All Hearts Come Home For Christmas
#3 of Berty
Callum and Berty spend their first Christmas in the league apart. The growing distance between them starts straining at their friendship.
This story is a collaboration between myself and Rourkie, featuring our characters Berty Lavoie-Williams and Callum Williamson. Mackie Sharp belongs to Corrine. The cover art is by JaymzeeCat.
Christmas Eve, 2020
"Are you nervous?"
Berty glanced back over at Mackie, sitting in the seat next to him. He barely heard the Australian shepherd over the soft beeping and the general rumble of a plane beginning its descent. Berty shrugged over at him.
"Not nervous. Not really. They said that they liked you after the draft."
Mackie rolled his eyes back at the kangaroo. "That was one evening where they barely got to talk to me between all the announcements. I'd be impressed if they even remembered my name after that."
"Oh come on." Berty gave a small, playful shove to the dog's arm. "They're going to love you."
The shepherd raised an eyebrow over at the kangaroo. "Are you trying to reassure me or yourself with that?"
Berty snorted. "Please. You've already heard all the horror stories about my moms. They're really not that bad, though. I'm just thinking that I haven't brought a boyfriend back to meet them since, uh..." The kangaroo trailed off, thinking.
"Sometime in university?"
"Nah. I was never that serious with anybody in university. I only ever brought Callum home for all that time. The last time I brought a boyfriend to meet them was Devlin Markel in, like, grade 10?"
The shepherd blinked. "'Devlin Markel.' Why does he sound like he's from a bad romance book?"
"Dancer. I think he's studying at the conservatory now. I brought him home for dinner, and I'm pretty sure my moms scared him off. I haven't brought a boyfriend to meet them since then." The kangaroo lapsed into silence as the flight attendants moved through the cabin, ensuring everything was ready for landing. He didn't notice the look that Mackie was giving him for a few long moments. When he did, Berty gave him a questioning look, before realizing what he had just said. He cleared his throat. "He was fifteen and I don't think his parents had ever sworn in front of him before. Look, they'll love you. You'll be fine."
Mackie rolled his eyes. "Well what did they say when you told them I was coming?"
"Not much? I said I was bringing somebody special home for Christmas. They were cool with it."
"You're not filling me with much confidence."
Berty leaned over and rested his head against the shepherd's shoulder. As the lights went out ahead of the landing, the kangaroo said, "Relax. Besides, I rented a nice town car, and I intend to have it take us to all my favourite Christmas displays in Toronto before we head to my moms' place. You'll have plenty of time to chill out before we get there."
Christmas Eve, 2020
Callum struggled to fish his keys out of his pocket and entered his apartment. He was clad in a brightly-colored Christmas sweater, with golden wreaths and green fir trees peeking over the top of the grocery bag he was carrying as he pushed his way into his living quarters.
He put the brown bag on the counter, dropped his duffel bag on his bed, and began to strip out of his clothing. The wallaby might have been off for two days for Christmas, but he had still taken the opportunity to work out that morning. He had expected to be in no shape to work out the following day, so he wanted to get something in before he drunk himself into a stupor and shut out the world for the next two days.
Callum started the water for a bath and put on his Christmas playlist over the sound system built into his small apartment. He was humming along with "O Holy Night" as he started to undress when his phone rang. It wasn't Aldrich, or Berty, or Saphira; wasn't any of their ringtones. He let it go to voicemail. Whomever it was, they could afford to wait. It was Christmas, after all.
He stripped the rest of the way, and scrutinized himself a little in the mirror. His roots were showing, but he hadn't had time to re-dye his hair since the Olympics. "Fuck it, I deserve a bubble bath." He paid no mind when the voicemail tone on his phone went off. He slipped into the water with a sigh and relaxed. "Mmmmmm..."
Two more notifications gave him pause. Text messages now. He grumbled a little and groaned, leaning for the phone on his countertop. "Dorothy?"
Callum, I know Berty said you ordered a car, but you can cancel it.
Brunch finished early, so we can come pick you guys up at the airport today after all.
"Wait, what!?" Callum panicked, checking through his calendar and texts. Did he miss something? Was he meant to... no, Berty hadn't said anything about going back for Christmas. He most decidedly hadn't-- the roo really hadn't said much to him at all lately. The wallaby frowned and texted back:
I think there must be some mistake. I'm not with Berty.
There was a pause. Callum held his phone, eying it with confusion and trying to keep himself from freaking out. Eventually, it rang again, and he swiped to answer it, almost letting it slip between his paws. "Hello?"
"Hey, Callum." Dorothy's voice came through the other end. "Merry Christmas, kiddo."
"Merry Christmas to you too!" he responded, his ears perking.
"It's good to hear your voice, kid. You should call more often." There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. "So you're not with Berty? He said he was bringing home 'someone special' for Christmas."
"No, honestly? I haven't talked to Berty all month, really. Sorry if there were some crossed wires, he must have meant someone else. Probably his boyfriend, if I had to guess." He tried to keep his voice steady, but he couldn't help the twinge and waver that started to sneak in.
"Oh." Dorothy was quiet again. "So what are your plans over your Christmas break? Doing anything with your teammates?"
"Not really, I guess. Probably just make some popcorn and watch a couple of movies I guess. Pretty low key." He tried not to sound too disappointed.
"Oh, alright," she responded, not wanting to push the wallaby. "Well... sorry about the confusion. Have a good night, okay?"
"Yeah, sure, you guys have a great night too. Good to hear your voice, too, by the way." He didn't trust himself to say anything else.
"Merry Christmas, Callum."
Callum hung up and tossed the phone onto his bathmat. The dam broke, and he sunk into his bath, as his tears spilled and mingled into bubbles, soaked up unnoticed by the bathwater.
Christmas Eve, 2016
"...I know, I know, I'll be on time for the flight." Berty had his phone to his ear as he made his way through the Claiborne athletics center. He had a zip-up hoodie hanging off of his shoulders, draped over the light, loose clothing he wore. There was still a bit of sweat in his fur as he made his way through the nearly empty building. Most of the campus's population had left for Christmas days ago.
The kangaroo groaned at the voice on the other end of his phone. "Look, it's not a big deal. I booked my flight later in the day specifically in case of something like this." He reached the door to the basketball team's men's locker room, then fished in his pocket for his keycard. "I'll call you when I get to the airport, okay?" He waved his card over the lock, then pressed his shoulder against the door to open it.
He only had a moment to notice that the lights were on before he heard a startled yelp from inside the room. Berty blinked and nearly dropped his phone. He fumbled with it for a moment, then checked - his mom had already hung up. He sighed, shoved the phone into his pocket, and then actually looked up into the locker room.
