A/N: This will be my last chapter for a while, until I regroup and decide where else to go with this story. However, I feel like this is a good stopping point for now. I'll regroup and hope to return with more to this story sometime in the new year. In the meantime, enjoy this "last chapter for now" chapter, and please comment!
[*]
"So," Nate said as Coach Taylor sat back on the couch, "I don't understand why the quarterback does it like that." He pointed to the screen. "You know when he - "
"- Well, Matt could explain it to you," Coach Taylor interrupted, glancing at his son-in-law. "You know Matty was an excellent quarterback."
Matt smiled slightly. "Well, I was pretty mediocre, you know I just…had a good coach."
"Oh, no, see," Coach Taylor pointed to Matt, "this guy here had the most important thing you need in a quarterback, which is not skill. Skill's important, but what you really need is heart. And he had heart. Still does, but he puts that in his art now." He turned to Nate. "You saw that painting in my office at Pemberton, didn't you?" Nate nodded. "Fantastic, wasn't it? See, the thing about Matt is that he has the rare ability to combine…"
[*]
Tami had just brought the potatoes to a boil when Julie came back into the kitchen. "Dad really listens to you," she said.
"Sometimes."
"I don't think Matt listens to me like that. If I told him he should do something, sometimes I think he'd intentionally do the opposite."
"Well, men are like that sometimes," Tami said, wiping her hands on a towel. "They don't like to be told what to do. But your dad and I have been married a long time now. I know when I need to be direct with him, and when I need to…" she smiled, "lead him a little more subtly." She straightened the towel. "And this was one of those direct times."
Julie slid her hands into the back pocket of her jeans. "How long does it take to learn all that?"
"Oh…only about fifteen years."
[*]
After dinner, Eric asked Matt to come outside and toss the football for a bit in the backyard. Their hands got cold quickly, and Matt muttered they should go in, but that wasn't really why Eric had asked the boy outside in the first place. He put a staying hand on Matt's shoulder, and the young man paused with his foot on the first step leading up to the back porch. "Let's light the fire pit," Eric said. "Warm up our hands before we go in."
Matt looked reluctant, but he stepped down and back to the yard.
They turned the chairs to the pit, and held their hands over the fire. "You haven't lost it," Eric said. "I can't catch like that anymore."
Matt grinned. "You're a bit older than me."
"Yeah." Eric swiveled his arm as though stretching his shoulder. "Throwing makes me hurt after a while. I'm going to have to take a handful of asprin tonight. Not sure how these 70 year old guys keep coaching."
"They don't run up and down the sidelines like you do. And they don't get in there. You'll be able to do it at 70," Matt assured him.
"I sure hope so. Hope to move up to the number two position at Temple by the time I'm 55." He'd told the entire family at dinner about his offer. "Then maybe head coach at some college by the time I'm 65."
"You ever plan to retire?"
"Sure. At 85," he said, and Matt chuckled. "How is your art career coming along?" Eric only meant to show interest in Matt's career, but the kid frowned.
"Not as well as your football career, let's just say. I hardly sell anything," Matt admitted. "Nate thinks I should just paint portraits to make money."
"Well, Nate has a financial brain. He's good at what he does, and he's probably right about that money part. But you're good at what you do. You know that, and you should do what you feel is best when it comes to your art. None of us have any idea about that sort of stuff the way you do."
"Nate seemed to think he had an idea."
"You don't like Nate much, do you?" Eric asked, pulling his hands back from the fire and sliding them into his winter jacket.
"I like Nate fine," Matt said. "He's fine. He's a nice guy."
"It's just a little bit strange to you, I guess, him coming into the family like this."
Matt shrugged. "Never guessed you had a son, of course."
Eric didn't know quite how to say the next thing. So he fell silent for a while. "I've had a son for a long time," he said at last, quietly.
"Yeah. You just didn't know he existed."
"That's not what I meant, Matt. I've had son for, oh, eight or nine years. You. You've been like a son to me ever since you started dating Julie. Maybe before. And you became more like one over time."
Matt shifted in his chair and looked at the ground.
"And I'm proud to have you as my son-in-law. If I could have handpicked a guy to marry my daughter…well, I think it would have been you."
Matt snorted. "The guy you had to take home drunk from the hospital and throw in the shower? The guy who left her for art school? That's the guy you would have handpicked?"
"No, not that guy. But the guy who proved he was responsible and that he had family feeling by taking care of his grandmother, even when it cost him his own plans to do it. The guy who loved my girl enough and was humble enough to give her a second chance even after she tossed him aside. The guy who was honorable enough that he never pressured my daughter for sex, but encouraged her to move at her own pace."
Matt flushed red.
"Yeah, I know about that," Eric said. He had hated finding the two of them together, but at least he knew Julie got there on her own timeline.
Matt crossed his leg over his knee and didn't look at his father-in-law.
"You're a good man, Matt. You've made some mistakes in your life, but haven't we all? Mine have been a lot worse than yours. But I tried to make amends."
"Seems you did," Matt said quietly.
"Yeah, I guess so." He jerked his head back to the house. "Think my wife's got that hot, mulled wine ready?"
"Let's go see."
As he followed his son-in-law up the stairs, Eric felt a merriness warm his heart. When he'd moved to Pennsylvania, he'd done so dutifully, for the love of his wife and to support her in her dream. He'd never expected to discover a son, to be handed a prestigious job at Temple University, or to grow closer to his entire family. The road to this Merry Christmas had not been an easy one, but nothing good in life came without effort.
He let his hand fall on Matt's shoulder when they reached the screen door. "Merry Christmas, son," he said, and Matt grinned.
