Chapter 13
Stephen could not remember the last time he had seen so many trees. Trees so dense, they obscured the numerous Kwik Fill stations and fast-food joints being offered on the roadside signs. If he had to guess, he would have to say it was not since his childhood in rural Pennsylvania. Stephen’s life was nothing but trees in those days; ancient chestnut oaks for hide-and-go-seek, Sycamores down by the lake that were perfect for rope swinging.
“Dah-dee! Stee-ben; ‘es tee’s ‘n snow!”
Stephen looked up into the rear-view mirror of the Porche to see Peter pointing out the window. A Christmas-themed book was open in his lap, but that had been on the same page since North Tarrytown.
“Snow p’etty!”
“Yes, the snow is pretty,” Tony acknowledged in a bright voice, “very exciting, huh?”
“Yeah!”
“Definitely a lot more exciting than a trip to Central Park,” Stephen added, bringing his attention back to the road.
Tony had relinquished full control of his car and was living his best life in the passenger seat. It had been his only stipulation for the cabin trip. Stephen could pick the tree, the decorations and play Mariah Carey’s infamous ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ on a loop for the next week – as long as Tony did not have to drive.
“Hey, little duck!” Tony turned to his boy, “Have you seen any bears yet?”
“No,” Peter shook his head, “no b’hears!”
“Yes, bears,” Tony said seriously, “they’re out there, making cold porridge…sleeping on lumpy beds…”
Peter laughed and kicked his legs.
“Dah-dee silly!”
As the trio rolled into Ossing, Tony pointed out a sign for a gas station and rest stop and requested that Stephen pull off.
“I’m dying for a Red Bull,” he shook his drained coffee cup, rattling the ice inside, “I think that kid at Starbies shorted me one of my three espresso shots.”
“Oh, the horror,” Stephen deadpanned.
“Plus, I haven’t checked Peter since we left the city.”
At this, Stephen turned up his nose in disgust.
“You’re not going to change him in some filthy gas station bathroom, are you?”
“No,” Tony sighed, “if he needs a change, I’ll do it in the back of my hundred-and-twenty-thousand-dollar car…like I always do.”
“You’re such a good daddy,” Stephen said before pecking Tony’s cheek with a kiss.
“Yeah, yeah…”
The rest-stop was an unexpected charmer. It was an older Tudor style chalet, complete with diagonal metal caming on the windows. Glistening white snow was piled on the sloped roofs. A bright red neon sign tempted visitors with freshly made kolaches, pierogis and coffee.
“Snow!” Peter giggled as Tony hefted him out of his car seat.
“Yes, we’re going to have plenty of time to play once we get to the cabin,” Tony said, “so, please be a good boy and stay close.”
“Gas is only two-eighty here; I think I’ll fill up,” said Stephen.
“And I’ll check out the bathroom situation,” Tony gave the building a cursory glance, “this place seems pretty nice, and I’d hate for you to have to pull out all the suitcases just so I can change Peter.”
“I didn’t even think of that,” said Stephen, “but I don’t mind if-”
“B’hear!” Peter chirped, “Dah-dee! See? ‘Es b’hear!”
Both men followed Peter’s pointing fingers to the large wooden bear at the station’s entrance.
“Oh, I do see,” Tony said as he took the boy’s other hand, “let’s go take a look and then do a diaper check.”
“No,” Peter laughed as if his father had suggested a game, “no potty!”
“We’ll see about that…”
“Don’t forget this,” Stephen pulled the diaper bag from the back.
“Oh, thanks!” Tony laughed at himself. “Come on, little duck! If you’re good, maybe I’ll get you a pierogi!”
“Poh-gee!”
Peter was adorably dressed in a pair of red overalls with a long-sleeved onesie underneath. A wool knit cap barely contained his curls. Even some of the grizzled old truckers out front had a small chuckle as Peter waddled past, giving them a wave and a chirrup.
Stephen watched the father and son duo through the windows of the Porshe as he pretended to fiddle with his wallet and watch, making sure they were full obscured by the bathroom hallway before he…
The Porsche pinged as the back gate slowly rose open. Stephen went right to his overnight bag.
