

Chrismukkah, a Synergy short story
Author’s note
Dear reader,
In 2024, Chanukkah started on December 25, inspiring me to set this story on Chrismukkah, a totally made-up (though not by me) name for when Christmas and Chanukkah overlap.
This story is best enjoyed if you’ve read Boss Me, and you can grab it here.
Happy Chrismukkah and happy New Year!
All my best,
Michelle
Chapter 1
BEN, 5 Days Before Chrismukkah
There’s nothing quite like the sploosh of tempera paint on starched ivory poplin.
I carefully peeled the paper off my back. “You okay, Aiden?”
The eight-year-old took a second to untangle himself from his oversized painting smock before he sprang up from the linoleum tiles of the community center’s art room. He stuck out his lower lip. “I just wanted to show you my painting.”
Holding it out, I peered at the smeared paper. I swallowed a half-dozen guesses and the question, What was it, and instead said, “Tell me about it.”
“It’s my house. Well, it was my house. Before we had to move.” Before my mom lost her job, he didn’t need to say. His mom was getting job placement and housing help from two organizations funded by the foundation I worked for.
“Are those, um, flowers?” I pointed at some red splotches near the bottom.
“Yeah, there were roses. I didn’t like ’em because there were always bees around.” He sighed. “I miss the bees.”
Everything around me—the chatter of the other kids, the overpowering stink of paint, the buzzing fluorescent lights—faded. “Is everything okay at home?” Had some kid-hating boyfriend moved in, or had the heat been shut off in their temporary housing?
“We’re okay. I just wish I had my own room. My little sister busted up my Lego Star Wars ship and made it into a house for her Polly Pockets.”
I sighed out the breath I’d been holding. I knew that feeling. When times were rough, I’d spent too many nights on my sister Mimi’s couch with my early-bird older sister shining the kitchen light into my night-owl eyes.
“Soon, buddy. We’re working on it.” Aiden and his family, the Frosts, were part of our housing help program, but these things took time, especially in the crowded San Francisco housing market.
“You think we’ll have a house by Christmas?”
I winced. “That’s only five days away, so probably not. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” He looked down at his worn, hand-me-down sneakers.
“And I’m sorry about your painting.” I held it out to him. “You have time to redo it.”
He took the thick paper from me. “Maybe I’ll paint our new house this time.”
“Sure. One with your very own room.”
“Yeah.” He scrutinized it. “Sorry about your shirt. Think it’ll wash out?” He circled around me and touched the mess on the expensive cream-colored fabric. His fingertip came away with a smear of red.
I shrugged. Norma was talented, but this would take a miracle. “Guess I should’ve worn a smock.”
“Is Cooper gonna be mad?”
Hmm. I’d never seen the point of keeping quiet about my personal life. And to these kids, my gruff, serious fiancé—oops, I meant husband—must’ve seemed like some sort of parental figure. “Nah.” I peered over my shoulder at the back of my shirt. “He doesn’t get mad about clothes.”
“Maybe you can find something in the store.” I knew he meant the thrift shop around the corner, the one where families in crisis could shop for free on Sunday mornings.
“Good idea,” I said.
“Did I hear we’re going shopping?” Marlee sidled up next to me. Wiser than me, she’d put on a smock over her blush-pink merino wool sweater.
Aiden had already turned to go, but he pivoted awkwardly back toward us. All the straight boys in the after-school program were in love with Marlee, with her Disney-Princess long brown hair, opalescent skin, and sparkling eyes. I had to keep reminding them she was married.
“It’s that or borrow a smock.” I flapped a hand at my wrecked shirt. “I don’t want to ruin my coat too. Go on, Aidan.” The boy’s starry eyes refocused on me. “You have time to work on another painting before your mom picks you up.” Reluctantly, he shuffled away.
“If things don’t work out with Tyler…” I raised my eyebrows.
She smiled. “He’s a good kid. But Tyler and I are forever, you know? Just like you and Cooper.”
