They put up the tree on Christmas Eve, just like they always did. Micky, Peter, Davy, and Mike. All standing around a medium sized tree. It brought Micky a sense of normalcy and he clung to that with every ounce of strength his body had in it. He had gone out and acquired the Christmas tree himself, enjoying the moment alone. It hadn't been all that busy, due in part to the fact that it was Christmas Eve after all. Mike had gotten the box of decorations out of the garage, a feat that required nerves of steel thanks to the spider infestation that had grown over the summer. Davy had baked cookies and dinner, his skills having improved immensely over this past six months. Peter had helped Davy for a little bit, but he had become so tired recently. Even walking on the beach now tired him out more than it should have. He ended up sleeping most of the afternoon, curled up on the couch under a blanket that Mike had covered him with. But he had mustered enough energy to help decorate the tree and after it was all set up, Peter seemed his normal bouncy self.
"It looks nice, doesn't it?" Peter asked, hands placed confidently on his hips, a bright shine to his eyes.
"It's wonderful," Davy agreed, head tilted up so he could see the top of the tree.
"Beautiful," Mike nodded.
"And Davy put the star on. Without falling on his face," Micky chimed in, nudging Davy in the ribs with his elbow.
"Oi, don't give me a reason to kick your ass," Davy warned, but Micky knew he was only joking.
"My money's on Davy," Peter stage-whispered to Mike.
"A good choice," Mike nodded sagely.
"C'mon, guys, back me up here," Micky whined, going along with the gag.
"Uh-uh, Mick, yer on your own, man. Davy's just obviously the better choice," Mike insisted.
Peter then pulled Micky into a sudden kiss, laughter in his chest. It felt good, the spontaneity of the moment. From the corner of his eye, Micky saw Davy grab onto Mike.
"Ew, gross, get a room," Mike pretended to be disgusted, although Micky could hear the smile in his voice.
"Mike, let's kiss and do them one better," Davy piped up.
Micky liked having Peter so close to him, their lips pressed together. He wanted to melt into Peter, become one with the man he loved. But of course Micky felt the same way towards his other two friends. They could stay here, in this house, forever. Be together without any worries. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Peter pulling slightly away from Micky to cough. He coughed into the crook of his elbow, his body seeming to shake with the force. Micky looked at him and felt the beginning tendrils of reality start to enter his bubble of pretend normalcy, the bubble of happiness.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, just had a tickle in my throat," Peter assured him, "It's really nothing. I feel great. In fact, I'm starved."
Micky glanced at his other two friends, concerned looks exchanged in a very quick moment of silence.
"Then let's go eat," Davy clapped his hands together, shaking off any sort of worry he might be feeling, "I didn't slave over this roast all day for it not to get eaten."
"It looks so good," Peter commented as he followed Davy.
Micky looked at Mike, who looked right back to Micky. The two exchanged a series of worried glances once more that communicated to both of them their concern. Was Peter right in assuming that his cough was nothing, or could it be the precursor to something else? Another opportunistic infection, perhaps.
"We'll worry about it after Christmas," Mike whispered to Micky, rubbing his hand up and down Micky's arm for a second.
"Give him Christmas, nothing to worry about, I remember," Micky nodded, in the same quiet fashion.
Then they went and joined Davy and Peter at the dinner table. The food that Davy had prepared was delicious and Micky decided that he'd clean up after dinner. The meal was accompanied by mild talk about nothing in particular, a meandering conversation that allowed all four parties to forget everything besides the then and there. Once dinner was finished, Micky collected the dishes and did the washing up as the others grabbed their presents for one another. Micky grabbed his after he finished putting away the dishes. Then they all sat down on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, in a little circle.
"Okay, so, I want to go first this year," Davy stated, before handing out a gift to each of his three friends.
Micky and Mike both looked at Peter expectantly. For a moment, Peter looked pained but he quickly hid that with a smile. Micky watched Peter as he carefully tore open the wrapping paper his gift was bound in. Then he held up a rather worn looking, brown scarf. Peter glanced up at Davy, as did Micky himself. What was it's story?