Buried beneath his deodorant and face cream was a little black box. A little black box that held all his hopes for the future.
Inside the box, nestled in the taut satin was a white gold wedding band…
…with a square cut onyx stone with subtle inlays of half-carat diamonds on each side. Because Tony Stark did not do basic. Stephen knew a portion of a ‘yes’ to his proposal rode on the flashiness of the ring.
Another large portion was this week; he had to get it right. Peter needed to have the most magical Christmas ever, as well as a few cozy moments of spiked hot chocolate in between so Stephen could work his charm. Tony had to be able to see both a husband and a father in the once reserved surgeon.
I am so in over my head…this is never going to work…mom always complained about how dad was away…
“Dah-dee! Issa bul’dah snow’mahn!” Peter’s delighted cries echoed out across the station. Stephen hastily packed up the ring and went back to the pump.
“We can build a snowman when we get to the cabin,” said Tony, “c’mon, little duck – no! You cannot bring that stick!”
Stephen pretended he could not hear the commotion as the two approached. He stood with his hands in the front pockets of his thermal vest, rocking back on his heels and humming a little tune.
“What’s the damage?”
“Oh! Hey!” And acted shocked when Tony walked up beside him. “Not too bad; but, um…,” he pointed to the overstuffed paper bags in his boyfriend’s arms, “Feeling a bit peckish?”
“You can’t have a road trip without snacks!”
“Dah-dee poh-gee?” Peter came toddling up to Tony’s side, “Poh-gee me?”
“Yes, because you were so good and let daddy change you without a fuss, you can have a pierogi.”
“Yay!”
Tony got the bags settled in the front before helping Peter into his car seat.
“Hey babe?” He called over to Stephen, “I didn’t pack any bibs in the diaper bag; can you grab some from the back?”
“Of course!” Stephen said in his chippiest husband-material voice. He pulled one out from the back; an adorable terrycloth bib with reindeer on it.
“Think he’ll be that messy?” Stephen asked as he handed it over to Tony.
“Foolish mortal,” Tony arched an eyebrow, “Peter wanted the strawberry filled pierogi…he’s going to look like he committed a murder once he’s done with these.”
“Stah-berry,” bit into the pierogi, causing the reddish goo inside to squirt over his bib.
“I’ve seen surgeries less gruesome…,” Stephen muttered.
“Told ya so.”
After a brief respite and exhausting an entire bag of wet wipes on Peter’s hands and face, the trio was back on the road. Stephen was relieved that Tony had grabbed some savory pierogies with potatoes, cheese, and ham. There was also an assortment of Red Bulls, diet soda and bubbly spring water for them to wash it down with.
As the day wore on, there were less and less places to pull off. The population numbers posted on the village signs got lower and lower. Somehow, there were more trees.
Peter had a massive sugar crash after his pierogi and dropped into a deep sleep.
“I hope he manages to sleep the rest of the way there,” Tony whispered. “I forgot how long this drive feels. I know it’s only four hours but…damn.”
“You’re too used to New York, all the lights and excitement. Being able to get anything you want at any hour of the day, no matter how weird or random,” Stephen shot his boyfriend a smirk.
“Look who’s talking! You said you’d never even been upstate.”
“Yeah, but I told you I grew up in Pennsylvania.”
“I assumed Philly or Pittsburg…,” Tony said slowly, “there’s no way you’re going to convince me you’re a country boy.”
“I was born in Philly, and my father commuted there to a hospital for work. But,” Stephen paused for effect, “I was actually raised in an old farmhouse my parents renovated near Kennett Square.”
“How old of a farmhouse are we talking?”
“Like, eighteen-ninety-something. It was my mother’s dream; I remember she kept all the old claw-footed baths and squeaky floors,” Stephen chuckled. “You couldn’t get away with anything in that house!”
“Wow…” Tony whispered the small word, seeming genuinely impressed with the revelation.
“My father would even take me out into the woods behind our house to chop down the Christmas tree,” Stephen continued. “We’d have to tie it down to this giant sled and pull it back through the snow. And snow in west Pennsylvania can get to be four feet deep. It would take all day, but once we got back mom would be there waiting with warm cookies for me and a glass of Scotch for him.”
