FIC: One Fine Day, Tom/Bill, PG-13, 1/3
Title: One Fine Day
Author: ???
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Genderswap; older woman/younger man
Summary: Mixed signals, an uncharacteristic one-night stand, and the sudden intrusion of an unplanned holiday dinner - complete with parents - puts Professor Tomi Kaulitz in a compromising situation. Her one-night stand is invited to stay like a member of the family, and over the course of the day they spend together, she finds him challenging her assumptions…and making an unexpectedly determined chase for her elusive heart.
Recipient: knw
Author's notes: All the trappings of holiday cheer, but none of the calories! Love and thanks to my beta-reader, my talented banner-maker, and my very dear pre-reader for putting up with me and all their help along the way. Thanks most of all to my recipient, for whom this was a pleasure to write.
One Fine Day
The warmth of sunlight crept across Tomi's face, making her nose twitch, and she pawed at the top edge of her bedclothes in a vain attempt to pull them higher and block out the light. The alarm hadn't yet gone off, which meant it was either too early, or given the angle of light heating up her face, it was a weekend - whichever it was, she could sleep a little later. She shifted in bed to aid in drawing up the duvet and found it stuck. Another tug revealed the obstruction to be unyielding. Her eyes flew open when a soft noise greeted that second attempt.
A handsome face, slack in repose, met her disbelieving gaze.
"Oh…" Tomi's mouth formed the word without speaking it aloud. Recognition and memory knitted together at the same time; it was Bill, the young barista who staffed the coffee stand in the building where Tomi conducted her classes.
Bill, the younger man who'd invited her out for drinks the night before, following one of Tomi's most horrendous days on record. Her guard had been down, and so she'd accepted his invitation as they left the building at the same time, he after closing the coffee stand, she after swimming through an ocean of term papers that left her bereft of faith in humanity. One drink had led to another, flirting had led to openly sexual banter…Bill, displaying a courtliness she hadn't expected, had offered to walk her home.
The rest of the night, try as she might to block it out in a vaguely alcoholic haze, was etched vividly in her waking memory. It had been good - too good. She was going to have a hard time kicking him out this morning.
Tomi drew her full lower lip into her mouth, contemplating Bill's features as her tongue flicked idly at the ring situated in the lower left corner of her lip. He was a gorgeous boy - young man, she amended in her thoughts. She recalled from their widely-rambling talks the night before that he was close to graduating, and he'd been twenty-one since well before the start of the school year. A soft fringe of black hair framed his oval face, which was accented by sharp, high cheekbones and a proud, mostly straight nose with an endearing snub at the tip. His brown eyes were faintly upturned, lending him an exotic air, helped along by his tendency to wear dark eyeliner and shadowy-smudged makeup.
He was the kind of boy Tomi would have been all over in college. Androgynous, inquisitive, quick-witted but solicitous in ways that didn't make Tomi snap at him for seeking to undercut her commitment to relationship equality.
She wanted to reach up and cup his cheek, enjoying his warmth. At the same time, Tomi knew she ought to pull away, roll out of bed and put some distance between them, grab her robe and go downstairs and make coffee. She couldn't afford to let either of them get attached. Waking up in bed with him, letting him catch her making goofy eyes at him, would send all the wrong signals.
Before she could move, a long, lean arm slung itself over her waist and drew her in close, making Tomi suck in a breath. Their noses brushed. She bit her lip harder, trying to avert her face before she sent a blast of morning breath Bill's way.
As she turned her head, she caught sight of Bill's dark eyes opening.
"Mm," Bill murmured, his voice a sleepy, pleased rumble even from that first syllable. "Morning."
His voice was scratchy, raspy - self-satisfied, even.
That alone made Tomi want to bristle and push at his chest. Any excuse would be a good excuse to put him at arm's length.
"M-morning," she faltered, and damned herself for the way her voice cracked. She was the elder - by a good eight years, she reminded herself. She ought to be able to manage the gentle put-down as she'd done before.
Bill's eyes crinkled up in the most incredible smile, his lips parting over even, white teeth, and Tomi found herself smiling back before she could come up with a following statement.
"I was a little worried," Bill said, his voice low and conversational, warming up from that scratchy rasp to his mellow tenor. "Part of me thought I'd wake up in bed alone - or with a cat."
"Ysabet doesn't sleep with me," Tomi returned, the response automatic, then she pulled in a breath as Bill's words brought a recollection back to her - they'd come in last night, shed their boots beside the door, and wound up on the couch for a lazy makeout session instead of the 'nightcap' she'd offered him. Ysabet had pushed her cold wet kitty nose into Bill's fingers when he'd dangled his arm off the couch.
"I've been thinking of you as a dog person," he had remarked, as Tomi expressed surprise that her standoffish cat had introduced herself in so forward a fashion.
"My lease doesn't allow them," Tomi had replied, making a little face. "Otherwise, I would."
Bill's eyes were still smiling at her, and Tomi blamed her scattered thoughts for the way she leaned in as he pushed their faces closer together, angled to the side, and moved in for a kiss.
They were already in bed together, their bodies tangled in greater intimacy than that which a kiss presented, she reasoned. What greater harm could there be in giving into this once more?
She turned her face to the side again, though, when his tongue moved over her lower lip.
"Why won't you let me?" Bill whispered, and Tomi wrinkled her nose.
"Need to brush my teeth first," she muttered back, sitting up and letting the sheet fall from her torso, unselfconscious about her nudity. What was the point, when Bill had already seen everything the night before?
"I don't mind," Bill began.
"I do," Tomi replied, sharper than she intended, but perhaps it was the opening wedge that she needed.
It was going to be awkward, she fretted on her way to the bathroom as she shuffled into her fleece-lined slippers and grabbed her robe from its habitual place draped over the foot over her bed. She saw Bill every day, or near to it - he staffed the coffee stand in her building, for crying out loud! What was she supposed to do from now on, pretend not to see him? Slip in through the rear door? The service entrance…now, there was an idea…
Wrapped up in thoughts of avoidance, Tomi jumped as a warm arm wrapped around her midsection and a kiss was pressed to her temple.
"I'm not sure if that's practical or neurotic," Bill informed her.
Tomi pulled away from him to glare, but before she could, Bill was continuing, "Is there someplace I can brush mine, or use yours after, or…" He shifted from one foot to the other, discomfort crossing his handsome face as he tugged at the waistband of the black boxer-briefs he must have donned straight out of bed.
"There's a bathroom down the hall," Tomi directed, pointing toward her bedroom door with her own toothbrush, soft bristles mounted on a plain orange handle with a rubber grip. "The linen closet is halfway between here and there on your right, and there are spare toothbrushes on the top shelf."
"Thanks," Bill said gratefully, and planted another quick kiss on the corner of her mouth that Tomi was too slow to anticipate, too flustered to avoid.
She watched his tight little arse bunch and release as he left the bedroom. He was so skinny she could see the muscles in his back and thighs flexing, too. It sent her into a brief, torrid recollection of Bill moving over her the night before, the way his biceps had jumped as he propped himself over her, his head back and mouth open when he'd…
Tomi snapped back to the present and stared at her blushing reflection in the mirror.
"Don't you dare," she warned herself sternly, and ran her toothbrush under a stream of water to moisten the bristles. She jabbed the toothbrush toward her reflection before applying a daub of toothpaste. "You're kicking him out after breakfast."
Perhaps after a quickie, then breakfast, Tomi thought but deliberately did not say aloud. That brought the prospect closer to reality than fantasy. Tomi was a believer in clear visualization as a technique to bring potential outcomes to life.
Still, she mused as she brushed her way around from one row of molars to the other, it would be a shame to have that much gorgeous, willing young man in her home and not indulge in what he was so clearly eager to provide. It wouldn't be leading him on. It would be the mutual satisfaction of two healthy libidos.
Rationalization was a tricky thing.
Tomi wandered out into the hallway in her slippers and robe, tightening the belt and tying it into a proper knot. She was a little surprised to hear the tub running when she went past, and it helped her to make the decision on whether to knock or go downstairs to make coffee.
As she put the kettle on and measured beans to pour into the grinder, she glanced over her shoulder when a knock at the front door reached her ears. Tomi ignored it at first, thinking it had to be the nosy neighbor from next door who occasionally came over on the pretext of borrowing a cup of sugar or half a liter of milk, until the second knock came. This one was an unmistakable rap, TOK-tok-tok-TOK-tok, and Tomi's brown eyes widened.
"Oh, no," she said, her stomach going sour. "No, no…"
Tomi checked the calendar beside her kitchen door before peeping through the archway that led down the front hall. There was still a good two weeks before Christmas, though there was snow on the ground and all the neighbors had long since hauled out their strings of garland or lights to bedeck front lawns and line their porches with requisite holiday cheer.
For a long, sinking moment she thought about not answering it, but the kitchen clock helpfully informed her it was early enough. Plus, her cell phone with its distinctive ringtone was on the front hall table, and if it was called after she failed to answer the door, it would betray her with its opening musical salutation.
"It's too early," Tomi groaned, meaning that in more than one sense. She hurried down the hallway, throwing the hall closet door wide open and rummaging until she found a housecoat that had been stowed there for half a year, destined for Goodwill. It would be too weird to answer the door in a robe with nothing under it, so this was her next best option. She jammed the housecoat over her shoulders, pulled it mostly closed, and went to answer the door, breathless.
"We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year," the couple on the front stoop caroled, their faces pressed together, pairs of faded blue and twinkling brown eyes fixed on Tomi the instant she pulled open the door.
"Mom, Dad," Tomi groaned, summoning up a weak smile. Glad as she was to see her parents, this had to be the worst timing on their part since she'd moved to a solo dorm and they'd dropped in on her when she was 'entertaining' - five of her closest college friends and three trays of vodka Jello shots. "You are way, way too early."
"Merry early Christmas!" her mother trilled, throwing her shoulders back and rattling a tall paper bag at her side. "We come bearing gifts."
"I'm taking your mom on a cruise for this Christmas," her father informed her, lifting a white plastic bag with a grocery logo blazoned on the side. "So we figured we'd stop by and give you all the trimmings a bit early, make sure you're not missing out all the best parts even if we're not with you this year."
Tomi's eyes rounded. "You should have called," she exclaimed, half-scolding, but helplessly pulled the door wider. She tightened her grip on the housecoat to keep the front shut enough to cover the essentials as she stepped back to permit her parents to pass.
