Chapter 59: I’ll Be Waiting

Niall hung the last ornament on the Christmas tree--the star at the very top.

As he did, Rebecca’s wrinkly palms pat each other softly in what Niall could only assume was her rendition of a gleeful clap.

Hence, it only made perfect sense that he found himself chuckling in amusement as he got down from the ladder.

"Thank you, Niall," the old lady said, her accent strong and her cadence a sweet spot between slow yet pleasantly warm.

"You, my fair lady, are most welcome," he lowered to a crouch, his eyes crinkling with warmth as the old lady let out a most amused giggle, her cheeks ruddy.

"Nana, the grape pie’s almost ready! Don’t doze off just yet, okay?!" Camille called out from the kitchen.

"Okay, muffin," the elderly woman replied, her voice barely loud enough for even Niall himself whom was nearby to hear.

Still,

’Muffin?’ he inwardly remarked in amusement.

That was a new one.

Given he’d believed he’d heard all the terms of endearment Rebecca often referred to her granddaughter as these past two months, it seemed there was many yet to uncover still.

More than that though, Camille’s words hadn’t come unwarranted. Afterall, Rebecca hardly did much of anything these past few months asides sleeping, one Niall himself could testify to.

In fact, he figured she just might’ve done the same this Christmas Eve had he not been feeding a bit of his Gift of Vitality into her through his Gift of Bestowal.

But even then, considering he’d never actually met his own grandparents as they’d died before he was birthed, Niall wondered if this was what it would’ve been like to have met them.

In any case, it didn’t take long before Claire walked out of the kitchen with some chicken broth in a little bowl, her smile warm as she set it down on the small stool next to the elderly woman.

"Careful, Becca," she said gently and then added for good measure;

"It’s a bit hot."

"Thank you, Claire," the old woman replied with a warm smile.

Then, after watching her leave a few seconds after, she leaned forward slightly and whispered to Niall, a hint of what he could only assume was loving exasperation in her tone;

"Oh, they all won’t stop treating me like a kid,"

"I know I’m old, but I can at least still form coherent sentences, can’t I?" she quietly asked of Niall who couldn’t help but chuckle again.

"That you can," he honestly replied to which the old lady gently pinched his cheeks in an act of endearment;

"You’re such a good listener,"

In response, Niall simply allowed the old lady be, his smile only growing warmer by the minute.

As Camille had been previously worried she wouldn’t be chanced to spend the Christmas Eve with her nana due to her scheduled sessions, she’d asked of the Parkers if they’d be willing to do it in her stead.

Luckily for her, she’d been responding to her treatments so well, her oncologist figured she could hold off till the end of New Year’s before she went for her resectioning.

As that was happening though, Clark came down the stairs with his toolbox in hand and said;

"The leaky pipe in Becca’s bathroom has been fixed."

"Anything else you might want checked?" he asked of Camille who remarked audibly from the kitchen in response;

"Yes, Mr. Parker. There’s a faulty faucet here in the kitchen, if you won’t mind."

"Roger that," Clark moved towards the next station like the handyman he was, quietly whistling to himself as he did.

"Need any help, Pa?" Niall asked of him as he walked past them to reach the kitchen.

"Thanks, son. But I’ve got this." the middle-aged man wholeheartedly smiled as he kept whistling his way over.

A few minutes later after he disappeared into the kitchen, Camille walked out with the grape pie and set it on the dining table which was already populated with other meals.

Then, turning over to face her nana whom had surprisingly drunk all of the broth, she said with a light smile;

"Alright, Nana. Let’s get you over to the table."

Already expecting her usual quips and retorts about how she babied her too much, Becca hit the lady with a whiplash instead.

"When are you getting married to Niall?" she innocently asked, her granddaughter’s face going beet-red in an instant.

"Nana!" she exclaimed, her eyes flicking over to Niall who looked markedly amused than bothered by the sudden question.

"He’s right there?!" she pointedly stared at her grandmother to take a hint.

