Quite a Spectacle by Meg Harding

Chapter One
     
     
    T HE SNOW was coming down in torrents, covering everything in white. Their driveway needed clearing. All their plants surely had to be frozen. Little light up trees and candy canes poked out amongst the snow drifts. Across the street their neighbors’ yard looked almost identical. Their house was covered in lights, what seemed like thousands of them.
    Michael was sure his neighbors’ roof could be seen from outer space.
    He let the blinds fall shut on his front window and turned to find Buddy, his massive St. Bernard, sitting there staring at him. His tongue lolled from his mouth, and his head tilted to the side curiously. Big brown eyes looked up at Michael all pathetic like.
    “Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “Go look at your other daddy like that. He’s the reason we won’t be here.”
    Buddy kept right on staring.
    Sighing, Michael crouched to tousle Buddy’s ears, scratching behind them just like he liked.
    “Did you seriously just try to get the dog to guilt me?”
    Michael looked up at the sound of his partner’s voice. Ankles crossed, Max leaned in the doorway to the living room, his lips quirked in a half smile and his arms crossed over his chest. Michael frowned at him and looked back to Buddy.
    The sound of Max’s footsteps on the tile was soft, barely audible, but Michael knew he was coming closer. His shadow loomed over them as he stopped just behind Buddy.
    “Michael,” he said, “You’ve got to stop pouting. We spend every holiday with your family. It’s time we spent one with mine.”
    “Your family hates me,” said Michael, leaning forward and kissing Buddy’s nose. Buddy huffed in his face.
    “My family does not hate you,” said Max, sounding exasperated.
    Michael looked up at him. “Say that with a straight face.”
    Max pulled a face. “Why do you think they hate you?”
    “You know why.”
    “Michael.”
    He sat himself on the floor, wrapping his arms around Buddy, and looked up at Max from over Buddy’s shoulder. “I made you move away from them, and then when we did go visit, I crashed your father’s car. And that was after I broke your mom’s favorite china. Oh! You can’t have forgotten the first time I met them? When the bag broke and the vibrator fell out?”
    Max rubbed over his face. “So,” he said, “we may not have the best track record, but we can fix that. They don’t hate you; they just don’t know you.” Michael frowned, and Max gestured wide with his arms. “Are you saying you don’t want to spend Christmas together? I can fly to London myself, and you can stay here?”
    Michael buried his face in Buddy’s fur. “I’m not saying that.” He turned just enough so his words weren’t as muffled. “I’m saying if something bad happens, I told you so.”
    Max sat next to him and ran his hand through Michael’s shaggy red hair. “Nothing bad is going to happen. We’re going to have a lovely Christmas in London, and then we’ll come back here and we’ll have a lovely second Christmas in Toronto with your parents. Everybody’s happy.”
    Buddy pulled away and moved to sprawl out in front of the unlit fireplace. Max moved into his place and sat facing Michael. He leaned forward and kissed Michael’s nose, then his mouth, then his nose again. He went back and forth ’til Michael stopped him, capturing Max’s lips with his own.
    “Fine,” he muttered into Max’s mouth, “everybody’s happy.”
    When Max pulled back from the kiss, he was beaming, his lips plumper and his cheeks nice and rosy. Michael leaned in for more, but Max pushed him back. “We’ve got to get going,” he said, starting to stand. “We need to drop Buddy off with your parents now, or we’ll never make the flight.”
    Michael groaned, theatrically throwing himself onto his back and covering his eyes. Max prodded at him with toes in his side. “Up, up,” he urged. He didn’t stop until Michael had gotten himself upright and moving to where