#futurefic

Will shoved yet another roll of wrapping paper to the side and peered underneath it for a list he was nearly almost hundred percent certain that he’d actually made and used today while shopping and now needed to consult and possibly revise.

“How many bows did you think you’d use?” he asked himself irritably under his breath, setting aside a bag of those he’d bought today. He’d add to the bin of them that he’d gotten years ago in an attempt to make gift wrapping easier. He was going to be like all the homemaking influencers and have a wrapping station, or so he’d thought at the time. He didn’t have a station. He had the temporary use of the kitchen table and space in one of the closets. And there was no point in setting aside wrapping supplies to save time and money if every year he saw some new cute wrapping paper patterns and brought them home.

A tape dispenser clattered to the floor, startling Natalie Wood, who skittered away from Will’s feet and went back to circling the food bowls.

“Sorry, Natty.” Will meant it, but he muttered that too, bending over to snatch up the tape and then resuming his exhausted search for the Christmas list. Beside the rolls of paper and the bin of bows and ribbon were some of the gifts for various Howard cousins and niblings and siblings and siblings-in-law that he’d purchased today. He needed to make sure he had what he wanted to get, and then see what else was still left, and he wanted to do it while shopping was fresh in his mind.

Then he had to wrap them all, tonight, if he could. It would make the following weeks slightly easier. Tomorrow, he’d agreed—months ago, without thinking—to pick up Alicia and take her to the city for some comics event at a shop, which meant getting up early and lots of waiting in line… and probably seeing something she liked and getting it for her for Christmas as sneakily as he could.

If it was expensive, he’d have to use the joint card, which he frowned thinking about. All his life, he’d thought he would enjoy being like Lorelei Lee and spending someone else’s money but it turned out that when it was a reminder of his failures, he didn’t care for it.

Not failures, he immediately repeated in his head, glancing guiltily across the kitchen. It wasn’t failure to finally settle down and get a chair in an actual salon, only to end up having to go back to traveling to work for private clients because of Covid. He wasn’t the only one it had fucked over and it had nothing to do with him succeeding or failing and he was lucky, very lucky, to be okay, both health-wise and financially. He knew that, like he knew that Charlie didn’t mind Will spending his money.

Charlie would, in fact, get cranky if Will called it that and not their money. And would not like Will calling himself a failure either, for having to rebuild his savings and his career this late in the game.

Charlie would be harder on himself than he would ever be on Will, and that included spankings. Then he’d say something about how he worried less about Will knowing that their finances were linked, or say that’s what he thought marriage meant, sharing highs and lows, and if his family had money, and Will was his family, then shouldn’t Will use it?

But Will couldn’t think about that now or he’d lose focus. He was going to complete the list, handle everything like he’d said he would, and then he wouldn’t feel weird about it and everyone would have a nice Christmas. So that. He had to summon the energy and just do it. Wrap presents. Finish the list, if he could. Get ready for bed. Get up to taxi Alicia around and listen to her talk about girls and boys with wonder and a little envy he hadn’t realized he’d ever have toward young people, but there it was anyway. Bring her back here to wait for her mom to pick her up. Get ready for a holiday party which Charlie was iffy on attending for various reasons, but if they didn’t go to that, then probably spend the evening on the phone or online dealing with the rest of the shopping, or wrapping anything he failed to wrap tonight.

Meanwhile, the tree in their living room had lights on it but no decorations, there were several school recitals and one dance performance they were supposed to go see in the next few days, as well as a few more parties—including the one for Charlie’s work which was officially-unofficially mandatory, and Will needed to do a few hair consults before a late December wedding.

Not that long ago, Will’s Decembers had mostly been a small bit of Christmas shopping, first just for his sister and few friends, then for Charlie too. Then Charlie’s sisters, then everyone, even though Charlie kept insisting they could do joint gifts or that he could handle it. Of course Charlie could handle it; he’d been handling it for years before he ever met Will—and frankly for most of the years afterward. That was the point. Will was going to help him, the big, charming dope. If Charlie could insist that marriage meant sharing everything, then it meant sharing everything… even if Will was so tired.

