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Nathan tolerates a hug from Val, but he looks self-conscious. I know it’s hard for him to be vulnerable.
We’re all about to spend the next three days being vulnerable as hell because four Christmases is a lot to handle, even if it is an exciting step forward in our relationship. I suspect the way Nathan looks now is how I’m going to feel when we walk into my parents’ house tomorrow. Nervous. Awkward. Uncertain what to say. Worried about what my family will say.
My parents know about my boyfriends because I finally told them two weeks ago, but they don’t really approve, and they definitely don’t understand. They find it hard to wrap their heads around, and I know they think–or at least hope–that this is some wild phase I’m going through and it will eventually end. Yes, I’m worried Christmas Eve will be a disaster.
But that’s tomorrow. Right now, I need to focus on reassuring Nathan that we’re all happy to be here with him.
I don’t really need to, though. Crew and Michael have it all under control.
As I give Val a hug, Crew is already shaking Stanford’s hand and buttering him up. “Mr. Armstrong, sir, it’s an honor. Thank you for all you’ve done for the Racketeers. I love this team with my whole damn heart.”
Stanford is smiling back at him. “Excellent. It’s a pleasure to meet you, kid. I’ve been watching you all season, and you’ve got a hell of a future here with the franchise. We haven’t won a championship since 1967, so I want you to bring one home for me before I die.”
For once, Crew looks sheepish and a little in awe.
“I think Stanford Armstrong is the only person on earth who can render McNeill speechless,” Michael murmurs to me.
I laugh softly. “I think you’re right.”
“Yes, sir, absolutely, sir,” Crew finally says, nodding rapidly. “I’ll give it everything I’ve got. Sir.”
“Why does he get to be called ‘sir’ and you call me Nate?” Nathan asks. “Why don’t I get that kind of respect?”
“Because you’re a damned grump,” Stanford tells him before Crew can reply.
Nathan snorts.
“I still can’t figure out how you scored this sweet and beautiful woman.” Stanford holds his hand out for me with a smile.
I smile back, my throat tightening as I take his hand. Stanford really is a lovely man. I wish so much that I could have known him before he got so frail and before his mind would wander so easily. I would have loved to hear all of his stories.
“I can’t either, Stan,” Nathan says, watching us with a bemused expression.
I’ve never known anyone who calls their grandfather by his first name, but Nathan said he got in the habit of it in his twenties because of keeping things professional within the Racketeers organization.
I squeeze Stanford’s hand. “I’m the lucky one. Your grandson is an amazing man.”
“Well, I really like him, and I’m glad you feel that way.” Stanford tugs me down to sit on the ottoman next to his chair, still holding my hand.
I feel Nathan move in behind me, and his hand on my shoulder. I look up at him, and we share a smile, and I see the love in his eyes.
Crew takes a seat on the sofa next to Val. She beams at him.
I blink. Val never beams at anyone.
“You’re doin’ good, kid,” she tells him.
Crew pushes his hair back from his face and gives her a smile. God, he’s so cute when he’s a little bashful.
Michael steps forward and extends the box of cookies. “Merry Christmas, Stanford.”
Stanford looks up at him, his eyes widening. “It’s Christmas?”
Michael nods. “It sure is. My favorite holiday.”
Stanford takes the box, and Michael pulls another chair up closer to our group. I reach out and take his hand. He gives me a wink as we link our fingers.
Stanford opens the box. “Chocolate chip!” he exclaims. “My favorite.”
