It had become customary for Sören to wait outside with Rey for Anthony to get home from work in the evening. Sören sometimes wished that Anthony worked here in Brighton instead of the daily commute to and from London, but he knew how important Anthony's career was to him.
Finally Sören saw Anthony's Audi Q7 SUV roll down the street. He had sold his A6 when Sören was pregnant with Rey, to get something more family-oriented... but it was of course still an Audi, which amused Sören to no end.
Sören picked up Rey and Rey began waving frantically, calling down the street. "HI PAPA! HI PAPA! PAPA! HI! HI!"
Sören laughed, tickled by his daughter's exuberance. She got even louder as the Audi Q7 pulled up to the curb. "PAPA! PAPA! HI PAPA! HI PAPA! PAPA! PAPA! HI PAPA! HI!"
The snow was starting to fall, and Sören's breath caught as Anthony stepped out of the Audi, looking dapper in his black wool greatcoat, snow falling on his coat and in his short, neat black hair. Anthony's face lit up at the sight of them and Sören couldn't help grinning back, feeling that flutter in his stomach like a boy with a stupid crush. Anthony picked up Rey out of Sören's arms and spun her around, making her squeal before she settled against his chest and shoulder, and he kissed her cheek and the tip of her nose. Then he gave Sören a sweet but chaste kiss, since their daughter was watching. "Hi Brown Eyes," Anthony said, poking the tip of Sören's nose. Sören kissed his index finger as it withdrew.
"Hi, elskan." Sören bit his lower lip.
"I'm happy to see you." Anthony stroked Sören's cheek and skritched his beard, still smiling.
Sören couldn't resist. "Hi Happy To See You."
"God."
Sören's laughter rang out - eight years and he still walked into it. Anthony gave Sören a mock stern look, eyes laughing, and he shooed Sören inside, carrying Rey up the stairs, with Rey singing, "Papa's home, Papa's home, yay Papa's home..."
Anthony put on tea as soon as he came inside. He stole a kiss from Sören, and began to remove his shoes and his greatcoat, and then he went down the hall to get out of his suit.
"Remember that we're going to the tree place after dinner," Sören called down.
"Trust me, I haven't forgotten," Anthony called back.
Sören of course knew from eight years that Anthony did indeed rarely forget things, or at least, not important or useful things - Anthony had a habit of misplacing his glasses, and sometimes was easily distracted. But even though it seemed pointless to remind him about something like their impending trip to the tree lot, it was still force of habit for Sören. He was glad Anthony didn't take it as nagging and seemed to understand it was worry. They were both pretty understanding of each other's quirks.
It was December tenth, and over the last several years it had been their custom to start decorating today on the tenth, a fortnight before Christmas. Sören would have waited until the twenty-third or twenty-fourth, as many Icelanders typically didn't decorate until the last minute, but he wasn't living in Iceland anymore and it wasn't uncommon to see businesses and residences start putting up decorations sometime in November.
The three of them were taking Rey to a tree lot not to buy a real Christmas tree, but to buy a wreath and some other real greenery. When this had all started years ago Anthony had wanted a real Christmas tree, and they'd had one in their tiny flat, and then Sören had gotten very distressed and explained to Anthony, "I can feel the tree dying." It sounded completely daft - Sören feared for his own sanity as he felt it - and he'd worried they would think he was crazy as soon as it came out of his mouth, but of course, they had been sympathetic. So since that time they didn't put up a real Christmas tree, but Sören had compromised a little with Anthony's desire for the evergreen smell and a touch of greenery that wasn't fake by agreeing to get fresh wreaths and boughs made from cuttings. Sören still frowned at the tree lot, but they wouldn't be there for long.
As far as the tree itself, Anthony had objected to a fake evergreen, saying they looked garish, and suggested they get a fiber optic Christmas tree. The one Anthony picked out had lights that changed from silver to gold, and Edmund Billingsley always liked to come see it once it was up - he was supposed to visit around nine-thirty, after Rey went to bed.
