Page 27 of Wrapped Up in Christmas Hope
“Next thing you know he’ll be making curtains for the fire hall,” Ben mumbled to Cole as they walked away.
Andrew chuckled and sat back down at his sewing machine. After a few minutes, the door opening caught his eye and he glanced that way, expecting to see his friends coming back inside. Instead, Isabelle came in with Greyson holding her hand. The boy was chatting with her but didn’t look thrilled to be at a sewing event.
No doubt it wasn’t the most exciting place for a five-year-old kid.
Andrew finished up his stack, then stood. He rotated his shoulders and rolled his neck, which had gotten stiff from having sat in the same position for so long. Glancing around, he spotted Greyson again, now with his mother. Seeing him standing, she must have pointed him out as the boy looked his way, then smiled.
Andrew’s heart jerked at the realness of that big, happy smile. The boy ran over to him and without thought, Andrew knelt and hugged the kid.
“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Greyson told him, not hiding his surprise.
“You think I’d miss out on being a part of something so special? I’m smarter than I look,” he teased.
The kid’s nose crinkled. “Sewing is for girls.”
Andrew shook his head. “Not hardly, bud. It’s a necessary life skill.” Listen to him sounding like his grandma. “Plus, if you ever decided you wanted to be a smokejumper, you’d need to be able to sew.”
Greyson gave him a confused look.
“Smokejumpers sew their own parachutes, harnesses—you name it. They always make their own. Base camps are set up with rooms for sewing equipment.”
Greyson’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you sew?”
Andrew nodded. “My grandma started teaching me when I was about your age.”
Greyson regarded him thoughtfully. Then, a hopeful look in his eyes, he asked, “Will you teach me?”
Andrew felt something big. Gigantic. Colossal. It was incredible how humbled he felt at Greyson asking him to teach him to sew. It was as if he’d been granted some awesome privilege.
“As long as your mom is okay with it and you promise to listen closely. I don’t want to have to make an emergency room run because of Frankenstein fingers.” Andrew wiggled his fingers back and forth and made a funny face.
Giggling, Greyson imitated him. “I promise.”
Man, he really liked this kid. “Then let’s go ask your mom.”
Pride hit that he was hopefully going to teach Greyson a useful new skill while also opening the kid’s eyes to the fact that he shouldn’t be so quick to judge what was or wasn’t considered manly. Who would have ever thought he’d be the one steering a kid in, hopefully, the right direction of seeing beyond preconceived ideas to accept new life experiences?
He kind of liked the feeling. A lot.
“Greyson sure is infatuated,” Grammy pointed out as she helped press a seam. She’d relieved Rosie about five minutes earlier. Morgan wasn’t surprised by the direction the conversation had quickly taken. Everyone kept ‘casually’ mentioning Andrew in some shape, form, or fashion.
Not looking up from where she ran her iron over the material, Morgan nodded.
“Andrew’s good with him, getting down to talk with Greyson on his own level. And you can just see the patience on his face as he is working with him. I love it.” Grammy beamed, Cupid arrows and hearts flashing every which way in her eyes, as she swapped material under her iron. “Plus, he comes from a good family. Ruby and Charlie are the best. That’s a nice bonus.”
Privately, Morgan had to admit that all the same thoughts had run through her mind. Unbidden, unwanted, but still there. She turned toward her grandmother. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Grammy asked innocently, avoiding eye contact by placing her iron on the wool mat she’d sat on her end of the ironing board and checking the seam, as if something was off on how it lined up.
“Don’t match-make.”
“Pointing out that young man’s plusses isn’t match-making,” Grammy defended, not looking the least deterred. “Unless you object to me thinking he’s a good role model for your son, since that’s what I was talking about.”
Morgan gave her a yeah, right look. “Okay, but I don’t want you or your Butterfly friends getting any ideas. I’ve heard stories of how you ladies like to, um, nudge, relationships in the direction you want them to go.” Sarah and Sophie had both told Butterfly matchmaking tales. “I’m not interested or ready for a relationship.”
