When I was a child, I loved Christmas. I loved the lights, the decorations, the nighttime church service, and of course the presents and the food. But that year the approaching Christmas meant nothing to me. In fact, it depressed me, although I never said that to my siblings. Years later, Ashley and Nigel would tell me that they had felt the same way. But we all tried to make the holiday good for each other. While none of us had much money, we saved what we had for gifts.
Grandpa got a tree. He owned decorations from earlier in his life, so we all trimmed the tree on Christmas Eve. When we finished, we put our meager gifts beneath it. Then we went to a local church for the 10:00 PM service. I suppose it was nice, but I just couldn’t get in the mood.
On Christmas morning, we tried to sleep in, but Grandpa wouldn’t allow that. So we were all up by 7 a.m. having breakfast. We prolonged the meal as long as we could, but soon Grandpa announced that it was time to open the gifts.
Grandpa gave us all clothes, which was fortunate because I was outgrowing what I had. We gave each other CDs.
That was our celebration. Very low-key, but I guess it could have been worse.
Ashley cooked another turkey for dinner, this time planning it better.
In the afternoon, we three kids were in the living room while Grandpa was taking a nap in his bedroom.
I had a book I was reading. Nigel was listening to his new CDs. Ashley was just staring off into space.
We were all surprised when we heard a knock on the front door. Nigel went to answer it, returning a moment later and saying, “Garreth, you have a visitor.”
Puzzled, I went to the door, where Rupert was standing with a big grin on his face.
When I didn’t say anything, he asked, “Can I come in?”
I was reluctant to admit him. He had only briefly met my siblings on the Cape and had never been in our house. But I couldn’t be rude. I stepped back, and he walked in.
“Follow me,” I said and walked into our bedroom. We sat on my bed and just looked silently at each other.
“What?” I said.
He handed me an envelope. Inside was a Christmas card, and in the card was a note. I opened it and read: You are invited to share the February school vacation with the Gordon family on a ski trip to Killington, Vermont.
I looked at him and said, “I can’t accept this.”
He looked crushed. “Why?” he asked.
“There’s no way I could afford such a trip, and besides, I can’t even ski.”
“You don’t understand,” he said. “All your expenses are covered, and they give skiing lessons.”
“I don’t have any skis,” I said, weakly.
“We rent them. There’s no point in buying them or boots or other equipment when we’re growing every year. Garreth, this is a family trip which we’ve taken for years, and my family very much wants you to join us.”
“It’s a lovely thought,” I said, “but it’s too much. There’s no way I could ever repay you all.”
“Nobody wants you to do that. We just want you with us for the week. And you can’t say no, you just can’t!”
I sighed, blinking back the tears in my eyes.
“Besides,” he went on, “we’ll share a private bedroom for a week. Not all the fun will be skiing.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Mom wrote a note to your grandfather,” he continued, handing me another envelope. “It explains everything and asks him to give you permission to go.”
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “You’ve turned one of the worst Christmases ever into one of the best.”
I hugged him, hard, and said, “Thank you.”
I stood up, took his hand, and led him into our living room. “Ashley, Nigel,” I said, “I want you to meet my friend Rupert. He’s invited me to go with his family on a skiing trip to Vermont in February.”
“Oh, Rupert, that’s great,” said Ashley, hugging him.
“Yeah, what she said,” said Nigel, shaking Rupert’s hand.
Rupert and I walked to the door, where we hugged each other and exchanged a quick kiss.
“Can you come over tomorrow?" he asked.
“Probably.”
“We’ll pick you up at 9 unless you call to cancel,” he said. He kissed and hugged me again then bounded out to his car, where his mother was waving at me.
Later in the afternoon, after Grandpa had finished his nap, I handed him the envelope from the Gordons.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Open it, sir,” I said.
He opened it, read it, read it again, looked up at me and said, “Do you want to do this?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“I’ll write back accepting, then.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The next morning, Rupert and his mother arrived. As I got in the car, I thanked his mother for the invitation and handed her Grandpa’s note.
“What did he say?” asked Rupert.
“He said yes,” I answered, giving his hand a squeeze.
At Rupert’s house, he handed me a snow jacket, saying, “Try this on.”
