Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [2]

The Reason for the Season

I

“D

ON

’

T

do this to me, man.” Adam Everett stood in the lobby

of his dorm, a small duffel bag at his feet, and stared at his
cell phone in disbelief. Ridiculous as he couldn’t see the face
of his friend in the matte black surface, but sometimes
instinct won out over sense. “I’ve been waiting for almost an
hour.”

“Sorry.” Jim’s laughter after the apology proved the

words false. “But she gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse, or at
least one hell of a blow job.”

“Don’t tell him that!”
Adam heard the indignant squeal in the background,

the faint slaps and giggles audible over the crappy college
radio station Jim listened to and thought made him cool.
Enough to grasp that Jim’s girlfriend didn’t appreciate the
comment. But he found it hard to be concerned about Lori’s
injured feelings when not only would he bet the statement
true, but he ended up being the one left hanging.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Adam didn’t know

which made him madder: himself for whining, or Jim for
screwing him over once again. He kicked his duffel to the
side, trying to stay out of the way as the few remaining
residents rushed around him, eager to head out and away
from the grind of the semester.

“You can get a ride with someone else. Everybody goes

home for Christmas break.” Jim’s voice sounded slow and

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The Reason for the Season [3]

lazy. Probably stoned again, and he had promised Adam he
wouldn’t get messed up and drive.

“Yeah, and everybody’s already left.” Adam paced, his

boots scuffing across the tile floor, and struggled to keep his
anger from bleeding through into his voice. He should have
known better than to count on Jim. They were the last ones
out of their circle of friends still on campus, all because Jim
had promised to pick Lori up after work. Mentioned how this
would be his only chance to see her for two weeks, and she
didn’t care to drive in the snow. Well, then why did she
choose a college in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula?

“S’not a big deal, just offer to pay for gas like you did

me.”

A trio of girls pushed past him, bundled against the

weather in colorful skiwear and talking a mile a minute. The
blonde on the end hit Adam with her bag, knocking him in
the shoulder as she passed, and she waved rather than
stopped. “Sorry,” she called out, pulling a knit cap down over
her curls. They climbed into the SUV waiting in the front
circle and drove off. The vehicle’s tracks were quickly erased
by a fresh powdering of snow.

“That’s the problem, asshole.” Frustrated, Adam ran his

hand through his hair. Easy for Jim to act like this was no
big deal. “I paid you already. I need my money back.”

“You snooze, you lose.” Jim laughed again, overpowering

Lori’s voice, faint and questioning over the fragile connection.
“The tank’s full and we’re on the road.”

“The car’s big enough for all three of us.” Adam hated

having to ask, and didn’t want to be a passenger when the
driver was under the influence, but he had promised his
older sister, Sherry, he’d be home this holiday, and he

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The Reason for the Season [4]

couldn’t disappoint her. Of course, that had been before the
transmission on his car had gone out, and he’d had to
scramble for a ride. Maybe he’d be able to talk Jim in to
letting him drive, at least until he came down. “Come pick
me up.”

“Not happening. I’m a one-woman man, not a one-man

man like you. Aren’t I, baby?” Adam fumed, forced to listen
while Jim and Lori exchanged sloppy kisses. “Besides,
change of plans. We’re heading west, not south. Leaving all
this winter wonderland crap behind.”

“Vegas, here we come,” Lori yelled enthusiastically into

the phone. “Woohoo.”

“Jim,” Adam had to shout over her voice. “Don’t you

hang up on me. Jim?” Lori kept hollering even as Jim
disconnected and left him hanging on to dead air. “You
asshole.”

Adam hit the redial on his phone and listened as it

immediately transferred to voicemail. The fucker had blocked
him. Impatient, he hung up and dialed Jim’s number again,
only to get the same result. He ended the call, too mad to
leave a message, and stared out the glass doors. Snow
blanketed the sidewalk and everything else visible from the
front entrance; barren trees and shrubs hidden under their
coating of white. Low-hanging clouds blocked the late
afternoon light and hinted at the long night still to follow.
Thick, heavy flakes continued to fall as steadily as they had
for the last several hours. The newscasters kept calling for
the storm of the decade. Adam called it a pain in the ass.

With a shrug Adam reached for his duffel and slung the

strap over his shoulder. He pulled on his gloves and
tightened his scarf around his neck before he pushed open

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [5]

the glass door, flinching at the first blast of cold air. No
giving up. He had promised Sherry he would come home,
and that’s what he intended to do.

A

DAM

’

S

footsteps echoed through the deserted corridors of

the student union. Most of the campus buildings were
already locked down for the holiday and any students
staying during break had moved over to a temporary dorm.
Adam had spent the last couple of years the same way,
drifting around the ghost town and waiting to be let back
into his room once college life began again.

The ridesharing board hung in the hallway outside the

cafeteria, the normally crowded area eerie with locked doors
and darkened lights. No music or tempting smells to distract
him. No coffee. Adam used his teeth to remove his gloves
from numb fingers and stuffed them in his pocket while he
looked at the listings. Adam had never taken advantage of
the ride exchange services before. Even knowing the campus
approved all postings, he was uncomfortable with the idea of
getting in a stranger’s car or letting a stranger into his.

But what else could he do? He had given Jim his

available cash toward his share of the trip’s expenses and
didn’t have room on his debit card for a bus ticket. Now
Adam needed to find someone willing to trust him enough to
pay up at the end of the ride when he borrowed the money
off his sister. He tried not to think about how much it would
take to fix his car.

An hour later, Adam sat on the floor in the hallway, his

coat and duffel a makeshift cushion between his back and

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The Reason for the Season [6]

the wall, surrounded by scattered pieces of paper torn from
the exchange board. Most of the drivers heading south had
already hit the road. A couple of people who answered their
phones sounded too weird for Adam to consider them an
option, and two had hung-up once he confessed he couldn’t
pay up front. With a groan he stood up, jiggling the kinks
out of his legs and searching for any listings passed over the
first time.

A colorful postcard pinned to the upper right-hand

corner caught his attention. A pure white star flared against
the navy background and intrigued. Adam flipped the card to
the back.

“Do you know the reason for the season?”
Bold letters proclaimed the message, and Adam frowned

as he let the heavy stock drop from his fingers. Sure he did.
Presents, decorations, drinking, and a little relaxation with
some obligatory family tossed into the mix. But he wasn’t
batting a thousand when it came to the goodwill-toward-men
part of the holiday, and time was running out. He hadn’t
made arrangements to stay on campus over the break, and
with no cash for a hotel he would be doubly screwed if he
didn’t find a way back to Flint. Not to mention letting Sherry
down.

Damn.
Adam picked up his phone again and hesitated. He

plastered a smile on his face, all the better to fake a good
mood, and dialed his sister’s number.

“Hey kiddo,” he said when she answered in the first

several rings. “How you doing?” He listened to her quiet
chatter, happy she had been kept busy today and unable to
worry about her pending divorce.

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The Reason for the Season [7]

“Look, my ride is running a little behind.” He shook his

head when her voice changed, disappointment filtering past
her excitement. “No, no, I promise I’ll be there. It’ll just be
later than I thought.”

He let her talk, the actual words not mattering as much

as her mood, and kept searching the board for anything he
had missed. Finally Adam ended the conversation before he
let his situation slip out. “Are you watching the snow? Yeah?
Real pretty. Okay, I need to go. I’ll call you when I’m closer.
Yep, I miss you too.”

Twenty minutes later and Adam felt like he had spent

the entire day in voice mail hell. He never realized so many
people recorded cutesy holiday messages complete with
music and sound effects, and could have happily lived
without that knowledge. Worse, he was no closer to a ride.
He grabbed his phone and tiredly dialed the next number.
The listing appeared older than the rest, the ink smudged,
and he squinted to better make out the last couple of digits.

He closed his eyes, shoulders hunched while he waited

for the call to connect. Expecting another crappy holiday
message Adam was surprised when a rough voice answered.

