Mac huffed and rolled her eyes. “What, Nat gets off scot-free? Figures.”
“I believe your sister has her hands full with a baby, does she not?” Momma shot back, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mac mumbled, shooting a halfhearted glare my way, to which I only responded with a smug smile.
“Finn, Nash, and Hudson, would y’all mind carryin’ in the serving platters, please?”
A chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” went up, and I grinned at how all five foot two inches of my mom could command grown men a foot or more taller than her without batting an eye.
“Asher, there’s a high chair in the laundry room, if you wanna grab that for Owen.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood, and there was no good reason I had for immediately missing the heat of his body where it had been pressed against mine.
“Am I gonna be able to actually eat this meal, or did you prepare me a salad, Caroline?” Daddy pushed to stand from his recliner, and I couldn’t help but notice it took him longer than usual to do so.
I felt a pang of guilt for ragging on him like I usually did instead of taking it easy. True, I’d been home more in the past few months post-surgery than I had in the previous few years combined, but I still wasn’t here day in and day out to monitor his progress—or his decline.
“You’ll eat what I feed you without complaint, Richard,” my momma called from the kitchen, not even bothering to spare my dad a glance.
“Wouldn’t count on that, honey,” Gran said, just loud enough for me to hear.
The two of us shared a smile. While I had missed my sisters and momma since I’d been gone—and, okay, sometimes my daddy—I’d ached to be near Gran most of all. My grandma had always been the one to encourage me…all of the Haven girls, really.
Whether it was photography or travel or simply climbing trees, Gran had encouraged me to do what I loved without caring what anyone else thought of it. Truthfully, I owed my grandma for every ounce of the stubborn, strong, independent woman I’d become.
“Well, don’t just sit there,” Gran said. “Come over here and help an old lady up. Your daddy’s about to whine again to your momma, and I don’t wanna miss hearin’ her put him in his place.”
I laughed and set down Owen, who immediately took off in a crawl. In a panic, I realized I hadn’t checked to make surethe area was safe and quickly scanned the room to ensure there weren’t any knives or hot pokers lying around.
Once that was confirmed, I walked over to Gran and offered her a hand. It was an excuse, of course, because Gran was probably in even better shape than I was. She walked every day with her friends, usually cruising the Square with their ankle and wrist weights before the sun started beating down and baking everything to a crisp.
Now that we’d just tiptoed into May and were coming up on Satan’s ballsac season, they’d no doubt be finding somewhere else to get in their daily gab—err, exercise—session. Though, knowing Gran, Edna, and the rest of the old lady posse, they’d probably buy a gym membership for the eye candy alone.
“You didn’t need me for this.” I helped Gran up while keeping one eye on a cruising Owen.
“You’re right. I just wanted to get my hands on that baby, and then you went and put him down anyway.”
“Just usin’ me, huh? That’s brutal, Gran.”
“Eh,” she said, unbothered. “Come and visit me more often if you want me to be nicer to you. And get me that baby.”
I laughed and scooped up Owen as he attempted to zoom past. Gran held out her arms for him, and he leaned into her without pause, babbling and drooling away.
“Well, aren’t you just a sweet one?” Gran said, leading us toward the dining room.
“Yeah, he is. But he’s gonna be a challenge. He’s already tryin’ to escape his crib, and he’s not even nine months.”
“That so?” Gran asked. “Sounds like trouble. Speakin’ of, when’re you gonna give me another great-grandbaby?”
“What?” Momma said, her voice quick as a whip as her eyes darted to mine before dropping to my stomach.
My daddy wasn’t nearly as chill, and his sharp, “What?” could’ve killed a man if words were weapons.
“See what you did now, old woman?” I said to Gran before facing the room and rolling my eyes. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh, thank heavens,” Rory said with a heavy exhale, sinking back into her seat at the dining room table. “I don’t think the world’s ready for another one of you just yet.”
Daddy rubbed his chest. “Don’t go spoutin’ off nonsense like that, Momma. You’ll give me another heart attack.”
