Sleigh Ride (Minnesota Christmas Book 2) (15 page)

Half the hands in the room went up, some of them attached to bodies rising and jumping up and down. Again, only a few boys raised their hands, and most of the mothers pulled those hands down.

Gabriel continued to frown. “Well, there’s one thing I forgot to mention. You see, Lulabelle has only ever belonged to boys. She’s nervous with so many girls here. Now, I know you’d all treat her well, but I think to start a boy should hold her, to show her it’s safe. Is there a boy here who wants to come up front and hold her for me?”

Arthur bit his lip to stop his smile as
every
boy’s hand went up, and most of the adults looked uneasy.

God, what the hell was wrong with people, that the idea of a boy holding a doll would send the world careening into hell?

Gabriel beamed at his audience. “So many good, kind boys wanting to help Lulabelle not feel scared. What good daddies and uncles
you
will be someday. Goodness, how will I choose? Hmm. Dakota, I think you would be good to start, but we’ll give everyone a chance to hold her before story time is finished. Come up front, Dakota. Of course, you can bring your little brother too. That’s it. Come sit next to Thomas.”

Gabriel arranged Dakota and his brother and Lulabelle next to Thomas. Both boys beamed with pride, holding their babies with more care than Arthur had witnessed in weary mothers at Walmart. They were beautiful in their tenderness, but also their sense of protection and pride. Arthur had no doubt if danger struck the library, those boys would turn into soldiers protecting their charges.

Gabriel produced his other doll, a much newer and barely worn Raggedy Ann doll, which Gabriel held with the same reverence as he explained she was given to him by a friend in college, along with a book of stories about her. He promised to share the stories with them soon, that Raggedy Ann would live at the library for a while because she
loved
stories about herself, and if he didn’t let her stay, she was likely to sneak off and come listen on her own. When he asked who wanted to hold Raggedy Ann while he read a story, he chose a girl to mind her, though Arthur couldn’t help but notice as many boys’ hands went up this time too, and they seemed particularly sad they didn’t get picked to guard Mr. Higgins’s other baby.

Arthur also noticed the adults still looked nervous. He also saw his mother and sister in the back of the room, as well as Frankie, Marcus and Paul.

Gabriel sat down in his chair and reached into the basket beside him for a book, then stopped, frowning down at his front row of baby holders. “Oh no. Story-time friends, something is wrong.” He scratched his head in an only slightly exaggerated gesture and stood. The children watched in rapt attention—adults too—as he walked the mouth of the semicircle. Finally he stopped at his chair, looking utterly perplexed. “Friends, why are there only two boys up here holding babies?”

A grubby boy in the back shot to his feet. “Mr. Higgins, I want to hold the baby.”

His mother tried to pull him down, but Gabriel beamed at him. “Jesse, you’re most welcome to hold a baby. Is your baby doll at home? Was she too sick to come?”

Jesse bit his lip. “I don’t have a doll. Dolls are girl toys.”

Gabriel appeared troubled. “But…I’m a boy, and I have a doll. I have
two
dolls.” He sat down in his chair and looked around the semicircle, staring earnestly into the faces of his charges. “Why is a doll a girl toy?”

For a moment everyone seemed lost, except for the adults, who were only uncomfortable. Then a little girl raised her hand.

Gabriel smiled at her. “Yes, Patricia. Do you know why dolls are girl toys?”

“Because they’re pink. Girl toys are pink.”

“Goodness. All your toys are pink?” Gabriel looked at the girls. “I had no idea. Pink toys are for girls. Only girls? Boys can’t play with pink toys?” Everyone shook their heads, and Gabriel nodded, as if taking in important information. “Okay. What are the toys girls can’t play with?”

“Trucks,” a boy volunteered.

Gabriel wagged a long finger. “Oh, but I’ve seen girls play with trucks here. Trucks and blocks and cars and puppets.” He tapped the side of his cheek. “Hmm. So maybe I should change the toys at the library. That’s a good idea. All the pink toys are for girls only. Trucks are for boys only.”

“But I like trucks,” a girl said.