“Hello.”
Adam paused, taken with the deep, husky tone. Did he

wake this guy up? “Uh hi, my name is Adam Everett.”

“Good for you. What do you want?”
“Sorry.” Adam blinked and scrambled to organize his

thoughts. He needed to pull this off. “I’m here at the union
on campus, and I found the posting on the ride share
exchange. I need to get to Flint and was wondering if your
passenger seat is still available?”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [8]

“My number was where?”
The surprise in the voice wasn’t a good sign, and Adam

slumped back against the wall.

“Uh, the campus ride share? You’re looking for someone

to split expenses?”

“Have you seen the weather report? You want to drive to

Flint in this?”

Adam stood up, the better to help himself think. “That’s

why your number’s here, right? I’m looking for a ride.”

“Cut things a little late, didn’t you?”
Despite the layer of dry sarcasm something about the

guy’s voice resonated with Adam. The steady, low burr
soothed his frazzled nerves, and he crossed his fingers,
hoping for the best. “Yeah, well.” Adam started pacing again,
ignoring the colorful decorations on the walls as he willed
this guy to come through. “My car’s transmission just took a
shit. The ride I had planned bailed on me and is headed to
Vegas with his girlfriend and all my cash. So, to be up front,
I can’t give you any gas money until we get there.”

“Happy Holidays, huh?”
The stranger yawned, the exhalation audible to Adam

and his mind flashed an image of long, lean muscle arched
and stretched across soft cotton. He shook his head to clear
it and tried again, the calm, rational argument he meant to
say lost behind a frantic stream of consciousness that
slipped past his lips before he could stop.

“Look, I’m desperate. I promised my sister and her kids

I’d visit for Christmas. Her husband just split, and it’ll be
their first holiday alone. I’m broke until the start of next
month, and don’t have a place for the night because I didn’t

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [9]

make arrangements to stay on campus during the break,
and all the offices are closed. My buddy stiffed me even
though I know I give better blowjobs than his girlfriend and
everyone else has already taken off. So, if you haven’t hooked
up with a passenger, I could really use some help instead of
the commentary.”

There was a long moment of silence during which Adam

realized exactly what he’d said. Shit. He knocked his phone
against his forehead before daring to place it back to his ear.

“Where are you at again?”
“I’m at the side entrance to the union. 1400 Townsend?”

Adam tried to squash the hope that started bubbling up.
“Does this mean—?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Black Ford truck.”
The line disconnected before Adam said any of the

effusive thank yous trembling on his lips, but he ignored the
discourtesy. It was only an eleven-hour drive. Rude he could
handle, as long as he ended up at his sister’s.

II

T

HE

snow continued to fall, flakes coming down faster the

longer Adam waited. He hovered by the side entrance,
glancing at his phone and checking the time as the sky
darkened. He stared nervously at his reflection in the glass
door, brown hair and blue eyes colorless in the reversed
image and wondered again why he’d gotten such a short cut
in the middle of winter. Should he walk to the main

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The Reason for the Season [10]

entrance? Did the guy understand where to pick him up? A
janitor walked by, unhappy to find Adam in the building and
warned that the outer doors would lock behind him once he
left.

Finally a huge black truck pulled in front of the door,

commercial lettering on the side barely visible in the
billowing white. Adam hesitated inside the door; this was his
last chance to change his mind. He didn’t know anything
about this person. Sure, drivers had to be vetted by the
campus before their number went up on the forms, but crazy
things happened all the time.

Did he want to back out? They wouldn’t turn him away

if he showed up at the temporary dorm and threw himself on
the mercy of the administrators. Sherry and the kids would
be okay. He could just hide until the guy gave up and drove
off.

But it’s the holiday, Adam’s inner voice chastised him.

And this guy did drive out of his way to come get him. The
truck lights flashed, the horn sounding in the still quiet of
the evening. Adam drew in his breath and walked toward the
vehicle, snow crunching under his boots.

The door opened from the inside when he got close.

Warm, heated air poured out and turned to mist, curling and
floating up to mix with the flakes. Soft music drifted out
behind, muffling the low throb of the engine. Adam clutched
his duffel and examined the driver in the dim, interior
lighting. A quick impression of soot-dark hair cropped even
closer to the scalp than his own and piercing eyes were all he
had time to catch before the husky voice he remembered
spoke.

“Get in and close the door. You trying to freeze me?”

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The Reason for the Season [11]

“Sorry,” Adam said, flustered to be caught staring. He

threw his bag behind the seat and climbed in.

“I’m Michael.” Without looking at Adam the driver put

the truck into gear. “Make sure you wear your seatbelt.”

“What? Oh, yeah.” Adam twisted on the leather seats in

search of the restraints and hoped the snow on his jacket
didn’t melt and ruin the soft finish. “I’m Adam. I just want to
let you know how much I appreciate this. I promise I’ll pay
for the gas as soon as we get to my sister’s place.”

“Promise you won’t talk the entire trip and that’ll be

good enough for me.”

Taken aback by the abrupt comment, Adam took time to

absorb his surroundings. The interior of the truck was
spotless. Either Michael recently had it detailed, or he was
neater than most of the guys Adam knew. Of course, none of
their used salt rides compared to the top of the line vehicle
he sat in. “Your truck’s really nice.”

“Thanks.” Michael increased the speed of the wipers and

looked away from the road for just a moment. “I want to keep
it that way.”

“Sure, sure,” Adam stuttered. What did the guy think he

was going do? Adam took a deep breath and unbuttoned his
coat. The heater worked steadily, the warmth releasing faint
hints of leather, aftershave, and what must have been the
hamburger Michael had for lunch into the air. Adam’s
stomach growled, and he automatically put his hand over his
abdomen. He and Jim planned to stop on the drive south,
and Adam hadn’t eaten since earlier in the day. He fidgeted
in his seat, and his elbow brushed across the armrest,
knocking something onto the floor. “Sorry about that.”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [12]

Adam leaned down and fumbled by his feet. His fingers

closed on a hard, rectangular shape, and he raised it to his
face. They were still on campus, and the streetlights
illuminated the object in his hand. “You smoke?” he blurted
out.

“That a problem for you?”
“Well,

the

dangers

of

secondhand

smoke

notwithstanding, it’s not very good for you, and it’s pretty
close quarters in here and—” Adam gave himself a mental
shake. Screw being polite. “Yeah, it is.”

“You always like this?”
Adam risked a quick glance to his left, encouraged by

the small smile visible on Michael’s face. “It’s been a really
crappy day,” he offered.

“We’ve got eleven hours ahead of us, maybe more with

this weather. You think you’ll be able to relax?”

Adam opened his mouth to answer and then closed it.

He ran though a series of possible responses in his head
before choosing the one he thought most likely to appeal in
its brevity. “Sure.” His unease had momentarily settled but
kicked up again when the truck turned left out of the
campus instead of right, two tracks of pavement barely
visible in front of them. “Where are we going?”

“I need to make a quick stop.”
Michael sat patiently in the turn lane, blinker flashing

while they waited for a plow truck to finish clearing the
parking lot of the small strip mall. The driver gave them a
friendly wave as he drove past, undoubtedly heading to his
next job.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [13]

“He’ll be busy tonight,” Adam said as Michael pulled

into a freshly cleaned space.

“You need anything?” he asked.
Adam shook his head as Michael stepped down out of

the truck and entered a drug store. He was younger than
Adam had first thought, taller too. Layers worn as protection
against the cold gave the mysterious Michael’s upper body
some bulk, but his legs were long and slim, his stride
graceful as he crossed the parking lot. Adam jerked his eyes
away when he realized he was staring.

Left on his own in the idling vehicle, Adam took another

look around the interior of the cab. The sky continued to
darken, clouds turning grayer and dropping lower, but the
lights in the parking lot offered enough illumination. A pair
of sunglasses were stuck into the visor on the driver’s side, a
bottle of water in the door and a selection of CDs. Adam
flipped through the discs, mainly blues and guitar. He
recognized a few of the names: Stevie Ray Vaughn,
Bonamassa, and Elmore James. All stuff he listened to.

