LOVE NEVER DIES

ONE

LARRY

Larry looked out of his apartment window just as the snow started to fall.  Even at his rather advanced, he considered, age of 32, he still loved the snow, but he knew he shouldn't, he was in two minds these days.  Always the big kid.  But, who didn't ?  A few people he could name.  Mail carriers, neither snow nor rain shall stay them from completion of their appointed rounds, and all that shit.  Notice they mentioned snow first ... Bus drivers.  Old people who couldn't afford to heat their house. 

And firemen.  Firemen hated the snow too.  Snow meant cold.  Cold meant heating.  Heating meant unserviced boilers that were ripe to explode, and unswept chimney's that were more than happy to catch fire.  

It was close to Christmas, the time of year when everyone tried, or at least pretended that life was good, that they loved their neighbor, that the awful party they went to last night at a friends house resembled a party at all.  And that the stress of being broke and so busy at this time of year, what with everything else going on, hadn't led to his significant other walking out after the worst argument they ever had.  

Spending money they didn't have, Larry wasn't cheap at all, in fact he was very generous, but if you didn't have the money, you shouldn't spend it, no matter how much you loved your cousins fifth child.  Both he and Patrick both had large families to buy for, and 3 birthdays as well, and Christmas spending had always put them in debt for the rest of the year.  They argued over who went where and when and to whom.  But his parents were elderly, Patrick told Larry every year, expecting him to acquiesce immediately.  He understood, he really did, but just because they were old, didn't mean they got first dibs on everything their son and Larry did.  

Patrick also expected their sex to be magical too, as if the copulation fairy would somehow magically appear and take all of their sexual problems away, just for Christmas.  That because there was tinsel and Christmas tree lights sparkling everywhere, imbuing their home with the perfect ambiance for a little hanky panky in front of the fire.  Like, all the time.  And every night.  God, he'd be so happy when all this shit was over, even if it was just for that one reason alone.  Sex was held once a week, like an obligatory meeting, in bed, under the covers, quick and more or less painless and dutifully loving enough.  

Christmas wasn't the same now anyway.  It was, and always had been, for the kids.  Larry's firehouse had already hosted a party for the neighborhood kids home, now that was magical.  All those freshly scrubbed, apple cheeked, smiling faces, devouring the cookies that Larry and his guys had made for them.  Standing with each kid at the top of the fireman's pole that just disappeared into the floor, as the boys chuckled and gave each other high fives, and the girls just squealed with delight and embarrassment.   

And Patrick tried, he really did. He understood that Larry would always be on call on Christmas, at least that what he said.  Christmas day was always rota'd, but the single, childless men had agreed that those with their own children, or elderly parents, would get first dibs on Christmas day off.  

And so it was.  Larry was on call every Christmas, but usually, by the end of the day, and with two call out's under his belt already, Patrick just took himself off, huffing and puffing, to bed to watch Netflix alone.  The candles and wine and the turkey dinner he'd lovingly prepared, sitting cold on the dining room table.  Which left Larry to his own devices when he did get home, which usually meant a cold turkey sandwich.  Still in his soot covered hands and face, and a smell to rival their living room fireplace, he ate his sandwich at the sparse kitchen table under the harsh white light, with a huge smile on his face.  He liked a good turkey sandwich better than the hot dinner that all the fuss was about.