore bottom. Chris caught the pained expression and felt a twinge of guilt as Andy placed his arms around his neck, hiding his face once more.

“Look at me, Andrew,” he started softly. Reluctantly, Andy obeyed, and Chris brought his hand up in an attempt to dry the tears that now flowed freely down his partner’s face. “Why would you ever think of selling something so precious as your mother’s easel?” Chris asked quietly.

“Because,” Andy sobbed, “this year was special for us. It was our first year together in this house. Every year I get you something really dumb, and the present you get me is always so wonderful and then Douglas always gets you a really great gift! I just wanted mine to be at least as nice as his!” Andy was becoming more and more worked up again and the end of his response was nearly incomprehensible, but Chris caught the gist.

“Look at me,” Chris insisted as Andy once again tried to hide his face. “Don’t you understand, My Love, that Christmas isn’t about presents? It’s the things we give each other everyday that matter. Christmas is just a time to appreciate what we already have. I thought you understood that, Baby! Your favorite Christmas story is ‘The Gift of the Magi’ for Pete’s Sake!”

“I know! I do understand!” Andy cried defensively. “But it just gets hard sometimes! You don’t realize what it’s like when you have no money. You bust your ass waiting tables every damn night of the week just so you can pay the fucking bills! Then, during the day you go to school to get a degree in some stupid profession you don’t give a flying rat’s ass about, all for the sake of a dream you’re too tired to even pursue most of the time! Then, on top of it all, you’re always dependent on someone else for money! I do love ‘The Gift of the Magi!’ It’s a really sweet story, and I understand the lesson it teaches, but look what they fucking did! They bought Christmas presents didn’t they? Even they felt the pressure when they didn’t have the money. True it worked out ok in the end, but it’s not exactly the same situation is it? You’re a fucking attorney for Christ’s sakes, and this is definitely not some rundown flat, and anyway that’s just a story! It’s a fucking God Damn fairy tale! Jim and Dell didn’t have to put up with Douglas every frickin’ year! I just wanted a little bit of freedom this year, Chris! I wanted to feel normal!” he sobbed.

He went to hide his face again, and this time Chris did not stop him. He was feeling a little taken aback, and for several long moments he just held Andy as he sobbed. “Why won’t you let me help you with school?” Chris asked at last, softly.

“Because,” Andy started, “you already pay for most of the expenses around here. The least I can do is get myself through school!”

“Andrew, this is a partnership. That means we work together towards common goals that are important to us and our relationship! Right now, the most important goal we have is to get you through school, so this financial stress won’t be such an issue!”

“Yes! It’s a partnership! That means we contribute equally! Not that you pay for everything while I sit on my ass and do nothing!”

“You are not ‘sitting on your ass,’ Andy,” Chris responded patiently, “nor am I suggesting that you should do so! You are in fact, as you so aptly put it a few moments ago, ‘busting’ that same part of your anatomy, and I just want you to feel like it’s worthwhile. I love you, Caro, and believe it or not I do know how you’re feeling. I’ve been where you are, and Liz and Alex helped me. I don’t like seeing you like this, Baby, so stressed out and run down. Let me help you, so you have a little more of the financial freedom you’re craving and also a little more time for yourself! Never again do I want to be having this conversation about your mother’s easel! Is that clear?” Andy clung tighter and cried harder, but he didn’t respond and after a minute Chris went on. “Do you have any idea what you almost gave up for me, Andy?” he whispered. “That’s your soul, Baby! The very core of you! Don’t you understand? You have a gift, Andy! A gift that everyone around you benefits from each and every day. You see people, My Love, with such clarity, and always in the best possible light, even jerks like Douglas.”

“I hate Douglas!” Andy protested.

“Yes, but that’s only because you’re jealous of him,” Chris replied gently, “and you’re jealous of him because you think he’s better than you. You see the good in everyone, Caro, and consequently bring out the best in all those you love. The same optimistic clarity is reflected in all your paintings, Baby. You create a world when you paint that we all long to live in! Never do I want you to give up the pursuit of that dream! It would kill you, I’m sure, or change you beyond the point of recognition! Promise me, you will never do anything like this again!” Andy did not respond immediately. He was too busy trying to sort out everything that had just been said. “Promise me, Caro!” Chris insisted, and now there was a warning in his voice.