Tony nodded but did not speak. A long silence passed between the two men before Stephen asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah…just…,” Tony hemmed a bit, “…never mind.”
“Tony,” Stephen whispered, placing a hand over his boyfriend’s, “what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know why…when you told me your dad was a doctor, I just assumed your childhood looked a lot like mine…,” Tony looked up at Stephen with a soft sort of dewiness in his eyes, “waking up Christmas morning to everything you wanted…but with no parents to watch you unwrap it all.”
“Oh, babe,” Stephen brought Tony’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “I don’t want you to think about any of that. We’re going to have an amazing Christmas. We’re gonna go pick out our own tree, decorate it together with a homemade eggnog recipe I found online.”
“There’s no way Peter’s going to drink eggnog…”
“Well, this recipe calls for a generous helping of Southern Comfort so, no, he will be having a nice bottle of warm milk instead.”
Tony chuckled before asking a needy, “What else?”
“If you don’t mind spoiled surprises, I got Peter a custom stocking to hang on the mantle.”
“Oh really?”
“It has his name and a spider on it.”
“Geeze – he’ll love it!”
“And when he wakes up on Christmas morning,” Stephen put another kiss on Tony’s hand, “we’ll both be there with some hot cocoa and cinnamon rolls to watch him open his presents; every last one.”
Another silence came over the two men. There was no tension in the beautiful quiet as snow began to fall around them. It was the sort of pause that happened when nothing needed to be said; when all was well, and the world was at peace.
The Porsche rolled up to the cabin at a quarter to five. The sky was a melt of pastels and a few snow flurries had begun to collect on the steep roof of the cabin’s a-frame. It was a massive structure; four bedrooms and four bathrooms and a gourmet kitchen according to Tony’s boast.
“Not to mention a giant in-ground fire pit in the back,” he looked back and the now alert and giggly Peter, “the perfect place to roast some s’mores!”
“S’moes!”
Stephen volunteered to unpack all the luggage while Tony got Peter out so he could toddle and stretch his legs.
“Es’ cold!” Peter laughed as he picked up handfuls of snow and then dropped them to the ground.
“Well, yeah, you wouldn’t let me put your mittens on!”
“No’iteens!”
“You got the keys?” Stephen asked once he got all the luggage to the door.
“Oh, right,” Tony fished about in this pocket, “here ya go! Uh, just drop me and Peter’s stuff in the living room, I’ll come in and get it in a sec.”
“Want me to start dinner?”
Tony’s eye grew round with surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Stephen laughed, “go ahead and let Peter burn up some energy. Maybe we can get him down early tonight and-”
“Dah-dee!” Peter screeched as he triumphantly lifted a stick over his head. “Stick!”
“What is with you and sticks today?”
Stephen did as instructed, and lined up the suitcases beside the large, wrap around sectional. For the diaper bag, he made the effort to hunt down the nursery and leave it on the changing table. No doubt Peter was currently in need of it…he just wasn’t ready to say so.
The backside of the cabin was dominated by windows, each with a stunning view of the snow-capped mountains and forest. As promised, there was also a firepit with ample seating.
The kitchen was a proper chef’s kitchen with all the plates and utensils and cooking equipment tucked away in the natural wood cabinets. There was also a lovely gift basket on the island from the rental company that held an assortment of treats as well as a twenty-seventeen Silver Oak Cabernet Sauvignon. Stephen went ahead and uncorked it and poured himself a glass.
Tonight’s dinner was nothing fancy; noodles, ground beef and store-bought sauce they had picked up at the market at the bottom of the hill. Tony had grabbed some easy breakfast items too, like frozen waffles, eggs and bacon. While salting the water, Stephen heard the door open and a whimpering Peter muttering, “Dah-dee…Dah-dee…” over and over.
“Come on, baby,” Tony’s soft voice consoled him, “let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
“I put the diaper bag in the nursery,” Stephen called from the kitchen.
“Could you grab my smaller suitcase?” Tony called back, “That one has some of Peter jammies.”
“Yeah, just gimmie a sec…!”
