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Noah knew he’d made a mistake. He was going to be grounded for the rest of the holiday break. He might even be grounded all summer. His mom was going to lose her mind with worry, and once she knew he was alright, she was going to be so mad.
He should’ve left a note, but he’d meant to call her and tell her where he was once the plan was set in motion. Now his phone was dead, his boots were full of wet snow, his scarf and mittens were soaked through, and he couldn’t remember ever being so cold. His backpack felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. It was dark out, which meant it was dinner time, and his stomach was grumbling hungrily.
But the worst part was that he was pretty sure he was lost. It was snowing so hard that he couldn’t see much of the buildings at all, only the vague glow of lights through the swirls of snow. He’d told the Uber driver he was going to walk to the next corner, which had seemed easy enough at the time, but he must’ve turned the wrong way when he got out of the car, disoriented by the blinding snow. He’d crossed the street and walked the entire length of a block before realizing he didn’t see Barba’s apartment building, so he’d turned around and trudged all the way back. He couldn’t read the street signs; he could barely even see the stoplights. He’d crossed the street back to where he’d started and walked another long block, but he still couldn’t recognize the buildings. None of the townhouse steps looked familiar.
He’d walked back to the original corner, already feeling more than a little nervous. He tried to tell himself there weren’t very many options, only four directions to walk, but he couldn’t even be certain the driver had let him out in the right place. That guy didn’t seem concerned about dropping off a kid into a blizzard, and he could’ve left Noah anywhere.
Instead of crossing the street again, Noah had turned and walked up the side street. He didn’t see any other people walking, and there were only a couple of taxis driving slowly through the blowing snow. This side of the block was even darker, with no holiday lights or bright windows; there was nothing but dark brick plastered with white snow. The further he walked, the darker it got, and the fear really started to take hold in his chest.
There was a loud bang from somewhere in the snowy night and he stopped, heart slamming as he blinked wet flakes from his lashes and looked around. He wanted to cry, but he was old enough to know that it wouldn’t help anything. He knew this couldn’t be the right way so he started backtracking again, walking with his shoulders hunched defensively beneath the weight of his pack, his eyes squinted against the assault of snow.
He knew there was a bodega on the far corner of the intersection where he'd started. He was no longer sure it was the right bodega, the one closest to Barba’s building, but it was still open despite the blizzard and Noah focused his determination. He would go there and ask for help, either directions or a phone to borrow. As he reached the corner again, though, he could no longer see the bodega across the street. He couldn't see the stoplight, or the signal telling him when it was safe to walk. The world had disappeared into snow, and he was suddenly terrified that he might not even be back at his starting point.
It wasn’t only fear he was feeling, but a miserable sense of failure. He’d made everything worse instead of better.
“No, I don’t see—” a gruff, muffled voice said right beside him, startling Noah, and he started to turn as his heart stuttered in his chest. A strong hand clamped onto his shoulder, pulling him around, and a breathless little scream lodged in his throat. The man was bundled up, scarf around the lower half of his face and hat pulled down low on his forehead. His eyes glowed red, reflecting the muted color of the stoplights as a sudden break in the swirling snow brought them out of the nothingness.
Noah tried to step back but the man’s fingers tightened on his snowy coat and backpack strap, holding him in place. Noah braced, preparing himself to fight—he tensed his leg, ready to kick, ready to scream for help even if no one would hear over the wind—
Barba pulled his scarf down and said into his phone, “I’ve got him.”
Noah blinked. “Uncle Rafa?” he asked, afraid he was imagining things. He knew that could happen to people who were lost and scared.
“You’re okay, mijo, I’ve got you,” Barba said.
Noah forgot that he was too old to cry as he burst into tears.
***
They had to cross two streets to get to Barba’s building. The corner of his block was diagonal from the corner where Noah had started his fruitless trudging. Noah felt defeated, exhausted, and stupid.
While he got out of his cold, wet layers, he told Barba how he’d cut through the park to meet the Uber—being sneaky was part of the plan—and how he’d dropped his phone in a slushy puddle and cracked the corner of the screen. There was water inside, and the phone wouldn’t do anything anymore.
