Page 3 of A Very Fumbling Merry Christmas

As everyone begins to fill their plates, I sit back and take it all in for a moment. My brother and his wife are talking baby names with my parents. Coop is making Grams blush by meeting her shameless flirting with charm and wit. When I look to Hunter, he’s staring right back at me.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, yourself.” The intensity of his gaze makes my stomach somersault.

“Everyone is enjoying themselves. You did amazing.” I reach over and grab his hand, pulling him in for a kiss. The scent of his cologne washes over me, and I lose myself for a moment, holding our kiss a beat longer than I should.

When I pull back, my dad is shaking his head at our PDA. I’m not getting into it with him—not today. My Grams has other ideas.

“You really need to get that stick out of your ass, son.” The table goes silent as everyone turns to Grams.

“Excuse me?” My dad looks pissed.

“You heard me just fine. You should be happy your daughter found such an upstanding, successful man. Instead, you look like you swallowed a wasp.”

“I just think the dinner table isn’t the place for making out.” Even my mom rolls her eyes at that pathetic attempt to hide his disdain.

“Oh, hush up. You’ve always been a prude. I don’t know where you get it from. Your father and I have always been so adventurous in the bedroom. Heck, you were conceived in a public restroom off Route 66.”

You hear about the color draining from someone’s face, but this is the first time I’ve actually witnessed it. I’m guessing this is new information. My dad looks positively disgusted.

“Stop it, Mother. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Me? I’m not the one getting bent out of shape over a peck on the lips and a few years of an age difference.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Can we just get back to eating?”

“No. We can’t. I want to make a toast.” My dad watches in abject horror, waiting for Grams to mortify him further. “To Faith and Hunter. Thank you for inviting us to share this delicious Thanksgiving meal with you. Young love should be celebrated, and I, for one, am thankful that you found each other. It has been a joy to see Faithy blossom this year. So, let’s all raise a glass to Faith and Hunter. You kids have a lifetime of happy memories, exciting adventures ahead. Be kind to each other, compromise, and never go to bed on an argument.”

Everyone raises their glasses, and my dad seems to have been put firmly in his place. Grams can still stare him down when she wants to. Coop decides to take her lead and raises a glass for the things he’s grateful for this year. Everyone else follows suit, and when it gets to Hunter, he raises his glass, gesturing toward me.

“To my beautiful Faith. I always thought the NFL would be the highlight of my life. When I busted my knee, I thought my best days were behind me. I thought I’d never replace the elation of being on the field with thousands of fans cheering my name. I thought it was all downhill the day my playing career ended. How wrong I was.

“The day you stood in front of our friends and family and vowed to be my wife… that was the single greatest moment of my life thus far. This is the first year I have felt truly thankful for the twists and turns my life has taken this year. You came stumbling into my life, literally, and changed my world. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed. I love you and feel so blessed to be your husband. Thank you for choosing me.”

Tears well in my eyes as I take his words to heart. He floors me with his eloquence and that sexy grin of his. Everyone seems moved by his toast, and just when I think we’re out of the woods, I hear my Grams lean into Grandpa and say, “That was a good speech. He’s getting lucky tonight.”

Coop and Zee burst out laughing, defusing the situation, and just like that, we’ve survived our first Thanksgiving. And my Grams wasn’t wrong—after that toast, Hunter is definitely getting lucky tonight. He’ll be stuffing my turkey good and hard!

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