Chapter 2

There had been a time when he had loved Christmas and celebrating with his family. Of course I was a kid. Okay, I even liked it when I’d go home from college over Christmas break. And then I met Dylan.

* * * *

Trey loved his boyfriend—most of the time. His family—not so much. Dylan’s parents were polite to him whenever he and Dylan visited them, but beneath the surface Trey knew they thought he wasn’t worthy of their son. They were well-to-do, and inordinately proud of Dylan, who was a doctor. They were equally as proud of their two other children who flown the nest, as Mr. Carter put it, to build successful lives of their own.

Trey came from a large, working-class family, and had gone to the local college, not a big university. It didn’t seem to impress Dylan’s parents that he had dual degrees in costuming and business, and had subsequently opened his own small but successful costume shop.

He and Dylan would spend every Christmas with Dylan’s family. The trade-off was spending Easter with Trey’s. His family welcomed Dylan with open arms, treating him as one more son, brother, or uncle. Dylan fit right in and, so he said, hated when the vacation was over because he’d had so much fun. “Nice people, good food, watching the kids hunt for Easter eggs, and their parents trying to keep them from eating them all. What more could a guy want?”

“Me?” Trey replied with a grin.

“Definitely you,” Dylan agreed. “You’re the best of the lot. I’m damned lucky to have you in my life.”

When they went to Dylan’s parent’s home for Christmas it was a different story altogether. Trey would sit and watch as Mr. and Mrs. Carter interacted with Dylan and his sister and brother. They rarely, if ever, tried to include Trey in the conversations. When they did, it was to ask him how his shop was doing, or how he felt about some person in the news, or the most recent television show or movie, barely paying attention to his reply before moving to something else, as if what he had to say was inconsequential to them. That was doubly true when he tried, almost always unsuccessfully, to join into a conversation they were having.

Even Dylan tended to ignore him, despite the fact they would be sitting next to each other on the sofa, or at the dinner table. He talked with his family as if they only saw each other once a year. It was the truth when it came to his siblings, but he kept in close contact with his parents, who had a large house in one of the upper-class suburbs in the city. Trey and Dylan would visit them at least once a month, and while the Carters were marginally more open with Trey when it was just him and Dylan, they were still standoffish.

He had tried talking to Dylan about his feelings only to have Dylan brush him off, telling him he was imagining it, or that he should jump into the conversations. He didn’t understand or accept that when Trey tried, the others reacted as if what he had to say wasn’t important—as ifhewasn’t important.

Things had come to a head almost a year after Trey and Dylan had begun living together, having been a couple for three years prior to that. It was Christmas day and Trey was dreading the visit with Dylan’s family—but he loved Dylan, so he did his best to put a good face on things.

That is until Dylan’s brother, a stockbroker, looked at Trey over the rim of his glass of eggnog, and said snidely, “So the shop is still doing well? I’m surprised you can make a go of it in this economy. It seems to me people would have better things to spend their money on than frivolities like costumes.”

“Luckily for me, they want something to take their minds offtheir workaday world for a while,” Trey replied with a smile, not falling for the bait. “Like caroling in costume with their friends to entertain the neighbors or patients at a hospital, or having Santa visit their children Christmas day.”

“Throwing good money after bad if you ask me,” Dylan’s father retorted, getting a nod of agreement from his wife and Dylan’s brother.

“I disagree,” Trey said tightly. “There’s nothing wrong with people wanting to enjoy themselves, especially over the holidays. After all, you seem to delight in spending a great deal of money decorating you house and yard, and buying that—” he gestured toward the huge tree in the corner of the living room, “—and trimming it lavishly for the party Dylan said you had for your employees last Saturday night.”

He took a deep breath, wondering if he’d overstepped his bounds, but he wasn’t about to shut up quite yet as all his pent-up feelings boiled to the surface. Especially since Dylan hadn’t come to his defense. “You’re like a few of my richer customers. You want to make a big impression on the people who work for you, and in front of your neighbors and friends. That’s all the holiday is for you, a way to show off that you can do things bigger and better than…than people like me and my family. I’m the poor cousin. Well, not a cousin. I’m Dylan’s less than acceptable boyfriend and you do your best to put me in my place by ignoring me during these wonderful…” he sneered, “family gatherings. Well, all I can say is, Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy the rest of the day. I’m sure you will, because I’m leaving. I’ve got better things to do than spend the stupid holiday with a bunch of phonies who wish I was somewhere else.”

As he remembered when he thought about it later, he’d made a dramatic exit, only to realize he’d have to walk home since he’d driven over with Dylan. He had hoped Dylan would come after him to apologize for the way his family treated him. That didn’t happen.