He told Barba how he’d asked the driver to let him out a block away, thinking it would buy him some time. He knew his mom could track his Uber rides and if she guessed too quickly where he was going she might be able to cut him off and ruin the plan.
He glumly explained how he’d gotten disoriented and lost, knowing he must sound like a dumb little kid. Barba listened to the story while stripping out of his own snowy coat and gear. He hadn’t said much, but Noah figured he must be angry, too. He’d had to walk around in the blizzard looking for Noah, so Noah wouldn’t blame him.
“That must’ve been pretty overwhelming,” Barba said when Noah fell silent.
Noah looked up at him. Barba didn’t sound angry, but it occurred to Noah that he’d never really seen or heard Barba lose his temper. “I’m real sorry, Uncle Rafa,” he muttered. His cheeks were so cold that his hot tears stung his skin.
“Do you want to tell me what your plan was?” Barba asked.
Noah hung his head. “No,” he answered, barely audible. "It's messed up now."
“Your mom will be here as soon as she can, she got held up at an accident. The roads are pretty bad out there. Let's go find some warm clothes for you to wear. How’re you feeling? Do your fingers or toes hurt?”
Noah shrugged. “A little but not bad.” He was standing in sopping socks and the bottom six inches of his jeans were wet. His shirt was mostly dry except for his shoulders and the sleeves at his wrists, but despite the warmth of Barba’s apartment he couldn’t stop shivering.
“Strip off your socks for me, buddy, you can leave ‘em on the floor.”
Noah did as instructed and then followed Barba into the bedroom, where he was handed gray sweatpants and a blue sweatshirt along with a thick pair of wool socks.
“Go ahead and get changed in the bathroom, you can leave your wet clothes on top of the hamper.”
“Okay.”
“You guys might have to stay the night here,” Barba said. “It’s pretty bad out. If your mom weren’t already on her way here I’d tell her she should stay home.”
“No presents in the morning,” Noah mumbled, unable to look up into Barba’s eyes. “It’s okay, I don’t deserve Christmas.”
“You made a mistake, Noah,” Barba said gently. “It happens to the best of us. All that matters is that you’re here and you’re safe. You’re right, if you have to stay the night, your presents won’t be here in the morning. But you’ll open them when you get home. Go get changed, please.”
Noah bucked up his courage. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m not remotely angry with you,” Barba answered, and Noah blinked the tears from his lashes. “Would you like a hug?”
Noah sniffled, his chin wobbling as he nodded. Barba stepped forward and wrapped the boy in a hug. Noah was still holding the clean clothes under one arm, but he put his other arm around Barba’s waist.
“You’re safe, Noah.”
“I love you, Uncle Rafa,” Noah mumbled against Barba’s sweater.
“I love you, too, kiddo,” Barba answered softly.
***
Once Noah was dressed in sweats that were baggy but not as oversized as Barba might’ve expected, and had wolfed down a generous helping of soup with crackers and a grilled cheese sandwich—and a cup of hot chocolate with melty marshmallows—it was clear that the boy was feeling much better. He was sitting on the sofa, bundled in a blanket and sipping his second cup of hot chocolate, watching Klaus on Netflix.
Barba didn’t want Noah to know that he was worried about Liv, but it was difficult to keep himself from pacing. He’d already thrown Noah’s wet clothes into the wash and hung up his soggy backpack, and made another batch of soup and sandwiches, and he wasn’t sure what else to do with himself.
He hadn’t heard from her for nearly an hour, not since he’d told her that Noah was safe and she’d told him that she needed to stay and assist at a multiple-vehicle pileup. Barba couldn’t see anything but snow outside his windows. He sat beside Noah and tried to watch the movie, but when he finally heard the knock at the door he was back on his feet in an instant.
She opened the door and let herself inside before he could get there to open it, and the sight of her face was enough to bring cool relief flooding into Barba’s stomach. Liv pushed the door closed behind herself and stomped melting remains of snow from her boots.
“Smells good in here,” she said, pulling off her snowy hat and slapping it against her leg. “Sorry,” she said, grimacing as she realized how wet the floor was beyond the mat.
