Promise Stars - 1. Promise Stars

November 24th

Max sat in his car, watching white flurries gliding down the windshield, melting into drops of water, only to freeze again on the cold metal. The lights of the streetlamps blurred as the snow came down harder and harder. He didn’t want to go outside, but when the cold crept up his legs, the dying snowflakes rapidly lost their fascination in favor of the promise of warmth at his apartment.

That and Aristoteles and Plato are probably wondering where the heck their can opener is.

Sighing, Max flipped up the collar of his pea coat, pulled a bright green scarf out of its pocket, and wrapped it around his neck several times. He grabbed a beanie and a pair of gloves from the passenger seat, put them on, and grimaced when he caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. He really wasn’t the hat wearing kind of guy; he always looked like a dork. For a moment he thought about pulling it off his head again, but then - with such weather - who would see him?

Max opened the door, put one foot outside and immediately flinched when his black loafer disappeared in a pile of cold slush. Grumbling, he vowed never ever again to believe the forecast, but only Mrs. Ridalsky. His eighty-two year old neighbor had warned him this morning that there would be a snowstorm coming and he better go back to his apartment and pull on winter boots before he ruined his good shoes.

She had been so right. His one and only pair of Italian leather loafers wouldn’t survive this. By the time he reached his apartment building they would be drenched in the salty mush, especially since he had to make at least two trips to get in all the stuff he’d bought.

Or I could get my boots from upstairs and then come back for the groceries.

He slammed the door shut, muttering some more expletives. Taking just a few steps, he could already feel the cold water squishing around in his shoes. “Crap! This is the season to have soggy socks, fa-la-la-la-la!”

The road was slippery and he barely managed not to fall on his butt on the way to the back of his car. He opened the trunk and groaned as he stared at the big box and the three bulging plastic bags full of groceries. “What was I thinking?” He really would have to go twice. At least.

“Hey, is there a problem? Can I help you?”

Max jumped and promptly hit his head on the trunk lid. “Ouch! Crap!” Rubbing the sore spot at the back of his head, he could already feel a bump forming. With his heart still thumping in his throat, he turned around and then took a step back when he saw a tall figure looming behind him.

Seeing this, the man lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw you staring into your trunk as if you needed some help with carrying something.” He then held his hand out. “I’m Loxis Triceli. I live right over there.” He pointed at the warehouse-turned-loft directly beside Max’s apartment building.

Of course Max remembered that name. Mrs. Ridalsky had told him all about the handsome single artist who had moved in beside them two months ago.

Even wearing a bobble hat, the man doesn’t look as ridiculous as I do wearing a beanie.

Max couldn’t feel his toes anymore. “I put on the wrong shoes this morning.”

Could he be any more stupid?

Loxis Triceli, who, according to Mrs. Ridalsky, was becoming well-known, worked with wood and steel, and recently had an installation in the entrance hall of the new arts museum, stood beside him and looked at the chaos that was his trunk. Max couldn’t believe it.

“I guess I bought too much to get it inside in one go.”

Really, Captain Obvious? Not only do I look like a dork, I talk like one too.

Max really wished he’d met Lox under better circumstances, but Lox didn’t seem to mind. “What about I help you with the box and one bag, and you get the other two? This way you have a hand free to close the lid, open the front door, and press the button for the elevator.”

“That would be great. Thank you.” Max couldn’t believe his luck.

Lox lifted the box out of the trunk as if it weighed nothing. Then he grabbed the handle of a plastic bag, stepped back, and waited for Max to get the other two out and close the lid.

They trudged to the entrance together. Or better put, Max slipped and slid, barely managing to stay on his two feet, while Lox walked beside him as if there was no such thing as icy slush.

He’s definitely wearing the right shoes.

This was not the impression he wanted to make if he’d ever thought about meeting the man in person. Max pushed at the door, then held it open, waiting for Lox to pass. Luckily the elevator was already there.

And of course, like always when he was nervous, Max felt the need to fill the silence. “They had an apartment on the second floor also, but I liked the view from the third floor better.”