"Oh, darling, it's Saturday!" her mother Mona exclaimed, breezing through the door, high-heeled boots clacking over the wooden floor before she reached the runner that extended down the front hall. She patted Tomi's cheek as she continued, "I know how you like to sleep in, but surely you don't begrudge your parents a little visit before they go away for fourteen days out of country."
"Yes, but…I might have plans," Tomi replied, trying not to glance at the staircase.
Her father Karl closed the door with his foot, shaking his grocery bag and arching his thick, iron gray brows at her. "There's more where this came from," he informed her. "Your mother and I stopped and got a fresh roast, too. We'll put together a great dinner between the three of us, with all the trimmings…"
"Oh, no," Tomi mumbled before she could stop herself, trailing forlornly after her parents as they bustled right into the kitchen and made themselves at home.
How were they to know today was different from any other day they might stop by? Her parents lived about an hour's drive away, but Tomi lived right atop a major city, and her parents lived in the outskirts of the far suburbs. It wasn't too unusual for them to stop at her place on their way to or from some event or other in the city. Her routine had been pretty well established for the past few years; go on a slight binge on Friday nights, sleep in on Saturdays, grade more papers, do some light housework, call her parents…in fact, it could be fairly said that she was a creature of habit.
"I, I'm really not prepared to entertain-" Tomi began, doing her best to formulate some kind of excuse to get them out of the house for fifteen minutes so that she could get rid of Bill.
It was a cutting, even cruel thought, but she had to get him out of the house before her parents saw and made the wrong assumptions.
Or, worse, the right ones.
"So, go and put some clothes on!" Mona exclaimed, unfazed. "I know where the coffee is and your father can put some Christmas music on the stereo before he fetches the rest of the groceries - let's get this day-long party started, dear!"
"No, Mom, I just need to-" Tomi began. Part of her hoped Bill would come far enough down the staircase to realize what was happening, and sneak down the back staircase and out the door. She supposed she ought to seize her mother's suggestion and go up the stairs and ask him to do that very thing. Any thought of the prospect of an encore vanished under the weight of disposing of the evidence of her previous night's tryst; there was no more time to spare feelings.
"Did someone say party?" a masculine tenor interrupted.
Tomi huddled into her housecoat and bit her lip, eyes going wide. She couldn't even bring herself to look to her right as an arm draped over her shoulders, in as familiar a manner as Bill had been with her last night.
Bill was dressed in his jeans and loose dark gray sweater, which draped artfully off one shoulder to expose the strap of a black tank top. His shoulder-length layered black hair was brushed and immaculate and his face was makeup-free that morning, and it was perhaps even more striking for the contrast from the smudged dark eyeshadow that Tomi remembered from the night before.
"Oh," Mona said brightly. "Who is this?" Her blue eyes were lively with curiosity and Tomi wanted nothing more than to turn and concede the field, fleeing upstairs.
She couldn't let Bill stay and explain himself, however.
"Um," Tomi replied, and she couldn't let it stand at that. "This is Bill Trümper, Mom, Dad; Bill…these are my parents, Mona and Karl Kaulitz. Umm…Bill is…"
She gulped, looked to her right, and was astonished by Bill's attentive expression. His brown eyes gazed right back into hers. It let her know he was going to back her up, no matter what she said. There was a faint, resigned cast to his mouth that Tomi read as his understanding of an imminent dismissal.
"…my boyfriend," Tomi blurted, and caught her lip between her teeth. She poked nervously at her lip-ring as she stared at her parents, horrified with herself. She knew why she'd done it, though. Independent and fiercely devoted to women's lib as she was, within the layers of Tomi's outer shells forged by years of standing up for herself and demonstrating female equality resided a girl who was vulnerable to her parents' criticisms, and eager to please them.
In short, she loved her parents and didn't want to let them down. Introducing them to a one-night stand before summarily kicking him out the door when they'd come to bring her tidings and joy, albeit two weeks early, would be a big letdown for everyone.
Bill's fingers squeezed her shoulder and Tomi cut her eyes in his direction, letting him know without words that he'd better not push it.
"Your boyfriend," Mona picked up on the word joyfully and at once. "I'll make coffee for four, then."
Tomi offered up a weak grimace in lieu of a smile.
"Tomi," Karl spoke up, sounding somewhat stern. "Why haven't we heard about this boyfriend of yours? We'd have definitely called if we'd known we might be disturbing you."
A squeak came out of Tomi's mouth as she absorbed what he surely meant by 'disturbing.' It probably disturbed her more than them, the prospect they might be imagining her with a sex life now.
"It's a very recent relationship," Bill replied smoothly. "I totally understand Tomi wanting to wait and make sure we were going to be together past the first few dates before offering to introduce me."
Tomi shut her mouth and nodded, sagging against Bill for a second in the extremity of her relief. "I'll go and get dressed," she said, and cast a look over her shoulder on her way to the stairs, imploring with her eyes for Bill to be good and behave himself with her parents.
He flashed her an impish grin in response that did nothing to quell her anxiety, but it did touch off a frenzy of twitterpated wings beating their way uncomfortably through her middle.
Upstairs, she did two things quickly. She checked her guest bathroom on the way down the hall, and discovered that Bill had left it in immaculate condition, though a lingering imprint of shower steam remained upon the air. In her own bedroom, she hastily threw on clothes and checked her reflection in the mirror, daubing on rose-tinted lip gloss and the barest minimum of mascara - nothing more than she typically wore. She was worried about leaving Bill alone for too long with her parents, though for whose sake that was, she remained unsure.
She descended the stairs clad in a black cable-knit sweater covered in diamond patterning, worn close enough to the skin that it made Tomi tug at it self-consciously but she overrode that because she knew how good it looked on her. She was tall, slim-hipped but curvy, and tended to wear clothes a size or two too big unless she was dressing to impress - something she'd done more often after graduating from her master's. She donned a matching black band to keep her dreads off her face, and wore simple khaki cargos, loose and unpressed, still somewhat rumpled, over a pair of fleece-lined clogs. It was cold enough in the kitchen that she didn't go barefoot even though she preferred it.
Even spending that bare amount of time on a getting-ready routine threw her into a quiet panic and she descended the stairs hastily, a million questions swarming through her head over what Bill must be telling her parents - or what they might be telling him. She didn't bother to ask herself why it might matter, if she would be dumping the poor boy by day's end.
"Mom, Dad, I'm sure Bill has a lot of things on his plate today," Tomi launched into a hastily-prepared spiel as she breezed through the door, heading straight for Bill. She took his arm in preparation to tow him bodily from the room. He was taller by a few inches, but she was pretty sure she was more determined. "So, we ought to let him finish his coffee and get on his way…" Out of the way, she'd nearly caught herself saying.
Her parents turned astonished faces on her while Bill brought his coffee mug up to his mouth, hiding half his face while he gave her abashed eyes.
"We invited him to dinner, of course, Tomi," Mona said, leaning back against the kitchen counter and folding her arms. "We haven't been introduced to a boyfriend of yours in ages…"
"Years," Karl picked up the thread. "So of course we're going to do our best to see you hang onto this one. We'll fill him up with a proper meal. You both look like you could stand to eat - skinny as usual, Tomi; hasn't your mother been inviting you over for dinner lately?"
Tomi groaned and clung to Bill's arm like a life raft. "I'm within an acceptable body-mass index ratio for my height-"
"Tomi's body is perfect," Bill interrupted, and took a sip of his coffee. "I certainly wouldn't change anything about her. As for me, I've been naturally rake-thin since I was a kid; I've always had trouble putting on weight."
"It makes anyone with a motherly eye think you're overfed, dear," Mona said fondly. "Let us feed you tonight. I make a great roast!"
Bill bit his lip and looked over at Tomi, his eyes going huge again.
"Bill's vegetarian, Mom," Tomi said with a sigh. She had those tendencies herself, but still found herself accepting a slice or two of roast during the holidays.
"Oh!" Mona looked startled. "Well, nothing wrong with that. I make a delicious bean casserole, and roasted beets, and sweet potatoes…"
"I love all of those things," Bill said graciously.
"Yes, but you can't stay," Tomi insisted. She faced her mother. "Really, he can't stay."
"It's Saturday," Mona said, waving a hand. "Plenty enough time to get on with homework after we leave."
"I really don't have much this weekend, but it's all right, Mr. and Mrs. Kaulitz - I'm sure Tomi wants to spend time alone with you, and I don't want to get in the way…" Bill demurred.
Tomi began to turn a triumphant smile in her mother's direction, but Mona was already plowing onward.
"Nonsense, there's more than enough food for four people, and you'll prevent us from having so many leftovers. Besides, Karl and I would love to get the opportunity to get to know you, Bill," Mona said, and gave Tomi a dire look to silence her. "Not another word from either of you. If Bill doesn't have any plans, he's staying."
Tomi opened her mouth.
"I don't have any plans," Bill said, sounding meek.
Tomi clamped her mouth shut, biting down on her lip. She wished it weren't far too obvious to grind her foot down on Bill's instep as a means of behavioral correction.
"But only if it's all right with Tomi," Bill continued, surprising her.
Tomi blinked as all eyes turned in her direction, putting her on the spot. She wanted to say no, of course; the word was already rising up within her. She ought to say no, even - it was unbearably awkward to have Bill stand in as her boyfriend and it was silly to lead her parents on in such a manner even if Bill had already guessed she'd intended to basically push him out the front door and never see him again.
It wasn't Mona's hopeful eyes or even Karl's expectant head-tilt that decided her. She looked in Bill's direction, and his brown eyes were guileless. He meant what he said. If Tomi said she wasn't all right with it, he would bid them all goodbye and walk out the door; she could sense it.
That made her wonder, for an instant, whether they weren't more compatible than she'd assumed.
"If Bill wants to," Tomi said slowly, gazing right back into his steady, warm eyes.
He broke into such a radiant smile that her own lips tugged upward in response. "It's been such a long time since I've had a home-cooked meal, you don't even know," he enthused.
"Right," Tomi said slowly. "Because your parents live all the way in New York…" There were a few facts about Bill that she could recall from the night before. They had talked about anything and everything, their topics varying from the classical literature that Tomi taught in her undergraduate classes to the up and coming models in the fashion shows that Bill admired.
Bill's grin turned impish. "Beyond that, the fact that my mother is a terrible cook," he replied, tone teasing.