“I figured you hadn’t eaten,” Barba answered, helping her unwind the wet scarf from around her neck. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” she said, letting him assist her out of her coat, too. “Everything alright here?” she asked, looking over at her son. Noah was standing near the end of the sofa in his borrowed sweats, with big wool socks on his feet and a wary expression on his rosy face.
“Fine and dandy like a hard candy Christmas,” Barba quipped, and she shot him an amused—and grateful—look.
“I got lost,” Noah said.
“You snuck away from home, got an Uber by yourself on the other side of the park, and then got lost in a blizzard. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”
“Yeah,” he muttered.
“Where were you going?”
“I was coming here to Uncle Rafa’s, it was gonna be—”
“Why did you get dropped off on the wrong block? Did you give the driver the wrong address or did he—”
“I told him I was gonna walk, it was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Come here,” she said, and Noah shuffled toward her in his thick socks. When he was within arm’s reach she grabbed him and pulled him in for a hug. “Thank God Rafael was home to go find you. What’s wrong with your phone?”
“It got broke. I dropped it and now it’s got water inside the screen too.”
“I’m angry with you,” she said, her arms tightening almost painfully around him.
“I know,” Noah mumbled.
“But I love you. What matters most is that you’re safe, we’ll talk about the rest of it later when we’ve all had time to calm down.” She drew back to look at his face. “Are you hurt?” When he shook his head, she nodded. “Did you eat?”
“Uncle Rafa made grilled cheese and soup, and hot chocolate.”
“Okay, go sit down while we talk for a few minutes,” she said, and Noah seemed relieved not to be receiving an immediate sentencing. He went back to the sofa and Liv toed off her wet boots beside the door. “As far as Christmas Eves go, this one isn’t making my top ten,” she muttered, and Barba chuckled quietly. “Thank you for going to find him.”
“Of course,” he answered. “He didn’t want to tell me why he was headed here to begin with, but aside from being cold and stressed he didn’t seem any worse for wear. He just got turned around in the snow, kept walking up and down both sides of the wrong block. Also, I put his phone in rice but I’m pretty sure it’s beyond that.”
“The battery was worthless anyway, he’s getting a new one tomorrow.”
“Do you want a change of clothes?”
“We should probably go…” she said, but her eyes cut toward the rattling, snow-blasted window.
“Do you want to waste your breath trying to convince me you want to go back outside? Or would you rather have a nice, gooey grilled cheese and some soup?”
She looked at him. “You’re cheerful for a guy having his Christmas Eve crashed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it wasn’t even Christmas Eve until you got here,” Barba answered, and she made a small sound of exasperation. “Stay. Eat. Drink hot chocolate, watch movies. The storm is supposed to let up in the morning, you should be able to make it out by midday.”
“Do you have another pair of socks like he’s wearing?”
“I could probably find something comparable.”
“I was pretty close to panicking,” she said.
“I know.”
“I couldn’t get here, I didn’t know what—” She cut herself off and shook her head, swallowing. “Thank you,” she said after a moment.
“When he walked around the corner, I grabbed him so hard he thought he was being kidnapped,” Barba admitted quietly, his lips quirking in a crooked smile. “I’ve never been so relieved to see anyone in my life.” He glanced toward the couch and lowered his voice even further, adding, “I think the feeling was mutual.”
“Thank God I could see where the Uber picked him up and dropped him off, at least.”
“I can hear your stomach.”
“I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“Hence the waiting food,” Barba laughed, gesturing. “Get into some dry clothes, eat some warm food, and then you can interrogate my young client.”
She raised her eyebrows. “He retained counsel?”
“Friends and family perks include pro bono representation.”
“Do you mind if I take a shower?”
“No, just leave a quarter on the counter,” he joked. “I’ll keep the food warm, and you can find whatever you want to wear in my dresser. Oh, wait,” he said, passing her to cross toward the bathroom. “Come here.” She followed him, looking at her son bundled up on the sofa. When she got to the bathroom doorway, Barba was pulling something from the cupboard beneath the sink and he turned toward her, thunking the item onto the counter with a dramatic flair. “Merry Christmas,” he said.