With no sign of Michael’s immediate return, Adam

reached for the glove box and then hesitated. Yeah, this was
snooping but so far all he’d gotten out of the guy was his
first name. Telling himself he was just being cautious, Adam
pulled the compartment open and stared inside. The owner’s
manual took up most of the room. Some fast food coupons
and a tire gauge. He hadn’t expected a gun, drugs, or
anything that would scream “this is a mistake, get out of the
truck”, but you could never be too careful.

He picked up a small, leather portfolio and flipped

through, glancing at the assortment of business cards stuck
into neat, plastic slots. Most of them were automotive glass

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The Reason for the Season [14]

repair and parts shops. There was a stack toward the back
for a Michael Brennan, owner of Brennan’s Automotive
Repair. Bingo. Adam knew the place; he had driven past
plenty of times on his way to town and thought he’d try for
an estimate on his transmission. Having judged there was
only four or five years of age separating them, Adam was
surprised Michael was listed as the owner.

Adam removed one of the cards and slipped it in his

pocket before he closed the portfolio and placed it in the
compartment. Not wanting to get caught he was about to
close the latch when his fingers brushed against something
with a different texture. Adam lifted it to the light, surprised
to see a photograph.

One corner of the thick, photographic stock creased

forward, and when Adam smoothed the paper back he
realized it was a picture of Michael with his arm around a
man in a military uniform, both of them laughing and
carefree. Adam turned it over. Nothing but the date stamp
from the finishing lab. The photo had been taken a few years
ago, and Adam studied the Michael in the photograph.

Definitely a good-looking guy, his dark hair worn longer,

hanging straight and pushed behind his ears. The force of
his personality shone through the two-dimensional image.
Captured for an instant, posed in front of a stand of trees,
Michael’s broad shoulders were relaxed, teeth a gleaming
contrast against tanned skin. He looked happy and open and
everything he wasn’t in the brief time Adam had been with
him. The man in uniform had Michael’s eyes, and Adam
wondered if they were related.

A car door slammed, the noise loud and near and

causing Adam to jump, his heart pounding with the fear of

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The Reason for the Season [15]

discovery. He quickly put the photograph and portfolio in the
glove box and shut the latch, sitting back against his seat.
Without the extra light Adam noticed for the first time just
how dark it had become. Only a few cars were still in the
parking lot, and he wondered what was taking Michael so
long.

Moments later frigid air rushed into the cab as Michael

knocked his boots against the side of the truck and swung
back into the driver’s seat. He tossed a plastic bag in Adam’s
lap and took off his gloves, brushing snow off his shoulders
and head. The warm and enticing aroma of meatballs and
marinara sauce filled the air and made Adam’s mouth water.

“What’s this?” Adam asked. He had seen the sub shop

when they pulled in, but had decided to hold on to the few
dollars still in his wallet.

“Dinner, if you want.” Michael fit two cups into the

holder between them. “Coffee too. Cream and sugar in the
bag.”

“I can’t take this,” Adam said, embarrassed Michael had

bought him food.

“Eat if you want, or don’t.” Michael unwrapped his own

sandwich. “Either way it’s on your tab.”

It took less than a minute for Adam’s growling stomach

to decide for him, and he eagerly pulled the foot-long sub out
of the plastic. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Michael mumbled around his own

mouthful.

They ate in silence. Adam finished before Michael and

gathered his used napkin and sandwich wrappings and
placed them in the trash bag behind the driver’s seat. He

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The Reason for the Season [16]

sipped the strong, black coffee and watched as Michael took
the lid off the other steaming cup, liberally adding cream and
sugar, much to Adam’s surprise. He had figured Michael
would be a no-nonsense kind of guy.

They slowly pulled out of the parking lot, a glaring, dark

rectangle left behind them, and Adam realized the snow had
completely re-covered the freshly cleared asphalt. Michael
fumbled with the bag from the drugstore and took out a
small package. He ripped it open and popped a couple of
pieces into his mouth without offering to share.

Adam let his fingers spread over the surface of the cup,

enjoying the heat as he turned to look out the window. The
dark lanes of highway had dwindled down to two tracks left
by the vehicle ahead and only when they were back on U.S.
41 did he realize that Michael had stopped to buy nicotine
gum.

III

T

HE

next several miles passed in silence. Adam’s belly

strained just this side of uncomfortably full, and despite the
caffeine hit he felt drowsy with the combination of the
truck’s heater and the inevitable adrenaline crash from the
roller coaster of his day. In the low light of the dash he
watched Michael change the disc in the CD player, oddly
fascinated by the long, sure fingers at work. Half asleep, he
smiled at the opening chords and softly hummed along.

“You recognize the band?” Michael asked in surprise.

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The Reason for the Season [17]

Adam nodded drowsily. “They’ve played in Sault St.

Marie a couple of times. Mato is amazing on the guitar.
Every time we hear Indigenous is playing it’s a road trip for
me and a couple of friends.”

“Not the friend that dumped you today?”
Adam snorted. “Hate to admit it, but yeah. Jim’s an

okay guy, just got a case of the new girlfriend.”

“And a susceptibility to badly given blowjobs?” At the

look on Adam’s face, Michael burst out laughing and Adam
stared, stunned at the difference the wide, uninhibited grin
made to Michael’s somber expression and the way it brought
him closer to the lighthearted man in the photograph.

“Sorry.” Michael shook his head, still smiling at Adam’s

reaction. “Couldn’t help myself. So, with hours ahead of us,
what’s your major?”

Adam tentatively smiled back, surprised at the attempt

at conversation after Michael’s inhospitable greetings. Food
must have put him in a better mood. Adam hadn’t forgotten
his blurted-out confession earlier over the phone and had
worried about Michael’s reaction. But apparently, no big
deal. He settled back against the soft, leather seat and stared
out the window.

“Optometry. At least, the pre-optometry program.” Adam

corrected himself. The city lights disappeared behind them
and Adam felt lost. Everything looked the same, road and
shoulder blending into a deceptive, horizonless sea. The only
indication they stayed on the highway were the tall, reflective
markers on the side. The snow continued to defy gravity, the
swirling flakes trapped in the beams of light from the
headlights and creating a hypnotizing vortex.

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The Reason for the Season [18]

“Care to explain?”
“It’s like pre-med. My bachelor’s focus is pre-optometry

course work, and once I graduate I’ll have another four years
in a college of optometry.” Adam sometimes felt daunted by
the length of study still ahead, but knowing he would impact
people’s lives in a positive and vital manner kept him going.

“So what brought you to Houghton?”
The question was a fair one, Adam knew. Despite the

school’s excellent reputation, the extreme weather took its
toll on all but the most determined. “My dad used to bring
me up here snowmobiling,” he answered. “We took trips all
across the Upper Peninsula. The bridge in town always
fascinated me. I even did a paper on it in elementary school.
Did you know that it’s the world’s heaviest and widest
double-decked vertical lift bridge?”

“There’s a lot to love.” Michael agreed. “Nothing quite

like Michigan’s Copper Country.”

Adam yawned, lulled by the soft music and the low

rumble of Michael’s voice. It was easy to relax in Michael’s
company, but he thought he should stay awake. He at least
wanted to ask a few questions of his own.

“How about you?” he asked Michael. “Are you a

graduate? Is that why you are on the ride board?”

“Not exactly.”
Dissatisfied

by

Michael’s

lack

of

forthcoming

information, Adam pushed a little more. “What’s waiting for
you in Flint?”

“Family stuff.”

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The Reason for the Season [19]

Adam covered his mouth as another yawn escaped.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re not the best conversationalist?”
he asked sleepily.

“It’s been a while.”
“Here’s your chance to practice.” Adam leaned his head

to the right and let the smooth, rolling motion of the vehicle
rock him gently against the soft seats. “I’m a captive
audience.” His eyes closed and Adam was asleep before he
heard any reply.

“

D

AMN

it.”

