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Sonny settled into the back seat of the Uber, making a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan, and looked over at Rafael. “I don’t think I can ever eat again.”
“We’ve talked about this,” Rafael said, adjusting the tote bag at his feet that held Tupperware containers and foil wrapped leftovers. “The trick is to evade; change the subject. Distract her. I don’t know how you haven’t perfected it given who your own mother is.”
They had just wrapped up Christmas Eve dinner at Rafael’s mother’s apartment. A dinner that anyone on the outside would have thought was a meal for ten given the amount of food his mother had prepared. And she’d been determined for Sonny and Rafael to consume all of it.
“But the food is so good. It’s hard for me to resist.”
“Well, I can’t save you from yourself,” Rafael commented as the city lights passed by outside the window. Traffic was relatively thin with most people already at their Christmas Eve destinations, but there were a few people out and about on the sidewalks, bundled up against the cold and carrying gift bags and boxes.
He was thankful he had talked Sonny into going home tonight. They had a busy day on Staten Island tomorrow, one that started bright and early with a Christmas mass attended by all the Carisis, and Sonny had originally wanted to spend Christmas Eve night there to make things easier. But Rafael had gotten him to see the appeal in a quiet night at home before the chaos of the next day.
The win had been two fold, he avoided an extra night squeezed into the uncomfortable twin bed of Sonny’s youth, and it allowed him to put the final plans regarding Sonny’s gift into motion. A gift that Rafael had decided on months ago and had been in the works for weeks, requiring coordination with, and subterfuge from, multiple individuals.
Now he just needed the rest of the night to go right.
As if on cue, Sonny’s phone started buzzing in the pocket of his black peacoat, a series of rapid fire texts from one of Rafael’s co-conspirators.
“If this is work, I swear to God…” Sonny grumbled as he pulled out his phone and frowned at the screen. “It’s my mother. Apparently every store on Staten Island is out of whole nutmeg and she needs me to find some to bring tomorrow.”
“Is ground nutmeg not an option?” Rafael asked innocently even though he already knew the answer.
Sonny looked horrified. “Are you trying to ruin Christmas?”
Rafael held up his hands, biting back a laugh. “My mistake.”
“Ugh.” Sonny ran a hand down his face in frustration. “Do you know what a nightmare grocery stores are on Christmas Eve?”
“Purposely I do not,” Rafael commented absently, scrolling through his phone. “Oh look, there’s a Whole Foods only a few blocks from here.”
“What? We’re still like 20 blocks from home. I’ll just go to the place on the corner after we drop this stuff off.”
“And what if they don’t have it? Then you’ll have to go somewhere else anyway and I can carry two bags of leftovers on my own. Can you pull over here?” Rafael asked the driver before Sonny could protest again.
“Is Whole Foods even open? It’s getting late and-”
“Even more reason for you to go check now.”
Sonny narrowed his eyes at him, the scrutinizing gaze of an experienced detective. “You’re being weird.”
“I’m not being weird. You’re the one who said that Christmas would be ruined if your mom didn’t get whole nutmeg. I personally don’t have a nutmeg preference, so I don’t care. But if you want to let your mom down on her favorite day of the year…” Rafael felt a little bad making Sonny feel guilty, but it was the one thing that was sure to work.
“Are you getting out or what?” The driver asked impatiently from the front seat.
“He is,” Rafael said, giving Sonny a look.
“Fine,” Sonny sighed. “But if I don’t survive this, know that I love you, but that I’m also going to haunt you forever.”
“Okay, babe.” Rafael gave his hand a pat. “Good luck.”
Once Sonny was out of the car Rafael leaned forward to speak to the driver. “I’ll give you one hundred dollars cash if you floor it.”
An hour later, with Sonny’s gift secured and waiting, Rafael moved nervously about their apartment, turning on the lights of the Christmas tree and the ones that Sonny had hung to frame their living room windows. He connected his phone to the bluetooth speaker on the bookshelf, picking a random Christmas playlist, and nudging up the volume just to be safe.
As he placed two steaming mugs on the end table near the tree, he checked his watch. He worried that maybe Sonny actually had needed to go to multiple stores, or worse yet, had been caught in some sort of pre-holiday grocery store melee. He was about to check his location, when he heard a key in the lock.
Rafael felt a tad guilty when Sonny came through the door looking haggard, but he knew all would be forgiven soon enough.
“I see you survived,” he said, trying and failing to keep the teasing tone out of his voice. “But were you successful?”
