Page 122 of Running
But his eyes look the opposite of freaked out. More like…he’s curious?
“You want kids? A big family?” he asks.
I breathe out. This is an intense topic before eight in the morning. “I do.”
“Good to know.” The ends of his mouth tilt up slightly.
Suddenly Pam’s voice comes through, muted as if she’s standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Johnny? Grace? Do you want breakfast?”
The moment broken, Johnson turns back towards his door. “Yeah, we’ll be there in a second.”
I stand up, tea still in hand. “I'm going to go down now, if you are.”
He nods. “Yeah, and let’s talk to them about your idea later today, maybe when Leo is napping.” He gives me a kiss on my forehead and we head out the guest room door.
My heart starting to expand in ways I thought impossible only a few months ago.
CHAPTER 38
Johnson
Twenty-four hours later, the whole gang is packed up to head back to Florida.
When Grace shared her idea with me, it took only a heartbeat to see the sense of it. And when we explained it to Mom and Lainie, they came around fast too, Mom quicker than Lainie.
My sister worried that they would “cramp my lifestyle,” but Grace was quick to emphasize how the four-bedroom guest area was basically like a mini-apartment of its own.
“Besides, I promise you I don’t have a crazy lifestyle.” I explained. “The only two items on my agenda these days are football and chilling so I can recharge for the next game. And now, Grace and you guys. I’ve long had the party life out of my system.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Lainie said.
She also got nervous when she realized she’d have to tell Mark.
“Just say it’s a vacation,” Mom advised her. “Because that’s all it is for now.”
Mark’s only reaction to her text about the trip was “fine.” So with everything sorted, we ended up here, with the full crew coming to my place.
Once we’re back in Florida, Mom and Lainie spend Sundayand Monday getting everything set up at my house. My house—now thefamilyhouse.
“I’ll handle meals as much as you need,” Mom volunteers as she goes through my kitchen.
“We’ll trade off,” I reply. “I have all the recipes you gave me.”
“What does Grace like to eat?” she asks. “Is she over here a lot for dinner?”
That’s the thing, I want her to be? I don’t say that to my mom, but, yeah, after being spoiled this past week by Grace’s constant presence, I wish she was here even more than a couple of nights a week.
And seeing her bond with the other two women in my life is incredible. When she comes over on Tuesday after her classes, she even tells the story of her college track career to Mom, including how it ended.
While I start getting pissed off again listening to it a second time, Mom reacts with tears in her eyes.
“I’m coming to give you a hug, Grace.” The two embrace for a solid five minutes, and I see her whisper more in Grace’s ear.
Later that night, when we’re alone in my bed, I’m not surprised to find that Grace has more on her mind from that conversation.
“Your mom is so different from mine,” she says, rolling to her side to face me. “She’s so nurturing and kind. Actually listens.”
“She’s awesome,” I agree, bringing my hand up to brush tendrils off her face before stroking the length of her hair.