“Ok!” Andy sobbed, still clinging to Chris’ neck. “I promise!”

Satisfied, Chris held him for another minute or two, stroking his hair, and waiting for him to grow calmer. “I think,” he finally began in dulcet tones, “it’s time that we opened the final present of the night.” Chris turned to take the package Santa had left him from the desk where he had laid it, and Andy clutched at him. As intriguing as that present had seemed before, he all of a sudden had no interest in knowing what its contents were.

“No, Chris, please!” he pleaded rubbing his face against his partner’s shoulder. “Do we have to open it?”

“Yes, Baby, I’m afraid we do,” Chris returned tenderly, holding him tight.

“You open it, then!” Andy sobbed, still not looking up. “It has your name on it!”

“But it’s for both of us,” Chris assured him, smirking just a little at his partner’s clever procrastinating tactics.

“How do you know? Have you been sneaking around Santa’s workshop and prying into his business?”

“Santa and I might have collaborated on this one,” Chris admitted with patient affection. Andy looked at him and scowled. It was hard for him to appreciate his partner’s humor right at the moment.

“Fine! We’ll open it!” he snarled, but he looked at the package as though it might bite him as Chris carefully placed it in his lap.

“Go on, Love,” Chris encouraged.

Andy swallowed and wiped at the tears that were still running down his cheeks but finally he took the ribbon between his fingers and gave it a tentative pull. The ribbon was not tied very tightly and it fell away easily (almost as though the reluctant effort of its opener had been anticipated). Neither did the paper put up much of a fight. Finally, only the box remained between Andy and whatever was inside, and he swallowed. Chris tightened his arm, watching his partner’s face closely, and understanding his feelings. Andy glanced at him, and then with a sigh, opened the lid of the box. There, sitting on top of the neatly folded white tissue paper was a brand new copy of O. Henry’s short story. Andy picked it up and clutched it. ‘Oh please, let that be all,’ he thought, but he immediately burst into tears again. He knew he could never be so lucky.

“Go on, Caro, you know there’s more,” Chris whispered once more.

“Do I have to?” Andy sobbed, stalling for time.

“Yes,” Chris responded softly, and holding the book to his chest, Andy carefully unfolded the tissue paper to reveal the object he was dreading. It was a paddle of course, made of cherry wood to match his easel. As he had feared, it was more severe than the little paddle Chris kept in his night stand. Not only was the wood harder, it had tiny little holes drilled in two even rows going right down the center. It looked custom made. ‘So thoughtful,’ Andy quipped to himself.

“Look’s like you landed on Santa’s naughty list this year, Baby,” Andy attempted to match his inward sarcasm with an outer tone of equal flippancy, but the effort failed miserably as he collapsed into sobs, and still clutching his book, he laid his head against Chris’ shoulder.

“I don’t think it’s for me, Love,” Chris replied gently, brushing the hair back from Andy’s eyes and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. “I’m not the one who threw a tantrum an hour or so ago. I’m not the one who hurled a paddle at my partner’s head. I’m not the one whose obstinacy is clouding every good judgment I might otherwise make. I’m not the one who needs reminding what Christmas and partnership are all about,” he paused, cuddling Andy close as his partner reacted to the scolding. “I’m not the one who doubts that I deserve to be loved,” Chris finally went on softly, doing his best to counteract his words with his tone, “I’m not the one who sold my mother’s easel. I’m not the one who needs a spanking, Andy.”

“But I’m so sore, Chris! I’m already so sore!” Andy sobbed.

“I know,” Chris acknowledged gently, “I know you are. I wouldn’t do it, if I didn’t think it was necessary, Andy. This is my gift to you, Baby. Every time you sit down for a while, you’re going to think about how much I love you, and how committed I am to our relationship. You are going to understand that the gift you have and the gifts you give everyday are worth far more to me than the Christmas present you thought you had to buy, and if I have to drill that idea into your bottom to make you understand it that’s what I’m going to do.” He took the paddle carefully out of the box and placed the box on the floor. He then gently took the book that Andy was still clasping, and, sliding it out of his partner’s grasp, laid it back in the box. “Get up, Caro,” he commanded, his voice stern now.

