A trip to visit his boyfriend Nate’s parents during the holidays leaves Emerson a nervous wreck. Bad weather and an unfortunate mix-up leads to an awkward first introduction, and as things deteriorate from there, Emerson begins to doubt if their relationship will survive the stressful weekend. Can Emerson get everything back on track and impress the Collins family in time to have a Merry Christmas?
My original read from 6 years ago was short and sweet. Sometimes short and sweet says it all. When I was deciding on a short novella to read for Mother's Day I came across Brigham Vaughn's Baby, It's Cold Inside and realized it was doubly perfect as the weather TV people were predicting unusually cold temps for a large portion of the US and here in Wisconsin they were saying colder temps than on Christmas morning, so what better read than a Xmas tale?
As I said, it's been 6 years since I read Inside, but it all came flooding back. The passion, the chemistry, the anxiety, the drama, humor, and of course all the heart. I still found myself warring between shaking Emerson and Mama Bear hugging him reassuring him to just be himself. Then there is possibly the sweetest, cutest family-meet scene when Emerson wakes up to Nate's little sisters, Katie and Ava who were expecting to find a girl not a boy. Kids can be difficult to write in a favorable way, I have found that there is a fine line between cute & sassy and spoiled & bratty, well Brigham Vaughn definitely pulled off cute & sassy with Katie and Ava.
Just a delight to read. Baby, It's Cold Inside was a great read the first time around and it's an even brighter re-reading gem. Great blend of Christmasy sweet and lasting heart.
Original Review May 2014:
Humor, love, the holidays! It's the whole package. Emerson is so filled with anxiety that you just want to hug him till the holiday is over.
RATING:
Both boys stomped their feet and dusted the snow off as they got themselves situated. Nate dug in his pocket for his keys but Emerson stopped him, wanting one last kiss before he braved meeting the future in-laws. Because no matter how short of a time he had been with Nate, he knew that was what he wanted. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Nate, buy some little house in a neighborhood like this and have a life together with a couple of kids and maybe a dog. Just because he was young and gay didn’t mean he didn’t want the kind of life his parents had together.
They weren’t going to rush things by running off and getting married too soon; they were trying to be practical about it. But Emerson knew what his goal was, and in order to achieve that he had to impress the people he would someday be related to by marriage, and he was scared shitless he’d screw it up. He let go of the handle of his suitcase and set the large shopping bag full of presents down on the cement. “Kiss for luck?”
Nate looked up at him, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Sure, Em.”
He lowered his own bags down and took Emerson’s face in his hands, his gloves—still lightly dusted with snow from touching the trunk lid—were cold on Emerson’s cheeks, but his lips were warm and soft. “They’re gonna love you, I know it,” Nate said when he drew back.
“I hope so,” Emerson said with a sigh. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like if they didn’t. He kissed Nate again, this time with a little tongue and he felt more than heard Nate chuckle. They were pressed flat against each other—Nate’s hands still cradling his face, and Emerson’s hands on Nate’s hips—when the door opened. The sudden rush of warmth and light into the cold, snowy night made them jerk apart and Emerson’s cheeks flooded with heat. Shit, not the way I wanted to meet the parents, he thought, feeling a rush of disappointment. It wasn’t supposed to go like this at all.
------
“Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Collins. I’m Emerson Brady. Nate’s boyfriend?”
The last part wasn’t supposed to come out like a question, but he grew more and more apprehensive at the blank look on their faces. What the hell is going on? He wondered as the nerves he’d been holding at bay for most of the day finally let loose.
Nate’s parents just stared at him, blinking, but utterly still otherwise, neither reaching for his hand. Emerson looked around for a moment, feeling like someone was pulling a prank on him.
“This is the right house, isn’t it?” He looked over at Nate, surprised to see that he was just as frozen, a horrified, uncomfortable expression on his face. “Nate?” he asked, his voice cracking a little. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”
Nate finally seemed to rouse himself. “Mom, dad, this is Em. I’ve told you a lot about him, remember?”
Mrs. Collins nodded and gave Emerson a tight smile before looking over at her son. “Come in please.” Her voice sounded stiff and strained, and Emerson apprehensively followed them into the house. No one spoke as the boys dumped their bags on the tiled entryway, shrugged out of their coats, and unlaced their boots. Emerson felt like he was choking on the tension as he silently followed everyone into the living room, the warmth of the home almost painful on his chilled skin. It was a bright and cheerful space with carols playing in the background and a fat Christmas tree that took up one corner of the room. The tree was covered in a dazzling array of white lights and a hodgepodge of ornaments that had clearly been collected over the years alongside some red globes and a bright yellow star on top.
In fact, as Emerson took a seat on the sofa next to Nate, he decided that was the ambiance of the entire house. Warm and welcoming, with a mismatched yet somehow appealing collection of furniture and decor. It was an orderly, well-loved home for a family.
And yet, that family was not the loving, happy one Emerson had expected from the stories Nate had told him about. Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat stiffly on the couch across from them. Mr. Collins glowered at them, and although Nate bore a passing resemblance to his dark haired, dark eyed father, it was hard to believe anyone who looked so unhappy could ever be related to Nate. Nate was always cheerful, always ready to look on the bright side of things and see the best in people.