Way to go, Max. Now Lox would ask him about the view, and he couldn’t very well tell the man that if Max stood on a ladder, he could watch Lox bare-chested working out on his treadmill. He had discovered this by accident, when the window in the bathroom had been jammed and Max had to climb up the ladder to oil the hinges before he could pull it closed. He had only done it once, still… And Max had bought the apartment because of the view. He could see the sun set over the lake from his living room window. It was spectacular. He would tell him that. If Lox asked, that was. Even though he liked the other view more.

The elevator dinged. They had reached the third floor. As soon as they entered the hallway, they could hear loud meowing from behind one of the doors. “That’s Aristoteles. He always knows when it’s me coming down the hall.”

Lox already stood beside the right apartment door. “Cats have very fine hearing.”

“My neighbor, Mrs. Ridalsky, told me he starts meowing as soon as I park the car.” Max shouldered the door open and immediately a large cat with red and white stripes rubbed himself against his legs, purring loudly. But then he saw Lox and arched his back with puffy tail and all, and put himself between Max and the artist protectively.

“Come on Toto, calm down. This is Loxis. You should be thankful instead of growling at him; he helped me carry all your food in.” Max slowly pushed the reluctant cat aside with his foot, so Lox could enter the apartment. “Follow me please. Most of the stuff is for baking. It’s tradition in my family to have a large plate overflowing with cookies on the coffee table on Christmas Day. In the past, my mother started baking way before Christmas in order to have enough to last the whole day even though we’re a big family. She was always on the hunt for new recipes to surprise us. Now that my siblings and I have our own lives, she insists that it’s our job to provide a large cookie variety. Last year my sister claimed she didn’t have time for this, so I offered to make her batch too. This year my brother said he wouldn’t have the time either… Now I’m stuck with looking up new recipes on the internet and baking tons of cookies after work.”

“Does your mother know about this?” Lox unloaded the box and the bag on the kitchen table.

“No. Melissa and Marvin will pick me up before we visit my parents on Christmas Day. I’ll give them their boxes with cookies and they pretend they made them.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, yes, I know. You don’t need to say it. I already told them, this year is the last year I’m doing this for them. They can bake their own cookies, buy them, or tell Mom next year.”

“Oh, who is that?” Lox stood rigid and looked at one corner of the kitchen.

On top of the refrigerator sat a black and grey Maine Coon cat, calmly watching Lox’s every move with large green eyes. “That’s Plato. He is the absolute opposite of Toto and with that I don’t mean their fur color. Toto is loud and demanding. I have to watch him all the time so he doesn’t sneak out through a cracked window or an open door. Plato would never do that. He is a very organized stay-at-home cat and even has his daily routine. At night he sleeps on his pillow in the bed. During the day he watches the street from his place on the windowsill, later he will always move to the refrigerator, waiting for me to come home and open his can. Afterwards, he’ll relax on the sofa.”

Usually Max never talked that much, and to a stranger no less, but he just couldn’t help it. “Can I make you something warm? Tea? Coffee?” At least he remembered his manners.

“No thank you. I need to check on some things at my apartment, so I better go home now.” Then Lox grinned. “I wouldn’t say no to becoming your cookie test-eater though.”

On his way out Lox bent down to pet Aristoteles, whispered some words into his fuzzy ears, waved, and then he was gone.

Standing at the apartment door Max watched Lox skipping down the stairs. He should have asked him for the name of his favorite cookies. And he would make sure not to wear a hat when he gave them to him.

***

Back at his apartment, Lox hurried to the back and unlatched the cat door. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Aristoteles prowled through his living room as if he belonged there and jumped on the coffee table. The large red and white striped Maine Coon watched Lox intently. Finally he said, “What do you want from Max, witch?”

Lox crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I really prefer warlock. Cat.”

“So you really are a witch.”

“Warlock.”

“Warlock. Whatever.” Could cats roll their eyes? “Your shields are very effective, I almost didn’t notice.”

Lox tried to assess the cat’s intentions. He needed an ally if he was going to pull this off. If he wanted to pull this off, that was. The cat looked interested, curious, and definitely not as stand-offish as he had when they first met. Decision made, he blurted out, “Max is my Other.”

