Abby caught a couple of quick looks passing between Matt’s family. She wondered what he’d told them about her background and thus her children’s lack of extended family. It didn’t make sense, but it was hard for kids going through the system not to grow up thinking there was something wrong with them, something about them that had caused them to not have a family like everyone else. Something that made them unwanted.
Until now. Matt gave her neck a squeeze, and without looking, she smiled. Matt wanted her.
Marge came in carrying a huge platter of more cookies and other yummies, followed by a little girl Abby assumed was the cousin.
“Hey, Louisa.” Matt grinned at his niece. “Don’t you want to give Uncle Matt a hug?”
“No,” she said, with a pouty face.
Tony looked over. “She’s still mad you wouldn’t let her paint that wall.”
Matt grabbed his niece into a hug with one arm anyway, making her squeal.
“Don’t let that girl near paint,” Beth said.
The adults ate, drank, and watched football while the kids played upstairs and down. Matt’s mother still hadn’t said much. Maybe she was just busy. Or maybe she was disappointed with Matt’s choice.
Chapter 33
Thanksgiving lunch was followed by the serious business of the annual Thanksgiving football game in the backyard. As always, the score was tied at halftime since his mother was the referee. Matt, with Charlie and Gracie perched in his arms, passed Andrew on his way into the house.
“Hey, man,” Andrew said. “Hey, short stuff. You want a cookie?”
Gracie beamed at Andrew, then at Patrick and Tony all standing around the kitchen.
Matt set the kids down and grabbed their little coats, hanging on the kitchen chairs.
“Where’s J.T.?” Matt asked. “Our team needs a quarterback. A good one,” he added with a smirk at Tony.
“Whatever. You couldn’t catch a jar of honey if I put it right in your hands.”
Gracie looked up at Tony. “Why would you frow a jar of honey?”
“He wouldn’t,” Matt said, zipping her up with a grin. “Too heavy for him.”
Gracie ignored the banter and bit into her cookie. Matt laughed. He’d missed this, being with his brothers. “Okay, all done,” he said to the kids. “You need your gloves?”
“No,” and they were escaping out the back door, cookies in hand, before he could ask again.
“You know J.T.,” Patrick said. “Doing his usual escape and evade.”
Matt straightened. “Really. Well, I think I can win that game.”
“You sure you want to? That kid is too cool for his own good.”
Yeah, Matt thought as Patrick opened a beer and passed it to him. He was sure.
“At least he’s not still whining about a rematch,” Tony said, looking at Andrew, referring to the Pictionary battle the night before.
The one in which Matt and Abby had kicked everyone’s ass.
“How the hell Abby got Santa Claus out of that jagged half Christmas tree you drew is beyond me,” Patrick said. “I’ve been married six years and still don’t know what the hell Sarah’s thinking half the time.”
“Shit. I’ve been married ten years.”
“And the best you can draw is a stick man,” Matt said, smiling. “Maybe I’m just gifted with a pencil.” There was the smallest of pauses, four brothers thinking the same thing. Because there was one brother who really was gifted with a pencil and he was the only one not with them on this holiday. Then the moment passed, each of them knowing there was nothing they could do.
Tony eyed him. “Anyway, I don’t think it’s your drawing skills.”
No. It wasn’t.
“You’re fucking smitten,” Andrew said. “Look at him. You can see it in his eyes.”
Matt downed his beer. “You guys are worse than your wives.” Who along with his sister had already told him how lucky he was and warned him against being stupid.
Yep. And the grins on his brothers’ faces made it clear he wasn’t the only one smitten.
“You’re a lucky man,” Tony said. “Just don’t screw it up.”
“I don’t plan to.”
There was a scream from the backyard, followed by a chorus of whiny cries.
“Damn. That’s mine. Better go supervise.” Tony finished his beer and the guys headed out.
“Sounds like we’re raising another competitive generation.”
“Exactly how it should be.” Tony slapped Patrick on the back. “Minus the crying loser.”
“Fuck you.”
Matt laughed and veered off down the hall for a quick pit stop. He almost ran over Abby coming out of the bathroom as he was going in. Well, well, well. He’d just take advantage of this.