Standing across from him was a wallaby in the Claiborne basketball team's red and white workout gear. Berty raised an eyebrow at Callum as the wallaby stared back at him, looking like a deer in headlights.
"Uh." The kangaroo was quiet for a second. "Sorry for startling you?"
Callum kept staring at him, eyes wide. He looked like he had been about to start getting changed - his street clothes were laid out on the bench beside him.
After what felt like an eternity, Callum cleared his throat. "It's alright."
There was another long moment of quiet, and then Berty shook his head. He was running late. He stepped over to his locker and started unlocking it.
Callum was still watching him, not moving. Not one for letting silence go unfilled, the wallaby ventured to say, "Why're you still here? I thought you were headed home for Christmas."
"I am." Berty finished entering his combo. He reached in, and then pulled out a duffel bag. He unzipped it and glanced inside, speaking distractedly. "Just have to grab some stuff I left here this morning."
The wallaby still wasn't moving. His expression was changing from surprise to curiosity, though. "Why leave it here?"
"Because the dance studio doesn't really have any room to store stuff." The kangaroo pulled out a heavy winter coat, along with a couple wrapped gifts. He eyed them, going over a mental checklist in his head to make sure he hadn't forgotten something. "So I stored it here before going to practice."
"Wait, you're still dancing?" The wallaby sounded a bit exasperated. "Coach Hernandez told you to take a break!"
"It's how I deal with stress. Besides, I can handle it."
"You're going to hurt yourself, you know."
Berty's tail gave a small, sharp twitch. He shoved the coat and the gifts back into the bag. "I noticed that despite Coach Hernandez's instructions, you don't seem to have cut back on your diet," he quipped, noting the wallaby's snug jersey.
Callum glared back at the kangaroo, though he didn't seem to notice. "It's how I deal with stress," he shot back. Berty didn't look at him as he zipped the bag up, and slung it over his shoulder.
"I have a flight to catch. Have a good Christmas, Callum."
"Whatever. You too. Enjoy your trip home."
He made his way back out of the locker room without looking at Callum again. The wallaby still hadn't moved.
Christmas Eve, 2020
There was some confusion when Berty and Mackie stepped into arrivals and found that Berty's moms were already there waiting for them. After the kangaroo cancelled the car he had booked, the four drove home together. With a bit of goading, Berty still convinced them to take the scenic route home, and they drove past a few of the better displays that had been set up throughout Toronto.
When they arrived at Berty's moms' apartment, Mallory led Berty and Mackie to the restaurant's street level entrance. While Mallory unlocked the door, Dorothy made her way up to the apartment upstairs.
"I thought you said the restaurant was going to be open on Christmas Eve?" Berty asked, hands in his coat pockets. He was glancing up at the dark front windows, raising an eyebrow.
"One of the many benefits of owning several restaurants is that sometimes you can afford to take a day off." The squirrel's tail twitched as she held the door open for Berty and Mackie. "Of course, the tradeoff is having no time to yourself the rest of the year."
Berty led Mackie into the restaurant itself. He looked back at his mom over his shoulder. "So what, not going to cash in on the Christmas rush?"
"Why do that when I can spend an evening with the little devil and his handsome chum?" She closed the door behind her, and then slipped past the two of them. She was tiny next to the two basketball players, but she moved through the restaurant with comfort that only came from years of experience. The squirrel slipped behind the bar, and started making her way over to the kitchen. "Berty, pick some wine. Red. Something with tannin. Pour some for your boyfriend. Mackie, how big is your appetite?"
The shepherd blinked. He watched as Berty ducked behind the bar as well, and made his way over to a wine rack. After a moment, he cleared his throat, then said, "I'm a pro basketball player and I'm almost seven feet tall. So uh... pretty big?"
Mallory ducked her head out from the kitchen. At some point she had picked up a rather large carving knife, and she pointed at the dog with it. "Good. Berty, he's passing the first test with flying colours."
"Maman, please don't point kitchen implements at my boyfriend." Berty stood back up, carrying a bottle of wine. He set about uncorking it and grabbing a few glasses.
"My useless son told you about our Christmas traditions, right?"
"He mentioned something about a lot of food and not a lot of sleep."
"That's about right. Which is good - I don't think the bunk bed in Berty's room is quite long enough for you."
Mackie snorted, and glanced over at Berty. "Bunk bed?"
Berty passed the shepherd a full glass of wine. "Look, I was a social butterfly in middle school. I had many social engagements and sleepovers. A bunk bed was just practical."
Mallory's voice called from the kitchen. "And he threw a hissy fit when we tried to replace it with a normal bed in high school."
He groaned. "Could we wait, like, an hour before divulging the embarrassing secrets?"
"Are you asking your mother, a full-blooded French Canadian, to exercise restraint on Christmas Eve?" Berty and Mackie turned to see Dorothy walking through the front door. The towering kangaroo had a large bag slung over her shoulder. She looked lost for a moment before calling out. "Mal. I uh, had to make some room upstairs for the table. Where can I put this stuff?"
"Over in the staff room is fine."
Dorothy nodded, and disappeared into the back of the restaurant. Berty and Mackie sipped at their glasses of wine, until Dorothy returned and eyed the shepherd. "Mackenzie, right?"
"Mackie's fine."
"Mackie. Well, since you've actually got some meat on your bones, unlike certain other basketball players present-"
"Mom."
"-why don't you help me bring yours and Berty's bags upstairs? Then you can help me carry one of these tables up. Ours is a bit, uh, small for four."
Mackie shot Berty a glance, and Berty shrugged. The shepherd got up and followed the older kangaroo out towards the car.
Berty had a moment or two to sit at the bar, sipping his wine, before Mallory's voice called. "Well come on, bring me a glass back here."
The kangaroo sighed, then picked up his own glass and one of the two full ones sitting on the bar. He stepped behind the bar, and then through the small hallway to the kitchen in the back. His mom had already put her bandanna on, and was making quick work of a pile of brussels sprouts with that large knife. Berty put the full glass down a safe distance away from her, and then watched in silence while she worked.
Everything was quiet in the kitchen, aside from the sound of the knife's edge touching gently against the cutting board. After a few seconds of Berty watching, the squirrel bobbed her head over at him. "There's some shallots in the prep fridge. Grab and dice them."
Berty blinked, and almost dropped his glass. He glanced back and forth between her and the fridge. "What, in here?"
"Yes."
"In your kitchen?"
"Did I stutter?"
Berty hesitated, but not for long. He put his glass down, then went and fetched the shallots. He set himself up at the prep station next to his mom, fetched a knife, and started dicing.
All was quiet between them as they worked. Berty tried to not dodge glances over at his mom. He was afraid that his hands were going to shake as he did the familiar task of cutting up the shallots.
