Walking further into the living room, my nerves are hitting me, and I’m on the hunt for any sight of Hudson Arrows.
“There you are. I was getting worried.” Right on cue, he walks into the living room with two glasses of sangriain his hand and an apron that says theOy vey, it’s Santa’s day. His sight lands on me, and my presence seems to throw him off balance. “Coach Tate, I had no idea you were joining us. Welcome.”
His festive-cheer bubble is about to break.
Gracie intervenes. “He’s here. Now where is that hug?” She opens her arms and heads straight for her dad.
“There’s my princess. I’ve made the roast chicken with rosemary that you like. Did latkes on the side because your mother’s grandma will haunt me in my dreams tonight if I don’t cook her recipe.”
Piper’s humorous glare is shot his way. “Cute. Why don’t we all sit down.”
“Sure. Let me grab some more glasses of sangria,” he suggests.
“No!” Gracie is a little overzealous with her interruption. “I mean, I just don’t feel like sangria for now. Let’s just have a seat. Oh, great, snacks.” She motions to the coffee table and already beelines to it.
“Uh, thanks for having me.” That’s my only line right now.
We all join Gracie who is now stuffing her mouth with crackers, and I’m not sure if it’s due to nausea or simply avoidance.
Hudson hands Piper a drink, and she sits on the armrest of the sofa. “The more the merrier. My son and the grandkids only come tomorrow for brunch.”
We all sit for a few seconds as her parents sip a drink, and Gracie grabs more crackers. It only draws attention from her father.
“Go easy there. Are you hungry? I can probably speed up the bird.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder.
“Probably just a little carsick,” I lie.
Piper places her hand on Hudson’s leg, and she gawks her eyes at Gracie and me. Her sign that there shall be no stalling.
“Oh, wait…” His eyes swims between his daughter and me. “Why did you two show up together? Actually, Asher, why are you here?” The man is now purely baffled.
“Storytime,” Gracie says, muffled through her cracker chewing, as our announcement entry point.
Suddenly, Hudson’s face hardens as he does his best to understand.
“Gracie is pregnant,” I burst out. This time I get the point for letting words flow out of my mouth without thought.
One tick. Two ticks. Three. Because he just knows that we are not playing a game.
“Marry her,” he firmly states.
Piper’s head falls into her hand as though she was expecting this.
“Are you kidding me?” Gracie nearly shouts.
I touch her thigh to calm her. “I’m sorry, it just came out,” I explain to her.
“Not you,” she clarifies. “My brother actually won the bet that it was three seconds before my dad went all traditional on me.”
Hudson stands, clearly agitated. “You.” He points his finger at me.
I stand, ready to be the man who directs a team. No fear of opinions. “I need you to relax. We’re having a baby and that’s that. Gracie is healthy, and we’re happy about this.”
“A Chrismukkah gift.” Piper pulls on Hudson’s arm to rein him in.
He looks back at his wife. “No. A proper gift would be my daughter first introducing us to her older beau and then one day he will ask me for her hand in marriage then have a wedding. Then somewhere between the Easter egghunt and downing ridiculously sweet grape wine at the Seder, they would surprise us with a little onesie in a wrapped box.”
Gracie throws her arms into the air. “Well, it’s not like that. Deal with it.”
