“They think I’m that cute kid.”
“They know you work hard and that you’re smart and that you care about them.”
“Half the key to leadership,” Holt says. “People will do almost anything for people who care about them.”
Truer words…
I smile at him over her head.I’ll do anything for you.
He smiles back.Counting on it. Very soon.
And there go my nipples, getting hard while I’m supposed to be helping my sister process this unexpected news.
“What if—” she starts, but I cut her off.
“What if we realize the world has given you an advantage, and now you get to choose what to do with what you’ve been given? What if we find a way to make this the best possible thing that’s ever happened for the Pounders, from the staff to the players to the fans?”
She gapes at me. “Oh my god,pressure.”
“That’s the job,” Holt says.
“He said I can sell it if I want, but I don’t want.” She blows out a heavy breath. “I can do this.I can do this. Can’t I?”
“You can,” Holt says. “But can you maybe not carry on the tradition of Naked Tuesdays?”
She looks at him, then turns to me, and then she bursts out laughing.
“It wasn’t funny,” I say.
“It was a little funny,” Holt says.
“You forgot it was Tuesday?” Miranda gasps.
I sigh. “Been a little preoccupied with thinking we were never going to be a real family again.”
“Dad feels awful,” she tells us. “He’s not ready to admit it out loud yet, but he does. I could tell because Deedee didmost of the talking. I’d expect some very nice baby presents coming your way soon.”
“I’ve got the baby covered,” Holt says.
“You and the whole team. They’re totally throwing Ziggy a surprise baby shower next month. I already got my invitation.”
“Most loved baby ever.” He smiles.
Miranda smiles.
And I burst into tears.
Naturally.
It’s what I do these days.
But these are the good tears, and they come with me being wrapped in tight hugs from my sister and the man I love, the man who wants me, who wants my baby, who’s claimed us both as his own.
Miranda stays long enough to pick Holt’s entire brain about what she should look for in support staff who can teach her what she needs to know, who he knows in the league, what he’s learned from his time overseas, and how she can ask for Fletcher’s help without him being insufferable.
She leaves far less worked up than she arrived, but I have a text message waiting for me that has me in happy tears all over again.
“Mom says she and Dad want to have us over for lunch on Saturday to fully apologize for how they treated you,” I tell Holt through sniffles.