She looked at the unopened bottle of bubble bath and laughed. “Seriously?”
“I’m always serious,” he agreed. “We’ve got everything under control. Trust me.”
Her gaze slid back up to his. “The relief I felt when I knew he was with you…” She stepped forward but hesitated, searching his face. Barba opened his arms and wrapped them around her when she moved gratefully into his embrace. She hugged him, drawing a deep, comforting breath, and Barba pressed a kiss to her temple.
He could feel the tension leaving her body.
***
Noah was sound asleep on the sofa when Liv emerged from the bathroom. He was lying on his side, head on a pillow, covered in a fuzzy blanket. He was snoring softly. The television was still on but the volume was turned down low.
Barba was at his small dining table with his laptop open in front of himself, but he closed the computer when he saw Liv. “Feel better?” he asked with a smile.
She did. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a maroon Harvard hoodie, and heavy socks. Her hair was a little damp at the ends, but she was warm and the clothes were soft. She was also hungry.
“Much. Thank you,” she said quietly, crossing toward the table as Barba got to his feet. “Did you advise your client to sleep to avoid questioning?”
“I did not, but it was a stroke of brilliance on his part.” Barba gestured toward a chair and headed into the kitchen to serve her food. “I don’t have any wine on hand. Scotch?”
“Water is fine. Did you look in his backpack?”
“No. Should I have?”
“I don’t know,” she said, glancing at the bag hanging by Noah’s coat. “I don’t understand all the secrecy. If he wanted to come see you, he could’ve just asked.” She sat at the table despite the urge to go rifling through her son’s belongings.
“He said it was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Yeah, well, running away from home was certainly unexpected. Thank you,” she said when Barba put her soup and sandwich in front of her. “Did you eat?”
“I did.” He didn’t mention that his own food had settled like a greasy lump into his stomach, adding to his worry-induced heartburn as he’d watched the clock and waited for her knock or text. He gave her a glass of water and seated himself across the table. “I feel bad I don’t have any presents for him to open in the morning. I could wrap up a tie or something. Box of granola?”
“He’ll be lucky if he gets any presents at home,” she said, but they both knew she was bluffing. While she still needed to know Noah’s reasons, he’d certainly learned a lesson. Any punishment she added would be mild in comparison.
“I almost didn’t put up a tree this year,” Barba said. “Mom’s out of town, which is good, because there’s no way I was schlepping through this weather to go to Mass.” He considered. “I’m glad I put it up, now. At least it’s something.”
She ate in silence for a minute and he pretended not to watch her. “You make a good grilled cheese,” she finally said.
“It’s on my résumé. The secret’s in the cheese. And bread.”
“Do you think it would be unforgivable to look through his backpack?”
“Are you asking his lawyer or a friend of his mother’s?”
“Friend.”
“I think there’s a line between respecting his privacy and protecting his safety, and he’ll understand that he crossed it.”
“Hm,” she answered, considering as she ate.
“You two can have the bed, by the way. I’ll take the couch.”
“Do you have a sleeping bag? He can sleep on the floor.”
“I don’t…I’m not sure you know this about me, but I’m not much of a camper.” He grinned when she laughed. He pointed at her empty bowl. “More?”
She shook her head. “Thank you.” She got to her feet and carried her bowl and plate to the sink before he could grab them for her, but instead of walking back to the table she detoured to grab Noah’s backpack. She didn’t feel comfortable going through his stuff, but she also needed to know that she didn’t have to worry about him sneaking out again. If she could find answers in his bag then she wouldn’t need to wake him to ask questions, and the rest of the discussion could wait until morning.
She carried the wet backpack to the table, where Barba watched without comment, and set it on a wooden chair. She unzipped the top of the bag and spread it open. There were three wrapped presents inside, and she pulled them out carefully. The corners had gotten a little damp, but they were otherwise surprisingly undamaged.