"It was my grandfather's. He gave it to me when I was twelve, after I got chicken pox. He wore that scarf during his time in the army, during World War Two. He claims that it once stopped a bullet from entering his heart, but I don't know if that's true or not. It's thought to be lucky and I thought you should have it," Davy explained.
Peter looked down at the scarf and Micky could tell that he was more than overjoyed. The bassist was quick to put on the scarf, wrapping it snugly around his neck.
"Well, if it can stop a bullet, maybe it can work some other miracles," Peter beamed.
Davy smiled and then turned his gaze to Mike. Mike opened his gift, which happened to be a harmonica. Mike thanked Davy and the joke was made that adding a harmonica into Mike's country songs would make him the biggest country singer in the known universe. Davy seemed very pleased with Mike's reaction. Then it came turn for Micky to open his gift. Davy had gotten him a shirt that had no sleeves and a star pattern on them, with a little lace at the neck and hem. Micky loved it and told Davy exactly that.
Mike went next in the gift giving ritual. He had gotten Peter new guitar strings and told him that he'd fix up Peter's bass tomorrow evening. Peter seemed just as touched as he had been with Davy's present, reaching over to give Mike a half-hug before he safely stowed the new guitar strings up on the nearest bookshelf, just to make sure they didn't get lost. Davy received a pocket mirror that had his initials engraved in it on the back and Micky got a spoon that spun around thanks to a small motor in its handle.
"Where'd you even find something that ridiculous?" Peter managed to say through his laughter, tears streaming on his cheeks.
The spoon had sent everyone off into a laughing fit.
"I had to send away for it. I found it advertised in a magazine," Mike explained, his laughs subsiding.
"Oh, god," Davy wheezed, hands pressed against his sides.
Once they had all settled down, Micky handed out his own presents. He had gotten Mike a book on how to fix car engines, telling him that if Mike wanted to, they could work on giving their car a few upgrades together. Mike seemed to appreciate this very much and Micky felt very pleased with himself. For Davy, Micky had purchased him some new pants. But they weren't your average new pants. These were entirely made out of leather and Davy joked that now he and Micky could match. It was true that Micky owned his own pair of leather pants and it was purely this reason that Micky had bought Davy his own pair.
"Now you can't make fun of me for wearing my pair," Micky had laughed.
"Fat chance, I'll never stop," Davy had hit back.
And finally, for Peter, Micky hadn't bought him anything but instead he had made Peter a photo album of all four of them. Peter tore open the wrapping and quickly thumbed through the album. He said nothing as he flipped through it and Micky was aware of Mike and Davy both looking at him with puzzled expressions. They were probably wondering what he had put into the photo album.
"It's an album. Of us. All four of us. Our little family. I took all of those pictures, or at least most of them. Davy took the ones of me," Micky explained, beginning to feel just a little on edge.
Peter shut the book and looked up at Micky. It was then that he realized Peter was crying, little streaks of tears decorating his cheeks.
"Is something wrong, Peter?" Davy asked, concerned by this sudden change in mood.
"No, no, nothing's wrong," Peter assured his friends as he wiped away the tears, "I just… thank you, Micky, this is wonderful."
Peter looked down at the photo album, hand fingering the brown scarf, and smiled broadly. Micky felt a rush of relief. He watched as Peter scooted backwards a little, so that he could look at all three of them.
"I'm so grateful for all of your presents. They mean so much to me," Peter said and then handed each of them a little box that was neatly wrapped in gift wrapping, "I had no idea what to get you three this year because I didn't know how to express how much I love all three of you."
