Chicago (a Friday Night Lights fanfiction)

Grandma

Matt drove up in front of the familiar house. Coming home was always hard—for as much as he loved this house where he had been raised, where his grandma had done the best she could for him, it was so shabby now, and every time he came back it looked a little worse than it had before.

His dad's insurance paid for someone to live with his grandma and take care of her, and Matt was able to keep up with what happened in the house by talking to his grandma's caregiver and take care of some minor repairs, but it would take more than minor repairs to really make the house what he remembered of it from when he was little.

On his way through Dillon he had stopped to buy a tree, and now he untied it off the top of his car and pulled it down, lifting it as he carefully made his way up the front steps. The same wreath was on the door, the one he had bought for her with the money he'd made at the Alamo Freeze all those years ago.

He knocked on the door before unlocking it, opening it cautiously. "Hello?"

And there was his grandma, rocking in her chair like she'd done for so many years, and now Dillon felt like home.

Heather, his grandma's caregiver, was on the couch with a book. She had been expecting Matt—he'd called her in advance just to make sure his grandma was all right.

He smiled, happy to be here at Christmas. "Hey! it's me." He dragged the little tree in behind him as the screen door slammed with its familiar sound.

His grandma frowned at him. "Who is it?"

Every time he came back, every time he called, he was afraid this was the time she wasn't going to know who he was any more. But he smiled at her wider, sure that today wasn't that day. Not yet. "It's me, it's Matthew, Grandma."

"Matthew?" She sat forward in her chair.

"Matthew," he confirmed. "I got us ... "

"Is that really you?"

"It's really me. I got us a big Christmas tree."

"Is that really you?" she repeated, laughing in joy.

"It's really me."

"Heather!" she called to her caregiver as she got up from her chair.

"It's me," Matt repeated. "Give me a hug. How are you?"

His grandma shrieked with joy as she held him tight, calling his name over and over again. He always felt a little bad to see how happy she was to have him back—if only he could have stayed, and taken care of her. But there wasn't anything in Dillon for him but her, and the woman who had raised him wouldn't have wanted him to give up his future for her. So he would visit, and he would call, and he would send gifts, and he would make sure she was taken care of by people who were good to her ... and he would give her a granddaughter who loved her the way he did.

"Happy Christmas," he told her, holding on tight. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you surprised?"

"I'm so surprised!"

"Good."

"I didn't know you were coming home."

"Well, good."

"Did you tell your daddy you were home?"

He never knew quite how to handle those questions. Mostly he tried to ignore them and move on to talk about something else.

His grandma kept going this time. "Did you tell everybody?"

"No, you're the only person who knows."

"I'm the only one?"

"It's a surprise."

She took his face in her hands. "I'm surprised. And I'm happy."

"Me, too."

"Did you say it was Christmas?"

"Yeah, it's Christmas."

His grandma hugged his neck again, tight. "Merry, merry, merry Christmas."

Matt pressed his face into her shoulder, smelling the perfume she always wore, the familiar scent of her laundry detergent. All the love and caring he'd ever had in his life had come from this woman. He owed her everything he was. "I love you, Grandma."

"Oh, I love you, too."

"I love you."

"I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too."

The hug ended and his grandma sat back in her chair. "Do you need something to eat, do you want a sandwich?"

"No, I'm good for now. I ... There's something I want to tell you, Grandma."

"Is there?"

"Yeah." Matt knelt next to her chair. "You remember Julie? My girlfriend Julie Taylor?"

For a moment, she looked blank, then her face brightened. "Coach Taylor!"

"That's right. His daughter, Julie? You remember her, Grandma. You girls got along real well."

"Oh, we did, didn't we? Julie and her friend Tyra. They were here just the other day."

Matt wasn't sure if he should take that seriously or not. Julie was home, he knew that from a text she'd sent him, and it was possible Tyra was home, too. Or maybe his grandma was mixed up about time again. Either way, she remembered Julie, and that was what mattered.

"I want to ask Julie to marry me, Grandma. Is that okay?"

"Okay? That sweet little girl? Oh, Matthew, that's wonderful."

He smiled. "I think so, too. I hope so, anyway. Grandma?"

"Yes?"

"Can I—I'd really like to propose to Julie with your ring. The one you can't wear anymore." He remembered how she had cried when her fingers got too big for her ring, and how carefully she had put it away.

"Oh." His grandma's face was serious as she looked at him. "My ring?"

"Yeah. The one Grandpa proposed to you with. You guys were so happy, it has to be good luck."

"It was." The soft smile she always got when she thought of his grandpa spread across her face, and when she looked at him, Matt could see that her eyes were as clear and sharp and warm and sure as he'd seen them in a long time. "Oh, Matthew, you take that ring and you make that little girl happy, you hear me, now? You make her as happy as Joel made me."

"I will, Grandma. I will."