One was a gift that she’d wrapped for Noah, which he must’ve swiped from beneath the tree. It was his new phone, although she didn’t think he knew that. She had no idea what was in the other two packages, matching rectangular boxes wrapped in Rudolph paper. One was addressed: Mom, open on Christmas Eve, love Noah and the other had the same message to Uncle Rafa.
Liv met Barba’s eyes and he raised his brows, offering a shrug. She set the presents on the table and used her phone’s flashlight to look into the backpack. There was a plastic bag, and she pulled it out. Inside were several candy canes, a handful of Hershey’s Kisses and foil-wrapped Santas, a ziploc bag containing three of the Christmas cookies she and Noah had decorated that morning, Noah’s stocking with the top folded over so nothing would fall out, a roll of clear tape, and three sprigs of plastic mistletoe.
“This is fascinating,” Barba said. “I feel I’m Watson and you’re Sherlock Holmes and I’m about to watch you solve a mystery.”
She looked into the backpack again and pulled out a worn hardcover of Twas the Night Before Christmas. “We read this together every year,” she said as she set the book on the table. She reached into the pack and pulled out a wadded up ball of Christmas pajamas. They were dry, but she knew they weren’t clean because he’d worn them the night before.
“Guess he didn’t need my clothes,” Barba remarked.
She pulled out another plastic bag with two smaller presents inside. One said Merry Christmas Uncle Rafa, love Noah (open on Christmas!) and the other was identical aside from being addressed to Mom.
The last item in the backpack was a spiral notebook with TOP SECRET written carefully on the cover. Liv opened it, and at the top of the first page Noah had written: Operation: Happy Christmas!
Her eyes scanned the page and she exhaled a puff of breath through her pursed lips. Barba got up and rounded the table to stand beside her, reading the page.
“Shit,” he muttered.
They stood in silence, each rereading the list again:
- Get Uber to Uncle Rafa’s
- Call Mom to come
- When Uncle Rafa isn’t looking, hang misseltoe over his door
- When he lets Mom in they have to kiss!
- Uncle Rafa invites us to dinner
- Mom and Uncle Rafa open Christmas pajamas!
- Uncle Rafa says we should stay and he reads the book
- After Mom and Uncle Rafa go to sleep, hang other misseltoe so they get surprised with kisses! And chocolate ones too because Uncle Rafa likes puns
- We all open presents in the morning and then have breakfast in our pajamas
- Everybody is happy!
“That’s a pretty comprehensive plan,” Barba said after a few moments. “As his legal defense I can’t say I approve of putting everything in writing…” He trailed off when Liv looked at him.
“I know he misses you but I had no idea he thought…This is embarrassing,” Liv said.
“Is it?” Barba asked, and she got the distinct impression she’d hurt his feelings. “He’s still young enough to believe in love at first kiss. Don’t think it never occurred to me to corner you under some mistletoe, if I had the romantic optimism of a twelve-year-old—” He stopped abruptly and sighed.
“The romantic optimism of cornering someone into kissing you?”
“I heard how it sounded,” he said. “I’m just saying, little Cupid Claus risked his life to make you happy, I can think of worse things than your son loving you that much.”
“To make us happy,” she said. “He seems to think it’s what we all want.”
“Well, you know what Meatloaf said.”
“Cupid Claus?” she repeated with a small laugh. “That’s funny.”
“Thank you.”
“I would do anything for love?” she guessed.
“No.” He reached over and picked up one bunch of plastic mistletoe and a green foil-wrapped kiss, turning them over in his hands as he studied them, and he snorted softly in amusement. “He’s right. I do like puns.”
“What Meatloaf song?”
“You sure you don’t want something else to drink?”
“Two out of three…? Which two of us do you think want this?”
“God, you’re too fucking smart,” he muttered under his breath. “Never let me get away with a single—”
“Noah set this up, obviously it’s what he wants. I’m really curious, Barba. If offhand, flippant comments are your way of reminding me that you never wanted—”
He turned toward her so abruptly that she stopped, blinking in surprise at the flash in his eyes. “You can not honestly tell me that you don’t know better than that, Olivia,” he said in a low voice.
She swallowed, heart thumping in her chest. She couldn’t break away from his gaze. “You’ve never said—”
“It’s not easy to tell you something you don’t want to hear.”