Adam jerked awake at the low curse. He wiped his

hand across his face and glanced at the dashboard clock.
They’d been on the road for a little over two hours. “What’s
wrong?” he questioned.

“Snow’s getting deep.” Michael’s terse reply woke Adam

up even further.

“This truck’s four-wheel drive, right?”
“I switched over an hour ago.”
The truck jerked against the push and pull of the

elements. The wind whistled through the window seals,
battering the side of the vehicle as it rushed past. Michael’s
hands held tight to the steering wheel, holding steady as the
tires struggled to find traction. The music had changed to a
local news station, an AM band based on the static-filled
reception.

He stared at the world outside the vehicle. The night sky

should have been pitch black, the thick trees along the

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The Reason for the Season [20]

deserted stretch of road adding to the oppressive tunnel
effect, but instead it was oddly bright. The moon was trapped
behind the clouds and the reflective properties of the major
snowfall picked up and magnified the slightest ray of light a
thousand times over, creating an eerie, silvery world. Empty,
cold and desolate.

“So beautiful,” Adam whispered, forgetting he was with

a stranger.

“Been that way ever since the moon rose,” Michael

agreed before he cursed again. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Adam tore his gaze away from unnatural world

surrounding them at the sudden, painful screech of metal on
glass. “What’s that?”

“Snow’s so heavy, lost the damn wiper blade.” The truck

shuddered as Michael came to a slow stop. He turned off the
wipers, cutting off the noise and leaving them in sudden
silence.

“You’re not pulling over to the side?” Adam questioned.
“Snow’s too deep. We’d get stuck.” Michael fumbled

behind Adam’s seat.

“What if somebody hits us?”
“I’ve not seen another set of lights for the last twenty

miles.” Michael set a large flashlight on his lap and pulled on
his gloves.

“Do you have a spare?” Michael’s movements were calm

and unhurried, and Adam wondered if he should just shut
up.

“Wiper?” Michael grunted. “No.”
“What are you going to do?”

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The Reason for the Season [21]

“Stay here.”
Michael opened the door and jumped down. The air that

blasted past him into the interior removed the last of Adam’s
drowsiness, leaving him wide-awake and well aware of the
danger. What would they do if Michael couldn’t fix the wiper?
Next to impossible to keep driving if he was unable to see.
Stranded on a desolate stretch of snowed-in highway with
limited resources was a recipe for disaster. His brain
catalogued the pitiful contents of his duffel. He hoped
Michael was better prepared.

Adam pulled out his cell phone, dismayed to find no

signal. The lying bastard who had sold him the plan had
assured him he’d have coverage. He turned up the radio,
winced at the crackle, and squinted through the tiny cleared
spot of windshield as Michael brushed away snow and
examined the wiper mechanism.

…reports are coming into the WMPL Storm Team of

multiple road closures including Highways US-41, M-28, M-
123, and parts of Interstate 75 due to blowing and drifting
snow, as well as icy conditions. The snow is expected to
continue to fall for the next several hours and a Snow
Emergency has been declared for the entire Keweenaw
Peninsula…

The radio crackled again, the words fuzzing and

becoming indistinct. The small window Michael had cleared
on the windshield was covered with fresh snow and Adam
felt very alone. He grabbed the door handle and stepped
down out of the truck. His cheeks stung from the icy pellets
of snow, so fluffy and soft-looking when viewed inside the
shelter of the vehicle. Adam hunched his shoulders against
the wind and pushed his way through the knee-high drift.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [22]

“I told you to stay in the truck.” Michael didn’t even look

over his shoulder as Adam approached, and Adam realized
he must have seen the interior light come on when Adam
opened the door.

“They’ve closed the freeway. We’re on our own here if we

don’t get moving.” Adam’s eyes hurt, dried by the bitterly
cold wind, and the tips of his ears burned.

“Damn it,” Michael swore as his fingers slipped against

the sharp metal of the wiper when he removed the rest of the
now-useless blade attachment.

Adam stared at the layers of white snow on the truck,

stained red with Michael’s blood. He reached into his jeans
and pulled out the pocketknife his grandfather had given
him years ago. “Let me try something.”

It took a couple of tries before he managed to step up on

the front bumper without sliding off and reach the wiper
blade on the passenger side of the truck. Adam held his
breath against the bitter cold, surprised at how quickly his
fingers numbed. Outside in the storm, it was like being
trapped in a white cocoon. The thick flakes smothered him,
leaving his coat and pants wet and heavy.

The steady vibration of the truck engine against his

stomach was a welcome thread to reality as Adam finally
removed the wiper blade and handed it to Michael who
quickly understood Adam’s plan. Once installed on the
driver’s side, they cleared the snow and ice chunks and
hurried inside the truck. Michael immediately turned the
wipers on to keep the glass clear and the heater to high. The
bare metal on the passenger side ground against the
windshield, carving a path back and forth until the snow
became thick enough to muffle the obnoxious scraping.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [23]

“Shit,” Adam said as he huddled in his seat. He took a

deep breath and then, following Michael’s example, thrust
his hands under his shirt and into his armpits. The dual
sensations stunned him, the welcome warmth a bitter
counterpoint to the frozen blocks of flesh masquerading as
his fingers.

“No kidding.” Michael pulled his hand out of his armpit

and groped for the extra napkins from their dinner. Ignoring
the blood smeared on his clothes he wrapped his finger
tightly and pressed hard in an effort to stop the bleeding.

Adam focused on the tiny drops of moisture collected at

the corner of Michael’s eyes. He had been outside longer and
Adam knew the return of feeling had to be more intense.
They shivered together in companionable silence.

“Let’s not do that again,” Michael finally gasped out over

the noise of the heater fan running at full speed.

“No kidding.” Adam wished he had a hot cup of coffee

right then. He didn’t know if he’d warm his hands on the
sides or just pour it over himself for added warmth.

Michael turned the speed of the heater down and shook

out his hands, blowing on them as he unwrapped the napkin
and peered beneath. “I know you have places to be, but if
they’ve closed the highway all we can do is hold up until the
worst is over.”

“Yeah, but where?” Adam had seen just how desolate a

strip of roadway they were on.

“We should only be a few miles from an exit.” Michael

fastened his seat belt and took a deep breath. “Let’s hope the
fix holds ’til we get there.”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [24]

IV

A

DAM

collapsed on the motel bed. His back flopped onto the

faded, blue plaid bedspread with boneless satisfaction, long
legs dangling uselessly off the end. He knew he should take
off his coat and boots, hang his wet pants to dry and see if
Michael needed help with his hand. But right now he just
wanted to lay back, bask in the heat produced by the rattling
unit under the window, and do absolutely nothing. “We
made it,” he said, staring up at the stained ceiling tiles.

“We sure did,” Michael replied as he picked up the

remote control for the television and clicked through the
stations to the weather channel. “I think those were the
longest miles of my life.”

Adam nodded in agreement. His eyes closed as he

remembered their slow journey to find an exit from the
highway. The single wiper only worked a short distance
before being overwhelmed by the volume of snow and needed
repeated stops to be cleared off enough to continue. They
had been lucky to find a development off the exit complete
with services. Most of the off-ramps in this part of the state
were miles away from any type of population center.

“I’m sorry about the motel room.” Michael sat down on

the other bed and unlaced his boots, grimacing as he
irritated his cut. “You sure this is okay?”

“It’s not like we have a choice.” Adam propped himself

up on his elbows. “Besides, I live in a dorm. This is four
times the size.” He tried to sound unflustered, but the truth
was Adam was a little weirded out by the situation. Sheer

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [25]

luck had scored the last available room at the motel; with
the roads being closed they weren’t the only ones seeking
shelter. But no matter how comfortable he felt around him,
Michael was someone he had just met today and didn’t know
anything about. Sharing a motel room was a lot different
than riding in a car for a few hours.