Andy was done arguing. He knew Chris’ mind was made up, and in his heart, Andy also knew he had earned it. He slid shakily off his partner’s lap, and knowing what Chris would expect, he bent over the desk, gripping the far edge, and hiding his face on his arm.

Chris stood, and placing the paddle on the desk, pulled his fuzzy blue sweater up and over his head. Hanging it neatly on the chair, he turned to Andy his heart thumping. ‘Don’t give in, Chris,’ he cautioned himself, ‘you can’t give in.’ He started to unbutton the cuff on the right sleeve of his white button down shirt. “Please tell me why you are going to get a spanking, Caro,” he said quietly as he rolled his right sleeve up past his elbow.

“Because I went off half cocked and threw a tantrum,” Andy sobbed.

“Yes, that’s part of it,” Chris acknowledged as he picked up the paddle. “Please recite for me the rules that you broke.” Andy clutched the desk harder, and his bottom clenched. He was aware that the next time he opened his mouth, there would likely be serious repercussions for his bottom. “Come on, Andrew,” Chris encouraged sternly.

“Ok!” Andy sobbed. “I will think before I act!”

“Yes, that’s a good one to start with,” Chris approved. “Did you do that?”

“No!” Andy choked, shaking his head.

“All right, Andrew. Count please!” Chris raised the paddle, and Andy shifted nervously, biting his lip and trying to calm himself. He took a deep breath and WHACK! Chris brought the paddle down hard right in the center of his bottom.

“AHH!” Andy’s face contorted. “God! One!!”

“What else?” Chris demanded.

“I will not swear!” Andy sobbed. WHACK! The paddle smacked down again. “AHH! Two! Jesus, Chris! Please!”

“Keep going,” Chris responded firmly.

“I will not throw things!”

“Yes, you definitely know better than that!” Chris scolded, bringing his arm back again. WHACK!

“OWW!” Andy yelped and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the desk harder. “Three!” he sobbed.

“What else?” Chris urged again.

“I will not slam doors!” Andy wailed.

“Glad to hear it,” Chris replied with just a hint of facetiousness as he drew back once more. WHACK!

“FOUR! OWWW! Chris, OWW! Please!” Andy begged. “Please!”

“Stand up, Andy, for a moment!” Chris commanded. “Stand up and look at me!” Grateful, even for a temporary respite, Andy rose slowly to his feet, bringing his hands back to soothe the now raging fire in his bottom as he faced his partner. “We are dancing around the issue, Love,” Chris chided softly, trying to keep his resolve as his partner stood sobbing in front of him. “These are all basic rules you’re reciting. You’re required to follow them and you know it, and it’s good that you recognize that, but that is not really why you are getting this spanking. Come here, Baby,” Chris took hold of Andy’s arm and gently pulled him forward, looking earnestly into his partner’s distraught face. “Since you are having such a hard time working up to it, I am going to help you understand exactly what this spanking is about. Bend,” he tucked his arm around his partner’s waist as Andy tearfully did as he was told. “Hands, Caro,” he directed as he pulled him snugly against his side, and with heartrending sobs, Andy took his hands from his hot, stinging bottom, leaving it vulnerable to punishment once more. “This spanking is about us,” Chris went on quietly. “It’s about you learning to trust me,” WHACK!

“OWW!” Andy yipped.

“To trust our partnership and everything we have . . .,” WHACK!

“AHH!” Andy’s knees buckled and he grimaced.

“It’s about you learning to accept help, understanding that everybody needs it sometimes,” WHACK!

“AHH!” Andy gritted his teeth and squirmed.

“It’s about you understanding how much I love you, care about you, and would never ever leave you!” Chris lit into Andy’s bottom with a scalding rain of smacks that made his partner howl and writhe in agony under his arm. “It’s about you recognizing and understanding that Douglas can never ever begin to hold a candle to you no matter how many fancy watches he buys me! He understands that better than you do, Caro! That’s why he acts the way he does around you!” Chris found his rhythm and the paddle thudded into Andy’s bottom over and over again now, causing him to shriek in a way that turned Chris’ blood cold. Never had he punished Andy so severely before. Still, he continued, feeling this lesson had to be hard in order to be truly learned. “This spanking is about you valuing yourself, Andy, and learning to recognize that not all gifts come in boxes!”