Deflections and accusations piled up on her tongue, but she knew they were unfair—unfair to him, and unfair to her. They’d hurt each other with unspoken words, and they’d hurt themselves, and she wasn’t even sure why. She swallowed the barbs; there was no reason for both of them to feel the sting.
He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “You’re right. I couldn’t ask for something I wasn’t willing to give.”
His expression was achingly earnest. “I’ll say the words, Liv. I’ll lay my heart at your feet if you promise not to stomp on it.” He searched her face. “I promise not to stomp on yours,” he murmured.
“Do you think…” She paused, licking nervously at her lower lip, and his gaze flicked down toward the movement. “You think maybe his plan is working?” she whispered.
Barba slowly raised an arm, holding the mistletoe over her head, and searched her eyes. “Do you feel cornered?” he asked softly.
“No,” she breathed. He held out his other hand, green Hershey’s Kiss resting in his palm. She smiled and gently pushed his wrist aside. She leaned closer, eyes scanning his face for hesitance. “Rafa,” she whispered, and she heard the quiet click in his throat as he swallowed. “How long do you think you can hold your arm like that?”
“As long as you need,” he said, and his voice was a low rumble that she felt deep inside.
She touched her lips to his, nothing more than a light graze, and felt his body shift instinctively closer. Their breaths mingled for long moments, soft and warm, their gazes locked, and then he tipped his chin to pass another light, questioning kiss across her lips.
“Liv,” he breathed against the corner of her mouth.
“Mom?” Noah’s voice called sleepily.
She felt Barba’s small sigh of regret before he took a half-step back. He lowered his arm and tossed the mistletoe on the table, offering Liv a little smile that was so soft and sweet it made her chest ache.
“Yeah, honey,” Liv answered, moving away from Barba’s warmth with reluctance.
Noah’s head appeared as he sat up on the sofa, and he spotted all of the items from his backpack spread across the table. “You read my plan?”
“Had to do it, bud,” Barba said. “We were worried about your safety.”
Noah looked at Liv. “Are you real mad?” he asked warily.
“No, honey. But we should talk about it.”
Now that he was fully awake, Noah’s focus had sharpened. “What were you guys doing?”
“Stealing a kiss,” Barba said. Liv cut him a look and Barba smiled, holding up the green chocolate. Noah laughed as Liv's lips curved in a mixture of affection and amusement. Barba handed her the candy and reached past her to pick up Twas the Night Before Christmas. He started toward the living room. “Is it time to read this?”
Noah perked up, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. “Yeah! Can we have more hot chocolate?”
“How many cups did you have already?” Liv asked. When Noah glanced at Barba, Liv also turned her attention to the attorney.
Barba arched an eyebrow. “I’m no snitch.”
Noah told Barba in a loud whisper: “Say it’s privileged.”
“What’re you, a lawyer?” Barba quipped.
“No,” Noah laughed. "That's what you would say."
Barba winked at him. "You can take the lawyer out of The Bronx but you can't take The Bronx outta the lawyer."
“The joke's on you two, because I wanted hot chocolate anyway," Liv said. "I’ll make another round for all of us, but that’s it for sugar tonight. May I?” she asked Barba, hooking a thumb toward the kitchen.
Barba was still smiling. “Make yourself at home.”
Noah looked from Liv to Barba, gauging the mood. “Do you wanna open your Christmas pajamas?” he asked, a sly little smile curving his lips.
“I think maybe we’ll save those for next year,” Liv said, meeting Barba’s eyes across the room. "We can work on a new plan together."
“Next year?” Noah repeated, his smile stretching into a grin.
“Captain Benson,” Barba said, giving Liv a serious look only partially undermined by his smile. “My client and I would like to negotiate the right to have cookies with our hot chocolate.”
“And candy canes!” Noah added.
“And one candy cane apiece,” Barba agreed. He lowered his voice to ask Noah in a stage whisper: “On what grounds?”
“It’s Christmas!” Noah exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
Barba grinned at Liv and threw up his own hands. “It’s Christmas,” he agreed.