"Then it's settled!" Mona exclaimed, clapping her hands and seeming overjoyed. "Karl and I will be right back, darling - we're going to get the rest of the bags from the trunk. Keep the coffee warm!"
Tomi turned from uncomfortably long contemplation of Bill's handsome face as that remark sank in. "Mom," she protested. "How much did you bring? You know you're not feeding the whole family tree, right? Just this one branch."
Mona ignored that and snagged her husband's arm on the way out. "Going to need your help, Karl, so put that coffee down."
In the wake of Hurricane Mona, the kitchen was briefly silent. Bill disengaged his arm from hers and rubbed at his neck, looking abashed.
"Bill," Tomi began, rubbing her hand over her thigh and putting some distance between their bodies. It wasn't that touching Bill or being so close to him made her uncomfortable. Rather, she thought she could get too comfortable with it. She moved toward the coffee and grabbed the silver thermal urn, hefting it to check the liquid level. There was enough if it was only her drinking, but she considered brewing another batch.
"I know, I'm sorry for imposing," Bill said, sounding repentant.
When Tomi turned with her mug of coffee in hand, he was biting his lip and looking terribly young. She wanted to sigh and give him a hug - before gently shooing him out of her life. He was about five years too young, at least, to get involved with someone in her age bracket.
"You don't have family around here, do you?" she wondered aloud, taking a sip of her coffee and fitting her other arm across her front.
Bill gave her a slow blink. "No, they're all in New York, or scattered up and down the East Coast."
"Then, stay with us," Tomi decided. Now that she had her pretext secured, she could afford to extend the offer in the spirit of generosity.
It wasn't because she wanted to keep seeing Bill, or because she wanted her parents to believe she actually had a social life for a change. God forbid.
"You're sure?" Bill prompted. "I mean, I could kind of tell you didn't intend for me to stay that much longer. If I'd come out of the bathroom to find my clothes piled outside the door-"
"I wouldn't have done that!" Tomi protested, shocked. "I…was I really that bad?"
Bill's mouth twitched. "No, but I could tell you weren't comfortable."
"Only because I…I don't do that very often," Tomi admitted, shoulders slumping.
Bill's eyebrow twitched upward. "Not to imply there's anything wrong with it, but you're an attractive-"
Tomi cut that off at the pass. "I intended for you to stay and have breakfast, at the very least," she admitted, taking it for the lesser of two evils in terms of disclosure. She didn't want to confess to having entertained thoughts of a second round.
"Oh, really?" Bill challenged. He swirled his coffee mug, maintaining eye contact with her.
"Yes, and I make damn good waffles," Tomi replied, smug about it. She bit her tongue before she could say I guess you'll never know, because she didn't want to see Bill's face fall.
"Then, as long as you're okay with it," Bill said, appearing more at ease.
Tomi nodded. "I didn't think what position I'd be putting you into, though," she said, dipping her chin and gazing into the depths of her own coffee mug. "It's not fair to you, to ask you to play boyfriend all day."
Bill's eyes were dark when Tomi looked up. He held her gaze in silence, and she wanted to take a step back when he moved forward, but the counter was already pressing into the backs of her hip-bones.
"Tomi," he murmured, close enough to put a hand on her shoulder, but he didn't reach for her. "Who says I couldn't be?"
Startled, Tomi opened her mouth to let him know that play-acting for the day was all that could come out of this.
The front door creaked open. "Back, and my goodness, have we got some goodies!" Mona trilled.
Tomi licked her lip, averting her eyes. She glanced through the archway that led to the front hall, and shivered as Bill did touch her now, resting his long-fingered hand on her shoulder.
"Hey," Bill said, soft enough to avoid being overheard. "Let me know if you're not okay with something, all right? I know it'll probably be awkward enough for you. So just-"
"How, some kind of secret password? Should I step on your foot?" Tomi inquired sarcastically.
Bill's generous mouth quirked. "Call me 'Billy,'" he suggested baldly. "It'll get my attention, and I hate it. So it'll let me know you hate something."
Tomi nodded slowly and her eyes flicked to his hand.
"Too much already?" Bill said with a low chuckle, stepping back and letting his hand drop to his side.
Tomi shook her head. "It's fine," she said, and shrugged. "We should touch casually, you know? Boyfriend, girlfriend." She gave him a tight smile and left his side to go to the front hallway.
An indeterminate grunt came from behind her, but Tomi ignored it in favor of investigating the overly loud rustling coming from the front hallway.
"Mo-ther!" Tomi protested, eyes bugging wide as she took in the large number of bags that were weighing her parents down. "Did you bring the kitchen sink, too, or-"
Bill was brushing past her with a brief pat to her shoulder. "Mrs. Kaulitz, let me help," he told her, approaching from the side and holding a hand out.
"No need, darling," Mona told him, piling three onto him anyhow. She turned a flawless smile on Tomi. "Groceries and presents, dear! And Dad has some cookies, of course. We'll have some mulled wine, Grandpa's Christmas recipe, snack while we get the food together…"
Her father turned from the front hallway to enter the living room and paused on the threshold. "Tomi," he said, turning a disappointed look on her. "No tree?"
Tomi grimaced and crossed her arms. "It's not like I've had much time lately, dad - end of term is coming up and there are papers to grade, final exams to prepare…"
"It's true, she's been busy," Bill contributed, flashing her a bracing smile as he went past her with his armful of bags.
Tomi stood in the middle of her kitchen and contemplated its unaccustomed invasion. She did have papers to grade, still; she wouldn't have anything to do on Christmas Day at this rate.
"That sounds like a great project for you and Bill, then!" Mona said brightly. "Karl, dear, drop those bags of presents in the living room and come join me, will you? Ooh, unless you want to string some lights out front…"
"Mom, really, that's not necessary-"
"Your neighbors will think you have no holiday cheer!" Mona exclaimed, hoisting her grocery bags and turning from the counter with a familiar stubborn look.
Tomi felt that obdurate expression crossing her own face often enough, but she knew she'd lose this particular battle.
"It will only take a few minutes; your dad knows what he's doing," Mona continued. She transferred her attention to the tall, thin young man beside her, appealing to him. "Bill?"
"I'm staying out of this one," Bill claimed, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"All right, then unscrew the big white thermos for me, dear," she said, and faced off with Tomi. "You've got the Christmas things in the basement, I assume?"
"Yes," Tomi replied, slumping her shoulders.
"I'd love it if you and Bill would decorate your tree," Mona said earnestly, coming closer and appearing on the verge of gathering Tomi into a spontaneous hug. "It makes me sad that we can't be here with you on Christmas Day in the first day in…I can't remember how long!"
"I'm a grown woman, Mom," Tomi protested.
"True," Mona said, chucking Tomi's chin until she backed away, glaring.
"And I don't care what the neighbors think…" Tomi continued.
"Don't you care what your mother thinks, either?" Mona said mournfully.
Tomi blinked. She had fallen rather neatly into that trap. "Mom," she began.
"That's settled, then," Mona said, turning for the bags of groceries and beginning to rummage through them. "I'll have the mulled wine waiting for you all when you get back."
"It's a little early in the day for that…" Bill demurred.
Tomi took him by the elbow and towed him out of the kitchen. "Believe me," she muttered, "you're going to need it."
Bill made an inquisitive noise that she ignored, because she'd reached the hallway where her father stood looking around.
"No Christmas decorations at all," he said, not in an accusing way whatsoever, but somewhat forlorn.
"I don't tend to put many up," Tomi said in response, dipping a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Sometimes I get the tree up the weekend before Christmas, but it's not usually a top priority." She gave him apologetic eyes as she turned the corner to the door beside the stairs that led down into the basement.
It was a nice little house, not roomy but comfortable, and best of all the price had been right when Tomi signed the lease. It had room enough for all her things and a bit more to stow away in rotation. She kept boxes in the basement, neatly labeled by season; as well as a few boxes of trim and decoration that were kept on wooden scaffold-style shelving pushed against the far wall. A single naked bulb illuminated their path as they trooped through the shadowed spaces.
"Perfect set-up for a horror movie," Bill observed, close enough to breathe down the back of her neck.
"We won't be re-enacting Black Christmas," Tomi quipped in return.
"A girl after my own heart - familiar with all the horror classics," Bill said, putting a hand over his heart as they reached the row of boxes.
There were two banker's boxes labeled "Christmas" with sharpie on duct tape across the sides and box tops. Beside it, there was a large white box with a picture of a Christmas tree plastered down the side.
"I'll get the tree," Tomi volunteered herself, and gestured to the remaining boxes. "Dad, Bill - these are all yours."
"I keep saying you ought to get a pick 'n cut at the lot in the suburbs," Karl began.
"Not today, I'm not," Tomi replied implacably, bending her knees and hoisting the tree box safely into her arms. "Unless you're volunteering?" She cocked a brow at him.
Karl chuckled and picked up one of the banker's boxes, brushing off the question and heading for the stairs.
She stood in the near-dark for a moment longer as Bill picked up his own box.
"What?" she said defensively as Bill turned with an inscrutable expression.
He shook his head, barely smiling as he moved to follow her father. "Better be careful, or you're headed for Grinch territory."
Tomi stared after him as he headed back toward the stairs. "First of all, that would require a dog, wouldn't it?" she exclaimed, and hastened to follow.
She hardly thought that it was Grinch-like of her to be somewhat reticent to jump into every last traditional holiday activity. In fact, considering her entire weekend was being radically disordered, she was pretty sure she was being gracious.
When she reached the living room after flipping lights off behind her and doing one last check for anything they might have missed, her father was already pulling strings of lights out of one of the boxes and Bill was standing in the middle of the living room looking like he'd been marooned at sea. The living room was already a mess to Tomi's meticulous eye. Bags were piled on one of the couches, and Tomi fretted over the size of it. Her parents were decently well off, but she was old enough that they shouldn't be buying her masses of presents anymore.
"There's ornaments and other assorted Christmas bric-a-brac in that other box, Bill," Tomi said, setting the tree box down and leaning it against the wall. The next phase would require some room rearrangement. "Dad - that whole box is lights, so I guess you can take it directly outside."
"Hold on there, Tomi - I've got to unwind the whole thing, plug it in-" Karl protested.
"I do that at the end of every Christmas season before I coil them up and drop them in the box, just like you taught me, Dad," Tomi replied patiently. "Maximum efficiency, remember? So there's no loose ends kicking around before the next Christmas."
