C H A P T E R    T W E N T Y S E V E N

Friends and Fools

(21 days til' Christmas)

❄●❄

                  "I JUST WANT to make sure you've properly thought it through, is all. The last thing I need is for this to blow up on you and to have to deal with it from thousands of miles away."

                  Harry crossed his free arm across his stomach, gripping the fabric of his work shirt against his ribs and narrowed his eyes, realizing he'd heard something similar to this before. But then Olivia was moving, coming back into view to clear off a table that just vacated and Harry shook it off. The mere sight of her restored his confidence; no matter what Louis or Ed said, this would be the best Christmas gift she's ever received.

                  "I like how you didn't feel the need to preach at me when I first brought it up. Only now after I told you what Louis said," Harry quipped back, but he sounded distracted. And he was, really.

                  Ed sighed on the other line. "I'm not preaching at you. I still think it's a great idea. But I know you, Harry, and I know how you'll get if you fail. I just don't want you to set yourself up for something that very possibly could end in disaster."

                  "What makes you think so? Have you spoken to him? Does he sound like it's something he wouldn't be interested in?"

                  "I haven't spoken to him yet, no. I wanted to have this conversation with you first."

                  Harry craned his neck to see the clock now. He was on break and decided to waste it with this phone call, but luckily he still had some of it left. "Well, I don't want to have this conversation at all until you talk to him. And even then, I don't want to have it unless he sounds unsure or unwilling. Which he won't."

                  To Harry's surprise, Ed chuckled, and he imagined the ginger slowly shaking his head. "London has not changed you a bit. Glad to know it. Well, on second thought, it might have made you a bit sassier. I'll talk to you soon."

                  "That wasn't London's doing. Call me as soon as you've both spoken."

                  "Ah. Louis', then. Will do."

                  "Goodbye, Edward."

                  "Ugh. Goodbye, Harry Edward."

                  When Harry pulled his phone away from his ear, he was smiling. He was annoyed that Ed had doubted the plan for even a second, but also he missed the wanker and couldn't wait to see him again. He wished they'd talk on the phone more often, especially since this will be the first Christmas they've ever spent apart.

                  Noting that he had a few minutes left of his break, Harry sucked in a breath and made a second phone call without thinking it through too much.

                  "Harry," Zayn answered after three rings. "What's up, mate?"

                  "Hey. I was..." Damn, he thought. This might have been a worse idea than it originally seemed. "Would you, uh. Would you mind terribly maybe coming down to the hotel for lunch? I was hoping to talk to you quickly, if that's alright."

                  "Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?"

                  An awkward giggle escaped his pursed lips before he could stop himself. "Yes and no. Maybe. So, what do you say?"

                  "Could Liam join? I'm at his, so..."

                  "I don't mind. It's mostly up to you. I don't know if he knows what you know, or if you don't care that he finds out, or...you know. He's definitely welcome if you don't care."

                  "Should be okay, I'd think. I can always send him to get me something to drink at the bar if it comes down to that. See you soon."

                  A weight disappeared from Harry's shoulders that he wasn't aware had been there, and he was smiling again. Thank God that went well. "Yes. Thank you. See you soon."

                  "Styles!"

                  Harry stuffed his phone into his pocket and whipped around, spotting one of his managers waving him down from the back of the kitchen.

                  "Give me a hand with some of these boxes, will you?" he continued.

                  And so Harry got back to work. He hated these mornings shifts and normally avoided them due to the fact that it's delivery day. He ends up doing more unloading and storing and cleaning than he does any actual restaurant work, which means he gets less tips.

                  Today in particular is annoying, because he has to make trips into the restaurant hall to watch for Zayn and Liam. And once they get there, he'll have to make up some excuse to return to the hall for a while. Maybe he might be able to convince one of the other waiters to switch duties with him just until he's finished speaking with Zayn?

                  The waiter willing to make the switch wound up being Grant, a boy Harry's age who just started two weeks ago. Of course, he didn't put up much of a fight once Harry promised him any tips he managed to collect while their duties were swapped. And Zayn arrived with Liam in tow sooner than Harry expected he would.

                  Not that they probably cared, but Harry sat them at the best table in the restaurant, one with a view out their cleanest window and a relatively safe distance away from every other customer.

                  Zayn looked nice. He always looked nice, but instead of dressing in his purposefully casual disarray, he wore slate gray skinnies and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, his hair still quaffed but somehow...cleaner, crisper. His beard even looked like it's been groomed since the last time Harry saw him.

                  Liam looked like Liam, which was still up to par with his lunch date because the lad always looked that clean. As he handed them both menus, a small part of Harry's mind tried to remember if he's ever seen Liam look like a mess. Or if he's even seen him in sweats. He didn't think so.

                  "Thanks for inviting us, Harry," Liam was saying, his eyes scanning the laminated menu. "I've never eaten at a hotel I wasn't staying at. Any recommendations?"