His one Christmas tradition, born out of retail jobs with long December hours and having no family but his sister, was to find whatever channel was playing his favorite Christmas black-and-white classics, and watch them while enjoying a glass or two of champs.

Now, of course, too much champagne was out of the question because of his acid reflux and he had no time to watch anything.

He sighed for the memory of peace and quiet and Barbara Stanwyck, and also his twenties and the ability to eat and drink whatever he wanted, then dropped his head down onto his hands on the table to glare at the reindeer on the roll of wrapping paper closest to him.

In the kitchen, connected to the dining room of the larger apartment they’d happened to have moved into right before lockdown, Charlie was loading the dishwasher, pausing to handwash a few things as well and to check the time on whatever was in the oven.

Charlie had worked all day and probably fielded calls from his family and still had emails to answer or papers to grade, but he’d made dinner anyway. It was for the best; Will couldn’t cook even if he tried. And he’d been busy anyway, out shopping for the family.

Their family, Charlie would say. Like their money. And that Will shouldn’t still think he needed to be perfect and do everything for them—the big hypocrite—and how honestly, he’d been going to get the teens gift cards and Will should do the same.

He was probably right. That’s what teenage Will would have wanted from older relatives instead of bath sets or Christmas socks.

Actually, a nice bath set would be good, for him and for Charlie. He should write that down.

Where the fuck was that list anyway? He had a whole Charlie??? section that needed to be added to. He’d snuck a peek at Charlie’s To Be Read list for some book titles, and considered some fancy cookware that Charlie would probably just buy for himself if Will didn’t. Maybe Will should get Charlie a gift card too, or do one of those TikTok-esque shopping sprees in a Barnes & Noble.

Which would still be spending Charlie’s money, really. Their money, but really Charlie’s. Will was still saving up what he’d lost in the past few years, so using his own would mean Charlie wouldn’t be able to get many books—shockingly expensive things, history books.

Charlie wouldn’t care if Will spent his—their money—or spent his own and got him a cheap bath set, that was the worst part. He was always stupidly surprised to get any meaningful presents, so the amount wouldn’t matter. But Will cared. He wanted to get Charlie something he valued in with all the other stuff.

Nat returned to circle his feet, her soft meows mixed with the quiet thumping that meant Hulking had joined her. Hulking, adopted in Sam’s memory, was a stray who’d had a leg amputated and only entered the kitchen and dining area with its smoother, harder for him to navigate, floors when he was starving. Or cat-starving, anyway.

Alicia had named him. Will got up to feed them and then washed wet food off his hands before dragging himself back over the table to continue his work. He heard the momentary silence that meant Charlie had stopped, probably to watch Will go by, and belatedly looked over once he was no longer on his feet.

“God damn it, Charlie,” Will exclaimed softly without meaning to.

His nearly fifty-year-old hot piece of a husband was in sweatpants, socks, and a soft sleep shirt with the sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the dishwater. He was wearing an apron, the one that said “Silver Fox” which Will had gotten him two birthdays ago, because he was. He had more silver in his hair than dark brown, which was bad enough, but he was actually fitter than he had been because once he’d finally gotten his hip surgery, he’d been ordered to work out to help keep his balance and his strength up and he took that seriously.

He took everything seriously. 

He was currently handwashing Will’s reusable water bottle, the one with the sticker of the French poster for Bringing Up Baby on it—L’impossible Monsieur Bébé—because he was obsessed with keeping bacteria out of it and because tomorrow morning when Will was running around, he was going to want that bottle with him. It was just like Charlie to do this to Will when Will was tired, grumpy, and frustrated.

Charlie looked over, then opened his mouth.

“Don’t.” Will cut him off before he could ask if Will had eaten.