Karl's chest puffed out. "True," he agreed, and picked the box up again. "We're a model of German efficiency."
Tomi snickered and moved to hold the door for him as he went outside with his armful.
"Tomi!" Mona's voice floated into the front of the house as she re-entered the living room. "Christmas music!"
"Oh, God," Tomi groaned, crumpling to her knees beside the tree box.
Bill looked up from the banker's box where he was carefully lifting out smaller boxes of ornaments labeled fragile. "I can get it," he offered, rising to his feet with a leggy grace that Tomi envied. She jogged regularly to keep her figure, but her knees ached too often for her to consider herself young and limber anymore.
Bill moved for the stereo, looking over his shoulder and raising a brow.
"Nothing too Christmasey," Tomi pleaded. "You can put on the Sinatra CD - she likes it, and there's no Christmas songs on that. I have to warm up toward carols; can't take them cold."
Bill merely chuckled and knelt beside the glass cabinet full of CDs.
With that sorted, Tomi turned her attention to the tree. She had an artificial one, which was to her mind more sensible and a great deal less fuss than the traditional sort. She could use it every year, it had already paid for itself a few Christmases back by virtue of not having to buy a fresh tree every year, it looked about the same once laden with ornaments and tinsel and lighting, and better yet, the pine-scented room spray that she used instead of the real thing didn't trigger her allergies.
"Let me help," Bill said, joining her on the carpet once the mellow strains of Sinatra filled the air. "Oh, you got the six-footer - is it easy to assemble?"
"Easy as fitting the peg into the slot," Tomi replied. She caught Bill's eyes; he didn't even smirk, but she found herself blushing.
Now Bill's lips curved in a cheerfully lecherous smile. "Well, I could do that all day long," he claimed.
"Oh, could you now?" Tomi replied, brows arching.
"Let's say that it comes naturally, and leave it at that," Bill returned.
Tomi pressed her lips together. Will not engage in sexual banter with Bill; will not engage in sexual banter with Bill, she told herself firmly, to prevent herself from taking the easy route and making a come joke.
Instead, she began unpacking the tree, handing pieces to him until she reached the tripod base. It was tall enough that it assembled in three sections, then all the branches were inserted into their slots - those were on wire, and their positions could be adjusted until an appropriately haphazard branch-like appearance was achieved.
They worked in silence for a moment, moving the front loveseat across the living room, getting the main stand assembled. Tomi glanced at Bill sidelong through her lashes a few times, and was grateful though somewhat puzzled to find Bill focused on his tasks on each occasion. There was no need to fill up the Sinatra-accented silence with idle chatter simply for the sake of speaking. They performed their tasks as though they had discussed them, each of them taking one side of the stand and reaching for longest branches first, to round out the base of the tree.
It was Tomi who dredged up a conversational tidbit at last, seizing onto something she'd remembered from earlier.
"So…your family, will you be seeing them this Christmas?" Tomi wondered, fitting a long branch into its peg and ducking to one side to avoid being whacked in the face.
Bill grunted and sorted through a pile of medium-sized branches. "No, not this year."
"Why not?" Tomi asked, and gave herself a little shake. "Uh, not that it's any of my business, and you don't have to answer."
Bill gave her an arch look. "What, my girlfriend doesn't have a right to ask questions?" He waved his hand before Tom could shoot back an answer to that. "It's not on the agenda for this year, that's all - they're going to be in Switzerland in a nice, cozy lodge; then skiing in Vail for New Year's, as far as I know. No big deal."
"And you?" Tom blurted, somewhat shocked by his casual attitude, the air of forced cheer. It seemed less that he wasn't concerned and more that he wanted her to believe it wasn't a big deal, that he wasn't hurt by it.
"Oh, there's no room for Bill on a trip to Switzerland, and I'm a big boy, right?" he replied, airy, and sent a brief look her way. Something on her face must have spoken of her outrage, because Bill shifted from that horrible forced cheer to something more serious. "Tomi, it's all right. It's hardly a tragedy."
"Yeah, but…being alone on Christmas…"
"Isn't more sad than being alone on any other day, especially if you're not Christian," Bill inserted into that space. "Which I'm not. It's fine. Besides, you're going to be alone, too, aren't you?"
Tom stared at her knees and carefully brushed off fake pine needles that had pulled loose during the assembly process. "They're here now," she replied. "I'm old enough, and not Christian enough, that it's more about family and togetherness than anything else. And they're making the effort to give that to me now."
"And you're very lucky," Bill said gently. "Not all families work that way. Anyhow, I'm sure I'll have something lovely from Signora Versace to comfort me in my cold apartment-"
Tom's eyes snapped to Bill's and an invitation sprang to her lips.
"We should hurry up and get this tree trimmed," she muttered instead, getting up to place the mid-length branches.
"Indeed," Bill replied, and rose to her feet once again with grace that Tomi noticed.
She was fairly certain she hadn't possessed that gathered grace, that restrained economy of muscle motion, even when she had been twenty-one.
Bill noticed her looking and waggled his eyebrows.
"How are your classes going?" Tomi asked him, shoving some branches toward his midsection with more force than was strictly necessary.
"They're - oof! - they're just fine, thanks, and don't do that," Bill complained.
"I'll be gentler with the next round," Tomi said.
"No, don't ask about my classes like some auntie at a family gathering," Bill replied. "Or I'll ask how your heap of paper-grading is coming along, Professor Kaulitz."
"Hunh," Tomi grunted, shrugging and focusing on placing the higher branches. "You never did take any of my classes."
"Yeah, there's a reason for that," Bill muttered under his breath.
"Huh?"
"Are you going for a color theme, or do we just want 'ornament box threw up a tinsel hairball?'" Bill said, changing the subject like a clunky manual transmission popping gears.
"I like to use all the ornaments; and it has a picturesque holiday appeal," Tomi replied with dignity.
By way of reply, Bill began to pull handful after handful of ancient popcorn garland out of the box, interspersed every fifth caramel-colored kernel with a poisonously red berry. His expression spoke horrified volumes. "And this?"
"I made it when I was eight!" Tomi protested. "It goes up every year…"
"And so does any food you may happen to eat in its vicinity," Bill returned with a delicate shudder.
"It's shellacked!" Tomi countered. "Perfectly safe-"
"Until someone gets hungry, forgets, and eats their way through the shellack to discover the mold within."
Tomi pursed her lips and waved that aside. "There's no kids in the house, Bill, unless you're counting yourself amongst that number."
Bill clutched at his heart and threw the popcorn garland in her direction. Tomi hurried forward to rescue it. Shellacked or not, she was worried that rough horseplay might destroy one of her childhood memories.
"I made this with my Oma, God rest her soul," Tomi said, bending a solemn expression on Bill.
"Oh, in that case, by all means, it goes on the tree," Bill said with a solemn blink. He bowed his head. "Very fine craftsmanship. She guided you to produce a timeless work of beauty."
"I'll be sure to let her know you said so when she calls me to wish me Merry Christmas," Tomi said, triumphant and threading the popcorn garland around the boughs.
"You…you tricked me!" Bill exclaimed, and descended upon her with loads of silver garland, making strangling motions.
Tomi shrieked and dropped the garland, ducking under Bill's arm and making a run for it around the coffee table. Bill gave chase, waving tassels of tinsel in her direction and making suitably growling noises.
"Stop it, we've got to get this done!" Tomi exclaimed, but didn't dare stop hurrying around the table for fear Bill would catch up to her - and she was unsure of his intentions.
"Hey, you started this," Bill replied, tossing a length of garland in her direction like he was trying to lasso her with it. "I'm the garland monster; now I'm going to overtake you and smother you in the spirit of Christmas! And tinsel."
Tomi shook her head, made another lap around the coffee table, and dug into the Christmas box for something to use in retaliation. She dredged out a case of balls wrapped in shiny red thread over foam cores and held one up, threatening. "Stop, or I'll launch the missiles," she warned him, keeping her feet moving as she faced him. She had a greater advantage - she was well-acquainted with the layout of the room.
Bill made a scoffing noise, but narrowed his eyes. "Oh, god, what are those?" he wondered aloud. "Will they stain?"
"Best not to find out," Tomi replied serenely. "Here it comes!" She cocked her arm back.
"Whatever; let's get this done," Bill said, and turned from the fray, stalking back to the tree with his armful of tinsel. "Did you want this on the tree now, or later?"
"Later's fine," Tomi replied. "Decorations first, then lights, then tinsel goes on last."
"Ah, very good," Bill said, and went back to the banker's box.
They hung an array of Christmas ornaments on the tree, Tomi picking and choosing to make sure her favorites faced the living room, where she would see them whenever she passed or curled up on the couch with a book or some papers to grade. She directed Bill to hang all the lesser-ranked ornaments facing the window, or at the bottom of the tree if they were too ugly for public display.
"Aw," Bill said, pulling out a very old ornament from the bottom of the box. "This one says Tomi's First Christmas, and the date is etched-whoa!"
Tomi snatched it out of his hands, hiding it against her bosom and glaring at him.
Bill coughed and rummaged through the box, a hint of color staining his high cheekbones. "No way," he whispered, as though to himself.
"So I'm old," she snapped, finding a safe hiding place for her very first Christmas ornament. "You want to make something of it?"
Bill returned from the box with a handful of glass ornaments dangling from his long fingers by the golden threads used to hang them from the tree. He wore a mild expression and cocked an inquiring dark brow. "I think you're the one making something of it," he replied. "It really doesn't matter to me."
"Hence the big reaction," Tom said with a wry twist of her lips.
"It was surprise," Bill said in a protesting tone. "If anything, that should flatter you-"
"Because you thought I was much closer to your age?" Tomi said, her tone descending into a dangerous register. "A more suitable age?" She wanted to bite her lip, hurt. If Bill had known she was facing off with thirty, would he have been as interested after all? Would he have asked her for that drink?
"That's not what I said, at all-" Bill began.
The front door slammed shut and both of them jumped, looking toward the hall as Karl returned, stamping snow off his boots.
"Ah, that's done the trick," he said happily, rubbing his gloved hands together. "Took me longer than I thought it would, but it looks like a proper Christmas card now. Tomi - we should go take pictures."
"No, dad, we don't need to-" Tomi objected.
"Come on, humor your old dad, will you?" Karl interrupted. "I put a lot of work into it. You can turn one of them into next year's Christmas card."
Tomi sighed, looked away from Bill's sympathetic eyes, and went to find her digital camera.
