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“Don’t say it Eames.” Yusuf’s frustration was made clear by the huff in his voice.
“Darling, I am doing my best. This job never seems to end.” Eames rubbed a hand over his eyes. He hadn’t slept naturally in nearly two days and he felt it in his bones.
“How long have we been together?” Yusuf asked curtly.
“Four years in May.” Eames already knew where this was heading.
“And how many Christmases have you missed?”
Eames sighed, knowing the answer but not wanting to admit it. “All of them,” Eames felt guilt settling in his gut. “I swear to you I will be home this time. One way or another.”
Yusuf was silent for a moment. Eames thought for a second that Yusuf had hung up.
“Look Eames,” Yusuf sighed heavily. “I love you but if you leave me alone for Christmas again; I’m done. I can’t keep doing this.”
Eames’ chest tightened as he rested his head in his hands. “I promise. I will be there,” he whispered.
“I hope so.” Yusuf’s voice was heavy with doubt.
Eames clicked off the call, grabbing a pillow from the bed and heaving it across the room. It hit the window with a harmless thud. Snow slowly drifted outside, collecting on the streets. The snow had been the major reason for the job being delayed in the first place. Who does a job in Seattle in winter anyway?
This was the job from hell. He wasn’t going to let it ruin everything for him. It was a week until Christmas, surely the job would finish up in time?
************
“I don’t see how we can get this job done before the new year…” The extractor, Sean, announced to the small crew. “The logistics just aren’t working. The target won’t be where we can make the grab until his dentist appointment on January 2nd.”
“That isn’t going to work for me,” Eames piped up, standing from his chair.
“Eames, this job is too important to quit now.” Leila, the architect, reminded him. “If we don’t get those formulas soon we will have hell to pay.”
“Yeah well, it’s three days before Christmas. I have someone very important at home who has stopped returning my calls. If I’m not home soon I may lose them.” Eames gathered his things from his desk, his mind already made up. “Sorry mates, I’m out.”
“Eames, you know what backing out of this means. You won’t work with me again,” Sean stated, dropping a thick folder on the table.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not missing Christmas again.” Eames left quickly, leaving a room of shocked faces in his wake.
The snow plows had been around, making the drive to his rented apartment easier than he had expected. Seattle was blanketed in over 10 inches of snow. Even with the plows being out in full force, the roads were nearly empty. And yet the snow kept coming.
Eames called the airport, booking the first flight to London, cost be damned. He barely had time to throw his belongings haphazardly into his suitcase before he was out the door and heading to the airport.
He tried to call Yusuf and got no answer. Eames wasn’t surprised considering the time difference. He sent him a text telling Yusuf he was coming home. He just hoped he would be able to keep his promise.
*************
“What do you mean the flight is canceled? I just booked it not two hours ago!” Eames stared at the ticket agent in shock. The pretty redhead looked sympathetic, if a little panicked.
“I’m not sure what happened sir, but all of our flights are canceled or delayed because of the snow.” She bit her bottom lip, her face filled with empathy.
“I need to get home, please. What can I do?” Eames pleaded, resting his elbows on the counter.
“Let me see what I can do,” she said as she started typing furiously. “All the connecting flights out of LA are booked…” Eames’ heart felt heavy as the moments ticked by. “Look, I can book you a flight out of Vegas to Little Rock and then I can reserve a spot on a flight out of Atlanta to London. You may be able to transfer to it if you can’t make it in time, but there is nothing in between.”
Eames bowed his head trying to convince himself that Yusuf wouldn’t seriously leave him if he didn’t make it. He wasn’t ready to give up. Surely there were other options.
Then he had an idea. “When is the flight out of Vegas?”
“6:45 pm tomorrow.”
“Ok, so I have a little over 24 hours to make it to Vegas?”
“If that is what you want, sir.”
“Book it. I’ll figure it out.” Eames felt a spark of hope as he grabbed his tickets and rushed back out to his car. He could do this if he moved fast enough.
*************
It took Eames three hours to get onto clear roads. After that he floored the gas and hoped for the best. He drove through the night, passing through town after town. Luckily he never saw a police car.
Six hours later the rental car started making a strange noise. The knocking made Eames nervous but he had to press on. He was only an hour outside of San Francisco. Surely it could make it a little further?
Twenty minutes later Eames had the hood up as steam billowed out of the engine. He had sputtered into a gas station in the middle of nowhere and now he didn’t know what he was going to do.
He tried to call Yusuf again, knowing that it was afternoon in London and that he should be up. The call bounced to voicemail after two rings. With a sigh, Eames went into the gas station and took a seat in one of the plastic booths along the window. He sat there for an hour trying to find a taxi service that would come get him but he wasn’t having any luck. He was tired. He had driven all night and hadn’t slept much the night before.