Aristoteles perked up. “Which kind of Other?”

“You know very well that I can’t tell until I bond with him.”

“So you really don’t know if he’s the one who nulls your powers or the one who doubles them? I always thought that was just a rumor.”

“I wish, but no.” Lox couldn’t sit on the couch any longer. “Can I get you something? I don’t know - milk?”

“No thank you.” The cat’s gaze followed Lox to the large bay window, where he seemed to watch the snow hiding the world under a white veil. “Did you know that Max was one of your Others when you moved here?”

His back still to the cat, Lox answered, “Yes. I had an alert set up. I knew when a person who is my Other was born, although I didn’t exactly know who he was, until I saw him tonight. When I first moved here, I actually thought the woman living in the apartment on the first floor was my Other.”

“Would you have preferred it to be a woman?”

“I didn’t have any preferences until I talked to him. Now I do.” Lox watched his breath fogging the window. It was getting colder outside.

“We won’t allow you to harm him.”

“We?”

“Plato and I. There are rules. You have to explain everything to Max, before you bond with him. He must be given the chance to say no. And if he is the Other who destroys your powers, we will protect him from you if we must.”

“I have a fifty percent chance of losing my powers. I won’t take this lightly. I am not sure that I will do anything at all. If I do I will follow the law, you don’t need to remind me.”

“And you have a fifty percent chance to double your powers. Right now, we won’t allow you to bond with him anyway. You’re not ready.”

Lox scoffed. “You think you could prevent my bonding with Max?”

“Believe me, we can.” The cat looked smug.

“I could kill you.”

“I don’t believe so. We’re guardians, Loxis Triceli. We’re immune against your magic, as impressive as it may be.” He watched Lox pacing. “You’re not the type to try this anyway.”

“Hmmm…”

“So, do you have a plan?”

After pacing some more Lox sat down on the sofa again, raking his fingers through his black hair. “I have to get to know him better to be able to make a decision of this gravity.”

“I agree. You also need to get your priorities straight.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.”

Lox looked into his backyard. The branches of the pine trees were heavy with glistening snow. “Does Max like Christmas?”

“Oh yes, very much. This weekend he’ll get this ugly contraption out. He calls it a Christmas tree. It’s one of these plastic things that work like an umbrella. You open them and they’re ready to go, lights and all. He prefers real trees that make the whole apartment smell of pine, but – do you know the fairy tale ‘The Fir Tree’ by Hans Christian Andersen? He always hated it and thinks it is sad to kill an entire tree just to have a real Christmas tree standing in the house for a few weeks.”

“He could always buy one of those potted trees.”

“Yes, he would like that, but what would he do with it after the holidays? He doesn’t have anywhere to plant it.”

“I know what I’ll do and you have to help me. Listen…”

November 27th

After coming home from work, Max would usually chat with Mrs. Ridalsky, take her grocery list, feed the cats, eat something, and then bake or look up new recipes on the Internet. Later he’d watch a Christmassy movie or read a holidays-related book. Max loved the time before Christmas. The only thing that really annoyed him this year was Aristoteles. The cat managed to escape every evening for a few minutes, despite everything Max had tried. It had started the evening Lox helped him with the groceries. Coming back into the kitchen after Lox had left, the window had been cracked open and the cat had disappeared. Just when he was about to get his coat and go out looking for him, he heard him scratching at the windowpane.

“You! What are you doing out in the freezing cold, you silly cat. Hunting snow mice?”

Without acknowledging Max, the cat had shaken the snow out of his fur, jumped down from the windowsill and gone to Plato, who was sleeping in his usual place on the sofa. They’d butted heads and then it almost looked like they were talking to each other.

Weird.

November 30th

Sunday morning Max found a large potted pine tree on his doorstep, complete with a roller board so he could maneuver it easily around the apartment without hurting his back. When he looked up and down the hallway, it was empty.

He searched between the branches until he found an envelope attached to a blue velvet pouch. When he opened it, he found a large glass star. It seemed to be hand-blown and was obviously meant to go on top of the tree. The simple card said: For Max.