Part Two
Author: ???
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Genderswap; older woman/younger man
Summary: Mixed signals, an uncharacteristic one-night stand, and the sudden intrusion of an unplanned holiday dinner - complete with parents - puts Professor Tomi Kaulitz in a compromising situation. Her one-night stand is invited to stay like a member of the family, and over the course of the day they spend together, she finds him challenging her assumptions…and making an unexpectedly determined chase for her elusive heart.
Recipient: knw
Author's notes: All the trappings of holiday cheer, but none of the calories! Love and thanks to my beta-reader, my talented banner-maker, and my very dear pre-reader for putting up with me and all their help along the way. Thanks most of all to my recipient, for whom this was a pleasure to write.
One Fine Day
The warmth of sunlight crept across Tomi's face, making her nose twitch, and she pawed at the top edge of her bedclothes in a vain attempt to pull them higher and block out the light. The alarm hadn't yet gone off, which meant it was either too early, or given the angle of light heating up her face, it was a weekend - whichever it was, she could sleep a little later. She shifted in bed to aid in drawing up the duvet and found it stuck. Another tug revealed the obstruction to be unyielding. Her eyes flew open when a soft noise greeted that second attempt.
A handsome face, slack in repose, met her disbelieving gaze.
"Oh…" Tomi's mouth formed the word without speaking it aloud. Recognition and memory knitted together at the same time; it was Bill, the young barista who staffed the coffee stand in the building where Tomi conducted her classes.
Bill, the younger man who'd invited her out for drinks the night before, following one of Tomi's most horrendous days on record. Her guard had been down, and so she'd accepted his invitation as they left the building at the same time, he after closing the coffee stand, she after swimming through an ocean of term papers that left her bereft of faith in humanity. One drink had led to another, flirting had led to openly sexual banter…Bill, displaying a courtliness she hadn't expected, had offered to walk her home.
The rest of the night, try as she might to block it out in a vaguely alcoholic haze, was etched vividly in her waking memory. It had been good - too good. She was going to have a hard time kicking him out this morning.
Tomi drew her full lower lip into her mouth, contemplating Bill's features as her tongue flicked idly at the ring situated in the lower left corner of her lip. He was a gorgeous boy - young man, she amended in her thoughts. She recalled from their widely-rambling talks the night before that he was close to graduating, and he'd been twenty-one since well before the start of the school year. A soft fringe of black hair framed his oval face, which was accented by sharp, high cheekbones and a proud, mostly straight nose with an endearing snub at the tip. His brown eyes were faintly upturned, lending him an exotic air, helped along by his tendency to wear dark eyeliner and shadowy-smudged makeup.
He was the kind of boy Tomi would have been all over in college. Androgynous, inquisitive, quick-witted but solicitous in ways that didn't make Tomi snap at him for seeking to undercut her commitment to relationship equality.
She wanted to reach up and cup his cheek, enjoying his warmth. At the same time, Tomi knew she ought to pull away, roll out of bed and put some distance between them, grab her robe and go downstairs and make coffee. She couldn't afford to let either of them get attached. Waking up in bed with him, letting him catch her making goofy eyes at him, would send all the wrong signals.
Before she could move, a long, lean arm slung itself over her waist and drew her in close, making Tomi suck in a breath. Their noses brushed. She bit her lip harder, trying to avert her face before she sent a blast of morning breath Bill's way.
As she turned her head, she caught sight of Bill's dark eyes opening.
"Mm," Bill murmured, his voice a sleepy, pleased rumble even from that first syllable. "Morning."
His voice was scratchy, raspy - self-satisfied, even.
That alone made Tomi want to bristle and push at his chest. Any excuse would be a good excuse to put him at arm's length.
"M-morning," she faltered, and damned herself for the way her voice cracked. She was the elder - by a good eight years, she reminded herself. She ought to be able to manage the gentle put-down as she'd done before.
Bill's eyes crinkled up in the most incredible smile, his lips parting over even, white teeth, and Tomi found herself smiling back before she could come up with a following statement.
"I was a little worried," Bill said, his voice low and conversational, warming up from that scratchy rasp to his mellow tenor. "Part of me thought I'd wake up in bed alone - or with a cat."
"Ysabet doesn't sleep with me," Tomi returned, the response automatic, then she pulled in a breath as Bill's words brought a recollection back to her - they'd come in last night, shed their boots beside the door, and wound up on the couch for a lazy makeout session instead of the 'nightcap' she'd offered him. Ysabet had pushed her cold wet kitty nose into Bill's fingers when he'd dangled his arm off the couch.
"I've been thinking of you as a dog person," he had remarked, as Tomi expressed surprise that her standoffish cat had introduced herself in so forward a fashion.
"My lease doesn't allow them," Tomi had replied, making a little face. "Otherwise, I would."
Bill's eyes were still smiling at her, and Tomi blamed her scattered thoughts for the way she leaned in as he pushed their faces closer together, angled to the side, and moved in for a kiss.
They were already in bed together, their bodies tangled in greater intimacy than that which a kiss presented, she reasoned. What greater harm could there be in giving into this once more?
She turned her face to the side again, though, when his tongue moved over her lower lip.
"Why won't you let me?" Bill whispered, and Tomi wrinkled her nose.
"Need to brush my teeth first," she muttered back, sitting up and letting the sheet fall from her torso, unselfconscious about her nudity. What was the point, when Bill had already seen everything the night before?
"I don't mind," Bill began.
"I do," Tomi replied, sharper than she intended, but perhaps it was the opening wedge that she needed.
It was going to be awkward, she fretted on her way to the bathroom as she shuffled into her fleece-lined slippers and grabbed her robe from its habitual place draped over the foot over her bed. She saw Bill every day, or near to it - he staffed the coffee stand in her building, for crying out loud! What was she supposed to do from now on, pretend not to see him? Slip in through the rear door? The service entrance…now, there was an idea…
Wrapped up in thoughts of avoidance, Tomi jumped as a warm arm wrapped around her midsection and a kiss was pressed to her temple.
"I'm not sure if that's practical or neurotic," Bill informed her.
Tomi pulled away from him to glare, but before she could, Bill was continuing, "Is there someplace I can brush mine, or use yours after, or…" He shifted from one foot to the other, discomfort crossing his handsome face as he tugged at the waistband of the black boxer-briefs he must have donned straight out of bed.
"There's a bathroom down the hall," Tomi directed, pointing toward her bedroom door with her own toothbrush, soft bristles mounted on a plain orange handle with a rubber grip. "The linen closet is halfway between here and there on your right, and there are spare toothbrushes on the top shelf."
"Thanks," Bill said gratefully, and planted another quick kiss on the corner of her mouth that Tomi was too slow to anticipate, too flustered to avoid.
She watched his tight little arse bunch and release as he left the bedroom. He was so skinny she could see the muscles in his back and thighs flexing, too. It sent her into a brief, torrid recollection of Bill moving over her the night before, the way his biceps had jumped as he propped himself over her, his head back and mouth open when he'd…
Tomi snapped back to the present and stared at her blushing reflection in the mirror.
"Don't you dare," she warned herself sternly, and ran her toothbrush under a stream of water to moisten the bristles. She jabbed the toothbrush toward her reflection before applying a daub of toothpaste. "You're kicking him out after breakfast."
Perhaps after a quickie, then breakfast, Tomi thought but deliberately did not say aloud. That brought the prospect closer to reality than fantasy. Tomi was a believer in clear visualization as a technique to bring potential outcomes to life.
Still, she mused as she brushed her way around from one row of molars to the other, it would be a shame to have that much gorgeous, willing young man in her home and not indulge in what he was so clearly eager to provide. It wouldn't be leading him on. It would be the mutual satisfaction of two healthy libidos.
Rationalization was a tricky thing.
Tomi wandered out into the hallway in her slippers and robe, tightening the belt and tying it into a proper knot. She was a little surprised to hear the tub running when she went past, and it helped her to make the decision on whether to knock or go downstairs to make coffee.
As she put the kettle on and measured beans to pour into the grinder, she glanced over her shoulder when a knock at the front door reached her ears. Tomi ignored it at first, thinking it had to be the nosy neighbor from next door who occasionally came over on the pretext of borrowing a cup of sugar or half a liter of milk, until the second knock came. This one was an unmistakable rap, TOK-tok-tok-TOK-tok, and Tomi's brown eyes widened.
"Oh, no," she said, her stomach going sour. "No, no…"
Tomi checked the calendar beside her kitchen door before peeping through the archway that led down the front hall. There was still a good two weeks before Christmas, though there was snow on the ground and all the neighbors had long since hauled out their strings of garland or lights to bedeck front lawns and line their porches with requisite holiday cheer.
For a long, sinking moment she thought about not answering it, but the kitchen clock helpfully informed her it was early enough. Plus, her cell phone with its distinctive ringtone was on the front hall table, and if it was called after she failed to answer the door, it would betray her with its opening musical salutation.
"It's too early," Tomi groaned, meaning that in more than one sense. She hurried down the hallway, throwing the hall closet door wide open and rummaging until she found a housecoat that had been stowed there for half a year, destined for Goodwill. It would be too weird to answer the door in a robe with nothing under it, so this was her next best option. She jammed the housecoat over her shoulders, pulled it mostly closed, and went to answer the door, breathless.
"We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year," the couple on the front stoop caroled, their faces pressed together, pairs of faded blue and twinkling brown eyes fixed on Tomi the instant she pulled open the door.
"Mom, Dad," Tomi groaned, summoning up a weak smile. Glad as she was to see her parents, this had to be the worst timing on their part since she'd moved to a solo dorm and they'd dropped in on her when she was 'entertaining' - five of her closest college friends and three trays of vodka Jello shots. "You are way, way too early."
"Merry early Christmas!" her mother trilled, throwing her shoulders back and rattling a tall paper bag at her side. "We come bearing gifts."
"I'm taking your mom on a cruise for this Christmas," her father informed her, lifting a white plastic bag with a grocery logo blazoned on the side. "So we figured we'd stop by and give you all the trimmings a bit early, make sure you're not missing out all the best parts even if we're not with you this year."
Tomi's eyes rounded. "You should have called," she exclaimed, half-scolding, but helplessly pulled the door wider. She tightened her grip on the housecoat to keep the front shut enough to cover the essentials as she stepped back to permit her parents to pass.