Eventually the squirrel stepped over to the grill, and got a flame going. She slid a large skillet onto the heat. She stood back, watching the pan warm. When she spoke, her voice was neutral. "So you and Mackie. This must make... three months now?"
Berty paused in his cutting, trying to read the tone in his mom's voice. He shrugged, then got back to work. "Actually closer to six or seven. We started seeing each other before we graduated. Long distance, of course."
She nodded, not responding at first. She headed over to the prep fridge and got out some pancetta, which she handed to Berty. He wordlessly swapped over to the meat, and cut the slices into thin strips. He stepped back, and she gathered it all up onto another cutting board before dumping it into the pan. It hissed and sizzled as it hit the heat.
"That's a while."
"I guess. I don't know, is it?"
He didn't have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes. "Berty, come on. A month used to be a long time for you to have the same best friend." She started stirring the pancetta around the pan.
Berty finished up with his shallots. He put down the knife, then carried the cutting board over and left it within her arm's reach. "Please. That was when I was, like, 13."
"Wasn't too far off in high school, either. And even in university, most of your boyfriends lasted for what? A week? Two weeks?"
Berty didn't say anything. She picked up the cutting board, and slid the shallots into the pan with the pancetta. The hissing jumped in volume, and she began stirring in earnest.
"Get the brussels ready to dump in."
Berty nodded, and picked up the large board of sliced brussels sprouts. Again, he didn't speak as he waited for her to give the order.
"The shallots could've been a bit more uniform. Looks like you were getting coarse with them towards the end." Berty started to let out a sigh, but she continued. "It's just nice to see you with a par... I guess with a boyfriend for this long. Add the brussels and pass me my wine."
Christmas Eve, 2017
They stepped off of the train and onto the platform, Berty leading and Callum a step behind, both with their duffel bags slung over their shoulders. The two of them ducked around the few other people in the subway station, and then started up the staircase.
They were about halfway up when Berty glanced back and asked, "Are you nervous?"
Callum blinked. "What? Why?"
"Because you've barely said anything since we got off of the plane. This might be the longest I've heard you be quiet while not sleeping."
Callum stuck his tongue out at Berty, and the kangaroo laughed. They reached the top of the steps, and then headed out of the doors into the dark grey of the late afternoon. They were immediately buffeted by Toronto's sharp winds, racing down the long streets before them. The boys both stuffed their hands into the pockets of their coats, and started walking, Berty staying slightly in the lead. The kangaroo knew better than to push the wallaby any further - he could wait for a response.
They had gone about a block before Callum sighed audibly from behind Berty. "Alright, fine. I'm a little nervous about having flown across the continent to spend Christmas with my roommate's family."
Berty hesitated before responding. "Look, Callum, if I crossed a line or something by inviting you, or made you feel obligated--"
"What? Oh, god no. This is great."
"I just felt really shitty when you mentioned that you didn't do Christmas last year. Besides, Christmas seems like a very..." He searched for a word, then made a vague gesture towards the wallaby. "It seems like a very 'you' holiday."
"You mean 'extra' as hell?"
"Hey, I didn't say it."
Callum snorted. A particularly strong gust of wind rushed down the street at them, and they both ducked their heads and pushed forward. Berty's hair was down after the day of flights, and the russet red strands were blowing wildly behind him. Callum couldn't decide if his roommate looked sexy like that, or just a bit ridiculous.
They turned and started walking along a side street, mercifully sheltered from the wind. Callum continued.
"I don't know... It's weird."
"Me inviting you?"
"No. Well, maybe? Yeah, I guess? I don't know. Like you said, I haven't really, you know, 'done Christmas' in the past, uh..." Callum trailed off as he tried to remember. "...decade and a bit?"
Berty stopped dead in his tracks, and Callum almost walked into him. The kangaroo turned around to face the wallaby, and raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what? A decade?"
"Yeah." Callum shrugged. "Mom and dad stopped paying for tickets home when I was 9. Maybe 8?"
"Oh." Berty didn't move. "Uh, how close are you with, uh..."
"That's a conversation for another time." Callum nodded meaningfully. "And probably not when we're headed towards what's supposed to be a happy, festive time."
"Right, right." The kangaroo turned, and started walking again. It took a little bit for Berty to pipe back up. "Well, at least this should be interesting."
"What?"
"You haven't done Christmas in a decade, and we're about to walk into, um..."
"Oh my god, please don't tell me one of your moms has, like, a creepy collection of Santa figurines or is going to make us act out the nativity."
"No," Berty laughed harder at that than Callum had expected. "God, no. Look, full disclosure - we're legal drinking age here. We're going to spend most of the night drinking, eating too much food, listening to French Christmas carols, watching bad movies, and not sleeping."
It was Callum's turn to be surprised. "Oh."
"Think you can handle that?"
"Yeah, that sounds... kind of amazing, actually."
"Good. My moms are cool, you'll like them. Maman's going to keep feeding you until you can't possibly fit anymore in, and uh, my pouch mom's probably going to hug you. Fair warning."
Callum snickered. "I think I can probably handle a hug."
"Okay, but like, big kangaroo. Big hug. I'll even let you have the bottom bunk when we inevitably pass out at like three in the afternoon tomorrow. At least you might be short enough to fit in it."
"Bunk beds? That's pretty cool! I always wanted bunk beds when I was a kid."
The pair kept walking, keeping up a steady stream of conversation. Callum knew that much of Berty's talking was to try to help him relax, but he didn't call the kangaroo out on it. He was actually kind of grateful for the distraction.
Soon enough, the pair reached a busier street, and turned onto it. They walked for a few more minutes through the cold and the gathering dark, before they reached a two story brick building on a corner. Callum could make out pounding music coming from the building - something with a heavy bass track. As they drew closer, the disorganized buzz of many people speaking joined with the music, and he caught a whiff of something. He couldn't tell exactly what, but it was definitely cooking in butter and garlic. Heavenly.
There were a pair of massive windows in the front, and through them they could make out a narrow restaurant with a crowded bar and several full tables way in the back. An awning over the window read in cursive script, "Ouragan." Inside, servers were rushing from table to table. A chalkboard in the window said in big, bold letters, "Reservations only for Christmas Eve!"
"Hurricane, huh?" Callum commented, with a little bit of a smirk. "Nice."
As they crossed in front of the restaurant, the pair stopped to watch the activity. Berty gave a small sigh.
"Well, this means you probably won't get to meet maman until after midnight, based on this. Who knows, maybe it might get crazy enough that she'll let me help."
Callum glanced over sharply at him. "Wait, really?" Traveling across the continent to spend Christmas with his roommate's family was one thing. Doing that, and then being left alone for most of the evening with his roommate's mom was quite another.
"Nah." The kangaroo almost sounded wistful. "She would never let me into her kitchen. Come on."
