For Keeps

38. Sexy sober friends.

{Kurt}

"Ready to go, big man?" Kurt knocked on the door to Cary's bedroom, and it flew open under his hand. Cary's maroon Christmas jumper just about punched Kurt in the eye with it's glaring combination of maroon, gold, red and and green. Eight tiny reindeer and Santa's sleigh sailed across Cary's broad chest; the stars in the night sky were picked out with sequins. Kurt admired a straight man brave enough to wear sequins.

Cary's knitted hat jingled as he tugged it back over his hair. "Get your Jon time in?" he asked, glancing sideways at Kurt.

Kurt's lips curled in a smile. "Yup. Thanks for clearing out after supper."

Cary shrugged, clomping down the stairs. "Just trying to avoid being the awkward third wheel in my own house," he said gruffly.

*

The library classroom where their AA group normally met was decorated for Christmas, with hand-painted pictures of Santa's face with a cotton ball beard pinned up on the walls, and a small tree hung with LEGO creations at the front. Kurt squeezed their dessert offering, a chocolate tiramisu cake from a near-by Italian bakery, onto the table next to the coffee urn. He noted with interest a tray full of homemade Nanaimo bars and a gallon of candy cane ice cream among the offerings.

The room was nearly full of people chatting with coffees in hand. Cary edged around conversations to get to the Christmas tree, bending to examine every LEGO creation. Kurt looked for Laurel, then sent her a text.

<you coming? Looks like Phyllis made her Nanaimo bars>

Immediately a response bubbled up from Laurel: <missed the first bus save some for me and Molly!!!>

Cary and Kurt weren't the only people in Christmas-themed attire: Phyllis's tinsel kitten sweater had made a re-appearance; the pair of white kittens in Santa hats, framed by a wreath of actual tinsel sewn onto the knitted pink sweater would have done Delores Umbridge proud. With her fluffy white hair and cat-eye glasses, Phyllis looked like Mrs. Santa presiding over their party.

Kurt was slurping his second cup of bad coffee when Laurel blew through the door in an enormous emerald green parka she couldn't close over the taut, round shape of her belly. Molly pulled free of her mother's hand to run to Kurt, calling, "Auntie Kurt!" and holding up her chubby hands for him to bend down and let her 'muh-wah' both his cheeks.

Laurel was struggling out of her jacket and, after a second, Cary stepped in and helped her free her encumbered body from the sleeves. She flashed him a grateful look, brushing a coiffed wave of bang out of her glittery, lined green eye.

"God, thank you," Laurel said. "I'm so done with this." She flicked her manicured fingers over her abundant curves. "I just want to get this baby out and put her down already." She laughed ruefully.

Kurt leaned in for a careful hug and kissed her cheeks. "You look gorgeous, darlin'," he said reassuringly. "You make pregnancy look hot."

Laurel groaned, fanning herself. "Pregnancy is hot." Her downy white turtleneck hugged every curve, while her leggings and knee high boots showed off her shapely legs.

"There's ice cream," Cary said, a smile in his dark eyes as he nudged his beard at the food table.

"Is there?" Laurel's eyes lit up. "I'm literally living on ice cream right now."

As they lined up to serve themselves dessert, Cary asked, "When do you get to put your baby down?" His gruff, quiet voice was almost lost in the hubbub of the crowd and the carols playing on a stereo.

Laurel smiled up at him. It was unusual for her to find a man taller than she was in heels. "I wish I could tell you this is as big as I get. But she's not coming 'til January. Five more weeks—but who's counting?"