“Right. I forgot.”
Michael’s boots hit the floor with a thud, and Adam

watched as he pulled his socks off as well and rubbed his
feet. He didn’t want to be caught staring, but this was his
first real chance to get a look at Michael. Adam was
surprised at how much he liked what he saw. His initial
impressions had been accurate, but not nearly enough to do
Michael justice.

This guy was absolutely gorgeous, with high Slavic

cheekbones and an amazingly shy smile. Adam had yet to
get a chance to see the color of his eyes as Michael seemed
uncomfortable meeting his gaze, and it eventually dawned on
Adam that Michael was nervous.

Well, damn. Adam thought he knew what the problem

was. “Look, Michael,” he said slowly, the words bitter on his
tongue. “Yes, I’m gay, but that doesn’t mean you have
anything to worry about, okay? I appreciate you footing the
bill here. I’m not looking to jump you.”

“What?” Michael’s head jerked up and his eyes, a rich,

espresso brown met Adam’s. “No, that’s not… I’m not….” He
took a deep breath. “I don’t want you think I set this up, you
know?”

“Right, like you’d conjure up the storm of the century

just to get a chance with me,” Adam joked, more interested

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [26]

than

he

wanted

to

be

in

Michael’s

unspoken

acknowledgement. The monosyllabic hardass who had
picked him up had been lost somewhere along the snow-
covered miles. Honestly, Michael had surprised Adam from
the moment he stopped to buy nicotine gum instead of
insisting it was his truck and he’d smoke in it if he wanted.

Michael muttered something before he turned the

volume higher on the television. Adam heard the sound of
Michael’s words but not what he said. He debated whether or
not to ask him to repeat it but decided to let things go. He
sat up enough to unbutton his jacket and tossed it off to the
side. God, was he tired. He looked at the clock on the
nightstand between the two beds and yawned. “I can’t
believe it’s only eight. I feel like I’ve been up for days.”

“Me too.” Michael ran his hand over his face, and Adam

tried not to notice the heavy shadow across his jaw. “No sign
the snow is letting up either. I think we’re lucky we found a
place to stop.”

“Probably the first time this place has been full in

years.” Adam was grateful they had a room for the night. He
didn’t expect to find a named chain this far off the beaten
path, but this motel leaned toward the tired end of the scale.
At least, while worn, everything looked clean. “How’s your
hand?”

“Fine.” Michael held it up in demonstration, smears of

blood dried along the side. “Won’t even need stitches. I’ll
clean it up later. Right now I just want to sit here.”

“You sure?” Adam asked.
“Yeah. Just need to thaw.” Michael fumbled one-handed

into his pocket and pulled out the box of nicotine gum.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [27]

Adam almost felt guilty at the frustrated expression on
Michael’s face but told himself it was in Michael’s best
interests.

Adam kicked his boots off and wondered if he should

call his sister. It was early enough, but Sherry wasn’t
expecting him until tomorrow anyway. He’d wait and see
what morning would bring and then decide. They still had to
fix the truck. “I think I’m going to sack out.”

“You don’t want anything to eat?” Michael glanced at

him, jaws furiously working the gum, and just as quickly
turned his attention back to the television.

Adam finished pulling off his jeans, wet from the knees

down, and looked around for something to hang them over
before he gave up and spread the denim out on the carpet to
dry. He stood there in his boxers, his toes digging into the
rough carpeting. “Nah, I’m just going to fall out.”

“Will it bother you if I watch television for a while?”

Michael asked in a thick voice.

“Not even.” Too tired to consider a shower, Adam pulled

back the sheets and crawled into the bed with a groan.
Compared to his bed at the dorm, this one felt like heaven as
it sank beneath his weight. “Thanks for everything today. I
know this isn’t how things were supposed to go.”

There was a long silence and then Michael cleared his

throat. “You’re welcome.”

Adam smiled at the return of the short answers and

pulled the covers higher around his neck. The television
droned on in the background as the newscaster continued to
give an opinion on the storm’s movements and listed the

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [28]

record snowfalls, but he didn’t hear any of it as once again
he quickly fell asleep.

H

E WASN

’

T

sure at first what woke him. Adam lay still, his

eyes blinking as he looked around the dark and unfamiliar
room. It took a minute for the distorted shapes to assume
recognizable form, helped by the sliver of illumination from
behind the curtained window. The smell of wet denim and
wool filled his senses, and he listened to the sound of the
wind outside the door, audible even over the wheezing of an
ancient heating unit.

The insistent press of his bladder forced Adam to sit up

and swing his legs off the side of the bed. He rubbed his
hand against the back of his neck. Despite the constant howl
of the wind, he wasn’t cold dressed only in his boxers and T-
shirt. The heater kicked out an excess of warmth, leaving his
sinuses and skin feeling dry and slightly rough. He wanted
some water.

Adam padded his way over to the bathroom door and

didn’t bother turning on the light. His immediate needs
taken care of, he turned on the tap and splashed cool water
over his face, swallowing to rinse the film from the inside of
his mouth. The rattle of the plumbing at the change in
pressure let him know the motel still had its original copper
pipes, and he wiped his wet hands down his head and neck.

The window beckoned and Adam pulled back a small

corner of the curtain, just enough to let him peer out and
observe the steady snowfall. He was still angry at Jim and
his girlfriend, but he hoped they were okay. Yeah, they were

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [29]

adults, but neither one had sounded fit to drive in this kind
of weather.

A low moan pulled Adam’s attention back to the room,

and his brain finally kicked in. That was Michael, tossing
and turning, mumbling indecipherable words instead of
sleeping deeply. Adam let the curtain fall and walked toward
his own bed. He had just been looking for a ride, not
anything more, but something about Michael intrigued him.
One minute he was gruff and older than he appeared, the
next shy and withdrawn.

Almost nine months since Adam’s last relationship. Jim

accused him of being a serial monogamist and maybe that
was true. But after his breakup, Adam lost interest in dating,
preferring to invest his efforts in his studies. Most of the
guys he met on campus were stuck in perpetual party mode,
and Adam wanted something more, something of substance.

Michael moaned again, muttering and flinging his arm

out from under the sheet. Adam hesitated, about to get
beneath his covers. Should he let him be? A violent motion
from the bed beside him answered Adam’s question, and he
slowly crossed the distance between them, leaning down over
the restless figure. Even asleep Michael seemed so alone.

“Michael,” he said softly. “You’re dreaming.”
When his words didn’t make any difference, Adam dared

to put his hand on Michael’s shoulder, pressing him down
onto the bed and stilling his body for a brief moment.
Michael’s skin felt hot beneath his palm, slick with a thin
layer of sweat. The firm muscle and bone flinched at his
touch and Adam dug his fingers in tighter. “Michael, wake
up.”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [30]

Even in the dim light from the window, Adam could tell

when the espresso-dark eyes finally opened, dazed with the
remnants of whatever ghosts had come to call. Adam held
his breath at that first moment when Michael’s eyes cleared
and the understanding, the recognition of Adam filled them
instead. Something flared between them, an electric
connection sparking along their nerve endings to the point
where their skin touched.

“What?” Michael rasped. “What’s wrong?”
“You were talking in your sleep.” Adam reluctantly

released his grip on Michael’s shoulder and stepped back,
feeling an immediate loss as he did so.

“Sorry.” Michael rubbed his hand roughly over his scalp.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was up anyway.” Adam wasn’t sure if that was the

truth, but he didn’t want Michael upset. “Bad dreams?”

“I don’t know.” His arm covering his eyes, Michael

flopped down on to his back. “Is it still snowing?”

Feeling dismissed, Adam climbed into his own bed, the

sheets cold and rough after the smooth warmth of Michael’s
skin. “Yeah, coming down without a break.”

“Welcome to the U.P.” Michael shifted under the covers,

the material rustling with his movements. “I thought we’d be
in St. Ignance by now.”

“Surprise.” Adam rolled over to face Michael, straining

to make out the dark outline of his shape, so near and yet so
distant. He could hear the strain in Michael’s voice and knew
whatever had troubled his sleep was still there. He didn’t
know why it bothered him, didn’t understand the sudden
pull toward Michael, but Adam couldn’t deny he had felt

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [31]

something from the first moment he heard Michael’s voice
over the phone.