Sören and Anthony worked on making dinner together, giving Rey minor tasks to help, and then as dinner cooked, started to get everything set up, starting with the tree itself. Rey clapped and jumped up and down when the tree was turned on, filling the living room with light. Sören and Anthony put an arm around each other, watching the tree change from silver to gold. Sören felt a tight ache in his chest, a lump in his throat, tears in his eyes. He was self-conscious about it, being sentimental like this over a fake tree, but year after year it still was like a gut punch to his emotions, when the silver changed to gold and back again for the first time.
In his mind's eye Sören saw a vision of two men with long black hair and a man with a flood of silver-gold hair standing on a hill, looking up at a clear sky full of stars, and streaks and clouds of silver and gold lights playing across it like an aurora borealis and sunset in one. I should paint that sometime, Sören thought to himself.
Then the mental image went away, and he was snapped back to the here and now.
Sören put on Christmas music, and Rey and Anthony began putting ornaments on the tree. Seumas absconded with a ball, carrying it in his mouth then rolling it around on the kitchen floor until Anthony took it away and returned it. Sören carefully unpacked the boxes of small sculptures he'd made of Jólakötturinn, the Jólasveinar, Grýla and Leppalúði.
Anthony had been initially against teaching Rey about Santa Claus, saying "I don't want to lie to our daughter," but then his mother Elaine had pointed out there was no way to escape Father Christmas and it would just make Rey feel left out. Sören had then said this would be a good way to teach their daughter about Icelandic culture as well as pique her curiosity about other holiday traditions around the world, and by extension other cultures around the world, and Anthony couldn't argue with that. But also, Sören knew - and he was sure Anthony had figured this out himself - that incorporating Jólakötturinn, the Jólasveinar, Grýla and Leppalúði into their family Christmas celebration wasn't just for Rey, but for his own inner child, who hadn't had a proper Christmas since his mother died, and before Anthony came along. And it was even better to see it through the wondering eyes of a child.
Sören began to place the sculptures on the mantle above the fireplace. Rey stopped hanging ornaments on the lower boughs of the tree and looked up at him. "Can I help?"
Sören was anxious about his sculptures getting broken, but he also didn't want to tell her no. "If I can help you help," Sören said, smiling. "You have to handle them really gently, OK?"
Rey nodded solemnly.
Sören picked her up, and Anthony passed them one sculpture at a time, and as Sören held her, Rey put the sculptures down across the mantle. Nothing got broken, and Sören breathed a sigh of relief as he put her back down on the floor and adjusted them, spacing them out just so. "Yay, I helped," Rey said.
Sören got to do the honors of hanging the stockings above the mantle, and then he also helped Anthony and Rey trim the tree as dinner simmered. Sören hung fairy lights around the mantle and doorframes, then got on a ladder and hung the fake mistletoe - that had been one piece of greenery they had all agreed could be fake, since it was poisonous and they didn't need an accident with Rey or the cat. Then Sören joined in the tree trimming, until dinner was ready.
"Oh shit," Sören said when one of his favorite Christmas songs came on, then when Rey giggled, he said, "I mean, ah... oh poop." He turned it up and began to sing along, channeling his inner diva as best as he could.
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true oh
All I want for Christmas is you
Sören grabbed Anthony and began to dance with him around the living room as Rey laughed.
_
After dinner Sören did the dishes, then they bundled up and got in the Audi Q7. Sören could see the Christmas lights from the window and it made him smile. Then he looked over at their new neighbor's flat. Nicholas had of course just moved in a few days ago but Sören got the sense he was the type of guy to unpack everything as soon as possible, so the lack of a wreath or any visible decorations seemed a bit jarring to him, and Sören wondered about that before they left the street.
