An Advent Calendar - 22. Door#22 - The Yule Log

The Yule Log

The history of the Yule log cake stretches all the way back to Europe’s Iron Age, before the medieval era. Back then, Celtic Brits and Gaelic Europeans would gather to welcome the winter solstice at December’s end. People would feast to celebrate the days finally becoming longer, signaling the end of the winter season. To cleanse the air of the previous year’s events and to usher in the spring, families would burn logs decorated with holly, pinecones or ivy. Wine and salt were also often used to anoint the logs. Once burned, the log’s ashes were valuable treasures said to have medicinal benefits and to guard against evil.

http://www.history.com/news/hungry-history/the-delicious-history-of-the-yule-log

“Just come over and keep me company while I’m baking,” Rachel said. “The best thing you can do is get your mind off your troubles.”

Jamie wandered around his living room, trying to think of a reason not to go over to her house. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a good excuse. Since losing his job last week and Tom leaving two months ago, he could hardly claim being too busy. Besides, his mother was right. He kept obsessing over his string of bad luck over the past few months. Perhaps a couple of games of cards and his mother spoiling him a little would improve his holiday mood. Christmas was only a week away and he felt his inner Grinch could not be suppressed for much longer.

“I guess. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way?”

“Nope. I’ve got all the stuff I need. Oh, wait,” Rachel said breathlessly. Jamie heard her march across the linoleum floor, her large, floppy slippers making a tell-tale slapping sound. “Heavens to Betsy, I don’t have any heavy cream. Can you pick up some on the way here?”

“Sure mom,” Jamie said, grinning to himself. He imagined her frantically searching through the fridge in a panic. “Relax, okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Rachel answered and hung up on him.

Driving to Shelly’s Red Owl Grocery and Bowling Alley, Jamie took stock of his life. Sure, Tom had left him saying he, ‘needed some space,’ but that didn’t mean the relationship was over. He and the blond-haired man with two days of scruff on his cheeks at all times, were meant to be. As he turned into the parking lot, he smiled when he thought of Tom’s lopsided smile and ‘aw shucks’ mannerisms.

Whistling ‘Angels We Have Heard on High’ as he walked into the store, Jamie walked right by Tom’s SUV in the parking lot without noticing it. If he had, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so shocked.

Jamie grabbed a basket and sauntered down to the dairy aisle. The store was gaily decorated in swags of green and red ribbons with gold trim. He was starting to feel better about his life. ‘Enjoy the time away from work and find a new job after the New Year’, he thought. This sentiment felt right.

Then he rounded the corner and saw them. Tom, his Tom, was standing at the milk cooler dressed in leather pants and with a chain around his neck. Hanging from the ends of the chain was a large padlock. Tom also had a large red handkerchief hanging out of his right back pocket. Tom was looking adoringly at a larger man also dressed in leather with a large motorcycle hat perched high on his head and a burly, hairy arm circling Tom’s waist.

Jamie’s mouth fell open when he saw the larger man reach over and pet his partner, well former partner. The big guy also had the corner of a red piece of cloth poking out of his back left pocket. Without meaning to, Jamie barked, “Tom” out loud.

Both men turned away from the cooler and stared at him. Jamie felt a hot wave of sweat breakout all over his face and shoulders. Tom blinked and the big guy squinted and tilted his head. His eyes scanned Jamie so intensely he felt naked under the other man’s gaze.

“Jamie,” Tom answered waving for him to approach. “Good to see you. Buck, this is my ex, Jamie. Jamie, my new partner, Buck.”

Jamie walked toward them and felt his mood sour and curdle.

The large man scowled at Tom whose face turned pink immediately. “I’m sorry, this is my Master, Buck.” Jamie could almost hear the capital M as his ex said the word.

The big leatherman nodded and stuck out a hand. The large paw enveloped Jamie’s hand and his grip was tight. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said softly. “Tom, can we talk for a minute?”