Seemingly confused by her granddaughter’s reaction, Rebecca turned to Niall and asked softly;

"Does it bother you, darling?"

"Not at all," Niall’s reply came in such a relaxed tone, Camille’s face couldn’t help but flush deeper.

"So, what’s the problem?" Becca turned to face her granddaughter, to which she then asked;

"Not handsome enough for ya?"

"No, of course not!" the lady suddenly found herself on the hot seat.

"Not your type?" she curiously queried.

"He’s exactly my type--wait!" she rushed to stop herself.

"Not sweet enough for ya?" she asked yet another question, her expression genuinely curious.

"He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met, I’ll have you know." she strongly defended this time, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Well, if that’s the case, I’d like to see my great grandkids before I kick the bucket, thank you very much." Becca said, too old to care about the typical social niceties.

This time, Camille’s lips quirked, her caribbean-blue irises finding Niall’s cool-gray which was glinting with mischief. Clearly, he was enjoying seeing her flustered.

"Now that’s a reaction I don’t see very often..." he remarked, a light grin surfacing on his lips.

"Don’t get used to it, cowboy." she leaned over to stare at him from above, her hands on her hips and her eyes reflecting her delight despite herself.

Becca on the other hand, reached over to Niall and gently patted his arm as she said;

"You have my blessing, dear."

Not willing to miss the opportunity to see Camille go ripe like a tomato again, Niall nodded in kind, his voice warm;

"Thank you, Becca. I’ll take extremely good care of her."

Once again, the young lady found herself utterly flustered.

It also didn’t help that Claire proceeded to fuel it by asking, her cornflower-blue irises glinting in mischief as she carried the rotisserie chicken into the room;

"So, when can we look forward to the wedding?"

Massaging her head, her smile a blend of flustered and amused, Camille audibly muttered;

"I can’t win with any of you today, can I?"

That earned a light chuckle from not just Niall, Rebecca and his mother, but also his father who casually walked out of the kitchen.

Then he gave Camille, a thumbs up, implying that he was done fixing the faucet.

Following that, all five soon settled at the dining table and dined in shared warmth, a homely feeling encompassing them all.

By the time they were done, it was already quite late into the night. As a result, Camille offered the trio to stay the night at their place.

Afterall, they had two comfortable guest rooms that were spacious, well-ventilated and well-maintained by their caretaker.

Seeing no reason to refuse, the family opted to do just that.

Currently leaning on the wooden front porch though, the ethereal moon reflected in his cool-gray irises, Niall fiddled with the iPod in his hands, one of its buds plugged into his ears.

[Hello, Goodbye] was shaping up to be a great song. That much, Niall could tell.

Afterall, he’d assessed the song with his Gift of Discernment and it had come back as a solid golden hue with striking veins of platinum.

Yet, despite having gotten the song’s lyrics down perfectly, and even the overall melody he wanted, he couldn’t help but feel that it lacked a certain polish that could truly elevate it to new heights.

Polish he currently couldn’t provide on his own even despite his experience sampling and making tracks using his DAW.

Or maybe his standards had just gotten higher given the phenomenal, after phenomenal performances he’d delivered on [Silver Comets]. Niall couldn’t really say.

What he was most certain of, though, was that he needed the trained ears of people whom were more experienced than him to aid him in elevating the song to the best possible version it could be.

Thankfully, he did have those people.

Just then, the porch door creaked open behind him.

Through it, Camille stepped outside, dressed in a flowing white gown that swayed gently around her knees in the late night’s winter breeze.

Without a word, she slipped her arms around his waist from behind and rested her head against his back.

As for Niall, his expression softened as he laid a gentle hand over hers before speaking;

"I’ll have to head to New York early next month,"

"Might stay there a while. Two to three weeks, give or take,"

"But, I’ll make sure I’m back before your next chemo session. I promise." he assured the lady with a faint smile as his thumb absentmindedly brushed over her fingers.

To that, Camille gave a gentle nod against his back, an expression of unwavering belief on her features as her response came just as softly and without doubt;

"I’ll be waiting, cowboy."

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/Caer07