Mrs. Collins looked equally uncomfortable. Her features were more like Nate’s, although of a lighter coloring. With her unflattering jeans and shapeless red sweater, she looked like just about any other suburban mom, but her expression was pinched and she perched on the edge of the sofa like she was about to bolt.
Emerson couldn’t take the silence a moment longer and he turned to look at Nate. “What is going on here?” he asked in an urgent whisper. “Why are they staring at me like I’m a zoo animal?”
Although he tried to be quiet, it came out a little louder than he intended and he heard Mr. Collins clear his throat. Mrs. Collins was the one who spoke though.
“Well, um, Emerson was it?” He nodded. “When Nate told us he was bringing his partner home for Christmas we thought it was an uh, female someone.”
They weren’t going to rush things by running off and getting married too soon; they were trying to be practical about it. But Emerson knew what his goal was, and in order to achieve that he had to impress the people he would someday be related to by marriage, and he was scared shitless he’d screw it up. He let go of the handle of his suitcase and set the large shopping bag full of presents down on the cement. “Kiss for luck?”
Nate looked up at him, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Sure, Em.”
He lowered his own bags down and took Emerson’s face in his hands, his gloves—still lightly dusted with snow from touching the trunk lid—were cold on Emerson’s cheeks, but his lips were warm and soft. “They’re gonna love you, I know it,” Nate said when he drew back.
“I hope so,” Emerson said with a sigh. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like if they didn’t. He kissed Nate again, this time with a little tongue and he felt more than heard Nate chuckle. They were pressed flat against each other—Nate’s hands still cradling his face, and Emerson’s hands on Nate’s hips—when the door opened. The sudden rush of warmth and light into the cold, snowy night made them jerk apart and Emerson’s cheeks flooded with heat. Shit, not the way I wanted to meet the parents, he thought, feeling a rush of disappointment. It wasn’t supposed to go like this at all.
------
“Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Collins. I’m Emerson Brady. Nate’s boyfriend?”
The last part wasn’t supposed to come out like a question, but he grew more and more apprehensive at the blank look on their faces. What the hell is going on? He wondered as the nerves he’d been holding at bay for most of the day finally let loose.
Nate’s parents just stared at him, blinking, but utterly still otherwise, neither reaching for his hand. Emerson looked around for a moment, feeling like someone was pulling a prank on him.
“This is the right house, isn’t it?” He looked over at Nate, surprised to see that he was just as frozen, a horrified, uncomfortable expression on his face. “Nate?” he asked, his voice cracking a little. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”
Nate finally seemed to rouse himself. “Mom, dad, this is Em. I’ve told you a lot about him, remember?”
Mrs. Collins nodded and gave Emerson a tight smile before looking over at her son. “Come in please.” Her voice sounded stiff and strained, and Emerson apprehensively followed them into the house. No one spoke as the boys dumped their bags on the tiled entryway, shrugged out of their coats, and unlaced their boots. Emerson felt like he was choking on the tension as he silently followed everyone into the living room, the warmth of the home almost painful on his chilled skin. It was a bright and cheerful space with carols playing in the background and a fat Christmas tree that took up one corner of the room. The tree was covered in a dazzling array of white lights and a hodgepodge of ornaments that had clearly been collected over the years alongside some red globes and a bright yellow star on top.
In fact, as Emerson took a seat on the sofa next to Nate, he decided that was the ambiance of the entire house. Warm and welcoming, with a mismatched yet somehow appealing collection of furniture and decor. It was an orderly, well-loved home for a family.
And yet, that family was not the loving, happy one Emerson had expected from the stories Nate had told him about. Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat stiffly on the couch across from them. Mr. Collins glowered at them, and although Nate bore a passing resemblance to his dark haired, dark eyed father, it was hard to believe anyone who looked so unhappy could ever be related to Nate. Nate was always cheerful, always ready to look on the bright side of things and see the best in people.
Mrs. Collins looked equally uncomfortable. Her features were more like Nate’s, although of a lighter coloring. With her unflattering jeans and shapeless red sweater, she looked like just about any other suburban mom, but her expression was pinched and she perched on the edge of the sofa like she was about to bolt.
Emerson couldn’t take the silence a moment longer and he turned to look at Nate. “What is going on here?” he asked in an urgent whisper. “Why are they staring at me like I’m a zoo animal?”
Although he tried to be quiet, it came out a little louder than he intended and he heard Mr. Collins clear his throat. Mrs. Collins was the one who spoke though.
“Well, um, Emerson was it?” He nodded. “When Nate told us he was bringing his partner home for Christmas we thought it was an uh, female someone.”
Brigham Vaughn is on the adventure of a lifetime as a full-time writer. She devours books at an alarming rate and hasn’t let her short arms and long torso stop her from doing yoga. She makes a killer key lime pie, hates green peppers, and loves wine tasting tours. A collector of vintage Nancy Drew books and green glassware, she enjoys poking around in antique shops and refinishing thrift store furniture. An avid photographer, she dreams of traveling the world and she can’t wait to discover everything else life has to offer her.
Her books range from short stories to novellas. They explore gay, lesbian, and polyamorous romance in contemporary settings.
To stay up to date on her latest releases, sign up for the Coles & Vaughn Newsletter.
SMASHWORDS / PINTEREST / SCRIBd / B&N
EMAIL: brighamvaughn@gmail.com
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