Charlie didn’t look hurt, not exactly, but did take a second before he turned around again, because he was. And now Will was a dick… who yes, had not eaten.

“You should have let me make dinner,” he said anyway. “Or I could have brought some home.” Though even McDonalds would have strained Will’s budget these days, and probably also make him sick. Anyway, Charlie would have thought it wasn’t healthy, which it wasn’t, and made Will take vitamins or something.

Which should have made Will feel like a child but he of course was trained in the ways of Charlie and loved it.

Charlie left the water bottle to dry on a towel by the sink and then said in a mild voice, “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like some?”

There was a lot of hidden worry beneath that careful offer. Will gave up looking for the list in his mess of presents and paper and slumped down in his seat to watch Charlie be competent. “Why do you like me so much?” he wondered quietly, not whining but close.

They both startled at the same time as the words sank in. “No, nope,” Will denied it all immediately. “Never mind. That was exhaustion talking. Don’t worry about it.”

Charlie put down the kettle he’d only just filled. He walked over to the fridge, reached on top of it for a red tin that Will didn’t remember seeing before, then brought it over to the table. He sat down with a loud, old-man noise of relief to be off his feet, then popped the lid on the tin and held it out for Will to look inside.

“Fudge?” Will guessed excitedly, already taking a piece.

Charlie nodded. “And chocolate rum balls. Teddy, the new office guy, apparently de-stresses with baking and confectionary, and goes overboard for Christmas. As people tend to do.”

He gave Will a look. Will gave him a look back.

“That remark feels pointed,” Will finally said, only a little bit snippy because fudge. “I have to get gifts for your family.”

“Which I told you, you didn’t have to do.” Charlie was noticeably not eating any of the candy.  

Will took a rum ball and handed it to Charlie before taking one for himself. “I want them to be happy. I want you to be happy…. Fuck. These are incredibly good. Do we need to get him something in return?”

Charlie hummed a little around a sinful bite of chocolate and rum. “A bottle of wine should do it. I’ll take something from the house if I have no time to go to the store. All that red you can’t drink anymore just sitting there.”

“Stupid aging,” Will sighed it. “Stupid acid reflux. Years of champagne and terrible meals catching up with me.”

“Pretty sure some of it is also genetic.” Charlie shook the tin to urge Will to take more. “You didn’t eat this afternoon.” He was not guessing. “Just seasonal lattes and whatever you had for lunch?”

“The seasonal latte was my lunch,” Will grumbled. “Skim milk even. We can’t all age like you.”

Charlie put the tin to the side and folded his hands in front of him. The Silver Fox on his apron taunting Will. “What can I do to help you?”

“Charlie,” Will whined at him, his irritation forgotten, “you have enough to do.”

“I’d rather see you enjoying yourself.” Charlie accepted the whining but did arch an eyebrow. “You usually do, this time of year.” There was a hint of a question there.

Will floundered a little. “I’m just… going through some stuff, and it’s the worst time of year to do that. Taking stock before Christmas is dumb. It’s nothing. I’ll get over it.”

Charlie took a rum ball all on his own, so Will went for more fudge. “You know,” Charlie began slowly, after savoring his chocolate, “you don’t have to get me anything.” He ignored Will’s gasp of outrage that Will made very dramatic even though he had just had this thought about Charlie moments before. “Truly.” He looked Will in the eye with a serious, dark stare that would have made lesser men whimper. “I’m happy as I am.”  

“You’re dreadful,” Will returned immediately, but didn’t give Charlie a chance to be hurt. “Just absolutely… I ought to make you something handmade, and heartfelt, and ugly, and force you to display it in the house…. Except you would.” He really would. He did it for his sisters and niblings all the time. Will sighed, perhaps also dramatically. “I’m just tired. And hungry—shush, you—and poor—and I know what you’re going to say and shush for that too. Then you go and wash my water bottle for me. I want to do something like that for you.” Will gestured at the air, then reached for more chocolate. “But also bigger and grander because you should have that. You can deny it all you like, but you supported me for two years. Maybe it’s natural for you but I still want to just… fuck, make things easier for you, at minimum. Then get you something really nice.”

