Chapter 12: Nathan’s Place in the Family
For a moment, I couldn’t answer.
Nathan held his mug in both hands, looking at me as if the next few words might change something he couldn’t see. The adults had made enough decisions around him already. I wouldn’t make him carry one more.
I set my hand gently on the arm of the sofa, close enough for him to know I was there without making him meet my eyes.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m still your grandma. I will always be your grandma.”
His shoulders loosened, though only a little.
“Even if we have to leave?”
“Even if you have to leave tonight.”
He stared into his hot chocolate. I could hear the quiet murmur of Daniel and Natalie comparing places to stay, and a phone tapping against someone’s palm. None of that belonged to Nathan.
“Leaving my house tonight is an adult decision,” I said. “It doesn’t change how much I love you.”
“Dad said we were going to stay here.”
“I know.”
“Did he get it wrong?”
I took a breath. I wanted to be honest without turning Daniel’s mistake into Nathan’s burden.
“Your dad should have asked me before he told you that. He didn’t, and that wasn’t fair to you. But you didn’t do anything wrong by believing him.”
Nathan nodded once. He was trying to fit the answer somewhere inside himself.
“I’m sorry it got confusing,” I added. “The grown-ups should have talked to each other directly.”
He glanced toward his father, then back at me.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“Not even a little.”
I smiled, and this time he looked up. His face was still solemn, but I saw some of the worry ease from it.
“You can love your family and still say no to a plan,” I told him. “That’s what I’m doing tonight. I’m saying no to everyone staying here because I wasn’t asked, and because I already said they needed to leave. That is not the same as saying no to you.”
“Could I come back?”
The question came out so quietly that I almost missed it.
“Yes,” I said. “I’d like that. After Christmas, you and your parents can ask me about a short visit. We’ll choose a day that works for everyone.”
“Could I sleep over?”
“Not this time. I’m only offering a visit, not an overnight stay.”
He considered that, then nodded. It was a small answer, but it was enough. I didn’t need him to pretend he wasn’t disappointed, and he didn’t need to persuade me that my limit was reasonable.
I looked toward Daniel. He had stopped scrolling.
“Dad,” Nathan said, turning to him, “Grandma says you can ask her about a visit after Christmas.”
Daniel lowered his phone.
“That’s right,” I said. “Your dad can ask me directly. You don’t have to remind me or make a case for it.”
“I won’t,” Daniel said. He set his phone down. “I shouldn’t have told you we were staying before I asked her. I won’t put you in the middle again.”
Nathan looked from his father to me, checking that the promise had landed where it belonged.
“Good,” I said.
Daniel didn’t add anything. He didn’t ask me to reassure him or turn the moment into another apology. I appreciated that.
Nathan’s gaze dropped to the small wrapped box beside him. It had been tucked among the presents they’d brought. He picked it up carefully, turning it once in his hands.
“Can I still give you this?”
“Of course you can.”
He stood and crossed the short distance between us. I opened my arms, and he leaned into me for a brief, warm hug. Then he put the box in my hands.
“You don’t have to give me anything to make me love you,” I said.
“I know,” he replied. “I wanted to.”
“That makes it even better.”
The paper was creased where his fingers had gripped it. He had wrapped it himself, I guessed, though I didn’t ask. I ran my thumb beneath the tape and opened it slowly, careful not to tear the paper more than necessary.
Inside was a small ornament wrapped in tissue.
A wooden cardinal.
I stopped breathing for a beat.
The paint was worn at the tail, and a fine crack ran along one wing. I knew that little bird. Robert had hung it on our Christmas tree every year, always near the front where he could see it from his chair. After he died, I’d kept the ornament with the others. I’d thought it was still packed away with the Christmas things I hadn’t brought to the mountain house.
Nathan watched my face.
“Mom found it in the box with the ornaments,” he said. “She said I could give you this one.”
I turned the cardinal over in my palm. The wood was smooth from years of handling. For an instant, I could see Robert’s hand reaching up to place it on a branch, as if the memory had been waiting there, quiet and close, for me to find it.
I blinked and looked back at Nathan.
“Thank you,” I said. My voice came out softer than I expected. “I love it.”
“I thought you might.”
I held the ornament against my chest, feeling its familiar weight. Across the room, nobody spoke. It wasn’t a cure for the years of missed invitations or the choices that had brought us to my living room that night. It didn’t change my answer about the house.
May you like
But Nathan had offered me something with no demand attached. I could accept it without surrendering the boundary that still mattered.
The cardinal rested in my open hand, its red paint catching the light from the tree. I looked at the little bird and knew exactly where I wanted it to go.
