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Chapter 13
- HARRIS -
As I stand in the cold next to my fellow baritones, who, for the record, are every bit as tone deaf as I am, I can’t help wondering what the hell happened that brought me to this point in my life.
I mean,Christmas caroling?
Before Ava, I would have said that any guy who goes caroling is destined to have his man-card revoked.
But… then Ava happened.
And I’m realizing that the end goal of spending time with her is even worth the utter humiliation of trying to singChestnuts Roasting on an Open Fireas myownnuts are freezing.
I glance toward our much larger soprano section and send her a look—a look that I’m hoping tells her that after this, I have every intention of taking her home and having the same spine-tingling kind of sex that we enjoyed last night.
From the way her eyes practically sizzle as she looks at me right now, I’m thinking we’re on the same page.
As my gaze retreats from hers, I catch a pointed glare from someone named Charlisa, who seems to hate me for some indeterminate reason.
But all the other women have an entirely different reaction to my presence here, unabashedly flirting with me even though I’m standing right next to their husbands here in the baritone section.
This neighborhood has the strangest social dynamic.
Still, I can’t quite complain—and not just because I get to be with Ava.
Being in the military, I’ve always felt a sense of community from my comrades and their families.
Butthiskind of community—it feels different somehow, and oddly intriguing to a guy who’s always been moving or traveling because of work.
In the military, it’s a heritage, a commitment that we share.And it defies borders or miles.It doesn’t matter where you’re stationed or whether you’re active, retired, or a veteran who only wore the uniform for a few years out of your life.You’re part of that community regardless.
But here, community means a place, a home, a safe space to grow a family.And traditions like this one I’m taking part in right now.
It makes me wish that I hadn’t been away so much with this job.I would have loved to see the kids showing off their decorated bikes in the little parade that happens on my street on Independence Day.I would have even flipped burgers at the end-of-summer barbecue or served pizza at the Halloween party they apparently throw each year before the kids go trick-or-treating.
I would have done it all, despite the fact that I don’t have a family here myself—just because I’ve always prided myself on trying new things.And sometimes, I suppose, those things don’t have to include parachutes, SCUBA gear, or repelling equipment.
We ring a final doorbell on the longest street that slices through our small neighborhood, sing a few songs, and then the moment the last note is complete and the door shuts, Ava announces, “Well, I’m headed home.”
“You’re not coming to the afterparty at Mira and Todd’s?”the woman named Charlisa asks her, sending her a suspicious look.
“Not this time, thanks.”
Mira laughs.“Charlisa, I don’t think egg nog at my house quite classifies as an afterparty.”
“Hey…” Todd tells his wife, feigning offense.
“How about I walk you home, Ava?”I ask, seeing what possibly might be my only opportunity for escape.
“That would be great.Thanks.”
“Hey, Harris!You coming back to Mira’s after?Clint brought some microbrews back from Old Town,” Todd says, followed by a chorus of agreement from the other guys in our group.
The reaction doesn’t surprise me.Guys like these ones always like to talk to men like me; they think I’m living out their G.I.Joe fantasy or something.
“Thanks, man, but no.I’m ready to call it a night.”
“You’re welcome to join us anytime,” a woman follows up, just flirtatiously enough to make me chuckle a little when her husband rolls his eyes.