Micky looked at his wrapped box, then glanced over at Davy's and Mike's. They all appeared to be the same size and they were all wrapped in the same sort of wrapping. Micky tore back the paper to reveal an unmarked box. For a moment, Micky's heart leapt into his throat. It couldn't be what Micky was thinking. With his palms sweaty, Micky opened the box to reveal a bracelet. It was just a thick silver chain with a small silver plate connecting the two ends, making it an actual bracelet. On the silver plate, there was an inscription. It read: MD + PT + DJ + MN. It was all four of their initials. By the little glances that Micky got of Mike's and Davy's presents, it seemed that Peter had given them all the same bracelet.
"It has our initials on it. So we're always with each other, no matter what," Peter explained.
No matter what. Micky replied those words in his head over and over again. No matter what.
"Wow, Pete, this is so cool," Davy said as he put on his bracelet.
"That's an understatement," Micky whistled, putting on his own bracelet even though his hand shook a little.
"How much this cost ya?" Mike's brows were knitted together slightly and Micky could tell that their Southern sounding friend was fighting the urge to cry.
"It doesn't matter," the smile on Peter's face seemed infectious, "All that matters is that you guys know that I love you all. And I appreciate you all sticking with me through these rough times."
"Peter, we'd never leave you," Micky assured him.
"Yeah, man, we all love you just as much as you love us," Davy agreed.
"We know that you love us," Mike nodded, quietly slipping on his bracelet.
They sat there for a moment in front of the Christmas tree in a comfortable silence. Then Davy stood up and began picking up all the trash. Micky noticed how he wiped the tears from his face when he thought no one else was looking at him.
"Let's watch a movie," Mike suggested as Davy finished up picking up the last of the trash.
"I can make popcorn," Micky leapt to his feet, already heading for the kitchen despite the fact that no one had green lighted the idea of watching a movie.
As he left the circle, Peter and Mike began discussing which movie they should watch and Davy went outside to put the trash in the garbage can. The rest of the evening was spent watching a movie and eating popcorn. The whole time, Micky kept fingering the bracelet on his wrist. It made him feel so close to his friends. After the credits began to crawl across the television screen, Mike stood up and stretched.
"I think it's time we all head off to bed," he announced.
Peter was already asleep so Micky decided not to wake him. Instead, Micky just picked Peter up and Davy helped put him to bed.
The next morning, the gang got up, got dressed, and loaded themselves up into their car. They didn't even stop to eat any breakfast, since they'd be eating almost as soon as they got to Micky's childhood home. Since Micky was lucky enough to have his family living in L.A., the gang alway enjoyed a relaxing Christmas Day with the Dolenz's. And that meant eating a lot of food. Which always appealed to Micky. It wasn't long before Mike was pulling up the driveway and Micky couldn't wait to see his parents. And see Coco. He suddenly felt someone holding his hand. It was Peter. Although he was looking straight ahead, Micky could see the smile on his face. Micky squeezed Peter's hand in return.
"Are you two coming, or what?" Davy asked.
Micky hadn't even realized that Mike and Davy had already gotten out of the car.
"Yeah, we're coming," Peter chirped before clambering over Micky and out of the car.
"Ouch," Micky whined, unfolding himself out of the backseat and out of the car himself, "Did you have to knee my kidney?"
"Don't be such a baby, Micky," Davy rolled his eyes.
Peter came over to Micky and gave him a quick hug.
"Sorry if I kneed your kidney," he said, pecking Micky on the cheek.
"Can we go inside now? Or are you two gonna stand out here kissin' till it's New Year's?" Mike asked.
Laughing amongst themselves, the gang went up to the front door and Micky knocked. Almost immediately, Micky's mother threw it open, her arms already seeking for a body to pull into a hug.
"Boys! Oh, my lovely boys!" Micky's mother exclaimed upon seeing who was on her front porch.
She quickly squeezed Micky and kissed him on the forehead, before shoving him inside. She did the same to Mike and Davy, but paused upon seeing Peter.
"Oh, Peter, how are you feeling?" Micky's mother asked, hands placing themselves firmly upon Peter's shoulders.
"I'm feeling better than expected, Mrs. Dolenz," Peter replied, offering Micky's mother a small smile.
