“I like the real you.”He wanted to keep peeling back the beautiful exterior of this dream guy.It was his looks that pulled Tom in originally, but he found that discovering the real Randall was what kept him coming back for more.
Randall had Tom turn right into Veronese Estates, a tony housing development located on a manmade hill at the edges of town.The nicest complexes in the area were all named after artists from the Renaissance, which immediately made them sound cosmopolitan and classy.Gated communities weren’t a thing around here, letting Tom drive in unobstructed.
“Did all your mall Santa-ing allow you to buy one of these mansions?”Tom asked.
“Not quite.Keep driving.”A smile escaped from the edges of Randall’s mouth.It sent a rush of fuzzy warmth through Tom.
Tom drove down the main road, Caravaggio Boulevard, which was lined with McMansions all modeled after Italian villas, with three-car garages natch.Detailed Christmas light arrangements swaddled the exteriors of many of the houses.Tom could’ve turned off his car’s lights and seen perfectly it was that bright.
“I should’ve brought sunglasses,” he said.
“It gets better,” Randall said.“Keep driving.”
The further they got up the hill, the more elaborate the decorations.Larger-than-life Santa and reindeer depictions on the roof, choreographed twinkling lights.
“There’s a neighborhood competition that they take very seriously,” Randall said.
“How do you know all this?”
“I overheard some of the moms in line talking about it, and then one of my elf co-workers told me about this place, that I had to see it.”
Tom had lived in Oakville his whole life and had never been to Veronese Estates.
“It’s…”
“It’s over-the-top,” Randall said.“Really tacky.That’s part of the fun.”
“Yeah.”These displays were monuments to conspicuous consumption.The artists of the Renaissance must be turning in their graves knowing their names are being associated with these bourgeois-on-steroids neighborhoods.
Tom drove to the top of the hill, which actually got high up.He parked at the end of the cul-de-sac where the road ended.The only houses up here were two that were under construction.By the looks of their wood frames, they were going to be the biggest ones in the development.
From this point, they had a view of the whole development and the swaths of flat, empty land outside Veronese.A warm, Christmas glow emanated from the houses beneath them, followed by instant darkness of the outside world.There was something quaint about the view, like they were inside of those Christmas villages people set up in their homes.
“This is really cool,” Tom said.
“The elves did not do this place justice.”
Randall took out their to-go boxes, Tom turned on the radio, and they enjoyed their dinner under the stars and above the lights.Randall picked Tom’s brain on his family’s traditions for each holiday.Tom asked him about funny stories from his travels across the U.S.and his opinion on whether Abraham Lincoln really was gay.(“Most likely.James Buchanan was definitely a big ole queen.”) After they finished eating, they continued talking and held hands on the middle console.Tom would make any bargain with the universe for control of the space-time continuum so that this night never would end.
Soon, the talking petered out.They looked out the window at the stillness of the night and let the soft notes of the radio fill the space.Tom put his head on Randall’s shoulder.Tom had been on dates before, but they had never flowed so effortlessly like tonight.
“Where are you going next?”Tom asked.
“I don’t know.I have the motel room through the first week of January.Maybe Wisconsin.”
Tom heart’s felt a jab of pain at the mention of Randall crossing state lines, probably never to return.
“I kind of don’t want to leave, you know?I like it here.”Randall’s heartbeat vibrated against Tom’s head.
“You’re the star of Oakville.”
“That’s not why I like it here so much.”
Tom could feel everything in Randall’s body.All the nerves, all the tensing, all the heart.
“I like you,” Randall said.The words hung in the air.
He was leaving.He was wanted by everyone in the Chicagoland area.He could have lovers in other states.Those were just excuses, Tom realized.It was scarier to admit the truth.
