Remembering Christmas by Drew Ferguson Read Free Book Online

floors.
    He was taking one of those long, grateful-to-be-alive pisses when someone jiggled the doorknob, following with a light tapping on the door when their entrance was barred.
    â€œJust a minute. I’m almost finished,” James insisted, irritated by the rude impatience of the intruder.
    â€œIt’s me. Open the door.”
    James unlocked the door, and Alex slipped inside quickly, his hands down James’s pants in record time, his mouth eager for a kiss.
    â€œCome on, Alex. Cut it out,” James protested, amused by his former lover’s predictability. The opportunity for a little quickie with his old boyfriend while Leo was under the same roof, only a few rooms away, was too exciting for Alex to resist.
    â€œWhy?” Alex insisted, trying to force James’s pants to his knees. “We haven’t done it in, what? Forever?”
    â€œI’ll make a deal with you. If you find me so irresistible, then come over to my place one night next week, and we can get undressed and lie in bed and I’ll make love to you without needing to worry about Leo’s breaking down the door,”
    â€œOkay,” Alex sighed, disappointed.
    James’s fast thinking had gotten him off the hook without offending Alex, who he knew had no interest in leisurely lovemaking with no risk or possibility of being caught in the act.
    â€œI have to pee anyway,” Alex said, as James closed the door behind and walked down the hallway, where he encountered Archie Duncan peeking into doorways, searching for a place to empty his bladder.
    â€œThere you are, James. I was looking for you. I was worried you’d left.”
    â€œThere’s a bathroom at the end of the hall. The door’s closed, but no one’s in there. Just walk right in,” James offered, chuckling at the thought of sending an innocent man into the mouth (literally) of danger.
    â€œBe back in a minute,” Archie promised, and James, without saying good-bye to anyone, asked Armando for his scarf and took the elevator six floors to the lobby where he found a cab conveniently waiting to take him away.
    Â 
    Tomorrow morning was hours away, and James wasn’t quite ready to go home. He wanted to feel fresh and young and full of expectation, and, in Manhattan, there was only one place a middle-aged man in need of a drink could go to feel like chicken, so he gave the cabdriver the address of The Townhouse.
    As usual, the bar was packed with gentleman of a certain age who looked to be out long past their bedtimes. They gathered in the piano lounge, sipping strong drinks through swizzle sticks, singing their blessed little hearts out. A quartet requested Irving Berlin’s “Snow” and received an appreciative round of applause for a rendition that matched the classic movie version note-fornote. A dark-haired boy, conspicuous in an oversized, hooded parka, sidled up next to James, trying to make eye contact. James walked away, preferring to engage his hustlers through respectable agencies, and retreated to a quiet corner to be alone with his thoughts.
    He’d had every intention of announcing his recent lifealtering decision to become an Ulster County property owner to his soon-to-be former housemates tonight, but, somehow, the opportunity to casually introduce the subject into the dinner conversation never arose. He was going to have to take the coward’s way out and present it to them in writing, something short and kind, the kind of correspondence he would want to receive if he was getting the grand kiss-off from someone he’d spent entire summers with for most of his adult life. It was probably for the better, breaking the news in a formal letter, delivering a controlled message that the time had arrived for new and different adventures. He didn’t want to risk any hurtful casual words or remarks since, Felix aside, he was fond of each of them. But the truth was, they depressed him, them and the