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Once Steve had recovered from his latest indignity, Nick paid for the pearls with Jazz’s credit card, though she made sure to call Gray first to warn him about their “recent expenditures.” On the way home, he made Jazz stop at a nearly deserted tree farm and grabbed a small Charlie Brown-sized one for his bedroom. Gray had dragged in one for them earlier in the month and it loomed large in the living room, and Jazz had added a ton of decorations to the windows and around the mantle, but the rest of the house was largely undecorated.
He was no dummy. Christmas lights made women feel romantic. It was practically a statistic.
And maybe he felt the need for a little extra Christmas cheer too.
After dragging it into his room, he realized he hadn’t bought extra ornaments.
“You didn’t remind me I’d need ornaments, dammit,” he called down the hall to Jazz, who made a sound equivalent to “too bad for you” right before the baby started to cry. Again.
So he went downstairs and borrowed a few from the main tree. And one of the strands of lights. The bald spots and lack of lighting in one section added character, as far as he was concerned.
Their tree had been too California-perfect before. This suited them more. Besides, he hadn’t borrowed any of the musical-themed ornaments, had he?
Well, minus one mini black-and-white Stratocaster that played actual music. Because that fucking rocked.
After he finished outfitting his new tree, he sprawled out on his bed and took a nap for a couple of hours. Shopping and shit was hard work and he still had to wrap the crap.
When he woke up, the house smelled freaking amazing and the sun was definitely a lot lower in the sky. He sat up and clutched his growling stomach, then eyed the pile of junk he’d bought with equal parts misery and disdain.
All this Christmas business was just a consumer racket. No one cared about the true meaning. Hell, most people probably didn’t evenknowthe true meaning.
He wandered out into the hallway and headed toward Jazz and Gray’s room. The pluck of strings combined with Gray’s low, husky voice reached him just before he knocked.
“Simple Man” was one of his favorites. Gray appreciated classic Lynyrd Skynyrd just as much as he did.
He rapped his knuckles on the door, then opened it when Gray replied. He started to razz him about his playing when his gaze fell on the bed. Jazz and the baby were curled up asleep together, looking stupidly cute.
Something shifted inside him, and it wasn’t due to Jazz. He cared about her a lot, even loved her as a friend, but he didn’t see her as anything more than that now. No, it was more that her and the baby stirred feelings inside him he didn’t know what to do with. Didn’t know how to process.
He wasn’t the daddy type. He’d always known that about himself and hadn’t bothered thinking about it overmuch. But maybe the fact that babies were all around him now due to his bandmates settling down, or perhaps Lila’s obvious love of them had screwed up his head somehow because a part of him was starting to wonder.
What would that be like? Just to look at that little face and think “hey, I had a part in creating that”? There were fun aspects to being a parent too. You know, like getting to buy the kid a KISS costume to wear on Halloween and teaching him “Stairway to Heaven” to impress all his kindergarten buddies.
“You need to get the kid a guitar,” he told Gray, nodding to the bed.
“I think he has a little time yet,” Gray said drily, continuing to strum through the end of the song.
“Nah, man, you can’t wait on it. He’s already been exposed to all that prenatal drumming from Jazz. You’re going to lose him to the other side if you don’t start now.”
“The other side being drums?” Gray jerked a shoulder, his fingers moving without cease. “Eh, if he likes them better, fine. It’s his choice. He may not even want to do the music thing at all.”
Nick’s eyebrows lifted. “What the hell kind of father are you, saying crap like that?”
Gray shook his head, a faint smile playing around his mouth. “If you came in here to try to con her into wrapping your presents, you’re out of luck, dude. She’s wiped out.”
Nick scratched his chin. “Huh. Never thought of that. Would she have?”
“After she just put up with all your last minute shopping? Doubtful. And pay up, son. We’ve got a college education to start socking away for, not to mention house stuff.” Gray held out a hand.
“Oh yeah. Sorry. Forgot. One second.” Nick jogged down the hall to his room to take out the money from between his mattress and box spring, tucked beside his worn copy of TheCatcher in the Rye.
He really needed a safe. This hiding money holdover from their days of living underneath the Fluff ‘n Fold Laundromat was getting old.
Also, maybe he needed to stop squirreling away so much money in the apartment, period. Ricki was doing better now. He didn’t need to have so much cash on hand to help bail her out anymore. His money guy was investing in the stock market for him, and maybe it was time he grew up a bit and actually used his money market account now and then.
He grabbed the cash and returned to Gray and Jazz’s bedroom. Jazz and the baby were still out cold. “Thanks, man,” he said, handing the wad to Gray.
Gray blinked. “Dude, ever heard of a check?”