“Michael,” Adam said softly. Not sure what his next

words would be or why, but when the only reply he received
was soft breathing that told him Michael had fallen back
asleep, he closed his eyes. He could wait. “Goodnight,
Michael.”

V

T

HE

rattling of the pipes woke Adam. The curtains were

partially ajar, dark skies and flying flakes visible through the
opening. The newscasters were right in calling this the storm
of the century. He rolled over and stared at the closed
bathroom door before shifting his eyes to Michael’s bed.
Empty and already made, blue plaid pulled to the pillows as
if no one had slept there. Figures. Adam’s duffel sat on the
floor in front of the television, next to one that he guessed
had to be Michael’s, the pants he left out to dry folded and
placed on top. Michael had already been to the truck and
brought in everything they had been too tired to think about
last night.

The television was on, volume turned off. A montage of

images flashed on the screen sharing the havoc the
snowstorm had brought to the area. Next up, an attractive
blonde, lips moving while a stream of warning messages
rolled by beneath her. Temperatures, snow emergencies,
road closures. One after another they recycled again and
again across the television. Adam turned his head as the

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [32]

bathroom door opened and a freshly shaved Michael stepped
out along in a cloud of steamy, soap-scented air. He admired
the close fit of Michael’s gray T-shirt, the sleeves tight across
the biceps and silently watched as Michael pulled a green
flannel shirt over the top.

“You awake?”
The soft grin Adam remembered from last night was

nowhere to be seen. Michael’s face was still and closed,
shoulders once again burdened by whatever weight he
carried.

“I think so.” Determined not to let his disappointment at

Michael’s distance show, Adam stretched. The vertebrae in
his back popped, and he groaned with satisfaction, shifting
for a better position under the sheets. “You’ve been out
already?”

“Yeah,” Michael said as he chewed on what had to be

another piece of nicotine gum. Adam couldn’t believe he still
hadn’t picked up his cigarettes during this stressful time,
but he appreciated it. “I’m an early riser by habit. Brought
back some coffee.” He gestured to the nightstand and Adam
smiled at the covered cup waiting for him.

“Thanks.” Adam sat up and snagged the cup, taking a

sip and looking around the room. “I think this joint was new
in 1955.”

“Maybe,” Michael said. “At least they updated the

television.”

“The important things in life.” Adam solemnly agreed,

pleased with the small show of humor on Michael’s part.

“I found a place within walking distance for breakfast.”

Michael sat on his bed and pulled on a clean pair of socks.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [33]

“Good thing, because until they get a plow in here the truck
isn’t going far.”

“That bad?” Adam set the cup down as his stomach

lurched. He didn’t have any cash, any way to pay for the
motel room or the coffee, or even buy Michael breakfast in
return as a way to say thank you. Adam was used to being
independent and the fact that he suddenly wasn’t bothered
him.

“Wait and see for yourself.” Michael stretched out across

the top of the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “You
okay?”

No. He really wasn’t. The whole situation felt awkward.

He was half-dressed and in bed, and Michael acted like he
didn’t remember last night and their strange moment of
connection at all. “Yeah, just need to shower and wake up.”
Fine. Adam could ignore the situation just as well as Michael
could.

Michael shrugged and grabbed the remote, increasing

the volume of the television. “It’s all yours.”

Then again, Michael may have him beat.

T

HE

small diner appeared to be of an age with the motel.

Both of them frozen in time, any money spent on day-to-day
expenses rather than upkeep or remodeling. Adam wrinkled
his nose at the lingering smell of nicotine permeating the
walls. But after walking through enormous drifts of freshly
fallen snow, Adam was happy to sit on the brown vinyl seat
directly underneath the heater vent despite the suspicious
orange stains, souvenirs of years of addicted customers.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [34]

Michael slid into the booth across from him, and the two

of them looked at the collection of photographs on the wall
behind the register as they pulled off their gloves and coats.
Adam smiled at the sign that read “We serve only Vollwerth’s
fine meat products” and nudged Michael to share the good
news with him. There were advantages to living in the U.P.
and Vollwerth’s, a meat-processing company that had been
family-owned since 1915, was definitely one of them.

Most of the tables were full and the sound of multiple

conversations rose and fell depending on whether or not
breakfast arrived. There was a rough brown mat at the door
and a yellow warning sign set out for the perpetually slick
floor. A teenage busboy scowled when he pushed by with his
mop and bucket, ignoring Adam’s weak smile, his apology for
his share of the slushy mess.

“I can’t believe it’s still snowing.” Adam shivered as he

looked out the windows to the purplish gray clouds. “We
were so lucky to make it off the highway when we did.”

“You fellas sure were.” Their waitress had walked up,

pot of coffee in her hand, and she turned their mugs over
and filled them without asking. Instead of a uniform, her
rounded figure sported jeans and a bright red sweatshirt
decorated with Christmas ornaments. She smiled rather
than scowled, but her resemblance to the busboy was
unmistakable. Adam was reminded again of the trips he
used to take with his dad, and the small, family-owned
businesses they had frequented. Rural Michigan didn’t ever
seem to change. “State Police and Sheriff are breaking out
the snowmobiles. Only way they can see if anyone’s still
stuck.”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [35]

“Any word on when the storm’s supposed to slow

down?” Michael asked.

She waved her free hand; her carefully manicured nails

were painted the same brilliant red as her sweatshirt.
Obviously this wasn’t the first time she had answered that
question this morning. “It’s anybody’s guess at this point.
Where were you all headed?”

Adam was busy counting the sugars Michael put in his

coffee and missed Michael’s reply. She walked off to another
table, and Adam heard the same question being asked.
“Looks like we aren’t the only ones stranded.”

Michael stirred his cup, the creamer turning the dark

liquid milky under his intent gaze. “News was full of reports
of accidents across the state. We might have joined them if
you hadn’t thought of swapping the wipers. Thank you.”

“What can I say? Fear of freezing my butt off inspires

me.” Adam smiled at Michael and wondered at the up and
downs of his personality and exactly what lay behind them.

“I know you’re worried about paying me back,” Michael

said abruptly. “Like I said, I’ll add it to your tab.”

“I’d like to be able to do something other than say thank

you,” Adam said slowly, touched at how Michael had zeroed
right in on his concern and just as quickly eased it. “But I
can’t. I appreciate it.”

“Neither one of us figured on this happening.”
Michael looked as if he was going to say more, but the

waitress walked up again, this time ready to take their order.
Without the worry of paying for his meal, Adam relaxed and
ordered enough food to satisfy his re-awakened appetite.
Judging by both her and Michael’s expressions, it was a lot.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [36]

“What?” Adam asked defensively after she left. Maybe it

was his height, but he had a hard time keeping weight on.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“Have you ever heard of The Donner Party?”
“Very funny.” Adam kicked Michael’s leg under the table

at his reference to the infamous group of settlers trapped by
heavy snows on their journey West and was pleased to see a
grin in response. “Wrong state. And I think I saw on the
History Channel they disproved any stories of the survivors
turning to cannibalism.”

“Just saying, we may have to ration our food if the snow

continues.”

“It’s like being lost in the desert,” Adam responded.

“You’re better off consuming any rations and letting the body
use them rather than eking them out.”

“Like I’ll believe anything you say, Mr. Donner.”
To Adam’s surprised enjoyment, Michael out and out

laughed at the face Adam made in response to his joke. His
head fell back and his eyes crinkled shut and just like that,
whatever had distanced him that morning seemed to vanish.

“Tell me about yourself.” Adam sipped at his coffee,

hoping he could take advantage of Michael’s good humor.

“Twenty-seven, single. Own a repair shop.” Michael

shrugged. “Nothing much.”

