I take Liesel’s hand. She looks up at me with so much joy on her face, I can’t believe I told her dad we weren’t in love yet.
Of course I’m in love with her.
“Yes, he does,” I say of myself. “He cares alotabout her.”
One of Liesel’s brothers groans. “Talking about yourself in the third person, are you, Coop?”
I chuckle and wave the rest of Liesel’s family over to make introductions. My mom has to be overwhelmed—she doesn’t meet new people often, and never outside of her environment. But she smiles and shakes hands and jokes with Liesel’s dad and brothers like they’re old friends.
And all I can do is watch in awe and … gratitude. Humility, maybe. I don’t know what the right word is, but the feeling is all encompassing and makes my soul hum with a contentment I’ve never known.
I have spent so many years doing everything I could to bring happiness to my family. Always making accommodations and meeting my mom where she was.
Today is unlike any day I’ve ever had.
My mom came for me.
She came for me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
LIESEL
We’re all teary when Coop introduces us to his family, even my big, dumb brothers. If they had any lingering doubts about what a great guy Coop is before this, they’re gone now. Seeing him with his mom could thaw anyone’s heart.
He’s holding his mom, tears rolling down his cheeks, and beaming brighter than the setting sun against the snow.
“Michelle, John,” my dad says after they’re introduced, “would you want to come inside?”
Coop’s mom’s eyes flit around the backyard and I can almost see the moment the panic sets in.
“Or is there space for all of us in your RV?” I ask. “I’ve always wanted to see one.”
The look of gratitude on Coop’s face is mirrored by his dad’s.
“There’s plenty of space,” Coop’s dad says. “Come on in.”
We all stomp through the snow and out to the driveway, where a huge RV is parked. My dad and brothers go in after Mr. and Mrs. Kellogg, and then Coop and I join them.
Coop’s parents are sitting on one side of a dinette table, while my dad is sitting across from them. My brothers are at a small sofa. Coop is about to sit in the driver’s seat when he looks at the roof and his eyes light up.
I laugh. “Mistletoe?”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Coop says, dropping me into a dip. “Now we can make out with impunity.”
“You really can’t,” my dad says.
“Not the wisest move, son,” Coop’s dad agrees.
Coop’s mom is laughing at all of us, and the happiness on her face makes me feel like I’m glowing from within.
Coop pecks my cheek, and I laugh. “We should let you guys celebrate together,” I say.
“Oh, please stay,” Coop’s mom says. “The three of us have spent enough Christmases alone. I didn’t come all this way to go back to where we were. Of course, you’re welcome to go into your house, and we can go to?—”
“You’re welcome to park here and use our facilities. And we’re happy to hang out as long as you can put up with us,” Dad says. Then he smiles. “You’ve raised a fine young man.”
“No take backs!” Coop says, pointing at my dad.