Sonny pulled the small jar of whole nutmeg out of the pocket of his coat. “I had to fight an old lady, but I saved Christmas.”
“Well, now that we don’t have to cancel the whole thing, let’s open gifts!”
Sonny chuckled at Rafael’s eagerness as he hung up his coat on the hook by the door. “Yes, we’ll open gifts, but let me change first.” He started for their bedroom, but Rafael took him by the arm.
“You can change later. I made you hot chocolate and it’s getting cold.” He gestured toward the mugs he’d sat down earlier, hot chocolate for Sonny in Rafael’s “Tears of Opposing Counsel” mug and coffee for Rafael in his “Will Give Legal Advice for Coffee” mug. He didn’t share Sonny’s caffeine sensitivity and could drink coffee at 10pm and be asleep by eleven.
“What is going on with you?” Sonny asked, laughter in his voice as Rafael steered him toward the tree. It was usually Sonny acting like a little kid when it came to Christmas.
“Can’t I get into the spirit of things?” Rafael asked before adding, “Plus it’s already late and we have to get up so early tomorrow.”
“There’s the real reason.” Sonny laughed as he settled onto the floor, cross legged next to the tree skirt. “You can’t miss your beauty sleep.”
“I’m more worried about you. I’m going to nap while you all go to mass,” Rafael said as he sat on the edge of the recliner. Rafael might win when it came to caffeine tolerance, but Sonny bested him in being able to sit on the floor without it causing his knees and back to hurt for a week.
“You know my mother lights a candle for you every time. She worries for your immortal soul.”
“I share a bed with her son, but yeah, it’s skipping Christmas mass that’s gonna send me to hell,” Barba said lightly.
Sonny shrugged, he’d given up trying to make sense of his mother’s thinking years ago,, and reached over to grab his mug of hot chocolate. After taking a sip he hit Rafael with the same scrutinizing look he’d given him in the Uber. “This is the real stuff, not the packet. What’s going on? Something weird is happening. Are you sick? Is my mom sick? Is that why you didn’t want to stay there tonight? So you could tell me first? Are you-”
“Sonny,” Rafael put a hand on his shoulder with a chuckle. “I know I’m not usually Father Christmas, but do you really think I would wait and give you bad news on Christmas Eve?”
“No, I suppose not…” Sonny seemed to visibly calm, though he still looked suspicious.
“I just know how important this all is to you.” Rafael gestured toward the tree and the lights. “And I’m just trying to lean in, but if you don’t want your gifts…”
Sonny grinned, quickly setting his mug to the side and pulling wrapped boxes from under the tree.
Twenty minutes later, the living room floor was scattered with wrapping paper and the only gifts left under the tree were the ones they would be taking with them to Sonny’s parents’ house. Rafael had received a tie he’d specifically asked for (he knew better than to let Sonny pick one out on his own), a signed first edition of Slaughterhouse Five that Sonny had found on eBay, and a new mug that said “I put the cute in prosecutor,” which had garnered a huge eye roll on his part.
“I still can’t believe it,” Sonny said, still in his spot on the floor, but now he was opening the box of the new stand mixer he’d been eyeing the last time they’d been in Williams Sonoma. “It’s too much, Raf, really.”
“It was selfish on my part,” Rafael said with a shrug, taking a sip of his now cold coffee. “The baked goods have really slowed down since your old one broke.”
Sonny laughed, pulling out the manual and flipping through it the way a straight man would a Playboy.
“Oh,” Rafael said as if he’d just remembered something. “You have one more. I’m sorry, I wrapped it this afternoon and forgot to put it under the tree.” He grabbed a small rectangular box wrapped in red paper from the bookshelf and handed it over to Sonny. “It’s just a small one.”
“You already got me so much,” Sonny said, tearing open the paper and then opening the small white box to reveal a gift card.
“What?” Rafael asked when Sonny started to laugh.
“Raf, do you know what Chewy is?”
He furrowed his brow in confusion. “Carmen said it was gourmet food or something. I thought you’d like it.”
“No,” Sonny said, still chuckling. “It’s for pet supplies.”
“What? No, that can’t be right. I swear, she specifically told me it was some fancy food thing that you’d really be into.” He reached into both his pockets. “I think I left my phone in the bedroom, but I’m going back through the texts. Maybe I read it wrong.”
“Raf, it’s fine,” Sonny said, but Rafael was already heading toward the bedroom.