The tree lot was adjacent to a Christmas market, and Rey wheedled them into going. They bought cups of hot cocoa and fresh roasted chestnuts and walked around the market together, looking at the stalls of crafts, trying to resist impulse buying. Anthony ended up buying a handmade Rudolph doll for Rey, who hugged it and skipped happily. At the same stall, while Anthony was distracted by Rey "making Rudolph fly", Sören covertly bought a cheesy pair of cloth antlers for Seumas, and a pair of antlers for himself and one for Anthony, cackling as he tucked the bag into his coat.
Though Sören was old hat at going to a tree lot to pick out wreaths and boughs each year, it seemed like it was taking even longer this year now that they had Rey and were letting her help with the selection. Not that Sören minded, enjoying seeing their daughter's delight in the seemingly infinite selection of wreath designs. At last Rey picked one out that, along with the traditional greenery and cones, had glittery berries and glittery fake birds. "They can be friends with the ravens," Rey said.
Anthony chuckled and tousled her hair; years ago Sören had made a painting of two ravens in a tree, which sat guarding their entryway, and Rey had "conversations" with the ravens and told her parents what they were saying back to her.
It was customary for them to also get a wreath for Edmund every year, since he was such a good neighbor. Edmund's taste was less flamboyant, preferring a simple, old-fashioned sort of wreath. As they looked at wreaths for Edmund, Sören once again thought of how bare Nicholas's flat looked, and it made him sad.
"We should get a wreath for Nicholas, too," Sören said.
"Aw, that's so sweet of you. You're a love." Anthony kissed Sören's cheek.
Sören didn't know what Nicholas would like, but he decided to also err on the side of something simple - a different design than what Edmund was getting, but still more traditional and old-timey. Edmund's wreath had berries and wooden ornaments, and the one Sören picked out for Nicholas had cones and flowers.
When they arrived back at the flat, Sören saw that the lights inside Nicholas's flat were on, meaning he was home and still awake.
Sören felt a little nervous, rubbing his hands together as Anthony gingerly carried the wreath, their breath steaming the night air. Sören rapped on the door and waited. A few minutes later Nicholas opened it a crack, looking wary, then he opened the door wider when he saw who it was.
"Good evening, Sören, Anthony, Rey," Nicholas said. "Is everything all right?"
"We're fine," Sören said.
"Would you like to come in for tea?" Nicholas noticed they were standing outside bundled up, and Anthony nodded enthusiastically.
Nicholas had in fact gotten his belongings unpacked and rearranged, with the flat looking like it had been lived in for months or years rather than mere days. Sören saw that his assessment that Nicholas had not decorated for the holidays was correct, glancing around, and when Nicholas brought in the tea and took a seat, there was an awkward silence where Nicholas looked at the big wreath Anthony was holding.
"So... what brings you here?" Nicholas asked.
"Jæja..." Sören took a deep breath, feeling even more anxious now. "We were decorating our place tonight, and every year we go out and get a new wreath for the door and we get one for our neighbor, Edmund. And I asked my partners if it was OK if we got a wreath for you too, because... well, neighbors."
"Here it is." Anthony stood up and brought the wreath over to Nicholas. "I hope you like it."
"That was very thoughtful of you," Nicholas said, his voice crisp and as chilly as the air outside, "but you needn't have bothered. I don't decorate for the holidays."
"What?" Sören was completely taken aback. "What do you mean, you don't decorate for the holidays? Why don't you decorate for the holidays?"
"Jesus Christ, Sören, you can't just ask people why they don't decorate for the holidays," Anthony muttered. Then he gave a tight, polite little smile and said, "We're sorry, we assumed you would, but of course we shouldn't have assumed that. Are you Jewish? Muslim? An atheist?"
"No, no, and no," Nicholas said. "Just a man who tries to forget this time of year exists."
"Oh." Sören swallowed hard. "Well... we didn't mean to offend. I..." Sören wondered why, and felt even sadder for Nicholas than he did before. And then it slipped out before he could stop himself. "Was just trying to share the Christmas spirit with Saint Nick and all, ha ha."
