“Guys, I think we need to talk about Jack’s girlfriend.”

“I thought we agreed to never mention it and to ignore it. That it was best for everyone.”

“Yes, but time is passing, and I really think he’s going to introduce her to us.”

“It’s not like he will have a lot of time to be able to do so.”

Thirdy threw his water bottle to Snowy’s face. How rude was this animal, really? There are things you shouldn’t say!

But, yes. They needed to regroup and to talk about Jack’s girlfriend, to be sure to not slip up when they’ll meet her. If they have the time to meet her.

The guys -Snowy, Tater, Guy and Poots- were all in Thirdy’s and Marty’s room, that had the big advantage to be at the opposite side of Jack and Tater’s in the hotel. It’s not like Jack would even notice, anyway; he went to bed as soon as the bus dropped them off, but when Tater went out of the shower and was still in the bathroom, he managed to hear that Jack was on the phone, shushing sweet nothings and “I love you”’s and “I can’t wait to tell the guys about you.”’s. Tater waited a few minutes, to hear Jack say “Yeah, now go to bed, I’m keeping you up far too late. Love you.” before he went out of the bathroom. Jack was pretending to sleep, so Tater took his own phone and went out of their room, to summon the Guys to the other caps room.

That was one hell of a way to begin their roadtrip to the West Coast.

So yeah. Jack’s girlfriend.

Marty had written a List.

Aaaand that was the whole problem.

Jack Zimmermann was going out with a granny. A visibly very sweet, very endearing, very motherly granny, but a granny nonetheless.

No wonder he didn’t want anyone to know.

It had been a while that the guys had noticed and reached this conclusion, but now, if Jack wanted them to meet her… They couldn’t keep ignoring it.

They had to be prepared, to be as supportive as possible when Jack will decide to introduce them his girlfriend. Considering how old she probably was, they wouldn’t have much time to go back in her good graces if they messed up the first meeting.

“We can’t go to Jack and tell him, ‘Jack, we know you’re tapping a grandma, and we would still be honoured to meet her’,” Thirdy said.

“We can do exactly that,” Snowy shrugged. “No need to beat around the bush.”

“No, we need to let him come to us when he deems it good. If you suspected a teammate could be gay, you wouldn’t force a coming-out out of him before he’s ready, would you now?” Marty said. “What we can do is to provide him a safe environment so that when he’s ready, he’ll come to us.”

“Yeah, and how we do that?” Tater asked.

“We carry on as we’ve done the past weeks. We keep complimenting the pies she makes. The flowers she puts all around his apartment. We keep showing him we’re not gerontophobic. It must be hard enough as a relationship as it is; she visibly has sons that have his age, or even older. We must support them.”

“Yes, Marty, but he’s visibly going to introduce her to us soon,” Snowy said. “How should we react? Be surprised, admit we knew all along, ignore the fact that she’s three times our age and act as normal?”

“Yes. Let’s make a plan…”

They didn’t agree on a plan.

So, of course, when two days later they were playing home, they weren’t ready when families and friends came to the locker room after the game, and here entered Bad Bob Zimmermann, Alicia Zimmermann and a little ol’ thing with curly grey hair, knee-high to a grasshopper. She was walking with a cane, and was wearing a floral-pattern skirt and a soft yellow wool cardigan, and when she saw Jack, she directly walked to him, cane all but forgotten, to grab his cheek and force him down to kiss his forehead.  

“Haha savta, m’embarasse pas devant tout le monde !”

When she replied, it wasn’t in French, nor in English, and Jack giggled a little before answering her in the same language -albeit, sounding much more hesitant and looking for his words. It was probably Hebrew? Jack mentioned speaking Hebrew a bit, because his mother came from Israel. Alicia also said a few words none of them understood, and the granny softly scolded her.

“She’s even older than I imagined,” Snowy said to Thirdy. “If there’s a bit of wind outside she’s gonna break in two.”

“Oh my god. She met the parents already. Of course we were the next on the list. We need to be supportive, guys,” Thirdy shushed.

“He say savta. Isn’t she Betty?” Tater asked. “Is it French?”

“I don’t know. It probably means something like sweetheart?” Marty tried. “I’m not up to date with the lingo youngsters use those days. Or maybe it’s just Hebrew?”