So this is not a misunderstanding. The tree really is for me. Wow!

Max happily rolled the tree into his living room in front of the large bay window, got a chair and mounted the glass star. It looked beautiful, albeit a bit bare. He took in a deep breath. The whole apartment smelled of pine. Max grinned. All of a sudden he was looking forward to buying Christmas decorations for his tree. Yay!

December 1st

Max looked at the gingersnap cookies. “You turned out extremely well, if I do say so myself.” Dipping the corners in dark chocolate had been a really good idea. “What do you think, Toto? Should I go over to Lox and take him a plateful?”

He said he wanted to be my cookie taster. Right?

The cat looked back at him as if he wanted to say, ‘What are you waiting for?’ So Max arranged a dozen of the nicest ones on a silver tray, put his coat on, minus the dorky hat, and went over to Lox’s apartment. With a trembling hand, he rang the bell.

It took some time before Lox opened the door. When he finally did, Max almost swallowed his tongue at the sight before him. Wearing a heavy leather apron over a black t-shirt and jeans, Lox held the door open with a hand still in a leather glove. A welding shield flipped back on unruly black curls, he scowled at Max while he wiped his sweaty forehead with a bandana.

“Hey, uh-m s-sorry if I had known you were working I—”Max waved with his hand. “You said you wanted to taste the cookies and I—”

Lox’s face immediately brightened at seeing who stood on his doorstep. “Max! Come in! Don’t worry. It’s just…the piece I’m working on isn’t cooperating with my ideas. A break might actually help with that problem. And didn’t you mention the magic word ‘cookies’?”

Relieved, Max followed Lox into the kitchen. “Do you mind making some tea while I’m cleaning up a bit? Mugs are on the board over the kettle.”

“Sure, no problem. Can I see your workshop later?”

“Of course.”

That afternoon Max found out he liked sharing his cookie experiments with Lox much more than giving them to his lazy siblings, so he called them and told them exactly that. As expected, they were furious and called him all kinds of names, but for the first time in his life, Max didn’t care.

December 9th

Lox leaned against the banister on the third floor of the arts museum and watched his installation slowly moving with the unique airflow the glass dome of the entrance hall produced, when he saw Max entering through the door. The man’s eyes immediately went up to the ceiling, and Lox quickly hid behind a stand filled with brochures. Max circled the entire hall, his gaze never leaving the gigantic mobile-like structure.

Did he come here during his lunch break just to look at my work? For whatever reason this thought made Lox feel ridiculously warm and happy.

December 12th

Aristoteles still somehow managed to get out of the apartment every evening, but since December the first, he’d always come back wearing a blue velvet pouch around his neck. Inside Max found a different hand-blown glass star fitted with a blue velvet band, ready to hang on the Christmas tree.

Today Max watched the cat, intent to finally find out where he went and who gave him the beautiful ornaments, but again he wasn’t able to catch him. Seeing how his little tree was becoming more and more festive with each new star he got, Max knew they had to come from the same person who had given him the tree. The problem was he was beginning to feel bad each time he hung a new star on his tree. He was attracted to Lox, and Lox seemed to be into him also. Max felt as if he was leading the other person on. One time he had hoped that maybe Lox was this person, but when he told Lox about the beautiful gifts he got, Lox seemed genuinely surprised. Nothing ever hinted that the artist knew anything about it.

December 14th

Max was once again browsing through some cooking sites on the Internet looking for new recipes, when Lox called him. “Do you want to meet me at the Christmas market? I’m in the mood for sampling some mulled wine.”

“Oh yes, and roasted chestnuts.” Max closed the laptop. “Wonderful idea. I’m starving and I love the food at the Christmas market.”

In the end, they shared a baked potato with cream, a tarte flambé, sautéed mushrooms and waffles. When Lox persuaded Max to ride on a carousel with him and didn’t let go of his hand afterwards, Max was perfectly fine with it. The same went for the goodbye kiss he got. Scorching!