“Oh dear. Oh, dear.” Gabriel began to pace. “This is distressing. I didn’t know there were toys boys couldn’t play with. But what will I do with Lulabelle? Do you think this means I can’t keep her now? Do you think it was bad I had her when I was a boy? That my uncle did? What is the bad thing that happens when a boy plays with a doll?”

“People laugh,” Thomas said.

“But why do they laugh?” When Thomas shrugged, Gabriel frowned. “Story-time friends, I’m very sorry, but I don’t understand at all. Is there something funny about a boy playing with a doll? I’m looking at Dakota and Thomas holding their dolls, and I don’t think it’s funny. Oh—wait.” He snapped his fingers as if he’d just figured it out. “Are they going to tell jokes? Is that why it’s funny?”

At this point the entire room simply stared at Gabriel, completely unsure how to respond to him. For his part, Arthur could barely breathe. His palms were sweating, and he both wanted to spirit Gabriel out of the room and applaud him at once. Holy shit, he’d never seen anything so crazy or brave in his life.

He hoped to hell Gabriel knew what he was doing.

“Maybe this book will help us. It’s a story about a boy who wants a doll.” Gabriel held the cover up and displayed it to the children before him.
William’s Doll
, Arthur read.

Gabriel read this book as well as he had any other, yet this particular reading seemed electrically charged. The story went as Arthur expected—a boy named William wanted a doll, and his parents told him no. His dad taught him sports and other manly things, but William continued to ask for a doll, even when other kids teased him about it.

Gabriel made each request from William a yearning that pulled at Arthur’s gut. At this point he was too far under Gabriel to be objective about his lure, but the rest of the room fell under his spell as well. It seemed, when Gabriel read the words, the most reasonable thing in the world for a boy to have a doll. When the grandmother gave William his doll, explaining to her son that playing with the doll was how William would learn to be a good daddy too someday, it didn’t just feel natural for a boy to have a doll, it felt
right
.

Every boy in the room, Arthur realized, was going to go home and ask Santa for a doll for Christmas. Talk about a fucking revolution.

Gabriel put the book down and let out a satisfied sigh. “Good for William. I’m so glad he got his doll. But how sad that people laughed at him for wanting one. There’s nothing funny about wanting to be a daddy. I bet a lot of you have daddies.”
All kinds
of hands went up. Gabriel kept going. “Some of you don’t have daddies, but you have uncles and grandfathers who take care of you. They hold you and hug you and make sure you get your sleep, make sure you get something to eat, make sure you’re safe and warm and loved. That’s what daddies do, don’t they? Daddies and uncles and grandpas—and mommies and aunts and grandmas too.” He smiled at the children. “Do you know why I’m so good at reading stories? It’s because I read so many to Lulabelle. I lived way, way out in the country, and Lulabelle was my only friend. She played with me and listened to me, and she made me happy. So I read her stories, and she helped me tell them better than anybody else. I hope you, boys and girls, can find a Lulabelle too.”

He switched to the Raggedy Ann book, but first he arranged for new people to hold his babies—a girl this time for Lulabelle, a boy for Raggedy Ann. At his suggestion, some of the girls with babies shared their dolls with the boys, and Thomas shared too—with another boy.

Gabriel also looked up at the adults before moving on, his story-time persona shifting to professionalism. “I understand some of you might have questions for me after story time, which I’m happy to answer. I also wanted you to know there are a number of photocopies of articles and psychology studies on the back table, as well as several books about parenting and gender roles. You’re welcome to take as many copies as you want. If any run out, let me know, and I’ll refill them. All the books are available for checkout.”

Then he picked up his
Raggedy Ann
book and began to read as if he hadn’t just shattered glass all over Logan, Minnesota.

Arthur watched Thomas beaming proudly, clearly ready to throw his favorite uncle over for his favorite librarian. He watched the children listening intently to everything Gabriel said. He watched the parents, some pleased, some pissed, some stunned.

He glanced at his sister, his mother, his father. Becky leaned into Corrina as she held her baby. Her cheeks were tear-stained, but her countenance had eased more than Arthur had seen in quite some time.

He saw Frankie and Marcus and Paul, who looked…amazed, and vindicated.

When Arthur moved to the back of the room to check out the articles, his dad touched his arm on the way by. “That one’s a keeper, son.”

Arthur smiled, his throat thick with emotion. “Yeah. I think so too.”

