Chapter 6 – Chapter 6

When Christopher drove back into his driveway, the snow still falling and beginning to provide some depth on the ground, he found what looked like a pile of rags shoved up on his front door. The reflection of the street lamp off the snow caused the glass bottle floating up and down in the pile of rags to sparkle. Getting out of the SUV, he said, "Are you going to drink all of that wine yourself?"

"I was if you didn't come home pretty soon," Jamal answered. "This is good stuff—a fine balance of quality and cost. I didn't want to drink it all alone."

"How did you find where I lived?" Christopher said, shushing through the snow up to his entry.

"You gave me your card. You made quite clear you wanted to enjoy me again."

"So I did and so I do," Christopher said. And now that he thought about it, he suddenly felt free and ready to live again.

"Are you going to ask me in?" Jamal asked. "It's colder than a witch's tit out here."

"You're not carrying a gun, are you?"

"What in the hell would I need a gun for?"

"Just checking. Sure, you can come in, if you'd like. I can get a fire going in the fireplace, but I'm sorry that I don't have a Christmas tree up this year."

"You don't? That's sacrilege. It's Christmas. Where's your Christmas spirit?"

"I think it's coming back," Christopher said as he unlocked the door. "There will be a tree next year, for sure."

"You know that if you let me in, I'm going to fuck you into the new year."

"I'm counting on it. I'm counting on that for sure," Christopher said as he latched onto the pile of rags and dragged Jamal into his house.