Under The Mistletoe (John & Luke - Pt 2)

Chapter 8

"What're you doing up so late, young man?"

John looked away from the living room window. His mom entered the room wearing a soft pink robe that extended to her ankles, and matching pink slippers. "I couldn't sleep," he mumbled and looked out the window again. Thick snowflakes drifted through the pale glow of the street lamp and began collecting on the cold ground, painting everything white.

Sharon Eckley joined him and gazed out into the night. "Have you heard that expression 'a watch pot never boils'?"

"Yeah," John smiled.

"Staring at the street isn't going to make him come home any sooner." She gently rubbed his arm. "You're exhausted, John. You need to sleep."

"I can't," he whispered. His eyes felt like lead weights had been strapped to them, but if he went to bed, he would just toss and turn until morning. "Why are you up, mom?"

She sighed and leaned against the window sill, worry in her eyes as she looked out into the falling snow. "Because, like a mama hen, I can't rest until all my chicks are safely nestled under my wings." She smiled. "I need to know he's safe, too. He already feels like one of my own."

"Do you know what he told me on Thanksgiving?" John asked quietly.

"What's that?"

"He said he used fantasize that his parents would abandon him, and you and dad would adopt him."

Sharon shook her head. "That's both incredibly sweet...and tragically sad."

"I know." John gazed across the street at the dark house. "I mean, how horrible do parents have to be for their own kid to wish they'd abandon him?"

"Pretty awful," she whispered. "I can't imagine treating a child the way they have Luke. He's such a sweetheart. How can they not adore him?"

John would never understand that one. Luke was like air to him. Luke was...everything to him. "Do you think they're even worried about him?" John asked thickly. "Or are they sleeping peacefully, without a care whether or not he's safe?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," she murmured. "But wherever he's at, he knows that we're thinking about him, worrying about him, and praying for him." She squeezed John's hand. "He knows he isn't alone."

John wiped his eyes. "I try to think about what dad said, about him waiting out the storm in a motel, or someplace safe and warm. But..."

"But your fears get the best of you?"

His throat worked and he nodded. "Yeah." He swallowed thickly. "I keep seeing him stranded in his car, over the side of the road somewhere, and no one knows where he's at." He bit his lower lip and shook his head. "I don't want that image in my head but I can't get rid of it." He trembled and wiped tears from his eyes with a shaky hand. "I'm so...scared, mom. What if he isn't okay? I can't...I can't handle it if..." He covered his eyes as sobs shook him.

"I know, baby." Sharon hugged him and John clung to her. "I'm scared, too. But we can't lose hope. We just have to wait out the storm as well, and pray that when it passes...the Lord will bring Luke home."

Would the storm raging within John tear him apart, though...before the storm without passed by?

♦

Rather than allow John to sit at home and worry about Luke, they piled him into the car and took him to the mall in town. They insisted they needed to do some last minute Christmas shopping, but John knew they just wanted to get him out of the house for a while.

His mom broke away from him and his dad, leaving them to wander the large shopping center alone.

"How is the contract coming along?" John asked. "Do you think everything is going to work out?"

"It's looking that way," Mitch nodded. "Trusting in the good Lord to let it go smoothly."

John looked at him with a wry smile. "You're not going to be able to wait till your anniversary to give her the surprise, are you?"

Mitch frowned and smiled. "Why do say that?"

"Because you suck at keeping surprises secret," he chuckled. "You're always too eager to see the excited reactions."

Mitch chuffed. "I can hold out."

"For three more months?" John quipped. "No way."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll see," Mitch smiled.

"Want to make a bet on it?" John asked.

"Nope."

"'Cause you know you'll lose," John grinned.

Mitch scratched his temple and scowled. "Oh, shut up, brat."

John laughed and nodded. "That's what I thought."

Surprisingly, it did make him feel better to be away from the house—and out of sight of Luke's house. His dad kept him distracted with conversation and directing his attention to this and that throughout the mall. As they passed by a small shop selling t-shirts, denim jackets, hats and belts, Mitch let out a short laugh and veered in that direction.

"Oh dear Lord," he chuckled. "What they won't think of next."

"Huh?" John frowned and followed him.

Mitch plucked a belt off one of the racks and handed it to John. "Why do I think this is something Luke would wear?"

John's chest squeezed as he stared at the belt buckle in the shape of mistletoe.

Will you kiss me under the mistletoe?

Though his heart ached like mad, John smiled. You would think this was hilarious, wouldn't you? John glanced at his dad, a lump in his throat. "Because he so would."

Mitch laughed and took it back. "I probably would've worn it in my younger days, too," he grinned. "If I tried it now, your mother would slap me up alongside the head."

"Why would I slap you up alongside the head?"

John and his dad jumped, and Mitch hurriedly hid the belt behind his back as father and son smiled innocently at Sharon as she stared at them suspiciously. "No reason," Mitch insisted. "I'm a good boy."

Sharon studied them, then smiled slyly, "Not too good, I hope." She flicked an eyebrow.

His jaw dropping a little, John gaped at her. "Mom."

Sharon smiled, amused, and moved on by, continuing with her shopping as Mitch burst into laughter. He slung his arm around John. "Now you see why I married her?"

"Yes," John groaned. "Please make it go away."

Mitch laughter harder as John tried to shake unwelcome images from his head. "It's fun being a parent," Mitch choked on a laugh. "Just wait."

"For what?" John mused. "I'm gay. It's kind of biologically impossible for me to have kids with my spouse."

"Adoption," Mitch pointed out. "Don't think for one second that you're going to get out of giving us grandbabies by playing the gay card. No siree Bob."

John sighed. "Dammit."

Mitch chuckled and replaced the belt on the rack.

"Don't put it back," John said. "I want it." He plucked it off the rack again and rubbed his thumbs over the mistletoe buckle, and smiled. "I made a promise I intend to keep."

"I don't want to know what that means, do I?"

"Probablynot." A lump formed in John's throat. Please,Luke, come home soon. I'll even lay under the tree naked for you—anything.Just, please, baby...don't leave me now.