C
hapter Sixteen

T
here was always a crush at the end of story time, both children and parents with questions, concerns, comments and untied shoes, but the day he read
William’s Doll
, Gabriel was downright bombarded.

All
the children wanted to hold his dolls, which was to be expected, and they all wanted to tell him about their favorite stuffies and dolls and dads and uncles and how they had jam on their fingers too once like Raggedy Ann did in the story. Several mothers and grandmothers hugged him, often with tears in their eyes as they told him he was a treasure, as they wept for his stillborn great-aunt, as they confessed their sons and grandsons wanted dolls and how they couldn’t wait to get them one.

Behind them were the flat-lipped parents and guardians who pulled him aside where no one could hear and contorted themselves into pretzels as they attempted to explain—to an openly gay man—why it was not just okay but right to keep boys from playing with dolls. He regarded them with patience, gave them the same questions he’d given the children, and eventually handed them a stack of articles he knew they wouldn’t read and sent them on their way. By the time everything had calmed down, it was over an hour past the end of story time.

Arthur and Corrina were still in the back of the room, waiting.

Thomas had left with Becky and the baby and Big Tom a while ago. Becky had hugged Gabriel and wept, so much so that he’d let her use his office to collect herself. Thomas had hugged him too—Thomas and Soupy both, who had been the hit of the room, since he was the only boy who’d come with a doll already.

Now it was Gabriel, a handful of lingering library patrons, Corrina and Arthur.

Corrina claimed him first. Her hug was a vise, and she kissed both of his cheeks twice before letting him go. “Gabriel Higgins, you’re the best librarian I’ve ever met, and we’re so fortunate to have you.”

Gabriel accepted her praise with a slight nod. “I’m sure you’ll receive complaints to the board, and I’d ask you to let people voice their objections to my lesson, encouraging them to speak to me as well.”

Corrina snorted. “It won’t be the first time, and we won’t be moved to reprimand you now any more than during any other instance.”

“Yes, but you must let them come to you, and you must listen to them. They don’t expect you to do anything half as much as they want to be heard, and I want to listen to them as much as I want to let the children hear other points of view. I’m sure
William’s Doll
will stir extra controversy, because it always does. I did something similar once in Bloomington, though I know this must seem a bit of a throwdown here in Logan. I don’t want people to think I’m brainwashing their children. I’m having a conversation with the community. But that community does include the youth.”

His gaze kept slipping to Arthur as he spoke—he’d been hyper-conscious of where Arthur was the entire time. Had Arthur liked it, he wondered? Gabriel knew it had been an excellent presentation, one of his best. He was good at what he did, exceptionally so. He knew this.

But did Arthur agree?

He got his answer when Arthur took Gabriel into his office, shut the door—and pulled him in close. He didn’t kiss him, just held him, like someone coming home. “That was amazing,” he said at last.

Pleasure pooled in Gabriel like silken honey. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“
Enjoyed
it? Gabriel—I don’t know where to start. My God, if I’d have heard this story time when I’d been a boy? I don’t know that I’d have wanted a doll, but I would have gotten what you were saying about what I want and who I am being okay, because let me tell you…I know we keep telling each other Thomas can’t know if he’s gay or not…but I knew at his age. I didn’t quite get what it entailed, but I knew it was dark and bad and wrong, and I had to snuff it out. Or at least, that was what I
thought
I knew. But—Jesus, what you did for Thomas.” Arthur’s cheeks were ruddy, his eyes bright with sharp emotions. “He was so proud. Becky had him scared and ashamed, and now he’s
proud
. You’re fucking amazing. You’re the goddamned pied piper. And I want to follow you everywhere.”

Melting, Gabriel brushed a kiss on Arthur’s beard. “Thank you.”

Arthur kissed him back, but nothing too steamy—there was a window in the office door, after all. Arthur ran his hands down Gabriel’s arms. “You get off at five thirty, right? Give me your keys. I’m going to go put that automatic start in for you right now. I have to send away for the stereo, but that’s next.”

Gabriel fished in his pocket for his keys and also his wallet. “You’re wonderful. How much do you need for the…thingy? I don’t have a ton of cash on me.”