Stephen entered the nursery just as Tony got the boy fully undressed. There was clear redness on Peter’s skin near the leg holes of his wet diaper.
“I should have just brought him right in,” Tony sighed, “being in a car seat all day probably didn’t help things…”
“Nothing a little rash cream can’t handle,” Stephen assured before looking to Peter, “Is someone ready for a spaghetti dinner?”
Peter nodded as he wiped away a bit of the snot under his nose.
“Okay, working on it right now; you want me to put some Bluey on the TV for you?”
“Pwease…”
“So glad we drove four hours to watch T.V.,” Tony said dryly as he began to maneuver Peter towards the changing table. “Come on little duck, up we go!”
“I dare you to tell me you have the energy to do anything but watch cartoons and eat carbs.”
“Touché…”
The cabin came with a smart T.V. and Stephen was able to expertly locate and log-in into Tony’s Disney Plus account.
“Stee-ben! ‘Es Booey!”
Stephen turned just in time to catch Peter in a hug.
“Oh! Big bear hug!”
“Beeg b’hear!”
The boy was now dressed in a pair of footed pajamas with a pacifier strap pinned to the chest.
“You look nice and cozy,” Stephen said as they parted.
“Coh-zee,” Peter cooed around his pacifier.
“And a nice dry diaper too, huh?”
“Yeah!” Peter laughed and did a little dance where he wiggled his bottom.
“You’re such a silly boy.”
“Hey, Peter,” Tony was next to enter the living room, a few of Peter’s toys in his arms, “I got orca buddy and your busy book.”
“Biz-b’hok!” Peter plopped down beside the coffee table, “b’hok pwease.”
“Here you go,” Tony laid out the ‘book’, which was just a collection of hand-coordination tasks like buckling belts and matching colors and numbers. He placed the stuffed orca behind Peter on the couch for when the Little was ready to just cuddle and veg in front of the TV.
“You guys want to see something cool?” Tony presented a small remote and pointed it at the fireplace.
“Wah do?” Peter looked up to his father.
“Watch!”
In the glass paneled fireplace beneath the television, a show of dancing blue and purple flames were summoned.
“You booked a cabin with a fake fireplace?” Stephen asked incredulously.
“Hey, it produces heat,” Tony demonstrated as he held up a hand in front of the flame, “perfect for some cuddles on the couch.”
“Dah-dee see?” Peter pointed to the flames, pacifier rapidly bobbing in his mouth.
“I do see,” Tony laughed as he went to kiss his boy on the forehead. “Okay, think you can be a good little duck and sit here and watch TV for a bit?”
Peter nodded enthusiastically.
“Thank you…,” Tony let out a long sigh.
“Dah-dee s’eepy?”
“Just tired,” said Tony, “it’s been a long day, huh?"
“Lon’day…”
“I think I might have a cure for that,” Stephen said playfully as went back into the kitchen.
“Oh yeah?” A curious Tony followed.
“The rental group left us a big basket of treats…including a bottle of cab.”
“How is it?” Tony pulled out one of the barstools beneath the island.
“It’s pretty good; want me to pour you a glass?”
“Yes, please.”
The two men talked with the sauce and meat simmered together in the pan, filling the house with the savory smells of rosemary, thyme, and garlic. Peter babbled back at the TV whenever the Heeler family would sing and dance.
I should have gotten the ring out…maybe this could be the moment…
“You know,” Tony began as Stephen poured each of them a second glass, “had I known you were handy with an axe, I might have gotten a cabin with a real fireplace.”
“Because that’s what I want to do with my one free week; chop firewood.”
“It would be pretty sexy,” Tony purred, “you out there, shirtless, just a pair of tight slacks and suspenders…”
“Your child is here; you do realize that, right?” Stephen chuckled.
“So, save the Paul-Bunyon-fantasy-talk for after Peter goes to bed?”
“Probably for the best.”
“Hey, wait!” Tony cried just as Stephen lifted his glass for a sip.
“What; what’s wrong?”
“We should toast,” said Tony.
“Oh, right,” Stephen laughed, “and what shall we toast to?”
“The best week ever,” Tony smiled.
“To the best week ever then.”
The glasses clinked.
At least…I hope it will be…