“My father’s father. He taught me how to steer a boat, how to line a fishing rod – he also taught all eight grandkids how to use our chest voices when heckling opposing outfielders. So we’d be loud enough to actually distract them.”
The sun bounced off Julian’s shades as he smiled, his hand on the wheel and his posture relaxed as the boat accelerated to knife through the shimmering blue water. It was a breathtaking sight.
“Your grandfather sounds like fun.”
“He was. He was also ‘that guy.’ Similar to your dad.” Julian glanced at me to catch my big smile. “Yeah, he was loud and happy and animated. He asked my grandmother on a date about two minutes after he first spotted her at the stadium, and when he took her out that night, he told her he was going to marry her, have three kids with her, and buy the Empires for her.”
“And he did?” I grinned. “I mean the three kids part.”
“Yes. That he got right. Same with the marriage part, obviously. He was a lower-middle class kid from Brooklyn, but he wound up making most of his money through property rentals, and he did try to buy the Empires twice before, but his bids were rejected.”
“Oh no. Was your grandma holding him to the whole thing about buying her the team?”
“Not at all. She teased him every day about how she didn’t believe he’d ever be able to do it, and that he was batting six sixty-seven on promises.”
“Lord. Such a baseball family,” I smirked. “They sound too cute. Is your dad also ‘that guy?’”
“No, my dad would be more like me.”
“Serious and scary?”
Julian laughed. “Yes, but less scary. A little nicer. No – a lot nicer.”
“Really? Tell me about him.”
“Well, he did inherit some of my grandfather’s romantic side. To the point that I grew up thinking all kids celebrated Mother’s Day with the same fanfare as Thanksgiving and Christmas. We used to spend the entire month before the day planning her surprise. We would get all her favorite foods, decorate the entire house with her favorite flowers.”
“Which were?”
“Ranunculus flowers,” Julian said, his perfect hair blowing slightly in the wind. “The name is misleading. They’re really beautiful.”
I exaggerated my surprise to tease him.
“Huh. Julian Hoult likes flowers?”
“Hard not to with the way I grew up. Every April of my life revolved around flowers,” he grinned. “Dahlias were also high on the list. Hydrangeas, too. Mom liked all the harder to find colors, so Emmett and I usually started ordering a month before Mother’s Day. Dad was in charge of planning and executing the menu for the night, and Emmett and I were on ordering and décor.”
“And by Emmett and you, you mean…”
“Just me,” Julian laughed, his eyes crinkling adorably behind his sunglasses. “There were these big, chocolate-covered strawberries that were Mom’s favorite, and timing that order so they stayed fresh would always cause Emmett to melt down. There was always a point where he got overwhelmed and meditated by coloring and making cards.”
“Oh, no! Poor Emmett.” I couldn’t stop grinning as we zipped fast now under the sun and through the water, my mind filled with images of baby Emmett having a total breakdown while baby Julian made calls and spreadsheets in preparation of the Hoult Family Mother’s Day. “So, is this where Julian Hoult’s famous organizing and planning skills originated?”
“Possibly. Though my father did start me on business classes around middle school. He said all my grandfather’s real estate was purchased on a whim, when property was cheap, so it was unreasonable to believe that his kind of success would just replicate or fall in our laps. We had to earn it.”
“Ah. Now I see how you and Dad are more alike,” I nodded, glancing behind us to see how far we’d gone. At this point, the marina was a sparkling white dot far, far away. “I take it Emmett’s more like Mom?”
“No, my mom is a good balance of fun and serious. Emmett would be more like my crazy grandfather. Not a surprise at all that he was always my grandparents’ favorite grandchild.”
“Really? It wasn’t you?”
“I was a close second,” Julian chuckled. “I was a bit fickle. I wasn’t easy to amuse at all, and that just kills the fun of playing with kids.”
I giggled at the image of Julian playing with children. Again, not something I’d imagine for him, but clearly, he was full of more surprises than I gave him credit for. Or he was just far more human than I could ever really fathom.
“So Emmett was the happy, smiley kid.”
“Shocking, right?” Julian said dryly despite his grin. “I’ll admit he was hilariously cute as a kid. Pretty much never stopped smiling – thought anything you said or did was fucking amazing. My grandpa used to bring him around the bleachers when Emmett was a toddler, and he’d just introduce him to complete strangers. He just thought there was no chance someone at an Empires game would prefer to actually watch the game than meet this ‘fine young gentleman.’”