                  "The steaks are all really good; they're the cook's specialty. She gets them right every time, however you order them," Harry said. "Otherwise if you look on the back there are some good pastas. I like the spaghetti, but I'm pretty simple."

                  "So, what's going on? How's Louis?" Zayn asked, setting his menu down.

                  "He's, uh... I don't know, honestly."

                  "Story of our lives," Liam commented, snorting. He was still looking over his options, unable to see that Harry's face was wrinkled with concern and that Zayn's lips were pursed upon hearing that answer. "Li, do you know what you want?"

                  Harry pulled his little notepad out of his back pocket and scribbled down both boys' orders as they said them. Before he was finished writing down Zayn's salad specifications, Liam plucked the drink menu out from their table's centerpiece and began examining it until Zayn snatched it away.

                  "Want to go order us something from the bar while Harry brings our order in? Will probably be faster that way," Zayn was saying to him. Harry glanced between the two boys and realized what was happening.

                  "I'll be back," he said, slipping away and into the kitchen before hearing Liam's response to Zayn's request.

                  Harry tore their order out of his notepad and clipped it to the cook's station, expertly moving about the kitchen until he had a loaf of bread, a small plate of butter for it, and the small bowl of soup Zayn had ordered with his salad. By the time he returned to their table, Liam was gone.

                  "So anyway, tell me what's up," Zayn said.

                  And so Harry launched into his tale about Olivia and her father, leaving out same details he left out for Louis about the whole elf, North Pole thing, and explaining his desire to reunite them at their staff Christmas party. After that, he tried recalling the way Louis was acting the night before and read him the texts Lottie had sent him. When he was finished, his mood had dropped considerably as if he'd somehow managed to make himself forget any of this was even happening up until now, when he had to say it all aloud.

                  Zayn listened quietly through the entire thing, sometimes staring up at him beneath a furrowed brow, sometimes gazing blankly at the empty space in front of him. But once Harry stopped talking, Zayn cleared his throat and straightened in his seat.

                  "That sounds a lot like the way Louis just gets during this time of year. I know it sucks and I know you wish you could do more to help him – we all do, and we all always have – but like... It's going to sound weird, but I just don't know that he wants to stop being upset."

                  "Yeah, but like..." Harry tried, gesturing with his hands like it would help him form coherent sentences. "There's got to be more to it. It seems like more than just hating Christmas because his dad left, I mean – "

                  "What has he all told you?" Zayn asked, his voice clipped and quiet. While he asked, he arched his back over the edge of his chair, peering around Harry. Probably to confirm that Liam was still busy elsewhere.

                  Harry looks as well, just to make sure. "About that first Christmas, when his dad left. About the way his mum reacted to it for the next few years before things went back to normal. About you guys in uni. Um. His best mate dying in a car crash right before the holidays one year. I'm forgetting something, I know it."

                  Zayn visibly cringed at the memory of him and Louis in uni, and Harry almost regretted mentioning it.

                  "Oh! The year his mum had been in contact with his dad and had arranged for him to visit for Lou's birthday but he never showed. That's everything I know."

                  Slowly, and still through pursed lips, Zayn nodded. But if it was truly the whole story, there'd be more advice. Zayn would be offering up some sort of explanation, a few options Harry might have to work with, to help Louis as best he could. But he said nothing, and Harry tilted his head.

                  "But it isn't everything, is it?"

                  Zayn's answering expression was answer enough.

                  Liam returned with their drinks, and Harry felt himself becoming frustrated. He had known that Louis was still keeping something from him, had suspected it since that day in his classroom when he'd claimed Harry now knew the whole story. But somehow, having his suspicions confirmed made it all worse.

                  "I'll go check on your food," Harry said, avoiding both of their gazes – Zayn, sympathetic and Liam, a mixture of confusion and concern – as he backed away before ducking into the safety of the kitchen.

❄●❄

                  HARRY'S EYES FLICKERED up from Ella's laptop screen at the sound of Nia letting out another delighted squeal. Olivia certainly had a way with children – Ella's child, in particular. It must be the elf in her. It also probably helps that she's reading the girl classic Christmas stories.

                  "The mouth on her," Ella commented, shaking her head, lips twisted into a small smile. "She gets that from her father."

                  Harry raised a brow but otherwise returned his attention to Ella's Pinterest account. "I don't know about that."

                  Originally, Olivia had been helping Ella organize what they'd gotten so far in terms of decorations for the big party, but someone had to occupy the little one when she woke from her nap wouldn't stop pestering her mother. Harry would have gladly done it, but Olivia beat him to it. He didn't really mind anyway; this technology thing is kind of fun to play with.

                  And they're almost done. Once Ella figures out what they have and what they still need, Harry will be able to hurry back to Louis. Hopefully he's having a better day so far. Part of Harry couldn't help worrying, no matter how many times Lottie has texted him back insisting that Louis is fine.

