Page 17
“Oh cool, so I have no chance of winning,” Scotty jokes.
“We’ll share our tips, don’t worry,” Patrick promises, glancing Scotty’s way in the rearview mirror with a big smile before returning his focus to the road.
“You don’t have to post mine,” Scotty dismisses quickly. “I’m sure you guys don’t want questions about why there’s an extra one this year.”
“Fuck that,” I respond.
At the same time, Patrick says, “Of course we’ll post yours. Who cares if people question why there’s another one. Unless you don’t want us to?”
Scotty glances between us, his brows furrowed like he isn’t sure how to respond, but eventually he shrugs, sitting up a bit straighter. “If you’re sure. But I won’t be offended if you change your mind. I’ll probably assume you were blown away by how amazing mine is and need the excuse not to post it to avoid hurting your chances of winning.”
“Well now we have to post it so you can see me win fair and square,” Patrick insists with a laugh.
“Keep telling yourself that, babe,” I add. “I’m feeling pretty good about my idea this year.”
We pull into the town, and the main street does look like something straight out of a cheesy Christmas movie. Every tree and lamppost is strung up with lights, all of the shops with window displays have gone all out with their holiday decor, and there’s a big tree on display outside of the town hall with oversized ornaments. Snow has started to softly fall already, adding to the picturesque scene, but I know in a few hours everything will be completely blanketed in white.
“We’ll definitely have to come back to check out more of these shops,” I comment as we park in front of the candy store.
“For sure,” Patrick agrees. “There’s ice skating set up in the town square too if we want to do that eventually.”
“I’d love to,” I agree.
Scotty walks into the retro candy shop first and lets out an impressed whistle. “Wow, this place is amazing.”
There are endless displays of candy in clear plastic containers lining the walls, with metal scoops on the side. It looks like they make at least some of the candy from scratch, too. There’s a sign advertising a how-to demonstration this weekend on pulling and twisting candy canes by hand.
“Alright, we probably shouldn’t spend more than twenty minutes here, so don’t bother being too selective,” Patrick reminds us, then he turns to Scotty. “We normally don’t share during construction, so get anything you think you might want. Get some sugar-free hard candies too if you’d like me to show you how to make stained glass windows.”
“Stained glass windows in the gingerbread house?” Scotty repeats back as a question.
“I told you we take it very seriously,” I tease as I grab a basket and start filling it with prebagged candy.
Scotty nods as he grabs his own basket. “Okay, wow. Yeah, I’m definitely not winning, but I’ll give it my best attempt.”
Patrick is shopping along the outside walls, bagging his candy, and I can’t help but smile at how happy he is. The expression may be about a kid in a candy store, but I’d argue my husband is even more excited than that.
I glance over to where Scotty is now quickly adding handfuls of prepackaged candy canes and hard candies to his basket like he’s on a timed mission to purchase as much as he possibly can, and my smile grows even more. I love how effortlessly he fits in with us. He always has, but the way he’s embracing our admittedly silly tradition with enthusiasm is an excellent reminder of why we’ve always enjoyed spending time with him.
Scotty holds up a bag of sugar-free candies. “Patrick, is this right for the windows?”
Patrick takes the time to walk over to Scotty so he can read the package before confirming, and the simple interaction warms my heart. It’ll be fun to share our holiday traditions with him, and to see if he has any of his own that we can add to our list. Obviously Patrick and I were excited about the possibility of a week of sex with Scotty, and I’m thrilled with how quickly we jumped into that last night, but I know we both meant what we told him about just wanting him here regardless of that.
Scotty has always had a way of making things more fun, and even if he claims to have lost some of that spark, it’s definitely making an appearance as he jokes around with Patrick, pretending to swap their baskets after Patrick sets his down on the counter.
The saying “The more the merrier” has never felt more true to me than this trip. I’m so glad that Scotty is not only back in New York and our lives, but that he agreed to come with us. I already know it’ll be a Christmas we’ll never forget.
11
“You have something to make the dough look like bricks?” I repeat to Joey.
“Yeah, it’s an embossing tool, kind of like a stamp,” he explains as he shows me on his. “I got it after Patrick started adding the ‘stained glass’ windows because I wanted a leg-up, but then he got his own the next year and a bunch of different fancy window cookie cutters, so it didn’t help me for long.”
“I know you guys said it was competitive, but this is even more intense than I was picturing,” I admit as I take in the kitchen that’s quickly become covered in baking supplies. There’s Christmas music playing, snow falling outside, and it smells like gingerbread. I love it.
Joey and I are working on the large island. We each had to prepare our own batch of dough per their tradition’s rules, despite following the same recipe. Then we had to roll it out before freezing it for twenty minutes. Now we’re working to cut the dough to fit the baking sheets we’ve designed the shapes on that we’ll need for our structures.
They let me look up ideas and blueprints online—yes, full-blown PDF blueprints for gingerbread houses that other people have taken the time to create and put on the internet, because apparently that’s a thing. Joey and Patrick are using their own original designs, though, and I’m so excited to see how theirs turn out after all of this buildup.
