Sloane waved her off.
Mae dragged her backpack over. Worked through a problem. Got it right. Scooted fractionally closer. When she solved another, Hog's laugh was loud again, and Mae smiled. She threw her arms around his neck—quick, fierce—and darted back.
"Can you come to my game Saturday?" Liam asked.
"I've got practice, but I'll try."
Sloane excused herself and the kids. It was bath time. In minutes, the water was running.
Hog came back to the couch and sat beside me. "How'd I do?"
"Good."
"Your sister's still deciding."
"Her ex hasn't called the kids in three weeks."
"Shit." He gripped my thigh. "That's why she wonders whether this is real?"
"Yeah."
"Is it?" His voice was softer. "Real, I mean. Because I keep waiting for—" His phone buzzed. He looked at it immediately.
"Hog."
"Sorry. It's just—" He set it down. Screen up. "Where you realize this isn't what you signed up for."
Before I could answer, Mae's voice sounded from the hallway. "Uncle Rhett? Can you help me with my hair?"
We pulled apart. Hog's hand fell away.
Mae stood in the hallway in pajamas, hairbrush in hand, hair wet and tangled. "Mom's helping Liam, and I can't—" She stopped when she saw us on the couch close together. "Sorry."
"It's okay." I stood. "Come here."
She came over but kept looking at Hog. "Do you know how to braid?"
"Uh—" Hog looked at me. "I can knit, but braiding's different."
"Can you try?"
"Mae, you don't have to—" I started.
"I want him to try." She handed Hog the brush.
Hog took it like it might explode. Set his phone aside. "Okay. But if I mess this up—"
"You won't." Mae climbed onto the couch beside him, turned her back, and waited.
He started brushing. Gentle. Patient. Mae watched me in the reflection of the dark window.
"Are you gonna marry Uncle Rhett?"
Hog's hands stopped.
"That's—yeah," he said, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess them. "Yeah, I am."
"The braid," Mae prompted.