"Oh, you're just a saint, an absolute saint, you know that," Micky's mother exclaimed, pulling Peter into a hug that Micky thought was just a little too tight.
"Mom, can you calm down? You're gonna strangle him to death if you keep that up," Micky said to his mother.
His mom released Peter and gave Micky a glare, before ushering everyone into the living room.
"How can I calm down when I know that my son and his friends are starving," Micky's mother absentmindedly said as she did so, "I mean, for Christ's sake, Micky, aren't you supposed to be feeding him?"
She lovingly patted Peter's shoulder.
"Betty, will you leave the boys alone?" Micky's father piped up from a chair.
"If I leave these boys alone, Nick, they'll die from starvation," Betty replied.
"We're really okay, Mrs. Dolenz," Mike assured Micky's mother.
By the look he had on, Micky could tell that Mike was ready to go back to the pad at all costs. Micky couldn't resist the urge to smile.
"Mom, where's Coco?" Micky asked, anxious to see his little sister, his thoughts doing a near 360 turn.
"Oh, she had to pick up her special friend," Betty rolled her eyes, "I told your sister, just bring your friend over here to stay the night, but she got all flustered and evaded answering me."
"Will she be here soon?" Micky pressed.
"I don't know," Betty shrugged her shoulders and then turned to Peter and Davy.
"Would you lovely boys mind helping me finish breakfast?" she asked.
"Course, Mrs. Dolenz," Peter nodded.
"Though maybe you don't want Peter helping much, he's not much of a cook," Davy warned, following Peter and Micky's mom into the kitchen.
Left alone with just Mike, Micky turned to share what he thought was a sort of comical moment, only to find that Mike had already sat down on the couch next to Micky's father. They seemed to be in an easy discussion about the sports game that was on. Micky sighed. Coco couldn't get here soon enough. Micky took a moment to wander into the study, a room that was just for books and a desk. But on one of the shelves, there were a variety of photo albums. Micky took out one in particular. It was the first one he had ever made. Photography had been Micky's second love, next to music, and his mother's obsession of capturing her children's lives via photo albums had naturally been passed down to Micky, whether he liked it or not.
The first one he had ever began working on was the day after Coco had told their family that she liked girls. He remembered that when he first found out, he was extremely happy. At the time, Micky had been convinced that, at least for a while, he'd be the only gay person around. But, low and behold, there was his own little sister. For a whole four months, Micky had taken various pictures of Coco and himself. Micky flipped through the pages until he came to a photograph where Coco was on top of Micky's shoulders. In the background, there was some sort of parade going on. She'd only been thirteen and Micky himself had still been adjusting to being seventeen. They had snuck out of the house on an early Wednesday morning and Micky had stolen their father's car.
Driving all day and all night, they made it to San Francisco just in time for their first gay pride parade. Looking at how young the both of them were, Micky couldn't help but laugh a little at how stupid that was. He'd made the decision on a whim, hadn't told their parents anything, and had taken his very little sister to a whole different city. All by himself. But it had been a great weekend and Coco had loved it. Although she still teased him about child endangerment from time to time, always making sure that Micky knew he was to blame for her rebellious streak. Like brother, like sister. In fact, Micky found it hard to believe that there was any sort of age difference between himself and his sister. They were practically twins.
"Hey," Coco's voice startled Micky.
He nearly dropped the photo album, but he didn't, and instead quickly put it back on the shelf before turning to face Coco.
"Where's your special friend?" Micky asked, hoping Coco wouldn't notice he had been looking at the photos.
"She's at the table. Breakfast's ready," Coco replied, eying Micky up and down, "You were looking at the pride picture, I can tell."
"How!? It's not like it physically changes me," Micky exclaimed.
"You look at it every Christmas, you dope," Coco rolled her eyes, glancing behind her for a moment before coming closer to Micky, "Anyways, I like remembering that weekend. It was fun. If not dangerous."
"I don't look at it every year," Micky weakly protested.