“You’re not giving me anything. This is my treat.” When Gabriel started to protest, Arthur kissed him firmly and pulled the keys from his hand. “I’ll be back in time to pick you up.”

He was indeed, and Gabriel was glad to see him. He’d spent the afternoon in his office talking to parents, good and bad, and had done a second story time, this one focused on colors and senses. He’d caught Alex on chat and given a quick rundown of both the story time and his Thanksgiving, and she had effused praise and called him her wicked librarian. She told him to go out and celebrate with his hot boyfriend.

Except when Arthur arrived at five thirty and promised to take him wherever he wanted to go, even clubbing in Duluth, Gabriel sank into his chair.

“Honestly? I want to take a hot bath and go to bed. I’m so tired I just want to roll over and die.”

Arthur slipped behind him and massaged his back. “Come over to my place. I’ve got a tub and fresh deer steak.”

Gabriel shut his eyes and melted into Arthur’s hands. “That sounds amazing.” Arthur’s thumbs moved to the center of his shoulder blades, and Gabriel gasped as he swallowed a sound of pleasure far too carnal for a library.

Arthur brushed a kiss across Gabriel’s neck. “I think we should add a massage to the list of tonight’s activities.”

“Mmm,” Gabriel murmured, shutting his eyes and relaxing into Arthur’s hands.

All too soon Arthur pulled away, though with a lingering touch that promised
later
.

There were plenty of patrons in the library—it didn’t close until eight, manned now by volunteers from the library board. Though there were people checking out actual books, the greatest drive at this time of day were adults wanting to check out DVDs and some incredibly old-schoolers taking out VHS cassettes. Some used the listening booths, which were equipped with TVs and players with attached headphones. These had been Gabriel’s first contribution to the library: the board had balked, fixed on the idea that a library should be about books. Gabriel told them no, a library was about information and knowledge, and for some people being able to commune with common culture via a semi-current action movie they didn’t have the money to buy was the most important kind of information to be had.

The patrons who benefited the most from this advocacy were also the ones otherwise least likely to use the library, and the Venn diagram of this population and those who felt a bit uncomfortable about Gabriel’s orientation significantly overlapped. In the past they’d almost universally overlooked Gabriel’s queerness because they loved the services he’d brought to Logan. Today, however, Gabriel couldn’t help but notice these suspicious eyes fell on him with increasing intensity.

Was it the doll business, or was their discomfort rooted in the fact that he’d been sitting at the circulation desk, openly receiving sexually tinged affection from another man? Returning it, making plans for a date in front of God and everyone?

If Arthur noticed the judgmental glances, he made no comment. He eagerly ushered Gabriel into his coat and the parking lot, where Gabriel’s locked car was already humming in wait. Arthur demonstrated the fob he’d put on Gabriel’s keychain, but he also commandeered Gabriel’s smartphone, downloaded an app and showed him how he could start his car with the press of a button. It wasn’t quite as cold out as it had been, but Gabriel still reveled in pleasure as he climbed into the driver’s seat and found his vehicle cozy and warm.

Arthur followed him to his house, where he loitered in the living room, poking idly at shelves as Gabriel put an overnight bag together. Halfway through Gabriel paused, self-conscious, wondering if that was presumptuous, to think he was staying the night. He almost asked, then decided what else was Arthur waiting for? If he’d meant to just make him dinner, wouldn’t he have simply had him drop off his car? Though maybe he thought this was for the bubble bath, a change of clothes for after.

This was a strange second date. This was all strange, honestly.

A creak in the floorboards made him jump and turn, where he saw Arthur leaning against the doorframe. “I could feel you freaking out from the other room.”

“Sorry.” Gabriel dropped his duffel, as if he were embarrassed for presuming to pack it. “I just…I wasn’t sure what to pack. Or…if I should.”

Arthur hesitated. “Do you want me to go? Leave you be?”

“No, I—” Gabriel ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why putting a stupid bag together makes me freeze up.”

Entering the room, Arthur gently picked up the duffel and placed it on the bed. “What obligations do you have this weekend? Anything on your calendar or to-do list before you go to work on Monday?”

Gabriel bit his lip as he considered. “I’d thought about maybe putting up my little tree. Reading a Christmas novella on my Nook. Making some soup.” All activities he’d planned pre-Arthur, to put Arthur out of his head.

