Biting the Christmas Biscuit by Dawn Kimberly Johnson Page B

crept along and Eli could see the Tucker home at the end of the street. “At Christmas they made sure there was always a glass of milk and a plate of biscuits, or- or cookies rather, set out for St. Nick. In the morning, when the Tucker kids came downstairs, there would be only half a glass of milk….”
    “And a single bite taken out of one of the cookies,” Alec concluded with a smile.
    Eli nodded, then reached out, and took his hand. “My Christmas mornings weren’t like that.”
    “Nor mine,” Alec said. “We had a version of it, but it was more about appearances for my mother than any desire to delight her children.”
    “What did she do?”
    “She bought the cookies, set them out with milk, and added a tiny card that read: For Santa.” Eli smiled at him, waiting for more. “Her perfect little display sat there throughout her yearly Christmas party and then got thrown out after everyone left.” He smiled sadly as he remembered.
    The car stopped in front of a large brick house trimmed in tiny, blinking white lights. In the front yard, two decorative pines were strung with matching lights and topped with giant red velvet bows. There were large crystal candles marking the stairs that led to the front door. Alec choked up a bit over such a perfect picture while Eli paid the driver. They exited the vehicle and collected their bags from the trunk.
    The snow crunched under its tires as the taxi carefully drove away, leaving them standing by the curb and staring up at a life-sized Christmas card that was the Tucker home. Alec had their luggage while Eli carried two shopping bags of wrapped gifts.
    The snowfall had grown heavier, and it was so quiet out that they could almost hear the flakes whisper as they joined their brethren on the ground. They looked at each other and silently considered fleeing, maybe even finding a hotel, but the inviting warmth pouring off the house was not to be resisted and they each took a simultaneous and tentative step forward.
    “Now tell me again, who’s who,” Alec said as they approached warily.
    Eli was watching where he placed his cane for fear of slipping. “Well, there’s Beverly and Sean, Bennett’s parents; Carmondy and probably her little girl Leah: his sister and niece—she’s five now, I think, and then there’s his brother, Arthur, and his wife and son.” As they neared the house, a great roar erupted from inside, followed closely by raucous laughter. They paused and looked uncertainly at one another again. “Could be more,” Eli said shakily and smiled.
    “Any suggestions?”
    They climbed the front steps carefully. Alec supported Eli by holding tightly to his left arm while he pushed himself up with his cane. “Suggestions?” Eli repeated right before ringing the doorbell. “Just accept it.”
    “Huh?”
    “The love,” he said and smiled, hoping that hadn’t sounded too corny. “Believe me, I felt awkward around them at first. It takes getting used to, but eventually they wear you down, so just accept it. They’re for real.” The door opened and they were bathed in light as a multitude of voices shouted, “Eli!” For a moment, Alec thought he saw tears in his boyfriend’s eyes.
    A few minutes later, Eli found himself alone in the kitchen with Mrs. Tucker and Carmondy. He struggled to keep up with Beverly’s constantly changing emotions as she welcomed him back.
    “Just look at you!” she exclaimed. “So handsome!” She gazed into his eyes. “Your hair’s a bit longer than I remember, and you have a tiny bit of fuzz on your face, but those lovely eyes of yours. So very handsome! I can see how you caught my boy’s eye!”
    Despite her somewhat biased opinion, her assessment was accurate. Thanks to excellent doctors, Eli remained beautiful despite the beating he’d survived. His facial scars were mere ghosts of what they had been, but the scar running the length of his leg was another matter. It remained dark and angry.
    “Thank you,