"Uh-huh," Coco didn't seem entirely convinced, "Well, that doesn't matter right now. Right now, I have to ask you something."
"What is it?" Micky frowned, wondering what on earth Coco would want to ask him.
"I've been with this woman for a while now, her name's Beth, and she's the sweetest human alive. I love her, Micky, and I want her to move in with me," Coco explained.
"Whoa, wait, phone Beth?" Micky arched an eyebrow.
When calling Coco, occasionally the same woman named Beth would answer. Micky knew he shouldn't feel so surprised but he couldn't help it.
"Yeah, phone Beth," Coco nodded her head, a small smile lighting up her face.
"And you want her to move in with you? That's like… the equivalent of marrying her," Micky knew he shouldn't be as stunned as he was.
"I know, I know, but I… I want to spend the rest of my life with her, Micky. And I don't need your approval of her. But… I'd like to know if you think it'd be a good idea, us moving in together," Coco seemed to be really nervous.
Why was she nervous? She shouldn't be nervous.
"Why're you asking me, of all people, this sort of stuff?" Micky wondered.
"Because you've got experience with it," Coco's response threw Micky.
"What?"
"Yeah, with Peter. And I'm assuming Davy and Mike, but I'm no sneak," Coco elaborated.
"It's different with guys, Coco, I mean… our equivalent to marriage is when you try to bring monogamy into the situation, or a variation of it at least," Micky felt as if he were way out of his depth with this question, "Or maybe you buy a dog together. I've heard some guys buy a dog."
"Why are you so sweaty?" Coco asked him.
"I'm not sweaty," Micky lied, sounding far more defensive then he should have sounded.
"Me and Beth have been dating for five months now. We get along great, and I want to take the next step," Coco stated.
"Then ask her to move in," Micky sounded a little too defensive, yet again.
Why was he being so defensive? He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, wiping sweat off his palms and onto his jeans.
"You sound like you really like her, Coco, and if you're ready, then you gotta go for it. Love doesn't wait around for you. You gotta just… throw yourself into it," Micky said.
He felt ridiculous and stupid, sounding like some sort of half-assed fortune cookie.
"So you think I should ask her?" Coco prompted.
"I do, if you think you're ready, then what's there stopping you," Micky agreed.
"Oh, thanks, Micky!" Coco threw her arms around Micky's neck.
"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm the best big brother around," Micky said before pulling away from Coco and patting his stomach, "I'm hungry, so let's go eat. And I'll finally get to see the woman behind the phone."
"Please don't call her phone Beth," Coco begged.
"How else am I going to refer to her as?" Micky asked.
"Don't you dare call her phone Beth," Coco warned.
Micky simply grinned at Coco before dashing out of the study. He headed into the kitchen to find everyone sat down at the table, eating a variety of breakfast foods. These included eggs, pancakes, bacon, and coffee. Micky could already tell that his mother was trying to get Peter to eat seconds despite the fact that he hadn't even finished his first plate. A dark skinned woman with her hair curled around her shoulders sat next to Davy, who was amiably chatting with her.
"Phone Beth!" Micky greeted, taking the empty seat next to Peter.
That left the empty seat next to Beth for Coco, who quickly came into the kitchen only to glare at Micky as soon as he opened his mouth. She looked as if she'd, at any moment, leap over the table and strangle Micky. Beth looked at Micky and grinned, the smile lighting up her face.
"Wow, you really do look a lot like Coco. I thought she was just messing with me," Beth greeted.
"Now see, I don't see much of a similarity," Davy admitted.
"You need glasses then," Peter piped up before shoveling a forkful pancake into his mouth.
"Wait till I put on some makeup. I make a better girl than my sister does," Micky joked.
"I doubt that," Beth replied, eyes darting over in Coco's direction, her smile soft and loving.