He led Callum past the windows and the front entrance to an unremarkable door a bit further along the building. Berty got out a key, unlocked the door, and glanced back at Callum.
"You ready?"
Callum shrugged, then nodded.
Berty nodded back, and opened the door. He called up, "Mom, we're home!"
Christmas Day, 2020
Berty's moms insisted on driving Berty and Mackie to the airport the next morning. The kangaroo and the shepherd had argued that they could easily afford the cab fare so that Mallory and Dorothy could sleep.
After a great deal of protest, though, the two of them had squeezed into the back of Mallory's car, and started the drive back out to Pearson Airport. The squirrel had already downed a large mug of coffee that morning, and she had a full travel mug in the cupholder beside her. Everybody was quiet as they drove - they were all exhausted after the long night.
When they got to the airport, Mallory drove up to the departures dropoff. They pulled up in front of the doors, and all four of them stumbled out of the car. Mallory was a bit twitchy, but the other three all had heavy bags under their eyes and were moving slowly.
"It was good to meet you, Mackie," Dorothy said, blinking sleep from her eyes. Mallory sighed and gave her a small elbow in the side, and the kangaroo gave a start. "Sorry, meet you again. I guess. Actually meet you. You know what I mean."
The shepherd laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. It was great actually getting to know you two, too."
"You keep the little devil out of trouble, you hear?"
"Mom, he's my boyfriend, not my chaperone."
"I'm speaking to Mackie, dear." Berty rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Dorothy returned her gaze to Mackie. "Promise?"
"I'll keep him in line."
"Good."
Dorothy pulled the dog into a tight, spine-cracking hug. She released him, and headed back into the car. Mallory followed her, but paused before she got into the driver's seat.
"You two get through security and go right to your gate. Set an alarm on your phones, too. I plan to be asleep in an hour, and I don't want to have to drive back to pick you up if you fall asleep and miss your flight."
"We will, maman."
"Good. Was good seeing you again, Mackie. Next time, visit when the restaurant's open."
"I will!"
She got into the driver's seat, and the two of them pulled away. Berty and Mackie stood there for a few moments with their duffel bags on their backs.
It was Mackie who broke the silence. "So... all we have to do now is stay awake through a second family Christmas with absolutely no sleep. Easy, right?"
"Don't forget finding more room for food with all the tourtiere and tarte au sucre."
"Oh god, don't even joke about more food right now."
"And here I thought you were supposed to, 'keep me in line.'" Berty grinned over at the shepherd.
"Oh, shut up," Mackie laughed, shaking his head.
Berty reached over and patted him on the shoulder, then turned and walked towards the entrance. "Come on. Onward to Florida!"
It didn't take them long to clear security. Once they were through, they headed right to their gate and grabbed a couple seats. They both had agreed that they would try to catch up on sleep during the flight, so neither fetched any coffee.
They had been sitting there for a few minutes, with Berty resting his head on Mackie's fluffy shoulder, when the kangaroo heard a soft noise and felt a vibration next to him. He blinked, and tilted his head to look up at Mackie a bit more.
"Are you humming 'Minuit Chrétiens'?"
"Your mom's Christmas music playlist wasn't long. We heard it a lot last night."
Berty snorted, and then nuzzled in further against the dog's fluff. He was just beginning to nod off when Mackie's humming faded, and he spoke.
"So, uh... is it true that most of your other boyfriends haven't lasted that long?"
Berty tensed, surprised. He had to think to remember the conversation he'd had with his mom the night before. "So you heard that talk?"
"Yeah. Sorry, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. Your mom and I were moving stuff, and I just overheard."
"It's alright. As for the thing about boyfriends, uh, yeah. I guess. I think the longest that one of them has lasted is a month?"
"Oh. That's not very long."
Berty shrugged. He hesitated before answering. "I don't know. I think I just get bored. Or something like that. They want more from me, and I don't always want to give it. It's been the same with most of my closer friends over the years. Callum's the first person outside of my family that I've let get much closer than that."
Mackie was quiet for a bit. He yawned once before he spoke again. "So, what about us?"
"What about us?"
"We've been doing this for a lot longer than a month."
Berty didn't answer. He could feel the dog's shoulder tensing against his head.
Mackie cleared his throat. "Like... is it because we've been doing this long distance? Or is there something different about this? Or what?"
Berty groaned. "I don't know. It's fun. I like it. It makes me happy. You listened to me whine when Callum went away for the Olympics. You go on random tangents about frigging rocket science that I don't understand at all. You don't laugh too much when I get too emotional talking about musicals. My moms like you. Isn't that enough?"
"It's enough for me." Berty could hear the hesitation in Mackie's voice when he continued. "Are you sure that it's enough for you?"
Berty was very quiet. At length, he turned and pressed his face harder into the dog's shoulder. "Could we not talk about it right now?"
"Sure." Mackie's head came down to rest on top of Berty's. Berty could feel the vibration of Mackie's voice as the dog spoke. "So, what's Callum up to for Christmas? Did you guys talk about it?"
Christmas Day, 2018
"Oh god, I am so full. I thought last year I was going to burst, but this year, your squirrel-mom has not let my paws, or my stomach, go empty for more than a few minutes without a new drink or treat to show off. Not that I'm really complaining, but I'm glad that I have all week to digest before we have to go back to practice," Callum commented as Berty's moms fussed about various parts of the apartment, preparing the next event in what was a veritable gauntlet of food and fun.
"I told you, my moms don't do Christmas lightly. Besides, they really like you. I don't think they've ever doted on me as much as they have on you," Berty joked. "Also, I think maman felt bad about having to work last year, so she's making up for lost time. And lost calories. Trust me, it's how she shows her love."
"Well, at least they let us sleep in this morning and skip breakfast. I don't think I would have had room for Christmas Dinner otherwise." Both boys had been so full and so drunk by the time they stumbled into the bedroom around 5:00 a.m. that morning that neither of them had cared that they ended up passed out in the bottom bunk together.
"Who's ready for dessert?" Mallory asked as she came back up the stairs, carrying in a yule log from the restaurant refrigerator. "We've got Buche de Noel, sugar pie, trifle..." She laughed when both of the boys groaned. "I'm kidding, you've got at least half an hour before the pudding is completely set. Now go, grab some eggnog and join us in the living room."
The "living room" was just the other side of the dining room, with the two areas divided simply by a standing screen wall the women had put up to make the dining area more cozy. The whole layout was an open concept L, with the small table marking the corner between kitchen and living space. Callum liked that the space was compact; it was cozy. He still remembered Dorothy's comment from the year before: "Hope you don't mind that the table is small. We don't have a lot of company often, but it's just the right size for the three of us, and the occasional special guest." Callum thought it was just the right size.