“Guys-” Jack suddenly said to everyone, “I introduce you to my savta. Savta, here are my teammates – Marty’s right here, I know you’re a fan.”

The little granny greeted them all, and reserved a special hug to Marty, to whom she said, in French, with a French accent:

“Tu t’occupes bien de mon petit chéri, hein ?”

“Heu. Oui, oui, bien sûr ?”

“Bien, bien.”

She patted Marty’s cheek twice, and then she went back to Jack who had finished to change, and who gave her his arm so she could hold him, before he escorted her out of the locker room (he even held the door open for her!) followed by his parents. Who were younger than his girlfriend.

“Well she seems. Nice,” Snowy tried.

“It look like her boobs reach her stomach button,” Tater said.

“Tater, no-”

“Sorry Thirdy, it the only thing I could see-“

“Honestly, same,” Snowy said. “I can’t unsee Jack playing with saggy boobs now.”

“Oh God-” Marty groaned. “Your wives will also have saggy boobs one day!”

“Yeah but I’ll have years to get ready for them and a barely functional dick to go with it, and I’ll be in love, so it’ll be okay. I’m not in love with Jack’s girlfriend so…”

“So, now that we know,” Thirdy said. “He will stop refusing to come to dinner at Marty’s, right?”

Jack tried to find a stupid excuse to bail out of dinner one more week-end, but after Marty squinted at him for fifteen seconds straight, he asked who was going to be there and he accepted. Said he was coming with someone.

Yes, Jack, we’ve met your granfriend already, just come and bring dessert.

The Guys were hyped. They will finally have the time to talk to the girlfriend, to meet her properly -and who knows, maybe there’s more to her than her grandmotherly attributes.

They all arrived in advance, helping Gabby and Marty out to set up the table, when the front door rang.

That’s it. That was them. They will properly talk with the granny Jack was shagging. They had to be normal, and supportive, but mostly normal. They could probably do it.

Marty went to open the door, a huge smile on his lips-

To find one Stressed Out Jack, next to a Small Blond Young Twink, who was carrying some pie boxes in his arms.

“Hello?” Marty said.

“Hi, Barty. Marty. This is my boyfriend, Bittle. Bitty. Bits, this is Marty,” Jack managed to say.

“Hello, it’s so nice to meet you hun! I’d shake your hand, but mine are a bit busy right now-”

“Ha. Uh. Hello. No problem. Please come in,” Marty said, his eyes wide.

What the hell.

Both Jack and his boyfriend (boyfriend!!! Who looked like he was twenty!!!!) entered the house – Marty took the pie boxes out of this Bitty’s (and not fucking BETTY) arms so both could take off their coats; and Bitty was wearing a nice pullover over a flower-patterned shirt, and he was raving about his huge wool scarf that Jack had taken the time to knit for him, isn’t he the sweetest, really? And Marty could only say yes, yes, and Jack was looking at Bitty like he had hung the moon.

They were fucking idiots, the whole lot of them.

After dropping the pies in the kitchen, Marty brought them to the living-room were everyone was acting as if they weren’t dying of the wait, and, well, Marty wasn’t proud to say he was relishing in the face that everyone made when they saw Bitty -they all managed to quickly hide their shock, though, and the wives went the firsts up to them to be introduced, so all was well. 

“What does that mean?” Tater shushed, grabbing Marty. “Is that her son?”

“Her grandson?” Snowy asked.

But Bitty was already throwing himself in a tale about how he was almost late because his hockey teammates were acting like six-foot-tall babies and how he had to reign them in before getting his train down to Providence but they still stole one of his pies- and Jack was right besides him, his arm around his waist as if it was where it belonged and being more comfortable than any of the Guys ever saw him.

“Nah. I think it’s him,” Thirdy smiled. “A grandma-spirited young lad, to go with our favourite grandpa-minded guy.”

“I still think there something going on between him and that Savta,” Tater insisted.

Gabby giggled at something Thirdy’s wife said, and then she asked something to Bitty, who answered with a big smile.

“Oh, Robert and Alicia are just lovely, let me tell you! I haven’t gotten to meet the family in Québec yet, but last week when his Savta came from Israel I was introduced. She didn’t like me too much, I hope I’ll win over the other grandma more easily…”

Well. That explained a few things.

“I still-”

“Tater stop talking.”