Christmas with Danny Fit by Amy Lane Read Free Book Online

say he’d never been in love. He had been—although, whether it was with Jesse or Danny Fit, the vote was still out.
    He told himself firmly that either way, he had a life, even an inner one; then he wiped his eyes on his new sheets (which weren’t as stiff as they’d been when he moved in) and then set his alarm early.
    It was hard getting up at four a.m. to prep his turkey and put it in the oven, and it was even harder to dress in jeans and a sweatshirt and go out into the smoking cold of dawn.
    But it was worth it when he drove up to Loaves and Fishes with cans of everything from green beans to Spam and asked one of the volunteers where they needed it. They helped him park his car safely (a big if, off of Richards Boulevard) and the woman—in her fifties with frizzy gray hair and a warm smile who was there because, she told him, her kids were in college and her husband was sleeping in—took him to the back, showed him where to leave his jacket, and put him to work peeling potatoes.
    He peeled potatoes for two hours, listening to the sounds of the soup kitchen, the forced happiness of the volunteers, the remorseful gratitude of the people who’d had it too rough this year to do for themselves. When he had half an hour left to get his bird out of the oven, he told his volunteer (Margaret) that he had to leave, but he’d return sometime if she liked.
    She hugged him. No “personal space,” no “you’re a stranger and I barely know you”—she just hugged him, told him warmly Amy Lane

    Christmas With Danny Fit [44]

    that she would love to see him whenever he had the time, and wished him a happy holiday.
    Kit thought he might show up at the soup kitchen a lot after that—if there were people there who would adopt him and be kind, well, then, he probably had lots of charity in his heart to give.
    He went home, and the turkey smelled great. The sides weren’t too difficult, and he lit candles, put a vase of flowers on his table, and set music, then sat down and had himself dinner.
    He imagined that Jesse was there. He imagined that Danny was there. Danny would be a perfect host and a good lover. Jesse would be a perfect guest and a lot of fun. And maybe, if Kit was lucky, Jesse would gift him with more kisses like the one in his office.
    At the end of the meal, he couldn’t decide who he’d rather have at his table in reality, but he was aware that a little bit of reality was necessary. He packed up a small tray of food, complete with cookies, and took the ten-minute drive to his mother’s tiny Victorian on R Street.
    He knocked on the door with conviction, and when she opened it—in nothing but a house coat, red eyes, and a dangling cigarette—he thrust the package into her hands.
    “Happy Thanksgiving, Ma. Enjoy.”
    He turned around, not expecting a lot of thanks or even recognition, and he reached the top step of the porch before she said, “What? You’re not even going to eat it with me?”
    He contemplated ignoring her, but then it hit him. That was the closest thing she’d ever expressed to an actual desire for his company. He turned back around.

    Amy Lane

    Christmas With Danny Fit [45]

    “Sure, Ma. What’s on TV?”
    “Crap. Nothin’ but crap. But Wizard of Oz is on right now.
    You used to drive me crazy with that one when you were a kid.”
    Kit blinked. He didn’t remember this. “Figures,” he said philosophically. “Yeah. I might have a cookie.” He’d packed all the extras with the meal—why not?
    He stayed through the rest of the movie, while his mother ate her little impromptu meal, balanced on her lap. The dining room table was dirty, still—lots of bowls full of cereal and a few empty beer bottles. To his memory, she’d always had food on the table for him. He thought about the people in the soup kitchen that morning—the same couldn’t be said for them, could it?
    “How’s the food, Ma?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound needy.
    She swallowed a bite. “It