“Pretty young to own your own business.” Adam

deliberately ignored the small thrill the word “single” sent
through him, or the fact that Michael even mentioned it.
Something most guys wouldn’t bother with.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [37]

“It was my uncle’s. I started working for him in my

teens. By the time he was ready to retire, all his kids had
moved south for bigger and better opportunities.” Michael
pulled his cup closer to him. “How about you? Single?
Looking to become a Troll again after you graduate?”

Adam shook his head at the nickname given to

Michiganders who lived below the Mackinac Bridge. “No, I’m
hooked. Every time I go back home the noise and the crowds
bother me. Plenty of work for me here. But I am single.
Haven’t met the right person, I guess.” Adam’s eyes caught
Michael’s and they stared at each until interrupted by the
busboy and their breakfast.

“So, what are our plans for the day?” Adam asked as the

first plates of food were set down on the table. He sighed
with satisfaction at the large platter of eggs, bacon, and toast
and moved his silverware to the side to make room for the
plate of hotcakes.

“Not a whole lot we can do until the snow stops and

they get the plows going.” Michael’s Western omelet and
wheat toast was placed before him, and he picked up his
fork with an awed glance at Adam’s side of the table. “We’re
lucky there’s a motel and restaurant here. I did see a gas
station but it looked to be more a convenience store rather
than a service station.”

“Television and euchre, then?” Adam smiled at the

waitress when she brought him some hot syrup. “We could
always make snow angels.”

“How about a fort instead? That’s what my brother and I

used to do.”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [38]

Adam pretended not to notice the way Michael’s smile

disappeared at his sentence or his fork as it clattered down
on to his plate. “I should give my sister a call so she won’t
worry too much. Hopefully there’s a pay phone around here
since my cell isn’t working.”

“The U.P., the last digital frontier.” Michael cleared his

throat. “Are you and your sister close?”

“Not really.” Adam shrugged and gestured with his

knife. “She’s older, was married, and her husband didn’t
exactly care for me once I came out. Still, we’re all each other
has. Our folks were killed in a car accident four years ago,
and we try to keep in touch.”

“But you’re doing all this to see her?” Michael said

questioningly.

“She called.” Adam finished the last of his hotcakes and

pushed the plate aside. “That’s what family does. I’m not
going to let her and the kids spend this Christmas on their
own.”

“That’s nice.” Michael said expressionlessly. “It’s good

you’re concerned.”

“It’s been a couple of years since I made the effort so it’s

the least I can do. I’m sure there’s something I need to make
up for.” Adam thanked the waitress when she refilled his
coffee and glanced across the table at Michael. “How about
you? Any family plans for the holidays?”

“No.”
Adam waited for Michael to expound on his answer. He

blinked when he realized that the one word was all he would
get and thought back to Michael’s reaction when he

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [39]

mentioned his brother. “I know we just met, but I’ve been
told I’m a pretty good friend. Friends talk to each other.”

“And?”
Back to monosyllables. Adam wondered how many

people allowed themselves to be put off by Michael’s attitude.
All it did was make him try harder to break Michael out of
his shell. “And you can talk to me if you want.”

“What if I don’t?” Michael’s jaw set firmly, his fingers so

tight around his coffee cup Adam was afraid it would
shatter. He much preferred Michael’s uninhibited laughter
just moments ago.

“Not that you aren’t pretty, but we’re going to get awfully

bored staring at each other.”

Michael wrinkled his forehead and stared at Adam as if

he were insane. Maybe he was because all Adam wanted at
that moment was to reach out and smooth away the lines
creasing Michael’s face.

Adam gestured toward Michael’s toast. “Are you going to

eat that?”

VI

A

DAM

rolled over and stared at the bed in front of him. He

couldn’t see anything but he knew Michael was there. He
listened while Michael tossed restlessly, each creak of the
mattress and box spring drawing his attention no matter
how he tried to ignore it. The temperature had dropped and
the heater struggled to keep the chill away, the fan blowing

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [40]

and muffling the sound of Michael’s breathing. They were
still in the motel, the roads were still not cleared, and
Michael still hadn’t come around. Adam watched as the
clock on the nightstand ticked past, moment by slow
moment.

The day had dragged by in the same sluggish fashion.

After breakfast they had walked to the convenience store
slash gas station to find beer but no wiper blades. The clerk
passed on the address of a parts store a few miles down the
highway, but they needed the snow to at least slow before
they attempted the drive. Adam had called Sherry collect
from the store’s payphone and let her know about the
additional delay. She had her hands full trying to keep the
kids amused and inside and little time to talk. Adam
watched carefully, but Michael didn’t call anyone.

Michael had retreated again, and spent most of the day

going over the truck with a muttered “better safe than sorry”.
Adam had stood around feeling useless until the chill drove
him back into the motel and he resorted to pulling out the
homework brought along just in case. At least he would be
caught up, assuming the world returned to normal. Right
now it almost seemed like they had been cut off from
civilization and life as they knew it. The news anchors made
joke after bad joke about “the snowpocalypse.” Adam finally
turned the television off after the same reports rolled by for
the third time.

The group of snowmobilers in the room two doors down

had pulled together a poker game, but Adam and Michael
bowed out once they started betting real cash and doing
shots. A couple of ice fisherman joined in, but a fight seemed
to be brewing so they headed back to the room. After

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [41]

repeated channel surfing, a low-budget thriller they had both
seen before proved to be the best bet. Even with cable the
television reception was spotty from the storm’s interference,
and a couple of beers later they resorted to making up
dialogue when the sound dropped out.

Michael had fallen asleep before the movie ended, and

Adam sat in the dark and watched him like something out of
a teenage girl’s vampire fantasy. He wondered if his strange
feelings were a form of cabin fever. Adam had already
decided that Michael Brennan’s Auto Repair would be fixing
the transmission on his car when the trip was over.
Whatever this tenuous feeling turned out to be, he was going
to see it through.

“You’re staring at me.”
Adam jumped at the raspy sound of Michael’s voice. “I

didn’t know you were awake.”

“Can’t sleep.”
“Neither can I,” Adam offered. The silence between them

deepened, growing thicker with the unspoken tension that
had been building since their first phone call. “Talk to me.”

Michael sighed softly, the sound a gentle brush against

Adam’s ears. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your family.” Adam hoped it would be

easier in the dark.

“I’m a son. A brother.” Michael’s voice roughened. “A

disappointment.”

“How?” Adam asked curiously. “You’re a good man. You

work hard and own your own business. You care about
people no matter how you try to pretend otherwise.”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [42]

“I’m not sure. It’s more than my being gay. There’s

always been this feeling, an unspoken expectation I can’t
meet.” Adam was surprised into silence as he watched
Michael turn to face him in the black anonymity of the room.
Faint light seeped in around the window, letting him see the
hand Michael wiped across his eyes. “I don’t even know what
it is they expect.”

Adam waited, instinctively aware that he had to let

Michael share this, his way.

“After a while I stopped trying. Then I accepted the role

they gave me. Maybe you didn’t run into this with your
sister, maybe it’s different with boys. My brother and I… I
loved him so much. He always knew what the expectations
were, how to meet them. He became the good son. I was
anything but. When Will was killed in Afghanistan, my folks
and I lost touch. We didn’t fit anymore without him between
us.”

“I’m sorry.” Adam knew the words were too little, too

late, but Michael needed to hear them. He thought of the
photograph he had found in the glove compartment of the
truck, the closeness so obvious between the two brothers,
and the pain Michael carried with him.

“He’s buried in the Great Lakes National Cemetery in

Holly. They moved to be near him.” Michael’s voice broke. “I
stayed.”

Adam slipped out from under his covers and crossed the

divide to Michael’s bed. He reached out to Michael, letting
his fingers slide across the smooth silk of his shoulder. “I’m
so sorry for your loss.” He sensed what the self-imposed
isolation had done to Michael, already hurting from the

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [43]

death of his brother and his feeling that he needed to
somehow offer himself as penance just for being alive.

Michael stilled beneath his touch, and then he

shuddered, reaching out to Adam as if he’d been waiting
forever for the chance. Adam sighed, relaxing down on the
bed. He pressed against Michael and savored the heavy
weight of Michael’s body over his own. The covers twisted
between them, trapping them together as they paused in
recognition of this first breathless and fragile beginning.