The rest of the breakfast was spent in meandering chat, through which Micky found out that Beth worked at the Gay and Lesbian Center in L.A., helping homeless gay youth get back on their feet. And that there wasn't an animal alive that Beth didn't find adorable, in one way or another. Even lizards, which Micky found frankly baffling. How were lizards cute? You couldn't exactly pet them or snuggle with them. Peter had chimed in on the subject, saying that he liked lizards quite a bit. After breakfast had been consumed, Micky's mother cleaned up, refusing all help from everyone and anyone who offered. Despite this, Micky still helped his mother clean up.
Then it was time for games. They played Monopoly, but with teams as there weren't enough pieces for individual players. Mike and Davy won the first game by a landslide, with them owning the majority of the properties on the board by the time the game ended. They played again on the insistence of Beth, who then essentially won the second round for her and Coco by slyly bartering for properties throughout the game. After Monopoly, they played charades. After charades was lunch. Grilled cheese, tomato soup, apple juice. Hot coffee or tea afterwards. Later, Mike and Micky's father were talking as Davy and Beth decided upon a movie to watch. Coco was helping their mother clean up the dishes this time. Micky felt warm and happy. It was comforting to see his sister's life growing and it made him realize that his own life was going in a similar fashion. Maybe he and his friends didn't own a dog, but they were pretty much married to each other, in one way or another.
Cutting through his thoughts then was the sight of Peter slipping down the hallway. Where was he going in such a rush? Was something wrong? Wouldn't Peter have the sense to tell them if something was wrong? There was something nagging Micky and so he got up and followed Peter's footsteps. Micky found Peter in the bathroom, bent over the toilet and throwing up. Micky knelt down next to Peter, rubbing his back.
"Do you feel dizzy?" Micky asked after Peter had finished.
"N-no, I just, didn't feel so good all of a sudden," Peter replied, sitting down on the tiled floor, eyes closed.
His forehead was a little damp and Micky rested his palm on Peter's brow. He didn't feel, so no fever.
"Should I get you something?" Micky asked, removing his hand.
"No, no, I'm fine, Micky, really. It's just side effects, that's all," Peter brought his hands up to his temples and began rubbing them.
"Do you have a headache?" Micky asked him, trying to keep the fear at bay.
"Yeah," Peter confirmed, "But it's not that bad."
"Is anything else wrong?" Micky asked, figuring that it'd be better to know everything in one go then to have to keep on asking, one side effect at a time. It'd be more efficient anyways.
"I'm cold," Peter replied, "But I don't think that's supposed to be a side effect."
"Cold?" Micky frowned, trying to remember all of the side effects that AZT was supposed to have.
He couldn't remember whether or not being cold was one of the side effects. It might not even be anything, Peter could just be cold. It could be that simple. Get this guy a sweater. But how could anything be so simple these day? For a brief moment, Micky was gripped by a sudden and overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety. He couldn't breath and he couldn't think and he couldn't move. But it passed quickly. He didn't have time to panic.
"Like, physically cold or like sick cold?" Micky tried to clarify, reaching his hand up to place the back of his hand onto Peter's forehead again. Better safe then sorry.
"Um, I don't know," Peter admitted, "I think I'm just cold. No big deal."
He still didn't have a fever. So that was a good thing. He definitely didn't have a fever.
"You should just lay down. Take it easy," Micky suggested.
This whole month had been relatively busy for Peter and for the most part of it, he had been good. The side effects were there, that was for sure, but Peter seemed to be just like his old self these days, just a little more tired than usual. So maybe that was all sort of catching up to him now. No big deal. Rest him up and he'd be good as new.
"Yeah, I could use a nap," Peter admitted, his head briefly resting on the wall of the bathroom.
"Alright then, let's get you into bed," Micky helped Peter to his feet.
Coco's old bedroom was the one closest to the bathroom, so Micky took Peter into there, helping him into bed. Almost as soon as Peter's head hit the pillow, he seemed to be asleep. Micky stood by the bed for a moment, looking at how peaceful Peter looked while he was asleep. Briefly he wondered what Peter dreamt about, if he dreamt at all. Did he dream of nice things? A life he'd never get? Maybe he had nightmares. But there was no use in wondering about such things. So he decided it was high time one Micky Dolenz returned to the living room. Before he left, Micky planted a big kiss on Peter's forehead.
