Page 33 of She Autumn Be Mine

“Okay. Don’t get upset. I’m taking you to meet my parents.”

“Jake! You could’ve warned me.” I pulled down the visor mirror, aghast at my reflection. I quickly braided my hair, and then inspected my tee to make sure there were no stains. It was fine enough to go over wedding details with Ivy as she tried to pull together our wedding with a week’s notice. But to meet the parents?

Stetson squealed behind us, apparently delighted that Mama had finally lost her mind.

“It’s really not a big deal, Autumn. They’re going to like you both.”

“It is to me.” But I could only stew for a moment. This meeting was inevitable. I may not have family to speak of, but he did.

“Seriously, my parents are very down home, nice people. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be nervous. Besides, meeting Jamie was also a surprise and you handled that fine.” Jake pointed through the windshield. “Hey, see that river?”

“Don’t you try to distract me. I’m still mad at you.” But I leaned forward anyway to view a ribbon of sparkling blue curving through the prairie.

“That’s the Gruff Bear River. My dad taught me to fly-fish down there.”

“Were you good at it?”

“No. I fell in.”

I turned toward him. “How old were you?”

“Eight.”

I laughed. “Please tell me he saved you.”

“He hauled me out and told me the fish weren’t biting hard enough that day to go swimming after them.”

I snorted. “I like that humor.”

Jake’s expression softened. “He’s a good man. He’ll like you.”

Something about the way he said it made me shift in my seat.

“Is this a right of passage where you’ll teach Stetson how to fish?”

“Someday. I hope so. Would you like me to?”

“Yeah. That’d be nice. If he wanted to, that is.” Jake was so different from Brantley, who had little interest in outdoor pursuits. Every day I found another way to compare the two of them. When it came right down to it, I should stop because Brantley couldn’t compete.

Jake drove on, pointing out the school where he’d played football, the dirt road he’d ridden his bike down as a kid and broke his arm, and a swimming hole where he claimed Jamie once shoved him off a rock because he’d put a frog in her bed.

“No. Please tell me you didn’t torture your sister.”

He glanced over. “Whose side are you on?”

“Female solidarity.”

From the back seat came a loud, “Dada!”

Jake’s eyes jumped to the rearview mirror. I bit my lip. Stetson had become increasingly committed to that particular word, despite Jake’s repeated attempts to convince him that Baba was perfectly adequate.

“Baba,” Jake corrected.

“Dada.”

“Baaa-baaa.”

“DADA!”