“Yeah.” I sighed, remembering our gorgeous wedding on the island last month. On our honeymoon, Cooper had actually locked his phone and laptop in the resort safe, and his enormous family had left us alone in our bungalow for a week of sleeping late and eating room service on the veranda. Of cuddling together on the chaise longue and skinny-dipping in the pool. “Forever.”
Marlee’s voice startled me out of my daydream when she spoke behind me. “You know, it’s actually kind of pretty.”
“What is?”
“Your shirt. It’s got an impressionistic kind of vibe. Like a sunset.”
“Poor Aiden. I feel bad that I ruined his picture.”
“Maybe you could give him your shirt instead.”
I snorted. “Cooper’s personal stylist, Spencer, picked this out. It’s a three-hundred-dollar shirt. I didn’t pay that much for my first couch.”
“Sir Isaac Newton’s curly wig! After we go to the thrift shop, you’ll go home in one that costs three dollars.”
“Maybe I’ll splurge on a five-dollar one.”
“Big spender.” She cuffed my shoulder. “I still miss you at the office, you know.”
“I miss you too. I’m glad you decided to volunteer here.”
“Me too. Not only do I get to see my favorite former coworker, but I get to spend time with kids. And improve my art skills. Dad and I paint together sometimes when I visit.”
“That’s so sweet. Is he doing okay?”
“Yeah, he’s stable. No better, no worse. And he seems happy.” She shrugged. “It’s all we can hope for.”
“Are you going to see him on Christmas?”
“They do a huge dinner at his facility on Christmas Eve, and lots of the families come. Tyler and I are going and then flying out late that night to Chicago to be with his family on Christmas morning.” She shimmied her shoulders happily. “There’s always so much drama up there. I can’t wait to hear about everyone’s love lives.”
“Ooh, tell me—”
“And I had to be super-sneaky with my gift for Tyler. I got him tickets to the reunion tour of one of those ’90s bands he loves, but I didn’t want to get him just the tickets, so I ordered one of their tour shirts, and then I had to watch the deliveries for, like, a week to make sure I snatched it off the porch before he did. What are you getting Cooper for Christmas?”
“C-Christmas?” My heart stopped, then took off like a rocket.
“Or Chanukkah. Whatever you’re celebrating. I think they overlap this year. Chrismukkah, right?”
Holy. Shit.
I’d forgotten to get Cooper a gift for Chrismukkah.
Chapter 2
BEN, 2 Days Before Chrismukkah
“What about this?” Marlee held up a light-blue cashmere sweater. “It matches his pretty eyes.” She fluttered her own eyelashes.
“Ugh, I don’t know.” I bit my thumbnail. “Spencer might kill me if I fuck up Cooper’s carefully curated wardrobe. And what if he hates it? He’d wear it just to make me happy, and that’d make me sad.”
She shoved the sweater back onto the rack, messing up the precisely spaced hangers in the fancy wood-paneled boutique I’d dragged her into on our lunch break. “Ada Lovelace’s flipping corset! Then what are you going to get him? We’ve been to the gadget store, the home store, and now here. I’m running out of lunch hour.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to get him. He has everything he needs, and he buys whatever he wants.” My throat tightened. I was the worst husband ever not to know what my husband wanted for Christmas. Or Chanukkah.
“It’s okay.” She fluttered her hands onto my shoulders. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I know it’s hard. What about something consumable? Treats? There’s a fantastic bakery down the street from the office where Tyler buys the most delicious cookies.”
I shook my head. “My man’s body is a temple. He only puts fuel in it, never treats. I had to force him to eat one bite of our wedding cake.”
“That cake was so delicious! The guava filling was to die for. I had two slices. But treats are out. What about, like, cigars?” She scrunched her nose.
“Ugh, even if he liked them, hard pass from me. It’d be like kissing a garbage can after.”
She took a step closer and murmured, “Sex toys? I know a place—”
I glanced around the boutique. The salesperson who’d been hovering nearby took a step closer.
Lowering my voice, I said, “We’re good in that department. Believe me. Besides, my mother will be there when we open gifts. His, too. No sex toys for his Christmas stocking.”
“Fine. Be that way. What are you going to get him, then?” She crossed her arms.