A gorgeous frown of confusion came and went on Charlie’s face. “What would you like to do for me?” He was almost tentative, which he really shouldn’t be.

“If I knew that, I’d do it,” Will answered, huffy. He leaned forward a second later. “You know what? I’d like to let you rest. To not have you picking up after me and taking care of me—” the alarm on Charlie’s face was touching— “just for the one day,” Will assured him. “A few hours, even. To not be a mess or stressed, and… all that. But it’s December so… the month of stress.”

Charlie took another rum ball. This conversation had puzzled him or he wouldn’t be reaching for the booze in candy form. He ate it silently, frowning into space at first and then at the reindeer-pattern wrapping paper before looking up again.

“Wrinkles,” Will gently reminded him out of habit.

Charlie gave a nod, not of agreement. More decisive. “What are you doing tonight? Wrapping?” He waved over the table.  

“I have to if I want this all out of the way before the last things arrive… and still have some to ship off, and tomorrow I’m out most of the day and…” Will groaned.

“Or.” Charlie stopped Will’s moaning with a word. “Or… we make Alicia help tomorrow. Wrapping presents for the family is a grownup activity. It will make her feel more adult but also, having big Christmases like this takes work and everyone needs to learn how to contribute sooner or later. And then you give me your list, and we just do gift cards for the teens like I suggested… and maybe a few of the adults. And they can be understanding—they will be understanding,” Charlie added, in that voice that said he meant it and the family would listen. “And how about… tonight, we eat dinner and then do nothing?”

Shocking. Scandalous. Outrageous.

Will sat straight up. “I will probably fall asleep if I do that.” But he wanted.

The softest smile of relief crossed Charlie’s face. “That’s all right with me. You know that.”

“A night on the couch with the half-done Christmas tree and maybe a movie before we’re snoring?” Will was so middle-aged adjacent because that sounded amazing.

“Could you give me that, Will? As your present?” Charlie was so delicate and fine. “You haven’t watched your December movies yet either.”

Of course he’d noticed.

“Charlie.” It was probably the lack of food or the chocolate and sugar but if Will had known what he was in for, he would have dropped that flowerpot to get Charlie’s attention sooner. “It took me years to find these movies on DVD and now once I own them, they’re streaming everywhere? So rude,” he complained instead of saying any of that. “Bell, Book, and Candle could be considered a Christmas movie and I’ve been debating adding it to my usual watch. It begins and ends with Christmas anyway.” He had rambled about that for years now and Charlie had definitely heard it before and was probably very bored. But he regarded Will with that soft look lingering in his eyes. “You know this isn’t going to count, right?” Will surrendered. Will always surrendered to Charlie and was happy to do it. “I still want you to have nice things to open the morning of.”

The oven timer beeped. Charlie sighed and pushed himself up, leaving Will unattended with the chocolate because of course Charlie wouldn’t mind if Will had a million love handles as long as Will was okay and content.

Dreadful, for him to be like that. Will would do whatever he wanted, but all he wanted was this. A quiet night with Will.

Tired or not, Will leapt out his chair, startling poor Hulking as he rushed over to grab Charlie and hold him tight.

The oven beeped again.

“Fuck off,” Will said into the Silver Fox.  

Charlie exhaled the smallest laugh and gently disengaged from Will’s hold to go to the oven and take out whatever he’d put in there—sweet potatoes and chicken or something—and then, after taking his oven mitts off, came right back to Will.

That was much nicer. A much better end to the day than Will had been anticipating. Except maybe it could get a tiny bit nicer. He peeked up. “Need me to do anything else, Charlie, sir?”