Later that night, Lox was in his workshop sketching the next glass star he wanted to make for Max. He couldn’t deny the growing feelings he had for Max and he knew if he still wanted to get out of this, it needed to be soon. He was falling for his Other. Hard.

December 17th

Lox was helping Max with baking. He had never known how much fun he could have doing such a simple thing. The cookie tasting afterwards took place on the couch, while they were watching ‘Love Actually’ and cuddling together. It was the best Christmas time Lox had ever had.

12/2/2014

December 19th

Max returned the favor by decorating one of the pine trees in Lox’s backyard with hundreds of lights. He almost fell off the ladder because he put it over a hole in the ground, but somehow the thing suddenly stood upright again. It was almost magical. From then on Max wasn’t allowed on the ladder again. His protests were quickly stifled by lots of kisses.

December 22nd

Lox once again put a glass star into a blue velvet pouch when Aristoteles asked him, “And? Do you know what you want to do yet? Will you tell him who you are and ask him to bond with you or are you going to send him away?”

The thought of not being with Max, of being away from him, never seeing him again – the hurt was unexpectedly intense and Lox realized losing Max was much worse than losing his powers. When did that happen?

Could cats grin?

December 24th

Lox knocked on Max’s door. God, he was so nervous and knowing that Aristoteles was standing on the other side, being absolutely silent, didn’t help. He could practically hear him in his head. ‘Don’t mess this up.’

“Really, Toto? You’re a watchdog now? Would you step aside please and let me open the door for Lox?”

Lox heard the snick of the lock, and his heart skipped a beat. There he was. His Max. Smiling at him until his gaze fell on the blue velvet pouch in Lox’s hand. His eyes widened and then Lox suddenly had an armful of Max. “Thank God!” With his arms firmly around him, he whispered against Lox’s neck, “I’m so glad it was you. I felt so bad accepting those wonderful gifts as they were clearly tokens of love and I could never love the person back because--” He took in a sharp breath and then wiggled out of Lox’s arms. “May I?” Taking the pouch from Lox’s hands, he opened it and pulled out the 24th glass star. “They are hand-blown. Right?” He tilted his head to the right. “Did you make them by any chance?”

“I did. I experimented with glass for a while.” Lox pointed at the star in Max’s hand. “These are the first objects I ever finished though and not just melted down again.”

“They are so beautiful. Come on, let’s hang it on the tree like the others.” He took Lox’s hand and led him into the living room. “Where should I put it?”

“Wherever you want.”

Max stretched and carefully attached the last star. As soon as he let go, like a chain-reaction, one by one, all of the 24 stars ignited, and then glowed with an inner light. Max gasped. “Oh my God! How did you do this?” He turned around. “There is no electricity, no cable! It’s magic!”

Lox took Max’s hand and guided him to the couch. “Max, I have to tell you something.”

And Lox explained to him what he was. And who Max was to him.

“I-I can’t believe this. You’re a warlock? I mean, you can conjure things?”

“Yes.”

Max narrowed his eyes at him. “Show me!”

Lox frowned, then his gaze fell on the Christmas tree and he started to grin. Without doing any wild gestures with his hands or murmuring ancient words, it started to snow. In the middle of Max’s living room. And only on the tree and the snow never reached the hardwood floor nor did it melt.

Max jumped from the sofa. “Oh my God! You really are a sorcerer.”

Lox rolled his eyes. “A warlock.”

Max waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever. And you’re saying you don’t care if I am the Other who nulls your powers?”

Lox took Max’s hands in his. “That’s right.”

“Isn’t there a way for us to know this before the bonding?”

“No there is not, and now I finally understand why. It’s about priorities. About what we value the most in our life.”

At that very moment Aristoteles came in. Could cats look like proud fathers?

Max knew he loved Lox. But he still asked for one night to think everything over. Deep in his heart, he already knew the answer; still he wanted to be entirely sure.

December 25th

Lox picked up Max. They drove together to Max’s parents, the car loaded with presents and boxes with cookies. It was the first time Max had brought someone over for Christmas.

Later that night, when they were home again, Max said yes.

***

Their bonding took place on New Year’s Eve. It was a beautiful ceremony.