I slumped. “I don’t know.”
“Better figure it out fast,” she said in that voice that always made her boss, Jackson, snap to attention when he was slacking. “You’ve got, like, thirty-six hours until Christmas.”
#
We’d wasted too much time in my fruitless search for a gift and only had time to grab takeout sandwiches. Marlee had given me a hug and a kiss and a Merry Christmas before skipping back to the Synergy office. She had nothing to worry about. She’d bought the perfect present for her husband, Tyler, weeks ago.
When I got back to my office at the foundation, I plopped my lunch sack on my desk, stressed and hungry. Strungry? Was that a word?
I opened the bag and peered inside. Definitely more stressed than hungry. Even the cookie Marlee had slipped inside didn’t smell appealing. I didn’t have a gift for my husband for our first Chrismukkah as a married couple. Cooper would have bought an amazing gift for me because he was thoughtful. He noticed things. He’d pick out something special.
Me? I was the worst husband ever.
My assistant, Winter, burst in. Well, they didn’t exactly burst in since my office door was open. And they weren’t only my assistant. They supported everyone in the small foundation. But it was pretty epic that I, a former assistant, now had an assistant, even a fractional one.
“What are you doing here?” they said, eyes wide. They wore a festive red-and-green plaid wide-legged suit and pristine white platform sneakers for the holiday party we were having later.
“What do you mean?” I crumpled the bag closed. “I just got back from lunch.”
“Didn’t you see my email? The Frost house came through. The closing is today.”
“Today? How the heck did that happen?”
“Anonymous donor.” They shrugged. “It’s a Christmas miracle. Whatever.” They glanced at their phone. “It starts in ten, and it’s—”
I was already shrugging into my coat. “Twenty minutes away. I know, I know. I’ll run.”
I hated running. But it’d be worth it to see Aiden’s grin when his mom got the keys to the house, with a room of his own.
Chapter 3
BEN, Chrismukkah Day
I woke to sunlight streaming through the window blinds and a hot, solid body behind me. Cooper’s warmth wasn’t enough to ease the tightness in my back from helping the Frosts move into their new home yesterday, but it was nice, and I snuggled back against him.
“Morning,” he rumbled in my ear, stirring my hair against my neck and making me shiver. His heavy hand slid down my bare chest to the waistband of my boxers. My cock was already morning-stiff, and it went even harder as his thick finger teased under the elastic.
“Mmm.” I scooted my hips backward until I felt his answering hardness against my ass. “To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of waking up with you still in bed?”
“I decided to skip my run and get my cardio in a different way. There’s no fuck like a Christmas-morning fuck, right?”
“Christmas morning?” My voice went squeaky as I leaped away from him and out of the bed.
“What?” He levered up onto his elbow. “That’s what you said last year. And our families aren’t coming over until tonight. We have all day, so…” He blinked those soft blue eyes at me. Eyes I could drown in on any other day.
“Thanks, but”—I leaned over and pecked him on the lips—“no time. Gotta get your present ready.”
“Can’t my present be a long, slow, dirty—”
I missed the end of his question when I slammed my closet door behind me. That was the thing about living together. There was practically no place where I could freak out. Thank goodness we had separate closets.
I flicked on the light, illuminating my wardrobe, which took up only about half of the space. The closet was bigger than the bedroom in my first apartment. The rest of it was taken up by a few moving boxes filled with things I’d brought from storage at my sister Mimi’s place.
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for a Christmas miracle that would make a fabulous gift for Cooper appear before me.
I blinked my eyes open. No Christmas miracle. Only the boxes, my clean clothes hanging on the racks, and my dirty clothes in the hamper, with my paint-smeared dress shirt flung across the lid and last night’s stinky moving clothes wadded up on the floor.
Apparently, Christmas miracles didn’t happen for Jewish guys.
Slowly, I shuffled to the hamper. At the very least, I could give Cooper the gift of not living with a slob. I lifted the painted shirt off the hamper.