"Oh, darling, it's Saturday!" her mother Mona exclaimed, breezing through the door, high-heeled boots clacking over the wooden floor before she reached the runner that extended down the front hall. She patted Tomi's cheek as she continued, "I know how you like to sleep in, but surely you don't begrudge your parents a little visit before they go away for fourteen days out of country."
"Yes, but…I might have plans," Tomi replied, trying not to glance at the staircase.
Her father Karl closed the door with his foot, shaking his grocery bag and arching his thick, iron gray brows at her. "There's more where this came from," he informed her. "Your mother and I stopped and got a fresh roast, too. We'll put together a great dinner between the three of us, with all the trimmings…"
"Oh, no," Tomi mumbled before she could stop herself, trailing forlornly after her parents as they bustled right into the kitchen and made themselves at home.
How were they to know today was different from any other day they might stop by? Her parents lived about an hour's drive away, but Tomi lived right atop a major city, and her parents lived in the outskirts of the far suburbs. It wasn't too unusual for them to stop at her place on their way to or from some event or other in the city. Her routine had been pretty well established for the past few years; go on a slight binge on Friday nights, sleep in on Saturdays, grade more papers, do some light housework, call her parents…in fact, it could be fairly said that she was a creature of habit.
"I, I'm really not prepared to entertain-" Tomi began, doing her best to formulate some kind of excuse to get them out of the house for fifteen minutes so that she could get rid of Bill.
It was a cutting, even cruel thought, but she had to get him out of the house before her parents saw and made the wrong assumptions.
Or, worse, the right ones.
"So, go and put some clothes on!" Mona exclaimed, unfazed. "I know where the coffee is and your father can put some Christmas music on the stereo before he fetches the rest of the groceries - let's get this day-long party started, dear!"
"No, Mom, I just need to-" Tomi began. Part of her hoped Bill would come far enough down the staircase to realize what was happening, and sneak down the back staircase and out the door. She supposed she ought to seize her mother's suggestion and go up the stairs and ask him to do that very thing. Any thought of the prospect of an encore vanished under the weight of disposing of the evidence of her previous night's tryst; there was no more time to spare feelings.
"Did someone say party?" a masculine tenor interrupted.
Tomi huddled into her housecoat and bit her lip, eyes going wide. She couldn't even bring herself to look to her right as an arm draped over her shoulders, in as familiar a manner as Bill had been with her last night.
Bill was dressed in his jeans and loose dark gray sweater, which draped artfully off one shoulder to expose the strap of a black tank top. His shoulder-length layered black hair was brushed and immaculate and his face was makeup-free that morning, and it was perhaps even more striking for the contrast from the smudged dark eyeshadow that Tomi remembered from the night before.
"Oh," Mona said brightly. "Who is this?" Her blue eyes were lively with curiosity and Tomi wanted nothing more than to turn and concede the field, fleeing upstairs.
She couldn't let Bill stay and explain himself, however.
"Um," Tomi replied, and she couldn't let it stand at that. "This is Bill Trümper, Mom, Dad; Bill…these are my parents, Mona and Karl Kaulitz. Umm…Bill is…"
She gulped, looked to her right, and was astonished by Bill's attentive expression. His brown eyes gazed right back into hers. It let her know he was going to back her up, no matter what she said. There was a faint, resigned cast to his mouth that Tomi read as his understanding of an imminent dismissal.
"…my boyfriend," Tomi blurted, and caught her lip between her teeth. She poked nervously at her lip-ring as she stared at her parents, horrified with herself. She knew why she'd done it, though. Independent and fiercely devoted to women's lib as she was, within the layers of Tomi's outer shells forged by years of standing up for herself and demonstrating female equality resided a girl who was vulnerable to her parents' criticisms, and eager to please them.
In short, she loved her parents and didn't want to let them down. Introducing them to a one-night stand before summarily kicking him out the door when they'd come to bring her tidings and joy, albeit two weeks early, would be a big letdown for everyone.
Bill's fingers squeezed her shoulder and Tomi cut her eyes in his direction, letting him know without words that he'd better not push it.
"Your boyfriend," Mona picked up on the word joyfully and at once. "I'll make coffee for four, then."
Tomi offered up a weak grimace in lieu of a smile.
"Tomi," Karl spoke up, sounding somewhat stern. "Why haven't we heard about this boyfriend of yours? We'd have definitely called if we'd known we might be disturbing you."
A squeak came out of Tomi's mouth as she absorbed what he surely meant by 'disturbing.' It probably disturbed her more than them, the prospect they might be imagining her with a sex life now.
"It's a very recent relationship," Bill replied smoothly. "I totally understand Tomi wanting to wait and make sure we were going to be together past the first few dates before offering to introduce me."
Tomi shut her mouth and nodded, sagging against Bill for a second in the extremity of her relief. "I'll go and get dressed," she said, and cast a look over her shoulder on her way to the stairs, imploring with her eyes for Bill to be good and behave himself with her parents.
He flashed her an impish grin in response that did nothing to quell her anxiety, but it did touch off a frenzy of twitterpated wings beating their way uncomfortably through her middle.
Upstairs, she did two things quickly. She checked her guest bathroom on the way down the hall, and discovered that Bill had left it in immaculate condition, though a lingering imprint of shower steam remained upon the air. In her own bedroom, she hastily threw on clothes and checked her reflection in the mirror, daubing on rose-tinted lip gloss and the barest minimum of mascara - nothing more than she typically wore. She was worried about leaving Bill alone for too long with her parents, though for whose sake that was, she remained unsure.
She descended the stairs clad in a black cable-knit sweater covered in diamond patterning, worn close enough to the skin that it made Tomi tug at it self-consciously but she overrode that because she knew how good it looked on her. She was tall, slim-hipped but curvy, and tended to wear clothes a size or two too big unless she was dressing to impress - something she'd done more often after graduating from her master's. She donned a matching black band to keep her dreads off her face, and wore simple khaki cargos, loose and unpressed, still somewhat rumpled, over a pair of fleece-lined clogs. It was cold enough in the kitchen that she didn't go barefoot even though she preferred it.
Even spending that bare amount of time on a getting-ready routine threw her into a quiet panic and she descended the stairs hastily, a million questions swarming through her head over what Bill must be telling her parents - or what they might be telling him. She didn't bother to ask herself why it might matter, if she would be dumping the poor boy by day's end.
"Mom, Dad, I'm sure Bill has a lot of things on his plate today," Tomi launched into a hastily-prepared spiel as she breezed through the door, heading straight for Bill. She took his arm in preparation to tow him bodily from the room. He was taller by a few inches, but she was pretty sure she was more determined. "So, we ought to let him finish his coffee and get on his way…" Out of the way, she'd nearly caught herself saying.
Her parents turned astonished faces on her while Bill brought his coffee mug up to his mouth, hiding half his face while he gave her abashed eyes.
"We invited him to dinner, of course, Tomi," Mona said, leaning back against the kitchen counter and folding her arms. "We haven't been introduced to a boyfriend of yours in ages…"
"Years," Karl picked up the thread. "So of course we're going to do our best to see you hang onto this one. We'll fill him up with a proper meal. You both look like you could stand to eat - skinny as usual, Tomi; hasn't your mother been inviting you over for dinner lately?"
Tomi groaned and clung to Bill's arm like a life raft. "I'm within an acceptable body-mass index ratio for my height-"
"Tomi's body is perfect," Bill interrupted, and took a sip of his coffee. "I certainly wouldn't change anything about her. As for me, I've been naturally rake-thin since I was a kid; I've always had trouble putting on weight."
"It makes anyone with a motherly eye think you're overfed, dear," Mona said fondly. "Let us feed you tonight. I make a great roast!"
Bill bit his lip and looked over at Tomi, his eyes going huge again.
"Bill's vegetarian, Mom," Tomi said with a sigh. She had those tendencies herself, but still found herself accepting a slice or two of roast during the holidays.
"Oh!" Mona looked startled. "Well, nothing wrong with that. I make a delicious bean casserole, and roasted beets, and sweet potatoes…"
"I love all of those things," Bill said graciously.
"Yes, but you can't stay," Tomi insisted. She faced her mother. "Really, he can't stay."
"It's Saturday," Mona said, waving a hand. "Plenty enough time to get on with homework after we leave."
"I really don't have much this weekend, but it's all right, Mr. and Mrs. Kaulitz - I'm sure Tomi wants to spend time alone with you, and I don't want to get in the way…" Bill demurred.
Tomi began to turn a triumphant smile in her mother's direction, but Mona was already plowing onward.
"Nonsense, there's more than enough food for four people, and you'll prevent us from having so many leftovers. Besides, Karl and I would love to get the opportunity to get to know you, Bill," Mona said, and gave Tomi a dire look to silence her. "Not another word from either of you. If Bill doesn't have any plans, he's staying."
Tomi opened her mouth.
"I don't have any plans," Bill said, sounding meek.
Tomi clamped her mouth shut, biting down on her lip. She wished it weren't far too obvious to grind her foot down on Bill's instep as a means of behavioral correction.
"But only if it's all right with Tomi," Bill continued, surprising her.
Tomi blinked as all eyes turned in her direction, putting her on the spot. She wanted to say no, of course; the word was already rising up within her. She ought to say no, even - it was unbearably awkward to have Bill stand in as her boyfriend and it was silly to lead her parents on in such a manner even if Bill had already guessed she'd intended to basically push him out the front door and never see him again.
It wasn't Mona's hopeful eyes or even Karl's expectant head-tilt that decided her. She looked in Bill's direction, and his brown eyes were guileless. He meant what he said. If Tomi said she wasn't all right with it, he would bid them all goodbye and walk out the door; she could sense it.
That made her wonder, for an instant, whether they weren't more compatible than she'd assumed.
"If Bill wants to," Tomi said slowly, gazing right back into his steady, warm eyes.
He broke into such a radiant smile that her own lips tugged upward in response. "It's been such a long time since I've had a home-cooked meal, you don't even know," he enthused.
"Right," Tomi said slowly. "Because your parents live all the way in New York…" There were a few facts about Bill that she could recall from the night before. They had talked about anything and everything, their topics varying from the classical literature that Tomi taught in her undergraduate classes to the up and coming models in the fashion shows that Bill admired.
Bill's grin turned impish. "Beyond that, the fact that my mother is a terrible cook," he replied, tone teasing.
