Granny nods compassionately. “You won’t like hearing this, but my elbow is acting up.”
Callie’s eyes shoot to me, her eyebrows inching together in confusion.
Heaven help us. “She doesn’t know what that means, Granny.”
Mum steps in. “Granny believes she can sense terrible weather through her bones.”
“As though all my bones can just phone the clouds.” Granny frowns. “No, I canassureyou this storm is going to be a doozy. This broken elbow never fails me.”
Callie glances at me for confirmation, so I give her a minor shrug. In Granny’s defense, she hasn’t been wrong yet.
A ding goes off on the counter, signifying the bread is finished.
“Oven?” Mum asks.
I nod, so she retrieves hot pads from the drawer, pulling out the rounded loaf and letting it rest on the bread board. The kitchen smells wonderful, which almost makes up for the four extra people making Callie look like she wants to crawl into her own chest. She seemed like such a people-person that first night in the pub. I realize I may have messed up a little, but that doesn’t explain what is making her uncomfortable with my family.Theynever told her they were too selective to kiss her.
“Mum, butter?” I ask. “Granny, stew can go in the bowls. Callie, help me out here?”
I move toward the living room before I can think twice about how this looks, and I don’t wait for Callie to answer. I’m happy when she follows me and closes the kitchen door. Every room in this house has a door, and currently I’m glad for it.
“What do you need?”
“Alright?” I ask.
“What?”
What part of that was confusing? I drag a hand over my chin. “You’re acting like the good kid trying to hide contraband from the teachers. What’s going on?”
“Did you tell them?”
“Tell them what?”
She gestures between us. “About my stupidity?”
Everything clears in an instant. She thinks my parents and grandparents know she tried to kiss me on night one. As soon as I receive clarity, it’s swiftly followed by outrage. “You think that poorly of me?”
“How would I know what you choose to be selective about?”
Well, that’s low. “Of course I didn’t tell them. I’m not cruel.”
She dips her head to the side, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her eyebrows in a challenge.
“I’mnot,” I repeat.
“We’re entitled to our own opinions,” she says mildly.
Something about that gets under my skin, which is incredibly strange. I don’t typically get rattled. Maybe it’s the series of events over the last few days or the myriad emotions that have come up from all directions, but Callie has effectively worked her way beneath my calm exterior.
“Shall we eat now?”
“No,” I say. “We need to settle this. It’s important to me you know I never intentionally?—”
“Yes, I know. We can go. You nevermeantto hurt my feelings. It just happened.”
Hurt her feelings? That floors me. I feel like a right daft eejit. “Callie, can we call a truce?”
“I didn’t realize we were at war.”