Eames bought himself some questionable food from under the heat lamps and debated on stealing one of the cars outside. He had spotted a prime target when a limo rolled up outside, blocking his sightline. Eames’ attention was drawn to the four forty-somethings that piled out of the vehicle, well on their way to being drunk at 8 am in the morning. They tottered towards the station in their heels, their perfectly contoured faces out of place at such an early hour. One of the women had a bright pink sash across her chest announcing that she was getting married.
The overly tanned women made a ruckus in the store, grabbing snacks and wine. They chattered and flirted with the attendant after they paid for their bounty. Then he heard the magic words.
“Are we stocked up and ready for Vegas, bitches?!”
Eames’ perked up, an idea formulating in his head. As the women climbed back into the limo, Eames put on his most charming smile and approached them.
“You lovely ladies wouldn’t happen to want to help a man down on his luck make his flight in Vegas, would you?”
The four blondes looked at him curiously and then at each other in silent conversation. “You’re cute. Come on,” the one with the sash stated. “No funny business, though.”
“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything unseemly.” Eames sighed in relief and and climbed into the limo to a chorus of cheers.
*************
Eames had tried to refuse the wine offered to him but the women were very persuasive. Eventually he started pouring his wine into one of the women’s glasses when they weren’t looking. They had listened to his (sanitized) story and ‘aww’ed when he told them about his plan to get home for Christmas. When he tripped out of the limo outside the Las Vegas airport wearing a flashing Christmas light necklace, he was glad to still have his innocence intact. Linda had been a little handsy after her third glass.
Eames couldn’t fight the smile on his face, waving as the limo left him and his suitcase on the curb. Barbra waved back, hanging out of the sunroof.
“Check your pocket!”she cried with an exaggerated wink.
Eames reached in his pocket and pulled out a napkin with three phone numbers and a lipstick stain. “Call us if London doesn’t work out,” scrolled in pen. When Eames caught a glimpse of himself in the window he spotted more of said lipstick on his cheek.
Eames chuckled to himself and rubbed away the color from his cheeks, the wine making his head spin a bit as he made his way to the ticket counter. The ladies were definitely memorable. He hoped Yusuf would enjoy hearing about them.
He made it to the terminal an hour early and took the opportunity to grab a bite to eat. Nearly nodding off at a slot machine outside his gate, he was startled awake by the bell on the machine telling him he’d won $400.
Eames took it as a sign that things were going to get better and he was going to make it. Eames hated to hurry the attendant but his flight was being called and he tipped the guy a $20 before rushing to his gate.
A little while later he was in the air. Finally he let his eyes slip shut, knowing that he wouldn’t get much of a nap on the short flight but he needed to try anyway.
It was dark when he landed in Little Rock. While waiting for a taxi Eames figured out how much time he had left to get home. He tried to account for the time difference and if he didn’t run into any other major roadblocks he should make it home just in time for Christmas.
Eames stopped at the sky desk. The air outside the Bill and Hillary International Airport was chilly, but didn’t carry the bite that the air in Seattle did. A kind southern man greeted him with a smile.
“Yes, hello. As you can tell I’m not from around here and I’m trying to get to Atlanta by tomorrow afternoon. Any bright ideas?” Eames asked.
“Well, all the flights out are booked but there is a Greyhound station here in Little Rock. That can get you to Nashville by noon tomorrow. From there Atlanta is about a three hour drive. You should make your 6pm flight.” The young man clicked around on his computer and soon there was a bus ticket being pressed into Eames’ hand. “Good luck. Get home to your partner.”
Eames thanked the man and hopped into the next available taxi. He longed for a bed and some real sleep but he didn’t have too much further to go.
As Eames passed through Little Rock, he was surprised by how different the city was from what he imagined. The driver was a kind-faced older man and would offer commentary here and there on the landmarks or historical areas as they passed.
“That, young man, is the the Clinton Presidential Library. Or as we call it “The Great Trailer In The Sky”, because it looks like a mobile home on stilts. Seems fitting though.”
Eames peered at the the metal and glass building and thought that it was actually an interesting design choice with gentle rolling hills and the river nearby. They passed by one of the many bridges that circled the town, all lit up in holiday colors.
As they got closer to the bus station he could see the capitol building covered in lights. It reminded Eames of Clark Griswold's house from that movie Yusuf loved.
“You Arkansasans take Christmas seriously,” Eames pointed out.
“When you don’t get much snow, you have to make your own Christmas joy.”
Eames smiled to himself, one day he would have to bring Yusuf here. He would like all the lights and maybe he wouldn’t be so cold and expect to put his frozen feet on Eames.