It fit me perfectly.
“It’s my jacket from last year, but I’m a little bigger than you now, so I had to get a new one this year. Mom never throws any clothes out, and anything you need for the trip we can provide. For that matter, if you’ve outgrown your school clothes, I can give you some.” I told him that Grandpa had given me a couple of new shirts, but I needed lots more.
“Come with me,” he said, and I followed him down into his basement, where there were old trunks. He opened one, said, “Nope,” and closed it. When he’d done that with two more trunks, he opened a fourth and said, “Eureka, I’ve found them.”
He loaded my arms with clothes, and I followed him to his room, where he ordered me to try everything on.
By the time I’d finished, I’d acquired new shirts, new trousers, new shorts, and even some new socks.
“Wait a minute,” he said and plunged into his closet. A few seconds later he emerged with a pair of barely worn sneakers and a nearly new pair of snow boots. They fit perfectly. He put everything in a suitcase, telling me to take it with me when I left.
“Now,” he said, “I’ve been looking at your nearly naked body for an hour, and I can’t wait any longer. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. I began to copy him, and soon we were both naked and in each other's arms.
We cuddled for a few minutes, and then he reached down and took my thing in his hand. We lay on his bed facing each other and fondling each other’s thing and balls.
Without letting go, he propped himself up and began kissing and licking me, beginning with my ears and neck, and working his way down my torso. He nibbled my nipples, sending an electric charge through me.
I did the same for him. As we continued to fondle each other, our breathing changed, and I felt that familiar tingle. It was stronger that day.
When we had both reached the peaks of our mountains, lingered, and then descended, we lay back and he now had to wipe off both our tummies.
“That was nice,” he said.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
We dressed and went to the kitchen, where we made sandwiches. After we finished eating, we went for our usual walk to the stream and sat on the rocks.
He giggled. “What?” I asked.
“Do you know what twinks are?”
“No.”
“They’re gay teen boys like us. I was just thinking,” he said, and continued in a commanding voice, “I’ll have two twinks on the rocks, sir.”
I laughed. Then we talked about the trip. I knew it was more than a month-and-a-half away, but I was already getting excited.
When we got cold, we walked back to his room, where he showed me a photo album of pictures from earlier trips the family had taken.
I stayed at Rupert’s for supper, and then Mr. Gordon gave me and my suitcase full of clothes a ride to my house.
School was supposed to resume on the Monday after New Year’s Day. The night before, it began to snow. When I awoke in the morning, there were about five inches of snow on the ground, and it was still coming down. School was cancelled, and Grandpa bemoaned the fact that he only had one shovel.
I put on my new jacket and boots and we went outside. Nigel said he’d begin the shoveling, but we all had to take turns. We quickly discovered that the snow was perfect for snowballs. Ashley and I agreed that the shoveler should not be a target, so the two of us had a snowball fight, laughing and crying out as we pelted each other.
Nigel had divided the driveway into three sections. When he finished his section, he handed me the shovel. Being good snowball snow, it was bad-for-shoveling snow ─ wet and rather heavy ─ but I managed to clear off my section and handed the shovel to Ashley.
Nigel and I then had our own battle. As he was bigger and stronger than me, he pelted me unmercifully, but it was fun.
At one point I looked up and saw Grandpa looking out the window, grinning. Grandpa was grinning! I couldn’t believe it.
When Ashley finished the driveway, we all went into the house, put our wet clothes in the dryer, and took turns showering. Ashley went first so she could make the supper.
At the supper table, Grandpa thanked us for clearing the driveway. It seemed like he wasn’t as gruff as he’d been, and there appeared to be an unspoken truce between him and Nigel.
He reminded us that, while school had been closed on Monday, it’d be open on Tuesday. The three of us groaned.
Sure enough, the next morning the school was open and we were standing outside waiting for our bus.
When we got home from school, Grandpa said to me, “I want to talk with you tonight, so make some time.”
I wondered what he had in mind.
When we finished the supper dishes, he motioned for me to stay behind when Ashley and Nigel went to their rooms.
Oh dear, I thought, I wonder what he wants.
Copyright © 2025 Alan Dwight
Posted 14 May 2025