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    Brayon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

My Christmas Joy - 2. Dinner at Grandmother's House

The long awaited, and promised 2nd Chapter. Enjoy.

We pulled up to my grandparent’s house just after 6:30 pm. Dean and I sat in the car, with him holding my hand as I looked at the front door from the road. So many happy memories brought tears to my eyes, along with the pain of the last three years. The house was an old one along the Hillsborough River, sitting on a huge corner lot that may well have been an acre of land. Unheard of in the City, but it was built in the early 1920’s, and was marked as a historical landmark.

There were two buildings, the main house, and a detached garage that had a three bedroom apartment atop it. Landscaping was pristine, as my Grandmother always wanted it kept. The banyan tree in the backyard grew taller than the house. I spent many years climbing that tree, and remembered the sleepovers with the cousins in the garage apartment. It all flooded out in the form of tears.

“It’s ok, hun,” Dean said, as he gave my hand a squeeze. “When you’re ready, we’ll go up.”

“Thanks, babe,” I said, and leaned in to kiss my fiancé. He let go of my hand and grabbed a napkin he kept in the center counsel and wiped the tears from my face. I don’t know why he chose me, he’s so much better than I.

With the tears under control and no red puffy eyes, we stepped out of the car. Dean grabbed the bag of gifts, and we walked to the front door.

“I don’t know why I’m so damn nervous,” I said. My heart was racing.

“Relax, Alex. You’re here because your grandmother wants you to be. If anyone says anything, well fuck them! That’s their issue, not yours.” Dean put his arm around me and held me close.

I pressed the doorbell when we got to door. It was only a couple minutes before we were escorted inside by my cousin Jace, who announced that Dean and I had arrived. We made our way through the house, which had been decorated in festive fashion. Each room was dressed in a different Christmas theme, which was my Grandmother’s handiwork. She always did that for the holidays. Smells of the dinner cooking in the kitchen filled the air, along with other scents from candles, evoking visions of the Holidays.

The Christmas tree was in the den, a Douglas fir, decorated in white lights. A smile crossed my face as I saw the tree, and how similar it looked to mine at my apartment. Dean dropped the bag of presents off in the den, while I was assaulted with hugs, and kisses from my Mother, Grandmother, and several of the cousins. To my surprise, my notoriously homophobic Uncle shook my hand and clapped me on the shoulder.

Dean didn’t get away unassaulted either. After I introduced him to my Grandmother, she enveloped him in a hug, which said ‘welcome to the family,’ and planted a huge kiss on his cheek.

Dinner came and went, with small talk and questions. My Uncle took me aside and apologized for his behavior towards me. I accepted his apology. Eventually, we all settled down in the den, and presents were given out. We’re a big family, so most of the time we would draw names for gifts. No one knew I was coming, so I wasn’t expecting anything for me. To my surprise, there were six gifts for me. Three from my Grandmother, who got me one each year I was gone, and one from Jace, my Mother, and my formerly homophobic uncle. I was surprised.

The gifts Dean bought, and the cards with the gift cards in them that I bought, were handed out to everyone, even the people that made my life Hell. We had brought them stuff as well.

“Hey, Alex,” my cousin Jace called, “What’s that on your hand?”

My heart started pounding as I looked around, all eyes turned to me. A lump grew in my throat, and I looked around at those gathered. Dean poked me in the ribs to get me to move, and say something. “It’s my engagement ring,” I said in a nervous and small voice. I extended my hand to show Jace a thick gold band with crystal clear diamonds and blue sapphires inlaid along the top.

“Wooh yeah. That is one nice ring!” Jace exclaimed in approval.

“Come here, let me see it,” my Grandmother said.

I stood up and felt Dean pat me on the shoulder, as I moved across the room to her. I held my hand out and noticed it was trembling. My Grandmother took my hand and looked the ring over, and nodded approvingly. “So, have you set a date yet?”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Good,” she said in a voice that didn’t give a hint to why it was good.

“Um…why?” I asked. My nerves were making me think my dinner would make an appearance soon.

“Well… I’m paying for it, so I’m going to need time to make the arrangements for you,” she said in a tone that was both final, and full of love. “I’m happy for you Alex. Dean, get over here and get him before he faints. We’ll work on details later. Your Mother and I will make sure you two are properly wed. Consider it another Christmas gift.”

Dean moved over and put his arm around me smiling, and helped me to the couch. The family broke out in praise, as everyone came over and wished us well, and wanted to see the ring.

For three years, I felt these people hated me. There were words said that I never thought would be able to be forgiven, on all sides. I was truly shocked by this Christmas’ turn of events. They say miracles do happen, and I was fortunate to have seen one with my own eyes.

 

The End

Thanks to Kitt for editing this story, and for her suggestions on possible further adventures with Alex, and Dean.
All mistakes are mine, and mine alone.
I hope you enjoyed, reading this Christmas Story.
Copyright © 2017 BHopper2; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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