Eames paid the driver and got his bag. The bus station was surprisingly nice and shockingly busy. He found his bus and went to find his seat.
As he walked towards the back of the bus he found a little old lady, her hands working quickly as she crocheted something in her lap.
“I think this is me,” Eames announced getting her attention. He gestured to the window seat next to her.
“Oh!” she cried looking up at him. “Come on here, dear.” She pulled her legs back as far as she could to let him in and moved her bag of yarn out of his seat. “Sorry about that, hon.”
“Not a problem, ma’am.” Eames stowed his bag and took his seat.
“I’m no ma’am, sugar. Call me Ethel.”
“Sure, Ethel. Would you like me to hold your yarn for you?” Eames offered holding his hands out.
“Aren’t you a sweet thing?” Ethel gave him a blinding grin, her smile showing brightly against her dark skin. “What brings you here at this time of year? Shouldn’t you be home with your family?”
“That is exactly what I’m trying to do. I was an idiot and took a job that I knew would probably run over.” Eames relaxed as the bus started to to move, Ethel’s long fingers working quickly, pulling the yarn ball around in Eames’ lap.
“See, that’s what you young people don’t understand. Money may be important but you can survive without it. Love? Love is much harder to live without.”
“You are a wise woman, Ethel.”
“I know. You look like shit, if you don’t mind me saying. We have a long ride ahead of us. Might as well get some sleep.”
Eames chuckled at her bluntness but laid his head back. Before long the sound of yarn sliding over a hook sent him to sleep.
*************
“Young man, you need to wake up if you want to stretch your legs.” Ethel nudged Eames with her crochet hook.
Eames looked around. He had no idea what time it was, his internal clock so far out of whack he knew he was going to have wicked case of jet lag when he finally made it home.
Home. He could see it now. The streets covered in snow. Yusuf always insisted on a real tree so the house would smell of pine. It would be warm, a fire burning low in the living room, and Yusuf’s curly hair would be all that would show above the blanket he would be snuggled under. Waiting. Waiting on Eames to come home. He was probably watching one of those cheesy Christmas movies right now.
Eames checked his phone only to find the battery dead. He walked with Ethel around the bus station, grabbing them a drink before climbing back on the bus.
The hat Ethel was working on looked to be almost done when she picked it back up. He chatted with her, telling her about Yusuf, something he rarely did. She smiled and patted his knee.
“You seem like a good man.”
“I’m really not,” Eames interrupted.
“At least you are trying. That is what’s important.” Ethel smiled brightly as she sewed the final strand in, attaching a giant pom pom to the top of the hat. She reached over and tugged the hat onto Eames’ head and gave him a satisfied hum. “Looks good on you. It’s going to be cold in London. You keep it.”
“Ethel, I couldn’t…”
“No arguing. It’s yours.”
“Yes ma’am.” Eames grinned as Ethel rolled her eyes.
When they parted ways in Nashville Eames got her number, promising to call her every weekend to check on her. He wore the hat proudly. It made quite the look with the glowing christmas lights still around his neck.
It didn’t take him long to find a rental car and after stopping to buy a car charger he was on his way. He knew he still had a long flight ahead of him but home seemed so close, just beyond his reach. So close he could almost feel Yusuf’s curls under his finger tips, the warmth of Yusuf’s body when they lay together in bed.
Eames struggled to stay away as the drive stretched on. It was only three hours but it seemed so much longer than that.
When he finally made it to the airport he had to run to make his gate. He was barely through security when he heard the final call. He ran as hard as his legs would carry him, muttering ‘sorry’ as he pushed people out of the way.
Finally he could see the gate but they were shutting the door. He yelled for them to stop but it must have sounded like a horrified shriek because they looked at him in shock as he stumbled to a stop in front of them. His heart pounded at the thought of being so close but failing right at the finish line.
“Please. I have to get on that plane.”
“Sir, we just had final call. We have to shut the doors.”
“Please, I’m trying to get home. I have driven, hitchhiked, bused, and flown to get here and I need you to let me on that damned plane.” Eames realized his hands were clenched at his sides and forced himself to relax to look less threatening. “Please. My partner is at home alone waiting for me. If I don’t make this flight I’m going to miss Christmas.”
The two gate attendants looked at him and then at each other before moving out of the way of the door. One spoke into a walkie talkie saying they had one more coming.
Eames could have hugged them but he was in too much of a hurry. He thanked them profusely, handing them his boarding pass, then rushed down the hallway to the waiting flight attendant, who looked mildly annoyed. He quickly pointed out Eames’ seat, an aisle seat next to a older couple.
He couldn’t complain though. They were quiet and he was able to sleep finally. Before he knows it he’ll be setting his feet on London ground and heading home.