When he returned to the living room, his mom and sister had also joined the little band that was gathered around the television. Coco was sitting in Beth's lap, even though Micky thought that perhaps it'd be more comfortable for both of them if Beth sat on Coco's lap. They all seemed normal enough, just any other family sitting around the TV. Despite this, Micky knew that no one was paying any sort of attention to what was actually on the TV. Davy and Micky's mother were chatting, as were Mike and Micky's father, although Mike and his dad seemed to be engaged in a very animated conversation rather than just any old casual chat. That left Beth and Coco to entertain themselves. Micky sat down next to his sister and her soon-to-be housemate.
"Peter alright?" Coco asked.
Micky felt a pang of embarrassment at the realization that Coco had noticed his and Peter's disappearance. It was irrational and brief but it had still been there.
"Yeah, he just didn't feel well," Micky replied.
"How has the AZT been treating him?" Beth asked.
"Some days are better than others," Micky admitted, "But mostly, he's been fine. Just more tired than usual."
"AZT can be a bitch," Beth commented, "But at the rate that the government is working, it'll be the only drug available to the public for a long time to come. I mean, if you ask me, the government is being purposefully slow in order to get rid of the homosexual population. I mean, I'd bet money that they were the ones responsible for the first outbreak, and that the lesbian community is next."
"Will you stop that? You sound nuts," Coco gently hit Beth on the shoulder.
"I'm telling you, Coco, the government hides wars from us, do you really think they don't have the balls to kill off a whole section of the population? They did it to the Indians, so you know they've done it before. Why not do it again? Once every gay man has AIDS, the government will implement some other crippling African disease to wipe out us lesbians," Beth insisted.
She seemed so sure and confident in her belief and Micky had to admit that it did make a lot of sense. He almost believed her.
"I can't believe I'm going to have to live in the same house with you," Micky could tell that Coco was trying to sound annoyed and exasperated but it came out as more of a giggle.
"When did you ask her?!" Micky exclaimed, suddenly realizing the implications of Coco's comment.
"I asked her just before you came back," Coco seemed bemused.
"It was real romantic, she just asked me if I'd like to move in with her and that was it," the tone of Beth's voice held a playful annoyance in it.
"What did you want me to so?" Coco asked.
"Something at least a little more romantic," Beth replied.
"Moving in together is the lesbian equivalent to marriage," Micky reminded his sister.
"Is it?" Beth frowned, "I thought it was when we bought a cat together."
"I'm gay, I just go by what I hear," Micky shrugged.
Coco punched him then in the shoulder. It stung a little and Micky made an exaggerated face.
"Ouch, Coco," Micky whined, "Mom, Coco hit me!"
The look on Coco's face made Micky almost break his whiny character.
"Coco, you know your brother is fragile," Micky's mother said, "Don't hit him."
"Oh come on, that's not fair," Micky protested, his character all but forgotten.
"Ha ha, shows you to be a whiny baby," Coco teased.
Micky laughed. It felt like it had been forever since he and his sister were able to just casually joke around like this. Micky found it sort of weird that he and his sister always reverted back to some sort of childish mentality on Christmas Day when the whole family got together. He noticed then how Davy was smirking at him and Micky suddenly felt a little embarrassed about how he had acted. Only a little bit though and the feeling quickly passed. He had acted worse in front of his friends before. Hell, he's been drunk in front of his friends before, so his mocking actions were nothing new to them.