Huh. Marlee was right. If you squinted, it did look like a sunset. There was a red splotch at the center with some yellow around it, a thin line of green, and then an expanse of deep blue. The ivory fabric was the same color as the sand on the island, and I could almost imagine myself there, holding Cooper’s hand and watching the long, slow drip of the sun sinking into the water.
All I had to do was add our silhouettes, and he’d see it too.
A soft knock at the closet door startled me. “Are you okay in there?”
“Just fine,” I yelped.
“I’m going to make some coffee, unless…”
“Coffee sounds great. I’ll be down in a few.” I waited until I heard his heavy footsteps walk away, then I laid the shirt back on the hamper. I started with the top box on the stack, cursing past-Ben for not taking ten seconds to write what was inside. Ugh. Keepsakes. My high-school diploma in a cheap vinyl folio. Dried stems of flowers, the petals crumbled into dust at the bottom. Love letters tied with a rainbow-patterned ribbon. Worst, a book my ex had given me about resilience. I closed the flaps and kicked it aside, resolving to burn it all in the fire pit tomorrow.
The second box was full of old clothes, ratty T-shirts commemorating long-ago homecoming football games and logo golf shirts from all my previous employers. More fodder for the burn pile.
But in the third box, I found what I was looking for. My old art supplies and a few completed pieces, even one that wasn’t too horrible in a frame.
“Jackpot,” I whispered as I pulled out a rectangular tin with a familiar rattle. When I lifted the lid, a couple dozen permanent markers were lined up inside. I’d always suspected my Sharpie addiction would come in handy someday. Maybe today it could save me from being the world’s worst husband.
I grabbed a black fine point and prayed to the Sharpie gods as I pried off the cap. The sharp, chemical smell curled satisfyingly into my nostrils, and I touched the tip to the cuff of the shirt. When a spot of black stained the shirt, I sighed out, “Thank the newborn baby Jesus.”
Quickly, I sketched out two ovals at one side of the painting, then two body shapes to represent a pair of men sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the beach. I made one tall and broad and the other shorter and lean, with a few wisps to indicate the sea breeze teasing my curly hair. Poking my tongue between my teeth, I suggested Cooper’s strong jaw with a few bold strokes and his muscular shoulders with a loving curve.
Lifting the shirt, I held it away from me. Not bad, if you squinted at it, especially if you held some love for the artist in your heart. I set it back on the hamper lid and carefully filled in the silhouettes with a thick chisel tip marker.
In a flush of hubris, I picked up an ultra fine–tip and scrawled my signature across the lower right corner. Then I added ft. Aiden Frost underneath. Looking at it, I cringed. Even my mom stopped sticking my artwork on the refrigerator at some point. Someone with Cooper’s refined, billionaire taste would look at the homemade art and scoff at the amateurish quality.
I wavered for a second, my fingers itching to wad up the shirt and toss it into the pile of love notes and Valentines to be burned. But I couldn’t go downstairs empty-handed on Christmas morning. I’d suck up my courage, hand it over, and while he was still trying to come up with something nice to say, I’d drop to my knees and give him a Christmas blowjob to distract him from the exceptional lapse in judgment that had convinced him to marry me.
I grabbed the framed artwork in the box and carefully unfastened the back. I slipped out the mount board and used it as a guide to cut out the back of the shirt. Then I stretched the fabric over the board and taped it into place. I reassembled the frame and peered at it one more time.
It sucked, but I had no other choice but to give him this awful, slapped-together, cheap-ass gift.
Remembering my distraction strategy, I pulled on a pair of joggers and a tight T-shirt. Then I tucked the frame under my arm and slipped out of the closet. Cooper had made the bed, of course. A coffee mug clinked against the granite counter downstairs.
In the linen closet in the hallway, I found the paper I’d used to wrap Norma’s gift. God dammit, how had I remembered to get a gift for our housekeeper and completely forgotten Cooper? I vowed to set a reminder on my phone for next July to start looking for a Christmas present for my husband. A real one.
Carefully, I wrapped the frame and stuck a fancy red bow in the middle. Then, sucking in a deep breath, I descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen.
I pasted a grin onto my face. “Merry Christmas.” I set the wrapped gift on the counter.
