Page 49 of Wrapped Up in Christmas Hope
“That I can only touch what he says I can touch.”
“That’s a good rule.” But Morgan still wanted to say no.
Andrew walked into the kitchen. His eyes immediately sought hers.
She frowned. “Already tempting my son over to the wild side, I hear.”
“I won’t be wild, Mommy,” Greyson promised.
Greyson’s assurance plagued her conscience. She didn’t want him on a motorcycle. She wanted to keep him safe and didn’t that mean saying no to some things that he wanted if she felt the risks were too high? But she also didn’t want to let her hang-ups hamper his life and what would it hurt to let him sit on the bike so long as it wasn’t running?
“I’ll stay right with him, Morgan,” Andrew assured her. “What could happen?”
A few dozen possibilities raced through her mind, but she kept them to herself as she worried she was quickly becoming a fuddy-duddy in her child’s eyes. How did a good parent balance keeping their child safe and allowing them to spread their wings? This parenting thing wasn’t easy.
“The engine will be off the entire time?”
Andrew nodded and Greyson let out a disappointed grunt.
She knelt to her son’s level. “Do everything Andrew tells you, okay?”
Greyson nodded and took off toward the door, probably for fear she’d change her mind if he stuck around. Just as he reached the door, he paused, turned to her and grinned. “Thanks, Mommy.”
Her heart melted. Reality was, she had to loosen her reins. She’d boxed him in too much and that had played into his isolation. She had to let him be a kid, even if it put all her Momma worries on high alert.
Rising, her gaze met Andrew’s and she wondered what he was still doing there when her son had taken off.
“If you promised to follow the rules, you can have a turn on Big Bertha, too,” he offered.
Morgan snorted. “As tempting as that is, I’ll pass.”
He chuckled. “Are you are going to come outside to watch while Greyson sits on the bike?”
She started to say no as she wasn’t sure she could watch without getting worried and maybe overreacting, but the twitching of his lips had her reconsidering. She was not a fuddy-duddy. She was positive and happy. “Yes. I’ll grab my jacket.”
Motorcycles were dangerous. Now, being close to the bike, opposite of the side Andrew stood on, Morgan felt daunted by the motorcycle he called by name.
Greyson clearly didn’t, though. He looked ecstatic as he straddled the bike and asked Andrew question after question about how it worked. Watching his delighted expressions was like a flashback to Trey.
Morgan’s stomach twisted tighter.
Andrew answered each of Greyson’s question with patience and genuine enthusiasm, seeming to enjoy showing off his bike.
“When I grow up, I’m going to be a firefighter and have a Big Bertha,” Greyson announced.
He’s only five, Morgan reminded herself. Lots of time to reconsider major life decisions.
Andrew scratched his head. “That’s all right if that’s what you want, but when you get your own bike, I imagine you’ll want to pick your own name.”
Moving his hands in a revving the engine motion over the handlebars, Greyson made some vroom noises, then said, “I’ll name mine Andrew after you.”
Surprise flashed across Andrew’s face, and then he grinned. “Hey, I like that. Never had anyone name their motorcycle after me.”
“I might call it Andy for short.”
Andrew tugged on Greyson’s hat. “Just so long as you don’t call me Andy for short.”
“What’s wrong with Andy?” Morgan asked.
