Page 82 of Campus Crush
“What?” I whispered.
“He seems decent,” he muttered back.
I had to bite back a laugh. What a ringing endorsement. Seemed Gram would be easier to win over than my brother. Although I suspected that once they got talking about sports, Mason would love Foster.
Dinner was surprisingly comfortable. Gram asked Foster about hockey, his family, and his studies. I watched in amazement as he charmed her completely, helping serve the food and complimenting her cooking with genuine enthusiasm. As dinner progressed, my nerves about bringing a boy home had dissipated while my fears about Gram’s health had only increased.
“This lasagna is incredible, Daniella,” Foster said after his first bite. “I think it might be the best I’ve ever had.”
Gram waved him off, but her pleased smile was unmistakable. “Oh, it’s just a family recipe. Nothing special.”
“It is special,” I insisted. “Mom always said your lasagna could end wars.”
The mention of Mom brought a momentary silence to the table, but instead of the usual heaviness, it felt almost reverent. Foster’s hand found mine under the table and squeezed gently.
“So, Foster,” Mason said, breaking the silence, “you’re the captain of the hockey team? That’s a big responsibility.”
Foster nodded. “It is. But we’ve got a great team this year.”
“Do you plan to play professionally after college?” Gram asked.
Something flickered across Foster’s face—the same expression I’d seen when we discussed his future before. “No. It’s rare for a club hockey player to go pro. I just play because I love it. I’ll actually be taking over my father’s business when I graduate.” His expression soured—just for a second, like he’d swallowed lemon juice and was trying to hide his reaction.
“Is that what you want to do?”
“It’s what my dad wants.”
“And what doyouwant?” Gram asked, her gaze sharp despite her frail appearance.
Foster hesitated. “I’m not really sure. That option was never on the table.”
“That’s what your twenties are for,” she said with a smile. “To figure out who you are. Not just who you’re expected to be.”
After we finished eating, Gram shooed the boys out ofthe kitchen. “Mason, why don’t you and Foster go in the living room and get to know each other a little better? Abby can help me with the dishes.”
My grandma wasn’t old-fashioned and normally had Mason do dishes. So if she was keeping me behind instead, it meant she wanted to talk in private.
My nerves rose. This was the moment I’d been waiting for and dreading in equal measure.
Once the guys left, I started clearing the table. “Dinner was really nice, Gram.”
“He’s a good one,” she said, running water in the sink. “I can tell by the way he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me?” I asked, curious.
“Like you hung the moon and stars.” She smiled at me. “And you look happier than I’ve ever seen you.”
I felt my cheeks warm. “I am happy.”
It had been a long time since I’d been so genuinely happy, which only made the ominous dark cloud of whatever was going on with Gram even more noticeable.
We worked in companionable silence for a few minutes before I gathered my courage. “Gram, are you sure you’re feeling okay? You seem…different.”
Her hands stilled for a moment before she resumed scrubbing a dish. “I’m just getting older, sweetie. It happens to the best of us.”
“Mason’s worried about you. I am too.”
She kept her gaze fixed on the sink as she handed me a plate to dry. “Like I told you before, there’s nothing to worry about.”