“OK!” Andy keened. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! Please!” He was performing every acrobatic feat imaginable now as he did his best to evade the paddle. Only Chris’s strong grip kept him on his feet. Chris as usual was anticipating every move his partner made and despite Andy’s commendable efforts, his success at shielding his bottom was minimal at best as the punishing smacks continued relentlessly to fall.

“Finally,” Chris went on, ignoring his partner’s desperate pleas, “this is about you never ever, ever, ever, selling your mother’s easel or anything else of that kind of value ever again! Do you understand me?”

“Yes!!!” Andy screeched. “Yes! I get it! I’m sorry!”

“Good! Because if we ever have to have this conversation again, Caro, I will buy myself a cane for the occasion! Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Andy sobbed. “Yes, it’s clear!”

“I hope it is, Andrew, I truly hope it is, because I mean it,” Chris finished softly. He drove three or four more hard smacks into his partner’s bottom for emphasis, and then finally he stopped. Andy sank to his knees, bawling, as Chris let him go. He clutched his partner’s leg with one hand, hiding his face, and he covered his bottom with the other, rubbing vigorously in a vain attempt to soothe the now searing pain.

Chris remained quiet at first, looking down at his partner and stroking his hair, overwhelmed by the love he felt for him. “All right, Caro, it’s over,” he assured finally as Andy’s crying continued unabated. “Shh . . . it’s over now, Love. Come here,” he raised Andy to his feet and folded his arms around him as Andy buried his face on his shoulder. “It’s ok,” he soothed, kissing his partner’s head, and rubbing his back. His hand drifted down to Andy’s bottom. He could feel the heat radiating from the bright red cheeks and gently he nudged Andy’s hand aside, replacing it with his own. Softly, he rubbed and caressed, holding Andy close until finally after several minutes his partner began to grow quiet.

“Come on, Love,” Chris encouraged as Andy nestled closer. “It’s been a long day, and we’re both exhausted. Let’s go to bed.” Andy nodded against his partner’s chest. That sounded good to him too, and he didn’t protest as Chris took his hand and led him from the Study, shutting out the lights on the way. As anxious as they both were now to be done with this emotionally draining night, progress towards the bedroom was slow, and halfway down the hall Andy dissolved into tears again. “What is it, Baby?” Chris inquired anxiously, fearing all of a sudden that he had perhaps been too hard.

“I forgot my book,” Andy sobbed, and Chris gave him a tender smile of relief.

“I’ll get it, Caro,” he comforted, squeezing his partner’s hand. “I’ll be right back.” It took him but a moment to retrieve the desired item, and keeping hold of it, he took Andy’s hand once more, adjusting his pace to Andy’s slow, limping gait.

Chris turned on the little lamp on their nightstand when they entered the room, not bothering with the main light switch. He removed Andy’s two presents from the bed and placed them on top of their dresser, and then he pulled back the comforter and the sheet. Andy crawled in on his stomach and Chris sat down next to him. Opening the drawer in the nightstand, once more, he took out a large jar of cream they kept for these occasions. He set it on the nightstand and then, opening it, he scooped up a generous amount and applied it to his partner’s still scalding bottom.

The combination of the cream and his partner’s hand as Chris gently rubbed it in had a pacifying affect on Andy. He sank deeper into the pillows and his muscles relaxed. Tears were still streaking his cheeks, but they were more tears of exhaustion now. There was no real anxiety or bitterness behind them. He was getting sleepy and Chris, in recognition of that, carefully pulled the sheet up over him, closed the jar of cream, placed it back in the nightstand, kissed his partner’s forehead, and then quietly went about the act of undressing himself. Slowly, he began to unbutton his shirt, letting his thoughts drift as he slipped out of it and placed it in the hamper. Then he unzipped his jeans, sliding them down and off along with his boxers. Finally, he gathered Andy’s clothes from earlier, and bundling everything together, he placed it all in the hamper where it belonged.

