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As much as Caleb loves his husband, he can’t help but think Canadians are weird come winter time. Especially around Christmas. Either that, or Kaidan is trolling him, which, come to think of it, is entirely possible. He’s done it before, and will likely do it again in future; old habits are hard to break.
Stepping out onto the front porch, two steaming mugs in hand, Caleb surveys the yard. It’s the second week of December; Alenko family tradition specifies it’s time to decorate the yard for the holidays. Kaidan, he’s discovered over the years, is all about keeping up the traditions. Caleb doesn’t have an issue with it … except maybe this year. “What is that?”
Kaidan ascends the steps, gratefully accepting the steaming mug in overly chilled hands. “Hmm? What’s it look like?”
Caleb narrows his gaze at the man and sips at his own drink; hot cider with just a touch of the good Irish whiskey. Nan’s old recipe rediscovered years before. Not all the traditions belong to the Canadians, after all, and some it’s sacrilege to change. His eyes drift back to the now decorated yard and to one in particular. “That looks like a –.”
He’s interrupted when the door behind them bangs open as Niamh and Tadhg run out of the house. Both teens skid to a quick stop, kissing each of their fathers’ cheeks before continuing down the stairs.
“Where are you two going?” Kaidan calls after them.
Tadhg rolls his eyes as he opens the skycar. “She wants to finish her Christmas shopping.”
Niamh punches his arm. “You said you still had some to do, too!” Back to Caleb and Kaidan she shouts, “We’ll be back for dinner!” then clambers into the vehicle.
Caleb blinks, glances over at Kaidan again. “Why do I get the feeling we shouldn’t have let them learn to drive?” he asks as the vehicle soon turns out onto the drive and in the direction of town.
“Hah! I’d like to see you stop them.” Kaidan sips at his mug again. “This is good. Change up the recipe this year?”
“Heathen,” Caleb mutters with mock disdain as he bumps the other man’s shoulder with his own. “And quit trying to change the topic.”
The laughter returns. “What topic?”
Caleb descends the steps, casually strolling over to the object in question. It isn’t the placement that bothers him; not even really the fact that it’s there, either, but the lights woven around the points and flats that are troublesome. Pointing at it, he asks, “What is that?”
Kaidan follows, snickering softly. “You tell me.”
This time Caleb mutters in Irish.
“You do know I know what that means, right?”
The scowl that takes shape on Caleb’s face isn’t for show this time. “Between your mother and those lessons you took without telling me, I assumed as much.” Folding his arms across his chest, he turns toward Kaidan. “Why is there a moose in our yard, and more to the point, why does it have Christmas lights on its antlers?”
Kaidan’s brilliant grin reaches his eyes as he replies, “Why, mo shearc, how else would we say Merry Christmoose?”