                  "No, really," Ella was saying, tossing a plastic bag to the side and reaching for another one. "He's on Broadway now, from what I've heard. I haven't heard anything he's done, but I've read online that he's got quite the chops."

                  An image of a particularly delicious looking cup of peppermint hot cocoa caught Harry's attention and he immediately pinned it to their board of holiday-themed recipes. It mostly looks like any other peppermint hot cocoa, but the candy cane poking out of it made it appear extra festive. "Wow. Uh, sorry if this is super forward, but what happened with him? That he didn't stick around?"

                  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ella lift a shoulder. He didn't turn his full gaze on her in case the spotlight threw off her confidence – sometimes it was easier to confess to something or tell a secret if it felt like nobody was really paying attention. At least, that's what Harry learned from a television show the other night. And the character who said that ended up getting murdered, so... Maybe he shouldn't follow this technique.

                  "He didn't believe Nia was his, so... He left. I mostly just think he wanted an excuse to break things off. It probably had nothing to do with her. We'd just been arguing constantly, and with a baby on the way, it meant he had a certain responsibility to both of us, and...well, I let him blame me for sleeping around. I wasn't, and he knew I wasn't. But he needed an out and frankly at that point I didn't really want him to stay."

                  "What an asshole," Olivia offered, pausing her story on the other side of the room. Nia looked to be too engrossed in the book's pictures to care about her mother's conversation.

                   Harry felt his eyes narrow and his brow furrow. "Why are fathers who leave their children behind so common here? You," he nodded towards Olivia, "Nia's, Louis'."

                  "Louis' dad left, too?" Ella asked.

                  "Who's Louis?"

                  "His boy toy."

                  "Yeah, he left on his birthday when he was younger. Which is Christmas Eve. I think he's kind of been messed up over it for a while," Harry sighed, abandoning Pinterest for the moment. He shut the laptop lid and sat back in Ella's living room recliner.

                  "Then...I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that mean Louis hates Christmas because he still has daddy issues?" Ella asked.

                  And sure, she might not be wrong. It all did start because of Lou's dad leaving, screwing up the holidays for the rest of his family for the next few years and then again after he failed to come see his son some years later. Louis was so against Harry reuniting Olivia with her father because of his own absent father, so yeah, Ella could be very correct.

                  But that wasn't the whole story, wasn't the only reason Louis was the way he was. Lunch with Zayn today confirmed that, if nothing else.

                  So Harry shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried to think this through. "There's got to be more to it. He's been such a mess already, and it's still just the start of December. I wish I knew what was wrong so I could help him, you know?"

                  A silence fell over the room apart from Nia's quiet babbling to herself as she pointed at the characters in her book. Olivia was staring at Harry with sympathetic, kind eyes, and Ella's lips were pursed while she stared blankly at the pile of garland on the floor in front of her. After a short moment, her eyes finally flickered over to Harry's.

                  "What if there's more to the dad thing that he hasn't told you about yet? Maybe there's more to that story."

                  He already knew this wasn't true. He didn't know why, but whatever Louis was still keeping from him had nothing to do with his dad. Harry thoroughly believed that he did know that whole story. Zayn would have told him already if he didn't.

                  "I don't know," he said. "Maybe."

                  And as if a switch had flipped, Ella was back to organizing and planning. She began emptying the plastic bag in her lap, laying things out in their corresponding piles or creating a new one if she encountered a new category of decoration or supplies. Still, she snorted. "Have you any deep, dark secret of your own, Harry?"

                  Across the room, Olivia said, "Oh yeah. A good way to get someone to open up is to offer up something of equal caliber yourself first."

                  Ella nodded. "Yes. Exactly."

                  Of course he had a secret. But of course, it was one that likely would ruin everything if he ever spilled it. Louis might hate Christmas now, but Harry couldn't even imagine what would happen were he to come clean and have things end badly with Louis. If for some reason they don't work out, Louis won't ever know the truth about him. The last thing Harry wants is for Louis to hate the holiday even more.

                  But then again, no good relationship is built on secrets. If he expects Louis to come clean at some point, doesn't that mean he'll have to as well? And if what Ella and Olivia say has any merit – and it does, Harry knows – then he might have to do it first. If he can get Louis to enjoy Christmas before that, though, it might make things a little easier.

                  A vibration in his pocket thankfully prevented him from thinking any harder about this, and when he pulled his phone out he fully expected to find another text from Lottie. Or maybe even Louis. But it was from Ed.

         Call me as soon as possible.

                  Wrinkling his brow, Harry set Ella's laptop on the coffee table in front of him and excused himself, dialing Ed's number on his way into the empty, quiet kitchen. His friend answered on the second ring.

                  "Where's the fire?" Harry asked teasingly.

                  "H, your mum is in the hospital."

                  "What?"

                  "She's had a heart attack. You should get here."