“If you ask her nicely, she might even give you a ride to work tomorrow.”
She snorts. “I think I’ll pass.”
I lead the way up the front steps onto the wraparound porch, holding open the screen door for Callie. She follows me inside, and I deposit my hat and boots in the entry, inhaling the scent of Mama’s pancakes.
Gracie’s in her high chair at the island, double-fisting French toast sticks while Emmy swirls cut-up pancakes in a massive puddle of syrup that takes up her entire plate.
“Uncle Jaxy!” Emmy says, reaching for me with sticky fingers.
“Hands to yourself, Emmy Lou,” Mama says. “At least until you’re cleaned up.”
I cradle Emmy’s head and press a kiss between her pigtails. “Morning, Em. Being a good girl for Gigi?”
I take note of the way Callie’s eyes flare, just a bit, and add praise to my imaginary list.
Emmy nods and makes an incoherent sound around a bite of food.
Mama offers Callie a warm smile, drying her hands on her apron. “You settling in alright?”
She’s probably tired of the question already, but she doesn’t let on. She pulls out the same answer she gave Wilder. “So far so good. Your son’s a great cook.”
Mama’s brows knit together.
“I told her I learned from the best.”
“Well, at least you aren’t a total liar,” Mama says. “I did teach you a thing or two, but I didn’t realize you actually retained any of it.”
“Maybe I just didn’t have a good enough reason to try.”
Mama’s expression softens. “I’m glad you found one.”
She disappears into the pantry, returning with a large wicker basket and setting it on a stool at the island. “I took theliberty of putting together a little welcome gift for you. It’s not much, just some candles, bubble bath, mostly things you won’t find in a bachelor pad.”
“Hey,” I say defensively, “I have candles.”
Callie pulls out a chunky blanket that I’m certain my mama had to have made by hand at some point. I swear she keeps them stashed away for special occasions.
Callieisspecial, I’ll grant her that.
“I’ve got blankets, too,” I say.
She dismisses me with a wave of her hand. “Go away. Let me have my fun.”
I lean against the wall and watch her fawn over Callie like she’s gained another daughter.
Callie hugs the blanket to her chest, “Thank you. You really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble for me.”
Something solemn crosses her features, but it’s gone before I can grab hold of it. It’s not the first time I’ve seen the haunted look in her eyes. I want to know what put it there, and more importantly, how I can make it disappear for good.
Mama pulls Callie in for a hug, glancing at me over her shoulder in silent communication.
I clear my throat, drawing Callie’s attention. “What time is Mo bringing Arnold over?”
She laughs, and it’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen all morning. I want all of her smiles, and if it takes fumbling her cat’s name to get them, I’ll come up with a million different names for him.
“It’s Atticus. Atticus Finch. They said they’d be here around noon.”
“He has a full name?”