But by now, he was familiar with the solid wooden table that had sat in the corner for so many years. Berty had surprised him by asking Callum to visit for a few weeks last summer, instead of staying on campus alone during the warm months. What was supposed to be a relatively short trip lasted almost two months as Berty's moms grew to know, and like, the wallaby a fair bit in that time.
Since then, Dorothy had stayed in touch every so often, checking in on Callum from time to time. Berty recognized a shared competitive streak among the two of them, which they seemed to bond over. Not to say that the tall and lanky kangaroo wasn't competitive, but he recognized that no one would ever describe him as "scrappy," in the same way that he had heard both his mother and his roommate described before.
Berty was also thankful for the buffer the wallaby provided between him and his moms; Callum's presence eased some of the tension and worry they felt about him being away at college. They seemed genuinely pleased that their little devil had someone looking out for him, and that the boys hadn't gotten sick of each other after living a year (now almost a year and a half) together, especially after the way Berty used to describe the explosive spats he and Callum had during their freshman year.
The boys sat down on the comfortable loveseat and cozied up to one another, just as much for warmth as companionship. Even after sleeping that morning, they were both pretty exhausted. The wallaby blushed a little at how warm the kangaroo felt next to him, and how nice it was that morning to have a warm body to help counter the cold Canadian morning.
He didn't have much time to muse over it as Mallory took the armchair next to them and Dorothy brought over one of the kitchen chairs for herself. But instead of sitting, she raised her glass.
"À une bonne famille et à de bons amis!" To good family and good friends. The rest of them followed suit and raised their own glasses; she let everyone take a drink before continuing. "We're so glad you're both here. This has been the best Christmas a mother could ask for. A loving wife, and two handsome men to share it with." She bent over to pick up a present from under the tree.
Callum leaned back a little, trying not to be in the way as the others prepared to open their gifts. Last year he had been able to escape to the dining table as the others exchanged gifts, but that proved to be a lot harder to manage this year with Berty leaning on him.
He was startled out of his thoughts as a brightly colored package was tossed his way and landed on his lap. He blinked in surprise when he noticed his own name on the gift tag, looking up to discover Mallory and Dorothy grinning at him, as his brain tried to process what was happening.
The three of them watched the wallaby expectantly as he finally took the hint to open his gift when Berty nudged him. Inside the box was a sweater: brightly-colored, with golden wreaths and green fir trees. Below that, written in bright red wool was the phrase: All Hearts Come Home for Christmas. Callum blinked back his tears as a goofy smile spread across his face. Aside from a few small gift exchanges with his basketball teams, it was the first real Christmas gift he had received since his parents started sending him to boarding school.
"Wow, I... I don't know what to say... thank you..."
"Merry Christmas, kiddo."
Christmas Day, 2020
The ringing of Callum's phone felt like a drill against the inside of his temple. He groaned, then rolled over in his bed. He reached out blindly, feeling around until he found a pillow. He used it to fold his ears down and squeeze them against the side of his head, muffling the noise.
He thought he had solved the problem, up until he felt the phone's vibrations. He hissed out a few choice expletives, and then tossed the pillow away from himself. He reached out again, fumbling around on his bedside table until his fingers touched on his phone. He swiped at the screen a few times, his eyes still stubbornly shut, until he heard the click of the phone answering.
He took two deep breaths before muttering, "Hello?"
"Callum? What, couldn't find your phone or something?"
"Dorothy?" Callum finally opened his eyes, and squinted up at the ceiling. The light coming in through the window wasn't helping the pounding in his forehead. "Sorry. Yeah, I had trouble...uh..." he struggled to think of an excuse, but none would come to him. "... finding my phone. Merry Christmas?"
"Merry Christmas to you, too, kiddo!" Dorothy fell quiet for a moment, and Callum picked up the sound of quiet cursing in French in the background. "So we had meant for this to be a bit of a surprise at the door, but I guess you need to get buzzed in to get into your building, and Mal can't figure out how to buzz up to your room-"
"I've almost got it! They just make these stupid things so hard to use."
"So..." Dorothy continued awkwardly. "Um... think you could buzz us in, and we'll come on up?"
Callum kept staring up at the ceiling, his groggy brain having trouble keeping up with what Dorothy was saying. Then he blinked, and he sat up. He instantly regretted it, as a wave of nausea and pain washed through his head. He sat on the edge of his bed, clenched his eyes shut, and squeezed the bridge of his muzzle. "Wait. Are you saying that you two are here, right now? In Albany."
"Yeeesssss." Dorothy drew the word out, and there was another round of cursing in French from the background. "Surprise?"
Callum sat there, not moving. He opened his eyes again, and looked down at himself. He was still in his bathrobe from last night. It looked like he had slept on top of his sheets, and his fur had the messy look of having slept on it while it was still wet. He could smell the booze that was left out somewhere in his apartment. "Oh. Oh! Uh, great!"
"So just buzz us through and we'll be right up. Don't mean to rush you, but it's pretty cold out here."
"Yeah, yeah, sure, of course." Callum stood up, and his bedroom spun around him. He stood still and clenched his eyes shut until the vertigo went away. "Just give me a second."
He stumbled to the kitchen, glancing around. He was trying to make a mental list of what was a reasonable level of bachelor clutter, and what was clearly "over the line." Okay, now filter down the second list to what he could deal with in... just under two minutes?
He reached his buzzer button, and then hit it. "You should be able to get in. Are you guys good?"
"Mal?" Callum waited, resisting the urge to curse under his breath as the seconds passed, his hangover temporarily sobering as the panic set in from seeing at just how trashed his apartment was. Dorothy's voice came through again. "Yep, we're in. See you in a minu-"
"Okay, seeyousoon, bye!"
Callum hung up the phone, and then took off for the bathroom like he was on a fast break. His clothes from the night before, as well as an empty bottle of rum and a tumbler were on the floor. It looked like he had forgotten to drain his bath, too. Great. He pulled the plug, gathered up the detritus, and made his way back to the kitchen. He put the empty glass in the sink, the bottle with his collection of empties, and then sprinted for the bedroom at a stumbling run.
He tossed all the dirty clothes into a hamper, and then dashed to his closet. He grabbed the first pair of clean pants he could find that weren't a pair of sweatpants, and struggled to get them on without falling over. He briefly had to jump on one hand as he yanked his pants onto each leg, and that made him feel everything he had eaten and drank from the night before wanting to escape up his throat, but he forced it back down. Buttoning them was out of the question the way he currently felt. So was squeezing into his binder. He grabbed his Christmas sweater and tugged it down over his bare top half; it wasn't like Mallory and Dorothy didn't know anyway.
Callum paused for a moment to look in the mirror. His fading blue hair was a mess, and god, his eyes were bloodshot. He licked his hands, and tried to push his hair into a more reasonable configuration, and then stumbled over to the kitchen to see what he could get done there.
