Her Best Christmas Ever. Judy Duarte

been here?

      He’d been wonderful, both during the birth and afterward. In fact, he was always popping in to check on her and the baby.

      “Hey.” His voice sounded from the doorway again. “Oops. Sorry.”

      She glanced up, realizing he’d spotted her nursing. A flush on his cheeks let her know that he was either uneasy or embarrassed.

      “It’s all right.” She offered him a smile. “After what we’ve been through together, I don’t think either of us should feel uncomfortable.”

      “I guess you’re right.” His eyes zoomed in on Amanda.

      Or was he noting the fullness of Connie’s breast?

      Oh, for heaven’s sake. There wasn’t anything sexual about nursing a baby. And the fact that Connie had even let her thoughts stray in that direction was crazy.

      “Look at her chow down,” Greg said.

      Connie gazed at her daughter, saw her tiny jaws working to draw the colostrum into her mouth.

      Greg was right. Amanda had certainly gotten the hang of nursing.

      “By the way,” he said. “I’ve got Thanksgiving dinner all figured out.”

      “How did you do that? Did you ask Sabrina or Tori for help?” She figured he might have when he called to tell them about the baby.

      “I’m sure they would have. But the roads are a mess in certain areas, so Jared and Sabrina are playing it by ear. And I just talked to Matt an hour ago. He and Tori are at the airport, but their flight has been delayed due to weather.”

      “What about Granny?”Connie asked. “Is she coming home?”

      “No, she and Hilda are going to have dinner at the hotel this evening. But I hope they’ll all be able to make it home tomorrow. And when they do, I’ll have turkey and all the fixings in the oven.”

      “You know how to bake a turkey?” she asked, suddenly feeling even more incompetent than she had while watching her mother buzz around the set of a mock kitchen, her makeup cover-model perfect and every hair in place.

      “No, I have a better idea than that. Caroline, down at the diner, is going to whip up a feast for us whenever we need it.”

      Connie smiled. At least he had the meal covered. And if truth be told, Caroline was going to do a much better job of it than Connie ever could have. After all, it was obvious that she hadn’t been blessed with the Martha Stewart/Julia Child genes.

      Or rather, the Dinah Rawlings genes.

      “So,” Greg said, “we’ll just have our own private Thanksgiving dinner tonight.”

      “That sounds good. What’s on the menu?”

      “Mac and cheese.” He grinned. “I found a box in the pantry. I hope you’re okay with that.”

      When Joey, Sabrina’s young nephew, was living here, Granny had gone out and purchased a bunch of stuff that a kid would like. There was peanut butter and jelly, too.

      If truth be told, Connie wasn’t a fan of processed foods, but she wouldn’t admit it. The fact that Greg was trying so hard to take care of her took precedence over a dish she’d never really liked.

      “I’m not big on vegetables,” Greg said. “Would canned green beans be okay to go with that?”

      “Sure.”

      She expected him to turn and walk away, yet instead he continued to lean against the doorjamb, to watch her nurse the baby.

      For some reason, it seemed as though he’d earned the right, so she didn’t let it bother her.

      “You know,” Connie said, her heart going soft and warm, “you’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty for a guy who came home for a much-needed vacation.”

      He shrugged. “This hasn’t been the start of the holiday I’d been expecting, but I’m glad I was here two nights ago. It wouldn’t have been good for you to go through that alone.”

      He was right about that. She didn’t even want to think about how much more scared she would have been.

      “It’s amazing,” Greg said, his eyes still on the baby. “I can’t believe she was inside of you two days ago. Now look at her.”

      Connie studied her daughter, still unable to believe she was now a mother.