“We can just give it to Bella. I told you they got a new cat,” Rafael heard him call from the living room as he opened the closet door where Sonny’s real gift waited.
“We could,” he said as he walked back out to the living room. “Or, you could spend it on her.”
“On wh-” The question died when Sonny looked up to see the tiny French Bulldog puppy that was cradled in Rafael’s arms. “Are you serious?” His voice cracked with emotion. “Don’t mess with me, Raf. Are you serious?”
Rafael felt a knot in his own throat at the happiness in his husband’s eyes. He knew they were in for months of teething and accidents, but it was worth it for the look on Sonny’s face when he sat down next to him on the floor—sore knees be damned—and handed over the sleepy puppy. “I’m serious. She’s all yours.”
“Oh my God.” Sonny nuzzled the soft, dark gray fur. “But you said you refused to have dog hair all over your suits.”
Ever since they’d watched Frannie for Rollins one weekend nearly a year ago, Sonny had been trying to talk Rafael into getting a dog. And it was true that at first Rafael had been adamantly against it, but there were few things in life he wouldn’t do to make Sonny Carisi happy, so he’d come around. Not that he’d let on.
Instead he had spent the last several months planning this surprise and trying to decide on the right rescue to adopt from. He was pretty sure Olivia, Carmen, and Rita were all ready to strangle him; they’d had to hear so much about this puppy.
“Yeah, well, you’re going to be buying me lint rollers in bulk.”
“Worth it.”
“And you’re doing all the feeding and walking and training.”
“No problem.” Sonny still hadn’t looked up from the scrunched little face. The puppy was more awake now and was nibbling on his fingers.
“We’ll have to decide on a name for h-”
“It’s Ruth Bader Ginsbark,” Sonny said before Rafael could even finish his sentence.
“You just had that at the ready?” He asked with a laugh.
Sonny shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”
“What if she’d been a boy?”
“Rafael Barka,” Sonny said immediately.
“Oh my God. You can’t be serious.”
Sonny finally looked up at him. “You’re my other favorite lawyer.”
It was the sincerity in his voice that had Rafael’s heart melting all over again. This was why he was willing to put up with any inconvenience that might come along with having a dog.
“I thought you’d want to pick out most of her stuff, hence the gift card, but I got the basics to get us through the next couple of days. It’s all in the bedroom.”
“You’re the best, really. I love you so much.” Sonny leaned over to kiss him softly and the puppy let out a little yip. “Aw, RBG, are you already jealous?”
Rafael shook his head at the nickname, but couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh man, I wonder if my parents are still up. We’ll have to let them know we’ll have her with us tomorrow. We can’t leave her here. No we can’t. We can’t leave you all alone can we? You’re just a baby.”
Rafael rolled his eyes as Sonny devolved into baby talk. He had a feeling this was going to be his life now. “They already know.”
“What? Really?”
“I needed a co-conspirator to keep you away from the apartment so Liv could drop off little Justice Ginsburg here.” It was a debt Olivia would be making him pay for a long time. Apparently Noah was now begging her to get a dog of their own.
“Wait. The nutmeg. That was a ruse?”
“Yes, obviously. Aren’t you a detective?”
“Oh my God, Raf,” Sonny ignored the dig. “I really did swipe the last jar right as an old woman was reaching for it!”
“I just asked your mom to distract you! It’s not my fault you Carisis see nutmeg as life or death.” Ruth barked as if in agreement. “Ha! Now who’s side is she on?”
“Wow! What a little traitor.” Sonny said with a laugh, tickling Ruth’s belly playfully.
“She knows who saved her from that puppy mill.” Rafael reached over to give her a pet, catching sight of his watch as he did so. “It’s late, we should really get to bed.”
“Come on, RBG,” Sonny said, standing. “Want to come snuggle with your daddies?”
“Oh, no,” Rafael said, following him toward the bedroom. “Do you know how much dog research I’ve done in the last three months? She needs to be crate trained.”
“Come on, Raf. It’s her first night. And it’s Christmas.”
“This was a mistake. Noah grew quite fond of her over the last couple of days. Maybe she should just go back to them.”
Sonny covered the dog’s ears. “He didn’t mean that, Ruthie.” And then to Rafael. “Please, just tonight?”
It was ridiculous that Rafael could face down hardened criminals in court without even a flinch, but one pleading look from Sonny Carisi had him caving. But he did have one play left. “You can let her sleep with us, or I can blow you. Which do you pick?”
“Puppy,” Sonny answered without hesitation.
“God, what have I done?”