As he surveyed the damage, he heard the knocking at the door. Even that sound made him wince, and his ears splayed back reflexively. Fuck, why was it so loud? He glanced around at the kitchen, and forced himself to take a deep breath. Frig, well... this was as good as it was going to get.
He shoved as much as he could into the sink, and then stepped over to the door, fumbled with the lock, and opened it. The bright light of the hallway flooded in around the two figures standing there, making Callum wince. He had to resist the urge to look away.
"Hey!" he managed to say with what he hoped was a friendly smile, "Merry Christmas!"
He was enveloped in a hug, and nearly lifted off the ground with the force of it. Despite how his head felt, he couldn't hold back a bit of a breathless laugh as Dorothy's voice boomed. "Merry Christmas, kiddo!" She plopped him back down, and kept her hands on his shoulders as he stumbled some. She glanced over her shoulder, and said, "Mal, you were right, he's hung over."
"Only a little bit!" Callum protested. Dorothy squeezed by him in the hallway, and Mallory followed her in. The squirrel had a bag over her shoulder. She gave him a much more tame hug, then pulled back to eye him.
"Callum, I work in food service. I know when somebody's hung over."
"Just a bit."
She wrinkled her nose as he spoke. "Rum?"
He made to protest again, then just sighed. "Alright, fine, yes. Rum."
She rolled her eyes. "Have you had breakfast yet?"
"No..."
"Hangover special it is. Go on, to the living room with you. Also, your sweater's on backwards."
He groaned, but turned and led her into the apartment. Dorothy was already sitting in the living room section of the apartment. She gestured to Mallory when they came in, and the squirrel handed her the bag. Mallory headed into the adjoining kitchen while Callum flopped down into an armchair. She took the liberty to plug her oPod into the soundsystem, and immediately the dulcet tones of a familiar Christmas music playlist started playing throughout the apartment. Thankfully the squirrel had the foresight to turn the volume down beforehand.
"Well at least you set up a Christmas tree." Dorothy quipped, eying the tree by the window as she opened the blinds to let a little light into the room. It was a smaller tree; Callum had bought it a couple of weeks back from his friend Zack's former boy scout troop after the beaver had suggested he visit them, but he also hadn't wanted to get something too difficult to travel upstate with.
Callum nodded slowly, as he turned his sweater around. Now that he wasn't trying to hide his hangover, he was being much more restrained in his movements. "Yeah. I felt like I needed something to make this place feel a bit more home-y for the holidays."
The decorations were pretty plain - some lights and a few ornaments. There was nothing particularly festive about it - it had no character to it. It was a pretty sad-looking tree.
Dorothy opened her mouth to respond, but Mallory's voice from the kitchen cut her off.
"Callum, did you even eat dinner last night?"
"Yes!" he said defensively.
"What exactly did you eat? The only fresh dishes I see are this glass and a bowl with a few leftover popcorn kernels."
Everything was quiet for a few seconds. Mallory walked out of the kitchen, and raised an eyebrow at the wallaby with the giant glass bowl in her paws.
"Callum, did you have popcorn for Christmas dinner?"
"Uh... yes?"
She groaned in exasperation, then glanced over at Dorothy. "Talk some sense into him while I raid his fridge." The squirrel turned her attention back to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and pulling out some ingredients. "At least your kitchen is well-stocked," she muttered. Dorothy rolled her eyes before turning her gaze over to Callum.
"Okay. So... for Christmas Eve, you got drunk and ate popcorn."
Callum crossed his arms. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."
"If it's what you wanted to do? Sure. But, did you want to spend Christmas Eve getting drunk and eating popcorn alone?"
Callum was very quiet after that. He kept his arms crossed, but this time he didn't meet her gaze. At length, he muttered just loud enough for her to hear, "No."
He couldn't see her expression. Her voice was much softer when she spoke next. "Okay. So... then why didn't you come visit?"
That caught Callum enough by surprise that he looked up at her. The kangaroo's expression was questioning, but gentle. He had to work up the effort to reply. "Well... I... wasn't invited."
She nodded, then inclined her head. "Okay. I'll be honest - we didn't reach out because we just assumed that you were the person Berty was bringing home with him. Otherwise, we would have."
"Right." He was looking down again, not trusting himself to meet her gaze and still keep his composure. The mention of Berty wasn't helping matters.
"So... going forward," she continued, "to make sure we don't run into this problem again, just assume the invitation's open." His ears twitched up at that. "Christmas or otherwise."
He finally looked up, and stared at her. She was sitting back, watching him.
At length, he cleared his throat, then managed to get out, "... Are you sure?"
Dorothy chuckled, the laughter sweeping away any leftover tension in the room. "Yeah, kiddo, we're sure."
"You're family, remember?" Mallory piped up, bringing over a bowl of food that smelled so much better than anything Callum had eaten in the last couple of weeks. There was fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, and some whole wheat toast she had somehow found somewhere. "Just because you no longer live with our idiot son doesn't mean you're not welcome."
Dorothy let that hang in the air for a few more seconds, before she sat up straight and hefted the sack at her feet. "Besides. It'll save Mal and I from having to make last minute 'cross-border gift runs."
Callum blinked again, and stared at the bag. His heart and his head were having trouble keeping up with each other. At length, he cleared his throat, and then reached up and rubbed at his eyes. When he trusted himself to speak again, he said, "You guys seriously flew all the way over here, just to do a present run?"
"We figure we can send the bill for the hit to our savings to Berty." Mallory's grin was somehow both innocent and wicked as Callum looked over at her. "Seems fair, no?"
"Wait, you're not flying back home again tonight, are you?" He cast a glance around at his living room, which could probably have done with a vacuuming, as his brain did the mental gymnastics. "Sorry, uh... I'd invite you to stay over, but my apartment isn't exactly made for hosting company, and I think all of the guest suites are booked for the holidays." He continued, his mouth on autopilot as his brain was finally processing being social after a long, lonely night. "And besides, I guess even if you could stay, I'd hate to make you suddenly close for the Boxing Day rush."
Mallory opened her mouth to snap at him to stop worrying so much, but ended up just glaring at him. She shook her head. "You and that stupid little devil..."
"Time for presents!" Dorothy piped up, interrupting her wife's oncoming tirade. She started pulling out gifts from the bag, and Callum's eyes widened.
"I'm sorry, I didn't get you guys anything. I- I've been kinda-"
"It's okay, kid. We set aside a couple of gifts to open with you. There's plenty enough here for everyone."
He glanced over at his small tree, and then muttered, "Um... Maybe too much? I don't know if there's enough real estate under the tree for that whole bag to fit."
"Ehn, we'll make it work."