Michael opened his mouth—to protest, to explain, to

deny. Adam didn’t know which, but he placed his finger over
the curve of Michael’s lips instead and waited. When he
couldn’t wait another second he gave in and kissed Michael,
pressing their lips together. He nibbled at Michael’s lower lip,
licked the upper. He smiled when Michael tentatively licked
back, their tongues lightly touching, lips meeting. Adam
tasted the metallic residue of the nicotine gum, impressed all
over again at Michael’s thoughtfulness. He leaned away,
admiring the sharp lines of Michael’s cheekbones etched in
silvery half-light and traced his fingers over Michael’s
eyebrow.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
Michael’s lashes fluttered, his rich brown eyes lost and

afraid. Adam stared into them, searching. “Is this okay?”

At Michael’s slow nod, Adam once again captured his

mouth. This time Adam was the one who shuddered. He
opened his legs, allowing Michael’s body to settle even deeper
between them. Adam moaned, already hard, and he thrust
up into Michael, letting him feel the result of the brief
friction. Adam ran his hands up and down Michael’s back

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [44]

and shoulders. He wanted—he needed to open himself to
Michael, giving him the peace he so sorely lacked.

Michael made a low sound and bit sharply at Adam’s

throat before he rose up, stripped off his T-shirt, and tossed
it to the floor. Adam admired the strong width of his
shoulders backlit against the window.

“Michael,” Adam breathed, his body drawn upward with

a desire to touch the newly exposed skin. Michael lowered
back on top of him, mouth hard and desperate against
Adam’s before he shoved the tangled bedding down and
dragged Adam’s shirt over his head. Their bare chests
pressed together, and Adam felt the frantic beat of Michael’s
pulse when he wrapped his hands around Michael’s wrists.

“Oh my God,” Michael groaned into Adam’s ear, and

Adam’s control slipped away. He clutched at Michael’s
biceps, feeling the flex under his hands, nothing but slick,
hot skin, and Adam couldn’t believe that they wasted the
entire day when they could have been here, together.

Michael licked his way down Adam’s throat to his chest.

He teased Adam’s nipples into hard points and sucked until
Adam cursed and arched up. His arms tightened around
Michael’s back, rubbing the sharp knobs of spine and
grasping at his sides. All he could think about was getting
Michael out of his boxers and into his hand, into his mouth,
inside him as soon as possible. He wiggled his hands
between them, struggling until Michael got with the program
and helped him shove the thin material down and off, both
their legs kicking in comical desperation.

Michael stopped, staring at Adam’s long and lithe body

spread out beneath him before he leaned over and closed his
lips around the head of Adam’s cock. “Oh fuck,” Adam

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [45]

groaned and shoved upward in search of more of the slow,
deliberate suction. This wasn’t what he thought would
happen. He wanted to give to Michael, bring him pleasure.
But it seemed Michael wanted to take, and Adam couldn’t
find any reason to refuse.

Adam cursed again when Michael spread his legs up

and out and rubbed his thumb over his balls and the
sensitive skin just beyond. No lube and no matter how much
he needed Michael inside him this wasn’t the time. But when
Michael shoved a thick finger into his mouth, one of those
long fingers he had admired the first night in the truck,
Adam sucked as if his life depended on it. Saliva slid across
his chin, and all he could think about was how good that
finger would feel inside him.

“This okay?” Michael’s turn to ask, and Adam couldn’t

speak, just opened his legs even more as Michael swallowed
him down and rubbed his finger, sticky wet with Adam’s
spit, against the thin, sensitive skin and tight ring of muscle.

Adam rolled his hips, unable to keep from thrusting up

into Michael’s mouth as the sensations all became too
intense. He came in long, shuddering pulses down Michael’s
throat, smearing fluid over Michael’s neck and chest as he
let Adam’s still oozing cock slip free and wriggled up to rest
on top of him.

He would remember this moment, Adam promised

himself. Nothing but sweat and heat and the slippery, wet
sound of flesh on flesh filling the dark space between them
as Michael groaned and came hard and fast, spilling onto
Adam’s belly. Thin streams trailed down over his cock and
slid across his thighs.

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [46]

Michael fell to the bed beside him, breathing heavily as

he rolled toward Adam, pressing forehead to forehead while
their heart rates slowed. Adam lay boneless, unable to do
more than smirk when Michael took hold of the sheet they
had kicked to the foot of the bed and gently sponged them off
before slipping behind him and wrapping his arms around
Adam’s waist.

Drowsily amused at being reduced to a cliché, Adam

wanted to do nothing more than fall asleep with Michael
beside him. But he could feel the tension when it returned to
Michael’s body. “Hey,” he whispered, twining his fingers over
Michael’s and lazily stroking his thumb against the back of
Michael’s hand.

Michael kissed the back of his neck and shifted, pulling

Adam even closer to him. “You’re not supposed to make this
stuff so easy,” he said.

“Just tell me if amazing sex will get me a good deal on a

transmission.” Adam was proud of his ability to joke when
Michael relaxed and rubbed his foot against Adam’s calf.

“Keep this up, and you can get a deal on car repairs for

life.”

“Yeah?” Adam whispered. “Count me in.”
Michael tightened his arms at Adam’s answer. “First I

need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”
Michael shifted on the bed. “That’s it? Just okay?”
“Michael.” Adam could feel the deep inhalation of

Michael’s breath, ribs pressing into his back, and he ached
with the desire to be able to keep this, keep him. “Whatever
it is, we can work it out.”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [47]

“I’m not the person you were calling for a ride.”
Whatever Adam had expected Michael to say, that

wasn’t it. “What? I got your number off the board.”

“You must have misdialed. Just luck you ended up with

me.”

“Why’d you say yes?”
Michael hesitated. “I’ve never been to my brother’s

grave. I don’t know what it says about me, but I just couldn’t
go. I was looking at pictures of the two of us and you called.
It seemed like a sign, you know?”

“Like there was a reason,” Adam said softly, thinking of

the card he had tossed to the floor at the union building.

“Exactly. If I took you to Flint, then I had no excuse not

to go on to Holly.” Michael buried his face against Adam’s
neck. “Except, now I don’t want to go see Will alone. I want
you to come with me.”

“I can do that.” Adam couldn’t believe Michael offered to

share this with him, and he rolled over to face him. “I’ll go
with you.”

“And after?” Michael questioned hesitantly.
“Just try to get rid of me now,” Adam teased.
“I don’t think I’m willing to face my family yet, but I’d

like to meet yours.” Michael ran his fingers lightly down the
side of Adam’s cheek. “I have to believe there’s a reason we
met.”

Adam pressed his lips against Michael’s, letting them

part and gently rub together. “What if the snowpocalypse
doesn’t end?”

Chrissy Munder

The Reason for the Season [48]

“Then I go broke trying to feed my new boyfriend.”

Michael grimaced as Adam dug his fingers into Michael’s
side. “Or, we stay here in bed until the thaw.”

Adam leaned in for another kiss and yawned instead as

the desire to sleep returned full force. “I like that idea.” He
shifted position, resting his head under Michael’s neck and
enjoying the slow, sweet slide of Michael’s hand down his
spine. “I like that a lot.”

Have you been Naughty or Nice?

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About the Author

The joke in

C

HRISSY

M

UNDER

’s family is that she was born

with a book in her hand. Even now, you’ll never find her
without a book or seven scattered about. Forced to become a
practicing realist in an effort to combat her tendency to
dream, her many years of travel and a diverse assortment of
careers have taken her across most of the United States and
shown her that there are two things you can never have
enough of: love and laughter.
Visit her web site at http://www.chrissymunder.com/ and
her blog at http://chrissymunder.livejournal.com/. Friend
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Copyright

The Reason for the Season ©Copyright Chrissy Munder, 2010

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com
Cover Design by Mara McKennen

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To
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244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
December 2010

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-768-9