Tom started toward him, then stopped and looked up at Buck. After a second of looking into his eyes, the leatherman nodded slowly and added, “You have two minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom said.

Jamie thought he was about to throw up.

***

“You know, Tom sort of did you a favor.” Rachel was sitting across the dining room table from Jamie, a mug of hot cider in her hand. “You’re a lot like me, a person who would have done anything to save the relationship. Tom probably did the right thing by leaving you like he did.”

Jamie wanted to argue. He wanted to tell his mother she was wrong. But, her point was accurate. He would have tried to save the relationship. He would have attempted to accommodate Tom’s kinks. As miserable as it would have made him, Jamie would have tried. Finally, he nodded silently agreeing with his mother’s point.

“Besides, I don’t see you as a ‘spanky, spanky, bad boy’ type of guy.”

“No,” Jamie agreed with a snort. “I’m not really a Master/slave kind of person.”

“Tom really had a chain around his neck and asked permission to talk to you?”

Jamie smiled. “Yeah, he said he’s always felt this way, but could never tell anyone. He said it was like a second coming out for him.”

“Tom was always so bossy towards you,” Rachel covered her mouth with her hand and whispered, “I looked up the handkerchief thing when you were in the bathroom. How does that work? How can you get a hand up—“

“Mom, please let’s not talk about Tom’s sex life now.”

“No dear, that would be a little disconcerting for you.”

Jamie took a sip of his drink. It was spicy, hot, and a bit tart. It was the opposite of how he felt, which was numb, chilled, and bitter. The bizarre episode with his ex and Tom’s new ‘master’ in the grocery store had left him depressed and a bit lost. Everything in his life had been on a downward spiral.

“Things will get better,” his mother said patting his hand. “Let’s play a couple of hands, okay?”

Jamie nodded as she got up from the table and went to the bureau. Playing a few hands of cribbage was their way of coping with things. While they counted out points and moved the little pegs around the board, they would chat. For both of them, it was a way to distract and yet deal with problems. After his mother and father divorced, they’d spent hours playing cribbage and making sense of David’s leaving. Jamie finally accepted the idea it wasn’t his fault his father had moved to Seattle and married another woman. His mother had discovered the marriage had been dead for some time before her husband fell in love with another woman and got her pregnant.

Cribbage was their anti-depressant.

***

The afternoon sun was turning reddish and glowed through the dining room window bringing in the soft final December kisses of fleeting color. The afternoon had slipped past them as they played cards and talked quietly. Forgotten was the cake baking in the kitchen a few steps away.

“Fifteen for twelve,” Rachel said, fanning her cards down on the table top. “I’m going to skunk you this time.”

Jamie felt a growl in his throat. Sure enough, she had enough points to leave his peg back around the bend on the cribbage board. Next hand, she’d count her points first, and he would be ‘skunked’ and lose. He didn’t really mind. He had lost a couple of games, but most of the afternoon he’d been a winner. Well, at cards he’d been a winner. The young man was still feeling a bit fragile from his shock earlier.

Jamie smiled at his mother who beamed back at him in delight. As he moved his green peg four notches, he noticed the air by the window was a bit hazy. The golden light gleaming from the late afternoon sunlight was becoming murky. He breathed in and the harsh, startling smell of smoke made him grimace.

“Mom, something’s burning,” Jamie said. “Do you have something in the oven?”

At first Rachel shook her head, but then her eyes bulged as she remembered. “Fibber McGee and Molly! I forgot all about it.”

She jumped from the chair and ran into the kitchen. As she went through the door, a haze of black smoke blew into the dining room. Jamie stood and saw the stove was smoldering and as his mother opened the oven door, a huge dark cloud billowed out.

“Poughkeepsie and Schlitz, what a disaster,” Rachel swore.

“What were you baking?”

Jamie watched as she pulled a jelly roll pan from the oven. It was black as coal and totally ruined.

“I was making a yule log for our church group tonight. We’re having a quick Bible study for Advent and I promised to bring a cake.” Rachel plopped the smoking tray into the sink. “Holy Shitake mushrooms, I think this pan is ruined as well.”

