Ozzie grimaced. “Why is itgreen?”
“Because it’s delicious probably.”
“That’s all you, babe.” Ozzie laughed again. “I can taste the gooey weirdness from here.”
“Hey, I resemble that remark,” Tuesday teased before popping a blob of the green fruit cake into his mouth. “Ooo! Pistachio. I think. Yes. Maybe.”
“I’m sorry. Pistachios do not belong in fucking cake.” Ozzie grunted in disgust as they shuffled a few steps closer to the bar.
“Oh, but they do.” Tuesday moaned loudly, shoving another piece of fruitcake in his mouth. “Oh myGod, this stuff is delicious. I can’t believe you thought it was gross.”
“I’m very glad that you’re enjoying yourself.” Ozzie read the menu board above the bar. “Okay, so, we have red wine, white wine, beer, or a couple different Christmassy cocktails. Cinnamon apple twist sounds good to me. What do you want?”
“Ooo, the cinnamon one.” Tuesday paused to take another bite. “I think it’ll go well with whatever this red one is.”
“I doubt it. That thing is probably tomato flavor or some shit.” Ozzie shuddered and shook his head as if he could shake away the memories of fruitcakes past.
“Mmm.” Tuesday chewed thoughtfully. “Cherry? Maybe?”
It was their turn at the bar now, and Ozzie smiled politely at the bartender as they stepped up. Tuesday had a mouthful of fruitcake, and Ozzie decided he could order their drinks. He could totally handle that. “H-Hello.”
The bartender was a blonde woman dressed as an elf, and the bells on her hat jingled as she spoke. “Hi! What can I get you?”
“Two cinnamon apple…” Ozzie stared back at the menu because he’d already managed to forget the stupid name of the drink. “Twists? Yes. Those things. Thank you.”
“Coming right up!” The bartender’s hat jingled away as she got to work.
“Thank you, baby,” Tuesday crooned, smooching Ozzie’s cheek. “This is greeeat.”
“Thank you! You being here is…” Ozzie inhaled sharply, unable to find the words he wanted to describe how he felt. “Amazing. I couldn’t have left the house without you.”
“Happy to be your adoptive extrovert any ol’ time,” Tuesday declared. He looked around the crowd. “Wow, so you really work with all these people?”
“Yeah! I never see them except for here. Or the occasional video meeting. Most of us are remote now, so some of these guys drove from the other end of the state to be here.”
“Ooo, which one is your boss?” Tuesday gobbled up more fruitcake. “Is it that guy? With the big beard? He looks like a boss. Or Santa. Wait, is he Santa?”
“Uh, my boss is actually the one over there dressed like Buddy the Elf.” Ozzie pointed to a green clad, curly haired elf who was arranging a big pile of presents under one of the Christmas trees.
“Nice!” Tuesday tilted his head curiously. “So, his name is Buddy?”
“Actually, his name is Gerald, but he pretty much is Buddy the Elf. He dresses like that every year. Honestly, I kinda think he dresses like that every day of his life.” Ozzie laughed under his breath.
“Huh. I guess it looks kinda comfy. I do like the green.”
The bartender offered out two glasses filled with a bright red liquid and a cinnamon stick. “Here you go, sir!”
“Thank you!” Ozzie smiled and accepted the drinks, nudging Tuesday. “Let’s go find somewhere to sit with your fruitcake pile.”
“Don’t hate on my fruitcake!” Tuesday giggled loudly, and there was a definite sway to his walk as he followed Ozzie to an unoccupied table. “Mmm, damn, this cake issooogood.”
“You okay there?” Ozzie pulled out a chair for Tuesday. “Are you sure you don’t get drunk on champagne?”
“No! It can’t be the alcohol.” Tuesday fussed as he sat down. “It’s gotta be something else!” He stared the fruitcake. “What’s all in this…?”
“Uh, let’s see.” Ozzie sat beside Tuesday and set their drinks on the table. “Decrepit fruit, death, Christmas wishes that never came true, and apparently sometimes pistachios?”
Tuesday took another big bite, chewing thoughtfully. “No, it’s gotta be…” He picked a chunk off and studied it carefully. “Oh fuck.Raisins.”