Christmas Day, 2019
Callum sat quietly in the kitchen, staring out the window as snow covered the street outside. Two years ago, the prospect of sitting alone in Berty's house on Christmas Day had terrified the wallaby. Now he was thankful for the respite.
Some of the kitchen staff had called out the night before: it meant that Mallory had to depend on Berty and Callum to help fill in the gaps during Christmas Eve service. The wallaby really didn't mind. Both he and Berty had occasionally worked at the restaurant during their summers whenever they were short-staffed, so Callum had even half-expected it when his roommate warned him that the restaurant would be open that year on Christmas Eve. What it meant, however, was that their own personal celebration hadn't started until almost midnight, and some of the Christmas Eve traditions had to be squeezed in the following day, while still also allowing Mallory enough time to get a jump on food prep for the inevitable rush the restaurant would see on Boxing Day.
Currently he could hear snippets of the heated discussion wafting up from the back staircase. He wasn't purposely eavesdropping, but the rest of the house was so quiet that he couldn't help but listen. Berty was pleading with Mallory to let him help her, switching between English and French whenever the argument suited one or the other. It wasn't going well.
"Come on, I have more kitchen experience than any of your chefs!"
"No, you don't. Also any kitchen hand with any experience knows to not talk back to their chef."
"But you always let Callum work in the kitchen, how come I can't? You always stick me at the front of the house, or tell me to mind my own business," Berty pleaded in French.
The wallaby felt a little guilty at that. Mallory did seem to have a strange aversion to letting his roommate work in her kitchen.
"First of all, Malin, you will not raise your voice in my kitchen. Secondly, Callum isn't my son, you are. And thirdly you nee-"
The floorboards creaked as Dorothy entered the kitchen, obscuring the ongoing argument. She smiled at Callum. "Mind if I join you?" Dorothy asked, in English.
"Of course not, it's your kitchen," Callum quipped as the larger marsupial brought over the coffee pot and another mug. The two sat in silence for a moment as the discussion continued below, but had moved far enough away from the stairs that all they could hear were muffled tones. Dorothy was the one to speak first.
"Your team is doing well this year. All that hard work you guys have been putting in is finally paying off. Berty mentioned that you even have a shot at making the FCAA tournament this year?"
"Yeah! I mean, it's a little too early to tell about the tournament, but it's been a really great year so far. Pretty much everyone from last year's team returned, and we've been tearing it up on the court. Berty's been a fantastic captain this year," the wallaby commented.
"It seems to me he's got a great co-captain helping him out too," Dorothy mused, stirring her coffee. "Don't sell your own accomplishments short, kiddo. He tells me you make a pretty fine floor general."
Callum blushed at the compliment. "Thanks."
Dorothy laughed. "You're always so serious in private. You're allowed to smile every once in a while, you know. Or do you save all that attitude and bravado for the court?" Callum opened his mouth to protest, but then realized she was teasing him. It turned into a shy smile.
"Well, that's a start. You should know by now that you can be yourself around here. I suspect that's somewhere in between 'Co-Captain of a Division One FCAA Basketball Team' and 'Too Shy to Accept a Compliment.'"
She was glad to see Callum relax a little, as he sunk back into his chair with an actual smile, although it slowly faded as he slid back into his own private thoughts. His ears wiggled, a sign that Dorothy had started to realize meant he was considering her words.
From downstairs, the argument had drifted back within earshot.
"...I don't know why it's such a big deal, you're not even open today. It's just a kitchen, why does it matter when there aren't even customers to serve."
"My only son, heart of my hearts, soul of my soul, should know better than to insult this sacred space. How dare you, you little devil, I know I taught you better than that-"
Dorothy smiled apologetically as she remembered that Callum also spoke French, and could understand their whole conversation.
"I'm sorry that they're arguing on Christmas Day. I promise, it's the way they show their love. It almost seems like tradition for them to do this. I'm sad to say last year was kind of the exception to the rule."
Callum chuckled. "It's okay. I know how stubborn Berty can get sometimes. I'm not proud to say that I'm the only one I know who can give him a run for his money in that way. Well, excluding family." He meant it as a joke to lighten the tension, and Dorothy took it in stride, but Callum got quiet again, his ears twitching once more. "Anyway," he eventually said, although his voice was much softer, reflective. "I'd rather be here on Christmas than anywhere else in the world. And I've spent quite a few Christmases all across the world."
Mallory might have interrupted at that point to ask for more information, but Dorothy knew it was better to wait: it was an opening statement to something more, and she wanted to hear what the wallaby had to say. Like her son, Dorothy had learned that letting Callum come to her in his own time was better than pushing him to immediately continue. A minute or two passed, as the two marsupials drank their coffee. At last, the wallaby broke the silence.
"Thank you," Callum said, looking back at Dorothy from the window. His eyes were wet.
"For what, kiddo?" The kangaroo glanced over, letting him have the floor.
"For this, for having me, for like... all of this. I... I had everything growing up. We had a huge house, plenty of money, I had so many toys, anything I could have asked for. Except I was never really allowed to play with them the way I wanted to unless my parents were away on business. Not that I really saw much of them anyways.
"My mother only really spent enough time with me to show me off to all of her garden club friends. I was her Little Doll. That's what she called me, half the time I was convinced that she only knew my name whenever I was in trouble. I grew to hate dresses, being made up, having to perform in front of people, sometimes literally, but more often having to just behave and be doted on. Expected to have no personality except to be my mother's perfect Little Doll.
"I saw even less of my father. He only interacted with me if I had done something truly wrong. Usually it was something that brought embarrassment upon our family. I got the feeling that he didn't even want children at all. Or, really, I think he was secretly hoping for a boy. But after what a 'disaster' his daughter turned out to be, he didn't want to invest in the energy of having another child, especially if they turn out to be another girl like me."
Callum's voice broke a little, as he considered his next words. His ears twitched again. Dorothy had to relax her grip on the mug. She could see where the story was going already, but she let him tell it, and she struggled to curb her anger at what she was certain she would hear next, especially given the few small pieces she already knew about the wallaby's past. She smiled softly again, as a sign that it was safe to continue.
"When I was old enough, my father sent me away to boarding school. I thought maybe this would be a chance to finally be free from being a Doll, from having to perform constantly and never being myself. I didn't know that they were just putting me into a different type of dollhouse.
"I'm sure that Berty has told you I've been to many boarding schools. I don't really like to talk about it, so I don't think that even he knows just how many times I've moved. Until I got to 'Oscar Pendleton in Duane Lake, New York,' I had been kicked out of 13 other boarding schools before then. But none of them had an actual basketball program, and they were one of the best in the United States. I really, honestly think my parents were just shocked that there was a place I actually wanted to go, even if it was at the bottom of their 'acceptable wealth influence threshold' or something like that.
