Florence, on the other hand, adored Christmas and everything it stood for. It had only been her and her mother growing up and yet Edita had tried so hard to make the day special for her daughter. And Florence had kept going ever since. Now that she was surrounded by friends and people she considered family, she was even more into the holiday. Baking like crazy, decorating the flat under a cynical Freddie's nose, and spoiling the special people of her life simply because she could. She loved it, the fast-paced, hectic feel of the approaching holiday that reminded her of those days just before a match where it as non-stop press, appearances, and publicity. No wonder she took to Christmas where Freddie all but ignored it.
Of course, she had no idea the train of thought his mind had taken. When they'd had their last discussion regarding children, she'd let it go. As she always did. He was in no rush, and that...was okay. It wasn't fine. Not when she that biological time clock was ticking and she wasn't getting any younger. Not when she so desperately wanted her own little one to hold. Oh, Jo's girls were precious and Florence was grateful for all the time she got to spend with them. But it wasn't the same. As much as she'd loved Andy, as much as she cared for Percy and Hermione and Grace, they weren't hers. Andy was an adult by the time she'd found him again and she'd had little to do with raising him. And the others, they all had mothers, or in Grace's case, a father. And even if their parents weren't there, she would never try and step in and take their places.
But she refused to rush Freddie, or try and force him into it. All it would do is make him miserable, even resentful. That could be the tipping point that turned him to his own father, the man willing to walk away from his family. Not that she really believed he would be. She knew Freddie had the potential to be a good father, a great man. But he had to come to that on his own, with minimal pushing from her. So...she let it go. They'd agreed to talk about it again once the title was again his, and she was as all right with that as she was going to be.
So when he called to her, she had no idea he had anything in mind other than the play he'd been struggling with. She popped her head out and glanced towards the board, where he'd clearly conquered that ridiculous Fisher's play. "I had no doubts you would," she confirmed, coming over to look over his shoulder. Impulsively, she dropped a kiss on top of his head and then studied the squares. "Show me?"