Arthur took hold of the tips of Gabriel’s fingers, squeezing them gently. “Pack your bag with whatever you need until Monday morning. Bring your books and your work clothes and your toothbrush and anything you might want for a weekend at my house. You can have your bath and deer steak, and we’ll put up a tree, if you want. I’ll show you the sleigh for Mom’s crazy fundraiser, and if you trust me, I’ll give you a ride in it. I’ve only been at it a week, but I’m getting fairly competent. Tomorrow night we can go into town and have dinner with Marcus and Frankie. Or we can stay in.”

All weekend.
Gabriel reeled, whether in anticipation or nervousness he couldn’t tell. Probably it was both.

Arthur’s grip on his hand slackened a little. “Unless that’s too much. It was an idea, is all.”

Likely it was too much, too soon. Except nothing about how he felt about Arthur was orderly. Nothing about being with Arthur was orderly. Leave it to Arthur to solve Gabriel’s nerves by aiming an Uzi at them.

Gabriel took firmer grip of Arthur’s hand. “It’s a wonderful idea,” he said, letting his doubts fall away.

I
t had started to snow by the time they left Gabriel’s house, gritty bits of ice whipping in eerie eddies across the street. Arthur drove slowly—the roads weren’t bad, but they weren’t great. Visibility was the real issue. He cranked the defrost and the wipers, squinting through the dash as he crept along at a snail’s pace. It wasn’t until he was on the highway leading back to his place that he realized how still Gabriel had become.

Arthur glanced over at him. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Gabriel kept his eyes shut tight. “Intellectually I know we’re fine. Emotionally, I still hate driving in bad weather.”

Arthur reached over to briefly squeeze his shoulder. “I’m sorry I let us linger. This took me a bit by surprise.”

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay—Gabriel was nervous, and Arthur knew only a little of that was the idea of spending the weekend with Arthur. But there wasn’t much Arthur could do about the weather, and if he rushed to get to the cabin, it would make matters worse. He tried to gloss over the agony of the drive with chatter.

“I don’t mind storms once I’m at home. I’m no survivalist or anything, but we could be holed up for quite a while at the cabin and be more than fine. Hell, that storm last year where Frankie stayed with us I was hot in the house half the time, between the fireplace and the wood stove.”

“Must have been nice. I think parts of me are still thawing out.”

Arthur glanced at him askance. “You didn’t ride it out at home, did you?”

“The actual blizzard, yes. As soon as I could, I went to the church. Which was only survivable because it was warm.”

It was silly for Arthur to feel bad for not rescuing Gabriel from something a year ago when he didn’t even know him. “What happened? Did someone pray over you or something?”

Unexpectedly, this made Gabriel laugh. “No. I’ve actually never had any overt homophobia directed at me in Logan. I mean, there’s the usual, but all things considered it’s not bad. I think I have some kind of librarian exception, and there’s also the fact that I never leave my house unless I’m going to work or the store to stock up on food.” He bit his lip as if worrying about something, but when he spoke, his tone was easy. “No, the church was awful because all these little old ladies kept fussing over me. All I wanted to do was sit in the corner and read, but they talked to me.
Constantly.
”

Arthur shook his head, grinning at the image of prickly Gabriel trying to fend off the eager women’s circle of Our Savior’s Lutheran Church.

Gabriel grimaced, however. “I probably should have been more welcoming. I guess it’s strange to live somewhere over a year and not get involved in the community. It’s not because I don’t want to. It’s just…hard.”

“You’re awfully involved in the community, from what I saw today.” Though he’d also seen how outside of Logan Gabriel was—like his namesake the angel, watchful but separate. He glanced across the seat. “What’s the perfect community in your head, if you could make the world out to what you wanted it to be—what’s it look like?”

Gabriel bit his lip, staring thoughtfully at the dashboard. “Somewhere small. I don’t know how to describe the rest of it, but it’s
not
a city.”

Arthur’s heart turned over and showed its belly. “Oh yeah?”

Gabriel nodded. “I used to think I wanted to live in an urban area, but it makes me so tired. So many people, all the time. When I have to drive into Duluth, I go crazy.”