Sören was trying to be lighthearted to defuse the tension, but he could tell immediately from the wounded look on Nicholas's face that he'd hit a nerve. And then Rey made it worse, asking, “Are you the Grinch?”
“No.” Nicholas exhaled sharply. "I think that after you finish your tea you had better go," Nicholas said gruffly.
Sören gulped his down, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, feeling mortified, the embarrassment made even worse because Nicholas was so fucking attractive. Sören's heart was racing as he couldn't stop staring at the older man. I made an ass out of myself in front of the hot Alpha guy, great job. Of course, Sören had Anthony. But that didn't mean he couldn't look, and Nicholas was so very lookable...
Anthony, Sören and Rey left as quickly as they could, taking the wreath with them. "Thank you for the tea," Anthony said, all cool courtroom courtesy as he led Sören out of the flat into the winter night.
"I fucked up," Sören said as they came up the stairs to their own flat.
"No," Anthony said. "You meant well. He fucked up. It's one thing to not celebrate Christmas or whatever his excuse is for not decorating, but he was a bit... brusque. I was half-expecting him to say bah humbug."
"I don't know if he was that bad," Sören said, "but it was definitely super awkward." Sören scowled at the wreath. "Don't know what we're gonna do with this thing now."
"We can put it on the back of the front door, it'll look nice with the living room," Anthony said. "Or we can give it to Edmund when he comes.”
“Can you read me a bedtime story?” Rey asked.
"If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?" Anthony said, taking off his shoes and outerwear.
Rey nodded.
_
Edmund Billingsley came upstairs at exactly nine-thirty. They had hot chocolate ready, and Edmund came with a container of egg nog, which immediately made Sören feel a little better; he loved egg nog. Edmund's mild, vanilla-like Beta scent was also soothing.
"Here's your wreath," Anthony said, presenting it to him.
"Thank you, Anthony." Edmund smiled. "You three always get me such a nice wreath every year."
They had turned off the fiber optic tree for a few minutes prior to Edmund's arrival, so Edmund could watch it turn on. Edmund just looked at the tree in silence for a moment, with something akin to reverence on his face.
"I do love that tree," Edmund said.
"We love it too," Sören said.
Anthony nodded. "I was a little skeptical about a fake tree but I have to admit, it's really pretty. Feels quite festive."
"Yes. It's beautiful." Edmund smiled.
Anthony cocked his head to one side. "You don't think it's too modern?"
"On the contrary. The ancient Pagans of Europe celebrated the winter solstice, a festival of light. Your tree seems very apt for the theme of the season."
"Are you some kind of Druid?" Sören had always wondered, what with the little stone circle in Edmund's portion of the shared garden space.
"Not quite," Edmund said, "though I suppose you could call them fellow travelers."
Sören nodded.
"One of these years you might consider taking Rey to Stonehenge to watch the sunrise on the winter solstice," Edmund said. "It's quite an experience."
"I thought you were a retired maths teacher, not history," Anthony said.
"Am I only allowed to be interested in mathematics? I can't also be interested in ancient history?" Edmund gave him a look of mock offense before sipping his egg nog with a smile.
"Point taken," Anthony said. "You just always seem so... informed about the subject."
"That's because he was there," Sören joked, and immediately wished that hadn't come out of his mouth, another lack of brain-to-mouth filter.
But Edmund took it well, blue eyes twinkling with mischief as he raised his hand and said, "You got me."
Sören and Anthony laughed. Then Sören immediately apologized, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be hurtful about your age -"
"It's quite all right, Sören. I've known you three for five years now, I'm used to you by now." Edmund smirked. "Enough so that I'll say it for you: 'Hi Used To You By Now.'"
Sören laughed harder, relieved he wasn't offended. "Well, at least that's one neighbor who doesn't hate me."
"Oh?" Edmund's eyebrows went up.
Sören nodded, frowning, feeling uncomfortable all over again as his mind replayed the scene in Nicholas's flat. "Nicholas, er. We got him a wreath too and he, ah."