The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. Micky's father convinced the guys, minus Peter, to go outside and play some football. Coco and Beth insisted they play, so the teams were three versus three. Micky's dad, Micky, and Mike were on one team and on the other team was Davy, Coco, and Beth. Coco's team won hands down. Then they drank hot chocolate and Peter eventually rejoined them in the living room, announcing that he felt a lot better. At dinner, Micky's mother made sure everyone ate way too much, taking it slower than most meals since somehow Micky knew that his mother knew about Peter throwing up earlier in the day. Dessert was chocolate cake and pumpkin pie. During dessert, Micky picked up on Peter coughing. It wasn't anything big, just a little cough, almost as if he were clearing his throat. It made Micky feel fear prickle the back of his mind. He made a mental note to ask Dr. Cole about it after the holidays. If it got any worse, Micky would just take Peter to the hospital himself.
The night was growing old and it was about 10:04 PM. Peter was already asleep, his head resting on Mike's shoulder. Coco kept yawning, as did Davy. The two of them almost seemed to be in some sort of yawn battle. Micky laughed a little bit at that thought. It was a ridiculous notion but he could imagine Davy trying to engage in just some sort petty fight.
"Do you kids want to stay here for the night, or are you guys going to head home?" Micky's father asked.
"If you ask me, they should all just stay here for the night, one of them might fall asleep at the wheel," his mother grumbled.
She always made the pitch that the kids should stay the night rather than go home this late. But every time, the invitation is declined.
"It's not like we live far, mom," Micky pointed out.
"At least let me make you all some coffee before you leave then," Micky's mother insisted, getting up and going into the kitchen.
Mike glanced at Micky, indicating Peter with a slight tilt of his head, and Micky just shrugged, indicating that it probably wouldn't matter if they stayed for coffee. Mike seemed to understand this because he gently nodded his head. In a short while, Micky's mother returned with coffee's for everyone except for herself and Peter. They talked quietly about nothing in particular as they all drank their coffee, until they were all finished. Then Coco and Beth said their goodbyes. Micky, Davy, and their parents showed the two women to the door. Mike was still sitting with Peter asleep on his shoulder. After Beth and Coco left, Micky and Davy agreed it was time they headed home. So Mike woke Peter up and they headed to the car, but Micky lingered for a moment.
"Thanks for having us over, mom," Micky said to his mom, squeezing her tightly.
"It's always a pleasure to have you and your sister home again," his mother agreed, "I wish you kids would visit more often."
"And give us some grandchildren, for christ sakes, your mom and I aren't getting younger," his father chipped in.
"Dad," Micky shook his head, a smile on his face.
"What? Both you and Coco could adopt some kids. And if the state has some sort of problem with that, I'll adopt the kids for you," his father mumbled, shrugging his shoulders just slightly.
"Nick, you just keep your mouth shut," Betty shook her head at her husband, but Micky noticed that his parents were holding hands.
It made him smile, a warm feeling spreading throughout his body. His father then kissed his mother on the cheek and said goodbye to Micky before going back into the house, leaving Micky and his mother alone.
"Now, Micky, baby, you take care of Peter, alright. You call us if you need anything, and I mean anything at all, do you understand?" Micky's mother continued.
"I know, mom," Micky nodded, "I understand."
"You just call me up and I'll be there for you, all of you, no matter how late or early it is. You and Peter and the other two are all so brave for facing this," Micky's mother still went on, tears making her eyes misty.
"I know, mom," Micky repeated and then kissed his mother on the cheek to prevent her from saying anything else, "I love you, mom."
"I love you, too, Micky, my sweet little boy," his mother embraced Micky, her face squished against his chest.
"I'll call you soon, mom, and we'll visit again, too," Micky told her.
His mother nodded, kissed him on the cheek, and then waved him off.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Howdy all! My apologies for such a late update. School has been very hectic so I haven't had time to write and edit. But here's a new chapter and here's to the hopes that I'll be able to post a little more frequently. Once again, this story is as factually accurate as a high school student can get, so I implore anyone out there who is interested in learning what the 1980s AIDS crisis was really like, check out Randy Shilts's And the Band Played On. This chapter was one of my more favorite chapters, although there's a lot in store for future chapters that were fun to write as well. Feel free to leave a favorite and a comment! All are welcome! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I hope you have a wonderful day!