Jamie sighed as he got up and marched into the kitchen. He coughed as he opened a window and chilly air came pouring in. Some of the smoke began gushing out of the room as well. “Maybe you could pick something up on the way to the meeting?”

“Galloping gremlins, can you imagine what Priscilla would say if I brought a store-bought cake to the meeting? I’d be talked about for weeks.”

“Mom, why do you—“

“Don’t say it, Buster Brown. I have to think of something else. But what?”

Jamie wandered over to look at the burnt remains of the cake in the pan. It was mostly ashes at this point. He touched it lightly with one finger and the black soot puffed out at him. He coughed again in response.

“Maybe I can bake up an apple cake with a penuche frosting. I’ve got pecans in the freezer and a bag of Granny Smiths in the fridge.”

“Do you want some help?” Jamie asked.

“Sweet nibblets, you’re a life saver,” she answered. “Can you peel the apples?”

***

As Jamie drove towards his home, he felt an uncontrollable craving for wonton soup, filled with pork and mushrooms and steeped in chicken broth. Only one place had exactly what he craved, so he took a detour. McFarlane’s Chinese Garden and Video Store was a little off the beaten track; however they had the best wontons in the city. Jamie figured a quart of their soup would give him leftovers for the coming week. He pulled his coat tighter around him as he got out of his car and hustled into the storefront. It was bustling with customers.

There was a line to the front counter and so Jamie pulled out his phone to look at his emails. Before he opened that app, he noticed a missed call. Next to the icon was the symbol for a voicemail. He didn’t remember turning off his phone, but considering his mood earlier, perhaps he’d done so on autopilot. He thumbed the play message button and listened to it.

“Mr. Hanson, we’ve had a chance to look over your resume and we’re quite impressed. If you could give me a call at Trends and Rear Ends, I’d appreciate it. My name is Darren Nygaard and I can be reached at 1-800-Bad-Phat, with a PH. That’s 1-800-223-7428. Your physical therapy credentials are exactly what we’re looking for.”

After losing his job at the clinic, he’d wondered what path his life could take. He’d spent his whole life appreciating and specializing male physical anatomy. He’d never really considered working at a health club. Trends and Rear Ends was a high-end exclusive gym. This could be a dream job for him.

He saved the message and was suddenly hit from behind. Jamie smashed into the large man in front of him and he heard a “What the Freddy Mercury--?” as he fell to the floor.

Jamie looked up to see a large woman with two enormous purses and a suitcase had stumbled into him. She was clad in a long dress patterned with various beach cocktails and had on a black leather motorcycle coat. Her long black hair was done up in a bun and she was peering down at him. She frowned apologetically at him and mouthed, ‘sorry.’

Jamie then looked over to the man who was now also bending over him. He was strikingly handsome, built like an American Ninja and had the sweet smile of a Ryan Gosling. “Are you okay? Jessie’s Girl, you scared me.”

Jamie couldn’t help but grin as the man held out a hand to help him up. He took it, the beautiful beast pulled him up quickly and with such force, he found himself mashed up against the other man’s broad chest and flat stomach.

“Thank you,” Jamie squeaked, his lips only a few inches from the other man’s.

“Fucking A!” The other man gasped, and then quickly recovered. “Holy Shit! You’re beautiful.”

Jamie stepped back and brushed the front of his coat and shook his head. “Thanks. You are too.”

The other man again stuck out a hand. This time he said softly, “My name is Aaron. Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Jamie.”

The hulking presence beamed. Jamie reached out to shake the other man’s hand. He saw traces of black soot on the back of his wrist. He also saw his fingernails were caked with the remnants of his mother’s yule log. As he enjoyed Aaron’s firm handshake he wondered something. What had suddenly changed his luck? First a call on a job that would be perfect for him. Now a handsome stranger was openly staring and flirting with him.

Jamie never did find out what had changed his luck.

Or did he?