Cooper’s smile turned over as he stared at the present. “Oh.”
Fuck, did he know how uninspired my gift was? How I’d slapped it together in fifteen minutes? Could he tell how little planning I’d done for our first Christmas together?
“I’m sorry, I—” I began.
He spoke over me. “Ben, I didn’t—”
We both stopped and exchanged wry smiles. “You go first,” I said.
Adorable little wrinkles creased his eyes. “I didn’t get you anything I could wrap. In fact, what I got isn’t even for you. But I…I thought maybe you’d like it?”
I stared, fascinated. It was so rare to see him flustered like this. “What is it?”
In a rush, he said, “I donated the rest of the money for the Frosts’ house.”
“You bought a house?”
“Not a whole one. The foundation had almost all the money they needed. I just gave them what they needed to make it happen by Christmas.” He winced. “So my gift is actually for someone else. But you kept talking about them, and about Aiden, and I knew it meant a lot to you, so…fuck, why are you crying?”
I sniffled and rubbed my snotty nose on the hem of my T-shirt. “Because that’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me. Oh my god, Cooper,” I wailed, “why are you so fucking perfect?”
He wrapped me in his arms and rubbed my back. “If I were perfect, I’d have a gift I could wrap. Or eight gifts for Chanukkah. That’s what people do, right?”
I rubbed my wet face against his shirt. “Only for kids. In my family, adults don’t exchange gifts at Chanukkah. We enjoy the time together, and the candles, and the food. Your gift is amazing. Thank you.” I lifted my face so he could see I meant it.
His smile was pure relief. “You’re welcome.” He pressed his lips to mine, and I kissed him for a moment before I gently pulled away.
“My gift is shitty,” I said. “Nothing could live up to a house.” I grasped the edge of the wrapped frame. “I’m just going to—”
“No.” His heavy hand came down on it, right next to the pathetic bow. “It’s mine.”
I shivered. I loved it when he flipped on Boss Mode.
“Okay, but I warned you.” I took my hand off the gift.
Carefully, because he did everything with one hundred percent of his attention, he turned it over and plucked at the seam. He broke the tape and separated the sides to expose the back of the frame. Lifting it, he turned it to see the picture, then flipped it again so it faced right side up. He stared at it for a second. Then ten seconds. Then ten more.
I circled the island to see his expression. “You hate it.”
“No, I…” When he looked up, his eyes glittered with unshed tears. “This is us, right? On the island?”
“Yeah. I know it sucks. It’s been a while since I drew anything.”
“It’s extraordinary.”
I snorted. “Extraordinarily awful. But it’s kinda cool that Aiden and I collaborated on it, and your gift also involves Aiden.”
“It’s because we’re connected,” he said. “I don’t normally go for the woo-woo shit, but this means something, right?” He set down the frame.
“It means we think about each other, even subconsciously.”
He grinned and stepped closer. “I can’t believe you didn’t chalk it up to a Chrismukkah miracle.”
“You have no idea how unmiraculous that gift is.”
“I love it. And I love you.”
I stretched my arms up over his shoulders and around his neck. “I love you, too.”
#
Later, when all of our family—my mom and dad, Cooper’s mom, and Mimi and Mateo—had arrived, we all sat in our living room and watched the two candles in the menorah flicker. We’d stuffed ourselves on my dad’s homemade latkes. Cooper even ate one, though he balanced it with a double helping of salad. In the corner, the small white Christmas tree I’d insisted on sparkled with multicolored lights and the glitter of the ornaments Rosa had brought from her collection.
Snuggled into Cooper’s side on the couch as I sipped a glass of red wine, I was happy. Especially when Cooper pointed to my ridiculous art that he’d hung over the mantel and declared in front of everyone, “Best Chrismukkah present ever.”
#
Happy holidays! Whatever you celebrate, I hope you’ve had a wonderful festive season.
© Michelle McCraw, 2025
Thanks so much for reading this Synergy short. If you haven’t yet picked up the story of how Ben and Cooper got together, it’s Boss Me, and you can grab it here.