As he turned back towards the bed, Chris encountered Andy’s drowsy eyes watching him, and he smiled softly. “Caro, I thought you were asleep already,” he pulled the blankets back again and slipped in beside his lover. Andy shook his head and crawled on top of him, pillowing his face against his partner’s chest. Chris placed his arm around him and reached to turn out the light, but Andy stopped him.

“Can we read it?” he appealed softly, looking towards the book Chris had placed on the nightstand.

“Sure, Baby,” Chris replied tenderly, and he reached for the book. He doubted Andy would be able to stay awake for the whole thing, but he was in the mood to humor any request his partner made at the moment. Besides, he could do with a little dose of Jim and Dell’s spirit himself right now. He really was feeling quite a kinship with them. Quiet tears were streaking Andy’s cheeks again and as Chris opened the book, he noticed them. “What’s the matter, Baby?” he coaxed, brushing his lover’s cheeks with his fingers.

“I’m not going to be much use to Jake tomorrow,” Andy replied. “We’ve hardly gotten to spend any time together, and he lives so far away!”

“Oh Andy,” Chris replied with an affectionate little laugh. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll think of something.”

“But there’s not a whole lot I’m going to be able to do tomorrow . . . .,” Andy protested with a little sob.

“Caro, all Jake wants is to spend time with you. It doesn’t have to be another afternoon of snowball fights and rough housing. Lord knows, he got enough of that today. I think a day of quiet activity would be good for everyone. Maybe we’ll get a movie we can all watch. In fact, maybe we’ll rent ‘The Gift of the Magi.’ What do you think?” Andy looked up at him and nodded, wiping at his cheeks as tears continued to streak his face. Chris kissed his head and smiled. “Don’t worry,” he soothed once more. “Maybe we’ll get a bunch of movies. When Liz calls, I’ll tell her to stop by the video store on the way over. We’ll just have to be sure to get the couch, so you can lie in my lap all day. I’m going to spoil you completely tomorrow! I even saved you the last two snowman cookies. You should have seen the look on Kyle’s face.” Chris couldn’t help laughing and the sound was so pleasing to Andy that even he had to laugh a little too. “Now are you ready to hear this story, Baby, or not?” Chris whispered dotingly. Andy nodded, snuggling close to his partner again as Chris began to read.

Andy’s eyes began to droop as the end of the story drew near, and Chris absently stroked his hair as he read:

‘“"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."”’ Chris read the last lines of dialogue in the story, and was so absorbed that he jumped a little at the sound of Andy’s quiet voice.

“Do you think Jim would have spanked Dell if he had found out what her intentions were before she sold her hair?” Andy looked drowsily at him and Chris looked back, absolutely enchanted by the serious expression on his partner’s face.

“I don’t know, Baby,” he whispered, trying not to laugh. “Maybe Dell would have spanked Jim if she found out he was even thinking of selling his watch.” This idea too seemed interesting to Andy, and Chris could see him pondering it, but the thought was too much for his exhausted partner and as his eyelids drooped once more, Andy finally gave in to the sleep he so sorely needed.

‘“The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.”’

Chris couldn’t help finishing the story. It was Andy’s favorite part. ‘What would Jim and Dell have done?’ he wondered as he gently closed the book and replaced it on the nightstand. It was an interesting question. ‘What would they have done if they had discovered one another’s intentions before they had been carried out?’ Chris shut off the light and snuggled down with Andy, cuddling his partner close. ‘Is it the sacrifice that matters?’ he continued to ponder. ‘Or is it the fact that they each recognized and valued the sacrifice the other had made? Well who cares, anyway?’ Chris yawned as the question became too much for him as well. ‘Andy’s right. It’s just a story. “A God Damn fairy tale,”’ he smirked to himself. ‘But it’s a nice one all the same,’ he sighed, and with that thought in mind, holding his partner tight he drifted off to sleep.

It was the perfect ending to what would certainly become, if not their best, at least one of their most memorable Christmases together. The reading, and watching, of “The Gift of the Magi” became something of a whole family tradition at Christmas, and privately Andy and Chris continued to ponder with a mixture of intrigue and amusement the questions they had fallen asleep to the night the tradition began. They never came up with an answer that satisfied either one of them, but they enjoyed the endless speculation, and the least they could say was that neither of them ever looked at the story in quite the same way ever again.