*************
Eames drifted in and out throughout the flight, waking for meals and to stretch his legs. Soon though they were landing. Eames checked his phone. Still nothing from Yusuf but as he disembarked, suitcase in hand, he realized it was 11pm on Christmas Eve.
He still had time.
He rushed to one of the many stores in the airport, suddenly taken with an idea. He wanted to do something special. Really surprise Yusuf.
Eames left with a arm full of post board and several sharpies in a bag. He hailed a cab outside and gave them his address. During the 20 minute ride he scribbled on the poster board, doing his best to make it neat.
When the cabbie dropped him off outside of his brownstone, Eames felt a odd bit of nerves. He tucked the hat Ethel made him tightly over his ears and made sure to turn on his Christmas light necklace from Barb and Linda, letting it flash and glow. He dug in his suitcase, pulled out his bluetooth speaker and sat it on the snow covered stairs.
He queued up the song he was looking for and picked up a small rock. He looked up at the second story window, tiny lights lining the glass, their colors reflecting on the fresh snow. There was a soft glow from the tree inside, filtering through the sheer curtain.
Yusuf was probably asleep and Eames hoped he was in the bedroom. He glanced at his phone. Ten minutes to midnight. With a determined nod, Eames tossed a pebble at the bedroom window. It landed with a tap against the glass.
After a moment of no response he tried again, tossing the next pebble a little harder, creating a louder tap. Still nothing.
Eames huffed out a breath and threw the next stone with a bit too much force. He winced at the sound of glass shattering.
“Oops,” he muttured. But it had the desired effect. Inside the house a light went on.
Eames rushed to set his speaker playing and hold up his cards. Elvis’ Blue Christmas filtered through the chilly air just as Yusuf’s shadow appeared at the window.
Eames put on his brightest smile, waiting for the sleepy and confused Yusuf to notice him.
“Eames? What the hell-”
Eames held a finger to his own lips and pointed to his cards.
‘I’m sorry…’ the card read.
‘I tried to get here sooner but my flight in Seattle was canceled…’
‘My rental broke down outside San Fran…’
Yusuf was grinning now. He brushed the snow and glass away from the sill so he could lean on his elbows,is hair unruly from sleep, and his eyes amused and fond.
‘I caught a ride to Vegas with some drunk cougars…’ Eames flipped the card to show Yusuf the back.
‘They were actually quite lovely..’
‘Caught a bus in Arkansas (we really should go there. You’d love it.)..’
‘Met a wonderful lady named Ethel…’
‘Begged my way onto a flight in Atlanta…’
‘Just so I could make it home to you…’
‘I’m fully aware that I’m ripping off Love Actually but..’
Yusuf chuckled, shaking his head, but urged Eames to continue. Before Eames could flip to the next card a window opened in the house next door.
“Do you gentlemen mind? Some people are trying to sleep!”
“Sorry, Mr. Lemins!” Yusuf called.
“”Fuck off! I’m trying to be romantic here!” Eames replied. The neighbor cursed at them and shut the window with a angry thud.
“Anyways...You were being romantic?” Yusuf prompted.
Eames smiled and held up the next card.
‘I know Love Actually is your favorite movie…’
‘Can you find a way to let me be your favorite person?’
Yusuf smile grew as the Hawaiian themed Christmas song droned on.
Eames grimaced and turned the last card over.
‘P.S. I’m probably not getting paid for that job… but I won $400 in Vegas! Can I come in?’
“Eames this is your house… You have a key.” Yusuf stood and moved to shut the window before glancing back at Eames who wasn’t moving yet. “Well? Come on then.”
Eames’ face ached from the width of his smile as he collected his things and rushed up the front stairs. He was in the door and outside his apartment in seconds. Yusuf was waiting for him at the door.
Eames opened his mouth, ready to speak when the hall clock chimed midnight. His face softened as he reached his free hand out to thread his fingers into Yusuf’s hair.
“Merry Christmas,” Eames whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against Yusuf’s.
“You too.” Yusuf muttered, pulling Eames in the door, pressing their lips tighter together. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
Eames rest his forehead against Yusuf’s, closing his eyes and just breathing in the scent of Yusuf. Of home. “I told you I would be here one way or another.”
Eames’ phone switched songs, ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas” filtered from his pocket. Yusuf smiled softly, leaning in for another kiss.
“You smell like planes and jet lag. Go get in the shower. And after I tape up the window I may join you.” Yusuf sent Eames a wink over his shoulder as he walked away.
Eames leaned against the door, his door. He could smell the tree in the living room and the cookies Yusuf must have made. Ethel was right. Home and love were so much more important than any job.
“Merry Christmas,” Eames whispered with a smile on his lips.