"Then it's settled!" Mona exclaimed, clapping her hands and seeming overjoyed. "Karl and I will be right back, darling - we're going to get the rest of the bags from the trunk. Keep the coffee warm!"
Tomi turned from uncomfortably long contemplation of Bill's handsome face as that remark sank in. "Mom," she protested. "How much did you bring? You know you're not feeding the whole family tree, right? Just this one branch."
Mona ignored that and snagged her husband's arm on the way out. "Going to need your help, Karl, so put that coffee down."
In the wake of Hurricane Mona, the kitchen was briefly silent. Bill disengaged his arm from hers and rubbed at his neck, looking abashed.
"Bill," Tomi began, rubbing her hand over her thigh and putting some distance between their bodies. It wasn't that touching Bill or being so close to him made her uncomfortable. Rather, she thought she could get too comfortable with it. She moved toward the coffee and grabbed the silver thermal urn, hefting it to check the liquid level. There was enough if it was only her drinking, but she considered brewing another batch.
"I know, I'm sorry for imposing," Bill said, sounding repentant.
When Tomi turned with her mug of coffee in hand, he was biting his lip and looking terribly young. She wanted to sigh and give him a hug - before gently shooing him out of her life. He was about five years too young, at least, to get involved with someone in her age bracket.
"You don't have family around here, do you?" she wondered aloud, taking a sip of her coffee and fitting her other arm across her front.
Bill gave her a slow blink. "No, they're all in New York, or scattered up and down the East Coast."
"Then, stay with us," Tomi decided. Now that she had her pretext secured, she could afford to extend the offer in the spirit of generosity.
It wasn't because she wanted to keep seeing Bill, or because she wanted her parents to believe she actually had a social life for a change. God forbid.
"You're sure?" Bill prompted. "I mean, I could kind of tell you didn't intend for me to stay that much longer. If I'd come out of the bathroom to find my clothes piled outside the door-"
"I wouldn't have done that!" Tomi protested, shocked. "I…was I really that bad?"
Bill's mouth twitched. "No, but I could tell you weren't comfortable."
"Only because I…I don't do that very often," Tomi admitted, shoulders slumping.
Bill's eyebrow twitched upward. "Not to imply there's anything wrong with it, but you're an attractive-"
Tomi cut that off at the pass. "I intended for you to stay and have breakfast, at the very least," she admitted, taking it for the lesser of two evils in terms of disclosure. She didn't want to confess to having entertained thoughts of a second round.
"Oh, really?" Bill challenged. He swirled his coffee mug, maintaining eye contact with her.
"Yes, and I make damn good waffles," Tomi replied, smug about it. She bit her tongue before she could say I guess you'll never know, because she didn't want to see Bill's face fall.
"Then, as long as you're okay with it," Bill said, appearing more at ease.
Tomi nodded. "I didn't think what position I'd be putting you into, though," she said, dipping her chin and gazing into the depths of her own coffee mug. "It's not fair to you, to ask you to play boyfriend all day."
Bill's eyes were dark when Tomi looked up. He held her gaze in silence, and she wanted to take a step back when he moved forward, but the counter was already pressing into the backs of her hip-bones.
"Tomi," he murmured, close enough to put a hand on her shoulder, but he didn't reach for her. "Who says I couldn't be?"
Startled, Tomi opened her mouth to let him know that play-acting for the day was all that could come out of this.
The front door creaked open. "Back, and my goodness, have we got some goodies!" Mona trilled.
Tomi licked her lip, averting her eyes. She glanced through the archway that led to the front hall, and shivered as Bill did touch her now, resting his long-fingered hand on her shoulder.
"Hey," Bill said, soft enough to avoid being overheard. "Let me know if you're not okay with something, all right? I know it'll probably be awkward enough for you. So just-"
"How, some kind of secret password? Should I step on your foot?" Tomi inquired sarcastically.
Bill's generous mouth quirked. "Call me 'Billy,'" he suggested baldly. "It'll get my attention, and I hate it. So it'll let me know you hate something."
Tomi nodded slowly and her eyes flicked to his hand.
"Too much already?" Bill said with a low chuckle, stepping back and letting his hand drop to his side.
Tomi shook her head. "It's fine," she said, and shrugged. "We should touch casually, you know? Boyfriend, girlfriend." She gave him a tight smile and left his side to go to the front hallway.
An indeterminate grunt came from behind her, but Tomi ignored it in favor of investigating the overly loud rustling coming from the front hallway.
"Mo-ther!" Tomi protested, eyes bugging wide as she took in the large number of bags that were weighing her parents down. "Did you bring the kitchen sink, too, or-"
Bill was brushing past her with a brief pat to her shoulder. "Mrs. Kaulitz, let me help," he told her, approaching from the side and holding a hand out.
"No need, darling," Mona told him, piling three onto him anyhow. She turned a flawless smile on Tomi. "Groceries and presents, dear! And Dad has some cookies, of course. We'll have some mulled wine, Grandpa's Christmas recipe, snack while we get the food together…"
Her father turned from the front hallway to enter the living room and paused on the threshold. "Tomi," he said, turning a disappointed look on her. "No tree?"
Tomi grimaced and crossed her arms. "It's not like I've had much time lately, dad - end of term is coming up and there are papers to grade, final exams to prepare…"
"It's true, she's been busy," Bill contributed, flashing her a bracing smile as he went past her with his armful of bags.
Tomi stood in the middle of her kitchen and contemplated its unaccustomed invasion. She did have papers to grade, still; she wouldn't have anything to do on Christmas Day at this rate.
"That sounds like a great project for you and Bill, then!" Mona said brightly. "Karl, dear, drop those bags of presents in the living room and come join me, will you? Ooh, unless you want to string some lights out front…"
"Mom, really, that's not necessary-"
"Your neighbors will think you have no holiday cheer!" Mona exclaimed, hoisting her grocery bags and turning from the counter with a familiar stubborn look.
Tomi felt that obdurate expression crossing her own face often enough, but she knew she'd lose this particular battle.
"It will only take a few minutes; your dad knows what he's doing," Mona continued. She transferred her attention to the tall, thin young man beside her, appealing to him. "Bill?"
"I'm staying out of this one," Bill claimed, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"All right, then unscrew the big white thermos for me, dear," she said, and faced off with Tomi. "You've got the Christmas things in the basement, I assume?"
"Yes," Tomi replied, slumping her shoulders.
"I'd love it if you and Bill would decorate your tree," Mona said earnestly, coming closer and appearing on the verge of gathering Tomi into a spontaneous hug. "It makes me sad that we can't be here with you on Christmas Day in the first day in…I can't remember how long!"
"I'm a grown woman, Mom," Tomi protested.
"True," Mona said, chucking Tomi's chin until she backed away, glaring.
"And I don't care what the neighbors think…" Tomi continued.
"Don't you care what your mother thinks, either?" Mona said mournfully.
Tomi blinked. She had fallen rather neatly into that trap. "Mom," she began.
"That's settled, then," Mona said, turning for the bags of groceries and beginning to rummage through them. "I'll have the mulled wine waiting for you all when you get back."
"It's a little early in the day for that…" Bill demurred.
Tomi took him by the elbow and towed him out of the kitchen. "Believe me," she muttered, "you're going to need it."
Bill made an inquisitive noise that she ignored, because she'd reached the hallway where her father stood looking around.
"No Christmas decorations at all," he said, not in an accusing way whatsoever, but somewhat forlorn.
"I don't tend to put many up," Tomi said in response, dipping a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Sometimes I get the tree up the weekend before Christmas, but it's not usually a top priority." She gave him apologetic eyes as she turned the corner to the door beside the stairs that led down into the basement.
It was a nice little house, not roomy but comfortable, and best of all the price had been right when Tomi signed the lease. It had room enough for all her things and a bit more to stow away in rotation. She kept boxes in the basement, neatly labeled by season; as well as a few boxes of trim and decoration that were kept on wooden scaffold-style shelving pushed against the far wall. A single naked bulb illuminated their path as they trooped through the shadowed spaces.
"Perfect set-up for a horror movie," Bill observed, close enough to breathe down the back of her neck.
"We won't be re-enacting Black Christmas," Tomi quipped in return.
"A girl after my own heart - familiar with all the horror classics," Bill said, putting a hand over his heart as they reached the row of boxes.
There were two banker's boxes labeled "Christmas" with sharpie on duct tape across the sides and box tops. Beside it, there was a large white box with a picture of a Christmas tree plastered down the side.
"I'll get the tree," Tomi volunteered herself, and gestured to the remaining boxes. "Dad, Bill - these are all yours."
"I keep saying you ought to get a pick 'n cut at the lot in the suburbs," Karl began.
"Not today, I'm not," Tomi replied implacably, bending her knees and hoisting the tree box safely into her arms. "Unless you're volunteering?" She cocked a brow at him.
Karl chuckled and picked up one of the banker's boxes, brushing off the question and heading for the stairs.
She stood in the near-dark for a moment longer as Bill picked up his own box.
"What?" she said defensively as Bill turned with an inscrutable expression.
He shook his head, barely smiling as he moved to follow her father. "Better be careful, or you're headed for Grinch territory."
Tomi stared after him as he headed back toward the stairs. "First of all, that would require a dog, wouldn't it?" she exclaimed, and hastened to follow.
She hardly thought that it was Grinch-like of her to be somewhat reticent to jump into every last traditional holiday activity. In fact, considering her entire weekend was being radically disordered, she was pretty sure she was being gracious.
When she reached the living room after flipping lights off behind her and doing one last check for anything they might have missed, her father was already pulling strings of lights out of one of the boxes and Bill was standing in the middle of the living room looking like he'd been marooned at sea. The living room was already a mess to Tomi's meticulous eye. Bags were piled on one of the couches, and Tomi fretted over the size of it. Her parents were decently well off, but she was old enough that they shouldn't be buying her masses of presents anymore.
"There's ornaments and other assorted Christmas bric-a-brac in that other box, Bill," Tomi said, setting the tree box down and leaning it against the wall. The next phase would require some room rearrangement. "Dad - that whole box is lights, so I guess you can take it directly outside."
"Hold on there, Tomi - I've got to unwind the whole thing, plug it in-" Karl protested.
"I do that at the end of every Christmas season before I coil them up and drop them in the box, just like you taught me, Dad," Tomi replied patiently. "Maximum efficiency, remember? So there's no loose ends kicking around before the next Christmas."
Karl's chest puffed out. "True," he agreed, and picked the box up again. "We're a model of German efficiency."