“Ah.” Charlie sighed it—very pleased, Will could tell, because he used the voice when he spoke next. “Get out plates and silverware and whatever you want to drink with dinner. Make enough room on the table for that, but you don’t need to clean off the whole thing. Eat real food, and then you have as many rum balls as you like… that won’t affect you tomorrow morning.” Will didn’t think he could get drunk off candy but nodded anyway because he enjoyed being good for Charlie when he wasn’t being bad for Charlie. Charlie wiped something, probably chocolate, from Will’s mouth. “I bought more Tums today when I went to pick up my prescription, including a small travel-sized one for your workbag, since December is the month of tempting foods.”

Will considered that he ought to complain, again, and wonder how he was ever going to show love the way Charlie did, but did his best anyway. “Is that all, sir?”

Charlie hummed thoughtfully, petting Will’s mouth now, with no agenda except that he liked to do it. “There is something you’re supposed to say when you feel like this, isn’t there.”

He was not asking.

Abe passed in 1980, and Shirley got sick and passed away quickly later the same year. In 1981, Noah died under what Midge thinks are strange circumstances, but his employers and Astrid insist it was a simple car accident.

Either way, losing three beloved family members in just a couple of years is a lot to deal with.

When Ethan gets to his feet during Yom Kippur Break Fast and announces he’s asked Julia to marry him, and she’s said yes, Midge feels warmth spread in her chest and she finds herself squeezing Lenny’s hand under the table.

“My baby is getting married,” she beams before getting to her feet and hugging her son tightly. She turns to Julia and hugs her too. “I knew when I saw you with no pants on that first time you’d fit right in.”

Ethan chuckles. “Ma.”

“That’s so weird,” Julia tells her tearfully. “But so sweet. Thank you, Midge.”

Midge takes a breath as she pulls away and squeezes the younger woman’s shoulders. “We need to plan an engagement party!” She whirls around to look at Mei. “You in?”

“Hell, yes,” Mei grins. “I’ll set up the location. There are some really nice restaurants in Chinatown.”

“Aren’t you two getting ahead of yourselves?” Joel asks.

“To Ethan and Julia!” Moishe chimes in, lifting his glass. “May their life together be sweet.”

“And may his dick not wander like his father’s,” Susie adds.

“There it is,” Joel grumbles.

*****

Ethan’s mothers make good on the engagement party. It’s extravagant, held at one of the beautiful, usually off-the-table restaurants in Chinatown. It had taken a lot of planning, but leave it to the two most capable women in his life.

He’s also deeply aware that while Susie didn’t help plan it, she’d certainly helped pay for it. He knows that it was not at all cheap to pull this off. Not only is Ethan’s family and circle of friends relatively large, but Julia’s family is an army, with her parents, three brothers, seven aunts and uncles and fourteen cousins.

Ethan sighs softly as he looks out at the crowd, wrapping his arm around Julia and kissing her cheek before getting to his feet.

“You know, usually my Ma is the one who gives the speech, but she has a reputation for telling the worst story she can possibly think of  when she does, so I’m taking the reigns.”

Everyone chuckles and Midge shrugs sheepishly from her seat next to Lenny.

“I am a lucky guy,” Ethan says. “Have been for as long as I can remember. Two powerhouse moms who have done nothing but support me. Two dads who are very good at teaching me about life. Siblings who support me no matter. Doting grandparents and aunts and uncles. And Susie, who is, in fact, the best friend a five-year-old child of divorce could have asked for.” 

Everyone chuckles at that and Susie rolls her eyes, but she looks misty-eyed as well.

“And now I’m even luckier,” Ethan goes on. “Because not only do I get Julia out of this whole marriage thing, but I get her incredibly large, loving family in the deal as well, and that’s a big get. And I could probably go on for another hour about how incredible and loving and sweet and smart and beautiful Julia is. I should probably save some material for the actual wedding. Instead, I’ll just thank all of you for coming to celebrate. Thank Ma and Mei and Susie for this great party, and say cheers.”