"He would have rather we didn't," Anthony said.
"Apparently Christmas is a touchy subject for him. I don't know why." Sören shrugged and then he sighed. "I just know that we've gotten off on the wrong foot and it's going to make living next door to him awkward -"
"Maybe not," Edmund said. "I know it might seem hopeless now but sometimes people are more reactive when they're tired in the evening, and I'm sure if you explain to him it was meant out of good will -"
"We already. Ah. Kinda explained." Sören rubbed his beard. "Badly." He remembered Nicholas bristling at the "share the Christmas spirit with Saint Nick" comment.
"Again, it might be better tomorrow, during daylight hours," Edmund said. "I wouldn't stress too much about it. I think Nicholas realizes as much as you do that it's in everyone's best interests to get on well with your neighbors. He's quite different from the other tenants who have lived here. Older. Quieter. Seemingly more mature."
"I hope you're right," Sören said. "I really don't want problems with him. Especially not during Christmas."
"I'm sure he'll come to understand you were just trying to be friendly."
Sören needed levity. "Hi Sure He'll Come To Understand You Were Just Trying To Be Friendly."
"Sören no," Anthony scolded.
_
The next day, Thursday, Sören and Rey were outside waiting for Anthony again, watching the pink, orange and blue fire of the winter sunset. But before Anthony's Audi Q7 rolled in, another vehicle came first, a sleek black Jaguar that Sören had seen parked outside Nicholas's flat, and sure enough, Nicholas was behind the wheel.
Oh shit. Sören swallowed hard.
Rey began to wave and yell. "HI SAINT NICK! HI! HI! HI SAINT NICK! I'M BEING GOOD!" It was as if she had forgotten about the Grinch comment.
"Rey..." Sören put a finger to her lips. "Shhh, shhhh."
"I'm saying hi to Santa," Rey said, giving her father a stern look that was comical on her small face.
"Hi Saying Hi To Santa."
"You're a butt," Rey said, and Sören couldn't help laughing at that - she'd learned it from her momdad - and Sören was still laughing as Nicholas got out of the car.
"Good evening," Nicholas said, all serious formality as he went from his car to his door.
"Er, hi." Sören swallowed hard, heart racing, trying not to ogle the handsome man looking dapper in his trench and fedora. The delicious-smelling Alpha. "Um, about last night. I'm sorry -"
Nicholas paused, nodded, and then he turned around and stepped down. "I'm sorry too." Nicholas walked towards Sören. "I know you were trying to do something kind for your new neighbor and it was unfair of me to..." Nicholas sighed. "Be so rude. I shan't make excuses for myself -"
"But nonetheless, something happened." Sören cocked his head to one side. "I know it's not any of my business, but..."
"I suppose I should tell someone, sometime." Nicholas looked at Rey and then at Sören. "You're waiting for your partner to get home, yes?"
"He should be home soon. Do you want to come up with us and have tea once he's here?"
"Yes, thank you."
Thankfully, it didn't take much longer for Anthony to arrive. Anthony didn't bother to disguise the surprise on his face when he got out of the Audi. "What's going on?"
"PAPA!" Rey ran to him and Anthony scooped her up, giving her a little kiss with a wary look on his face.
"Nicholas is going to have tea with us," Sören said.
"And apologize for last night," Nicholas said, "and explain myself."
"OK." Anthony nodded and gestured for them to follow.
Seumas went right to him and Nicholas spent a moment fussing over the cat, which Sören found irresistibly charming, his stomach fluttering - oh god could we not react like that - even as he still felt a twinge of anxiety over the coming potentially-awkward conversation.
They had Rey go play in her room, sensing this was something for grownup ears only, and Nicholas just got right to it. "I was a priest," Nicholas said.