Tomi snickered and moved to hold the door for him as he went outside with his armful.
"Tomi!" Mona's voice floated into the front of the house as she re-entered the living room. "Christmas music!"
"Oh, God," Tomi groaned, crumpling to her knees beside the tree box.
Bill looked up from the banker's box where he was carefully lifting out smaller boxes of ornaments labeled fragile. "I can get it," he offered, rising to his feet with a leggy grace that Tomi envied. She jogged regularly to keep her figure, but her knees ached too often for her to consider herself young and limber anymore.
Bill moved for the stereo, looking over his shoulder and raising a brow.
"Nothing too Christmasey," Tomi pleaded. "You can put on the Sinatra CD - she likes it, and there's no Christmas songs on that. I have to warm up toward carols; can't take them cold."
Bill merely chuckled and knelt beside the glass cabinet full of CDs.
With that sorted, Tomi turned her attention to the tree. She had an artificial one, which was to her mind more sensible and a great deal less fuss than the traditional sort. She could use it every year, it had already paid for itself a few Christmases back by virtue of not having to buy a fresh tree every year, it looked about the same once laden with ornaments and tinsel and lighting, and better yet, the pine-scented room spray that she used instead of the real thing didn't trigger her allergies.
"Let me help," Bill said, joining her on the carpet once the mellow strains of Sinatra filled the air. "Oh, you got the six-footer - is it easy to assemble?"
"Easy as fitting the peg into the slot," Tomi replied. She caught Bill's eyes; he didn't even smirk, but she found herself blushing.
Now Bill's lips curved in a cheerfully lecherous smile. "Well, I could do that all day long," he claimed.
"Oh, could you now?" Tomi replied, brows arching.
"Let's say that it comes naturally, and leave it at that," Bill returned.
Tomi pressed her lips together. Will not engage in sexual banter with Bill; will not engage in sexual banter with Bill, she told herself firmly, to prevent herself from taking the easy route and making a come joke.
Instead, she began unpacking the tree, handing pieces to him until she reached the tripod base. It was tall enough that it assembled in three sections, then all the branches were inserted into their slots - those were on wire, and their positions could be adjusted until an appropriately haphazard branch-like appearance was achieved.
They worked in silence for a moment, moving the front loveseat across the living room, getting the main stand assembled. Tomi glanced at Bill sidelong through her lashes a few times, and was grateful though somewhat puzzled to find Bill focused on his tasks on each occasion. There was no need to fill up the Sinatra-accented silence with idle chatter simply for the sake of speaking. They performed their tasks as though they had discussed them, each of them taking one side of the stand and reaching for longest branches first, to round out the base of the tree.
It was Tomi who dredged up a conversational tidbit at last, seizing onto something she'd remembered from earlier.
"So…your family, will you be seeing them this Christmas?" Tomi wondered, fitting a long branch into its peg and ducking to one side to avoid being whacked in the face.
Bill grunted and sorted through a pile of medium-sized branches. "No, not this year."
"Why not?" Tomi asked, and gave herself a little shake. "Uh, not that it's any of my business, and you don't have to answer."
Bill gave her an arch look. "What, my girlfriend doesn't have a right to ask questions?" He waved his hand before Tom could shoot back an answer to that. "It's not on the agenda for this year, that's all - they're going to be in Switzerland in a nice, cozy lodge; then skiing in Vail for New Year's, as far as I know. No big deal."
"And you?" Tom blurted, somewhat shocked by his casual attitude, the air of forced cheer. It seemed less that he wasn't concerned and more that he wanted her to believe it wasn't a big deal, that he wasn't hurt by it.
"Oh, there's no room for Bill on a trip to Switzerland, and I'm a big boy, right?" he replied, airy, and sent a brief look her way. Something on her face must have spoken of her outrage, because Bill shifted from that horrible forced cheer to something more serious. "Tomi, it's all right. It's hardly a tragedy."
"Yeah, but…being alone on Christmas…"
"Isn't more sad than being alone on any other day, especially if you're not Christian," Bill inserted into that space. "Which I'm not. It's fine. Besides, you're going to be alone, too, aren't you?"
Tom stared at her knees and carefully brushed off fake pine needles that had pulled loose during the assembly process. "They're here now," she replied. "I'm old enough, and not Christian enough, that it's more about family and togetherness than anything else. And they're making the effort to give that to me now."
"And you're very lucky," Bill said gently. "Not all families work that way. Anyhow, I'm sure I'll have something lovely from Signora Versace to comfort me in my cold apartment-"
Tom's eyes snapped to Bill's and an invitation sprang to her lips.
"We should hurry up and get this tree trimmed," she muttered instead, getting up to place the mid-length branches.
"Indeed," Bill replied, and rose to her feet once again with grace that Tomi noticed.
She was fairly certain she hadn't possessed that gathered grace, that restrained economy of muscle motion, even when she had been twenty-one.
Bill noticed her looking and waggled his eyebrows.
"How are your classes going?" Tomi asked him, shoving some branches toward his midsection with more force than was strictly necessary.
"They're - oof! - they're just fine, thanks, and don't do that," Bill complained.
"I'll be gentler with the next round," Tomi said.
"No, don't ask about my classes like some auntie at a family gathering," Bill replied. "Or I'll ask how your heap of paper-grading is coming along, Professor Kaulitz."
"Hunh," Tomi grunted, shrugging and focusing on placing the higher branches. "You never did take any of my classes."
"Yeah, there's a reason for that," Bill muttered under his breath.
"Huh?"
"Are you going for a color theme, or do we just want 'ornament box threw up a tinsel hairball?'" Bill said, changing the subject like a clunky manual transmission popping gears.
"I like to use all the ornaments; and it has a picturesque holiday appeal," Tomi replied with dignity.
By way of reply, Bill began to pull handful after handful of ancient popcorn garland out of the box, interspersed every fifth caramel-colored kernel with a poisonously red berry. His expression spoke horrified volumes. "And this?"
"I made it when I was eight!" Tomi protested. "It goes up every year…"
"And so does any food you may happen to eat in its vicinity," Bill returned with a delicate shudder.
"It's shellacked!" Tomi countered. "Perfectly safe-"
"Until someone gets hungry, forgets, and eats their way through the shellack to discover the mold within."
Tomi pursed her lips and waved that aside. "There's no kids in the house, Bill, unless you're counting yourself amongst that number."
Bill clutched at his heart and threw the popcorn garland in her direction. Tomi hurried forward to rescue it. Shellacked or not, she was worried that rough horseplay might destroy one of her childhood memories.
"I made this with my Oma, God rest her soul," Tomi said, bending a solemn expression on Bill.
"Oh, in that case, by all means, it goes on the tree," Bill said with a solemn blink. He bowed his head. "Very fine craftsmanship. She guided you to produce a timeless work of beauty."
"I'll be sure to let her know you said so when she calls me to wish me Merry Christmas," Tomi said, triumphant and threading the popcorn garland around the boughs.
"You…you tricked me!" Bill exclaimed, and descended upon her with loads of silver garland, making strangling motions.
Tomi shrieked and dropped the garland, ducking under Bill's arm and making a run for it around the coffee table. Bill gave chase, waving tassels of tinsel in her direction and making suitably growling noises.
"Stop it, we've got to get this done!" Tomi exclaimed, but didn't dare stop hurrying around the table for fear Bill would catch up to her - and she was unsure of his intentions.
"Hey, you started this," Bill replied, tossing a length of garland in her direction like he was trying to lasso her with it. "I'm the garland monster; now I'm going to overtake you and smother you in the spirit of Christmas! And tinsel."
Tomi shook her head, made another lap around the coffee table, and dug into the Christmas box for something to use in retaliation. She dredged out a case of balls wrapped in shiny red thread over foam cores and held one up, threatening. "Stop, or I'll launch the missiles," she warned him, keeping her feet moving as she faced him. She had a greater advantage - she was well-acquainted with the layout of the room.
Bill made a scoffing noise, but narrowed his eyes. "Oh, god, what are those?" he wondered aloud. "Will they stain?"
"Best not to find out," Tomi replied serenely. "Here it comes!" She cocked her arm back.
"Whatever; let's get this done," Bill said, and turned from the fray, stalking back to the tree with his armful of tinsel. "Did you want this on the tree now, or later?"
"Later's fine," Tomi replied. "Decorations first, then lights, then tinsel goes on last."
"Ah, very good," Bill said, and went back to the banker's box.
They hung an array of Christmas ornaments on the tree, Tomi picking and choosing to make sure her favorites faced the living room, where she would see them whenever she passed or curled up on the couch with a book or some papers to grade. She directed Bill to hang all the lesser-ranked ornaments facing the window, or at the bottom of the tree if they were too ugly for public display.
"Aw," Bill said, pulling out a very old ornament from the bottom of the box. "This one says Tomi's First Christmas, and the date is etched-whoa!"
Tomi snatched it out of his hands, hiding it against her bosom and glaring at him.
Bill coughed and rummaged through the box, a hint of color staining his high cheekbones. "No way," he whispered, as though to himself.
"So I'm old," she snapped, finding a safe hiding place for her very first Christmas ornament. "You want to make something of it?"
Bill returned from the box with a handful of glass ornaments dangling from his long fingers by the golden threads used to hang them from the tree. He wore a mild expression and cocked an inquiring dark brow. "I think you're the one making something of it," he replied. "It really doesn't matter to me."
"Hence the big reaction," Tom said with a wry twist of her lips.
"It was surprise," Bill said in a protesting tone. "If anything, that should flatter you-"
"Because you thought I was much closer to your age?" Tomi said, her tone descending into a dangerous register. "A more suitable age?" She wanted to bite her lip, hurt. If Bill had known she was facing off with thirty, would he have been as interested after all? Would he have asked her for that drink?
"That's not what I said, at all-" Bill began.
The front door slammed shut and both of them jumped, looking toward the hall as Karl returned, stamping snow off his boots.
"Ah, that's done the trick," he said happily, rubbing his gloved hands together. "Took me longer than I thought it would, but it looks like a proper Christmas card now. Tomi - we should go take pictures."
"No, dad, we don't need to-" Tomi objected.
"Come on, humor your old dad, will you?" Karl interrupted. "I put a lot of work into it. You can turn one of them into next year's Christmas card."
Tomi sighed, looked away from Bill's sympathetic eyes, and went to find her digital camera.
Part Two