"I only really saw my parents in between switching from academy to academy, when they were forced to take me in. Of course, by then, my mother hid me away so she could pretend that I was happy somewhere else, and my father just didn't want anything to do with me. The first couple of years, they flew me back home for summer, but that only lasted so long.
"I used to have to make up excuses to the other children as to why I wasn't going home during break. 'Mum and Da are on business, but they'll come by in a few days,' or 'Mother and Father have a trip planned for all of us later this year, so they wanted to save on airfare,' were some of the more common ones, but really, I never lasted long enough anywhere for anyone to really question it."
Callum finished off the last of his mug of coffee. Dorothy waited for him to continue, but she also knew the wallaby well enough to know he was starting to get uncomfortable talking about himself for so long. Her suspicions were confirmed when he simply ended his reverie by saying, "Anyway, I never really got to experience a real Christmas until the first year you all invited me here. So... a little bit of arguing isn't going to ruin things for me. There's nothing for it to ruin."
The pair let silence fall among themselves for another moment. Callum considered his empty coffee cup thoughtfully. The argument downstairs seemed to have died down too. The only noise in the kitchen was the dull hum of the refrigerator, and the clicking of the radiator struggling to keep the house at a temperate environment. This time it was Dorothy who broke the silence.
"You know," she said, taking a sip of her coffee, getting close to the bottom of her own cup. "She didn't mean it."
Callum looked up and blinked at Dorothy, clearly not understanding the context of the statement. "Who didn't mean what?"
"What Mallory said to Berty, earlier. It wasn't true. You've grown to be just as much our son as he has." She finished her coffee before continuing, giving the wallaby some time to process. "We're both very glad you've chosen to let us into your life, and we are so very happy to have you in ours. You've been a great friend and roommate, not just because you keep our little devil in line, but you keep him in mind, and the two of you really look out for each other."
Dorothy chose her next words very carefully.
"I'm sorry that your biological family doesn't appreciate you for who you are. But I can tell you that we are very happy that you are a part of our family, and we are extremely proud of who you are, and the handsome young man you are growing to be.
"You and Berty have both really blossomed in the last few years. It's been wonderful to watch. I am sorry that your parents never got to see that, but it sounds like they probably wouldn't have appreciated the changes anyway. It takes more than blood to make family. Those two idiots downstairs are proof of that.
"I may have given birth to that little devil, but there are definitely some days, like today, when he is much more Mallory's son than he is my own. And some days, he and I connect in ways that my wife just shakes her head at because she doesn't quite understand, not for lack of trying. And she and I have noticed that you can get through to him sometimes when we have both exhausted all of our resources. That's just how family is. We look out for each other."
Callum's ears twitched for a moment, and then he unexpectedly leaned forward and embraced Dorothy in a hug. She smiled and held him close for as long as he needed.
"I'm so happy that I get the chance to look out for you, Kiddo," she reiterated, softly. Before the wallaby could respond, the door to the back stairwell opened and Mallory stomped in, carrying a half-basted turkey to finish cooking in the upstairs kitchen. There was a scowl on her face, but it softened when she noticed Callum and Dorothy.
"I hope I'm not interrupting, is everything alright?"
The marsupials broke the hug to greet the squirrel. Dorothy grinned and said, "Everything's great, we were just spilling some tea." That earned a snicker from Callum, but Mallory looked confused as she sniffed the air.
"Tea? I thought you two were drinking coffee?" the squirrel responded, shaking her head in exasperation. It took them a moment to register it, but the two marsupials glanced at each other and burst out laughing.
Christmas Day, 2020
It was quiet in the car as Mallory and Dorothy drove back to the airport. Dorothy was looking out the window. Her seat was pulled all the way back, but she still looked a bit cramped in the rental.
They were almost to the airport when Mallory let out a very long and loud sigh. "So. Our boys. Safe to say they're pretty messed up?"
Dorothy snorted. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it. Your talk about the boyfriend didn't fill you with much confidence?"
"That boy has no idea what he wants or needs." Mallory shrugged. "Mackie seems like a nice guy. From what you were saying, it seems like he at least knows how to read somebody. I'm going to be pissed if Berty treats him like every other guy, gets bored, and breaks his heart. What was your read on Callum?"
"Callum's every bit as much of a mess as he was when Berty first invited him for Christmas. Maybe even more."
Mallory nodded, and the two were quiet for a bit longer. They were pulling back into the rental company's parking lot when she spoke again. "Hey, this might be a good thing. At least it might push them to be a bit less... codependent?"
Dorothy let out a long breath. "It's not like you to be optimistic."
"They have to grow up some time."
"Right, right. I just wish they would... I dunno."
They pulled into a parking spot. Mallory pulled the key from the ignition, and reached over to rub Dorothy's shoulder. "I know. No matter how it goes, though, they're getting through it, yeah?"
"Yeah." Dorothy looked back over at the squirrel. She forced herself to nod. "Yeah."
Boxing Day, 2020
Berty was still looking down at his phone as he walked back over to Mackie. Fortunately, he was tall enough that most people seemed to be just naturally stepping around and avoiding him, because he wasn't paying much attention as he walked through the crowded airport.
"How did it go?" Mackie called over to the kangaroo. He was sitting by their bags, next to the gate for his flight to Boston. Berty's flight to Austin was later in the day, so that was where they had decided to wait the day out.
Berty finally glanced up, seeming to notice the shepherd for the first time. He slid his phone into his pocket, and forced a smile to his face. "He didn't answer. Probably too busy with whatever dreamboat dude he spent the night with," he responded, clearly trying to dismiss the situation.
Mackie gave Berty a look. "Really? Didn't you tell me he loves to answer 'in the middle of things' just to brag about whatever hot guy he was doing at the moment? I thought you said he always answers his phone for you?"
The kangaroo frowned. He wasn't used to having a boyfriend who actually engaged with other parts of his life. He looked back at the canine. "Yeah, I guess so. I wonder what he's up to."
Boxing Day, 2020
You are the dancing queen... Young and sweet, only seventee-- Beep!
"Who is it that keeps calling you? That's the third time they've called while we've been here. Is everything alright? I can let you go if you need to leave."
Callum glanced over at the kangaroo sitting across from him in the coffee shop. Tall, lean, a little mousey, short brown hair, nerdy-cute glasses, comfortable hooded sweatshirt. He had been browsing the cooking section of the bookstore where Callum was shopping for belated gifts that morning. Much to his surprise, the other marsupial said yes when the wallaby asked if he would like to get a cup of coffee.
Callum considered the kangaroo's question for a moment, figuring out the best way to answer it.
"I'm really sorry about that; it was no one important." He turned off his phone completely before slipping it back into his pocket. "So, why don't you tell me a little bit more about yourself?"