"Oh!" Anthony looked even more surprised. "What... denomination, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Roman Catholic," Nicholas said. "My parents are from France. I was raised very Catholic, I felt called from early childhood. To make a long story short, I resigned in 2010 because I could no longer in good conscience serve the Church when they were so steeped in abuse scandal. It horrified me that fellow priests and our superiors were doing such... vile... unspeakable things... to innocent children. I myself had struggled all my life with feeling like my own homosexuality was a sin, and I lived a chaste, celibate life consecrated to God. But my interest has only ever been in other men, as in, consenting adults. And it is something the Church would condemn me for, something God himself would condemn me for, when the Church perpetuates such evil and he allows it. So I left the Church four years ago, I used what I had left of my inheritance to start a secular life... I opened up a restaurant this year. I still value Christ's teachings but I am not Christian anymore, I am not anything anymore. And Christmas has been a rather bitter reminder of something that was so central to my life for decades, going up in ash."
Sören felt for him. He resisted the urge to put his tea down, go across the room and hug him.
"If I'd have known, I wouldn't have suggested..." Sören blinked back tears.
"Of course you couldn't have known. It's not like I wear a sign that says HELLO I AM A FORMER ROMAN CATHOLIC PRIEST," Nicholas said. "I do know you meant well, and..." Nicholas sighed. "Being kind, on Christmas... the spirit of Christmas... it hurts."
"I'm sorry," Sören said softly.
"I did some thinking while I was at work," Nicholas said, "and if you're still offering the wreath, I would like to take it. I don't know yet that I'll celebrate Christmas this year, even in a strictly secular sense, but I have to remind myself that there are still good people in this world - you seem like good people - and this is the season of kindness. Even the ancient Pagans, before Christ, knew this was a time to celebrate family and the hearth and the strength of the sun. 'In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.'"
"That's... that's beautiful." Sören felt ready to cry again.
"That's Camus," Nicholas said.
"Well..." Sören cleared his throat. "Kindness is a sort of love, and I give you a quote from my namesake... 'To cheat oneself out of love is the most terrible deception; it is an eternal loss for which there is no reparation, either in time or in eternity.'"
"Kierkegaard."
"You recognized it right away."
"Saying he is your namesake helped," Nicholas said with a wry smile, "but I was a very depressed, conflicted young man and I found a certain comfort in Kierkegaard's melancholy... and his faith."
"I was also named for my great-grandfather," Sören said. "There's not so many Sörens in Iceland now. But my mamma, she read a lot, and she told me she had named me after my great-grandfather and a very famous philosopher. I've read some philosophy myself. Helped me put my head back together after..." Sören's voice trailed off, not wanting to get into the saga of how he'd almost ended his own life in 2004, ten years ago now, that felt like an entire lifetime away. Anthony knew what Sören was referring to, and put a hand on Sören's arm and squeezed, as if to say I'm glad you're still here.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow but didn't press it. "It's nice to see that the youth still cares about things like philosophy."
Sören snorted. "I just turned thirty."
"That is still 'the youth' to me," Nicholas said.
Anthony got up, and Sören watched as he took the wreath off the inside front door. He brought it over to Nicholas with a smile.
"Thank you," Nicholas said.
"No, thank you," Anthony said. "We were worried we were going to have problems with you..."
"I am sorry for that," Nicholas said. "Truly."
And then Rey came out of her room, as if she'd been eavesdropping, and stood in the doorway. "Can I tell Saint Nick what I want for Christmas now?"
"Oh god..." Sören facepalmed. "Just when we're trying to not get off on the wrong foot..."
Nicholas chuckled. "It's better than her thinking I'm the Grinch. I'm sure she'd have that opinion eventually if I kept up my behavior from last night."
"Well, it's sort of understandable." Once again, Sören felt for him... ached for him. And though he knew he couldn't force Christmas on anyone, and definitely couldn't force "the Christmas spirit" on someone who'd been burned by religion, he nonetheless was determined, now on a mission to cheer Nicholas up, give back somehow to someone who had given so much to others and seemed to have nothing to show for it.