“Why?”
“He’s still finding a direction.”
“Yeah, but he’s only thirty-two, practically a baby. You don’t realize how young that is because you’re not far removed from ityourself. But when you’re my age, you’ll see. He doesn’t need to have his life mapped out. He pays his bills and supports himself. How he does it is up to him.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I worry about his kind heart. That boy has been a gentle soul since birth. I don’t want him to be hurt by life lessons or a relationship gone wrong. It won’t take much for him to fall in love, and when he does, I hope she’s worthy.”
I think about the mystery woman mentioned last night, and wonder if my mom’s right. It’s been months since they met, and she’s still on his mind.
“He’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’ll be fine,” I reassure her. “What else do you need me to do?”
“I’ve got the rest.”
“Are you sure? I’m happy to help.”
She makes a shooing motion with her hands. “Go visit with Dad and Gramps.”
“Give me a yell if you need anything.”
She nods. “I will.”
I walk out to the living room where my Dad and Gramps are watchingA Christmas Story. They both stand, and I share a hug with each of them, wishing them a merry Christmas.
I drop onto the couch and kick my sock-covered feet up on the coffee table.
“What’s new, son?” Dad asks.
“Not much. Work’s been busy and taking up a lot of my time.” A gorgeous blonde has been occupying the rest, but I’m not sharing that part yet. I’ll wait until everyone is here so they can witness the shock firsthand.
“That’s a good thing, right?” Dad asks.
“Absolutely. I’m not gonna complain about the business boost the holidays bring.”
“I was thinking, I’d like to try some of those edibles,” Gramps says.
I grin. “You would, huh?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dad quickly says.
Gramps glares his way. “I’m ninety-one. What’s the worst that could happen? I drop dead?”
“It wouldn’t be a bad way to go,” I point out.
Dad sends a disapproving look my way. “Don’t encourage him, Jordan.”
“Sounds like you should try some too,” Gramps tells him, making me chuckle.
Before he can answer, we hear a commotion coming from the kitchen. Sounds like the rest of my family has arrived. One voice rises above the rest—Reed’s.
Grinning at my Dad, I reach into my pocket and pull out the packet of edibles, taking one. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”
He shakes his head.
“I do,” Gramps says, holding out his hand.
I laugh. “I can’t be responsible for your bad decisions.”
