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She flagged Lettie down. "Bring me some tea and a biscuit, honey."

"Already on it," Lettie said and headed to the kitchen.

Little Grandma settled back in the booth like she owned it. Which, I realized, she probably did. "Jase said you might be coming to visit. Though he thought it would be later in the year."

"Plans changed."

"That they do." Her tea arrived. She added enough sugar to send a normal person into diabetic shock. "You made the right choice, coming here."

"I haven't made any choices yet."

She smiled. The expression transformed her face, making her look decades younger. "Oh honey, you made the choice the minute you got on that plane and flew here. Now you're just waiting to admit it to yourself."

Hmm. Now wasn't that the damn truth?

"This town has a way of healing people," she continued. "I've seen it more times than I can count. Broken soldiers, grieving widows, lost souls who didn’t know where they belonged. Jasper Creek gives them time to figure it out."

"I'm just visiting family." I answered, unsure I liked where this was going.

"Course you are." She took a tiny bite of biscuit. "That's what they all say at first. Then they realize family isn't just blood. It's the people who show up. The ones who don't ask questions you can't answer. The ones who just let you be until you're ready not to just be anymore."

Lettie appeared again. "Dessert?" she asked.

"Pattie made your favorite," Little Grandma said.

I looked up sharply. "My favorite?"

"Peach cobbler with homemade vanilla ice cream." The old lady's eyes twinkled. Exactly what I would have ordered if I had ever been handed a menu.

"How?" The word came out more harshly than I intended.

"Bring two, Lettie," she said to her granddaughter. She patted my hand. "Maybe I'm just confusing you with your cousin."

"How come I don't think you are?"

She chuckled, it came out thin and whispery. "Because you're a smart man. If it makes you feel better, just think that Jase told me."

The first bite of cobbler was perfect. Sweet peaches, flaky crust, ice cream melting into puddles of cream. It tasted like summer in Georgia, like my grandmother's kitchen, like a hundred memories I'd packed away.

"Everyone has a path," Little Grandma said, like our conversation hadn't been interrupted by her witchcraft. "Sometimes we wander off it, get lost in the woods for a while. But eventually, if we're lucky, we find our way back. Or maybe the path finds us."

"You think I'm on a path?"

"Honey, we're all on paths. Question is, whether we're walking toward something or away from it." She finished her four bites of cobbler and stood. "Your first meal in Jasper Creek is on the house. Welcome to town."

“Thank you,” I said, feeling immense gratitude. She patted my hand before she left. Her touch was paper-soft but somehow steady.

I finished my entire serving of cobbler slowly, watching the town through the window. Families walked past, probably heading home from the science fair. A couple held hands while their kids ran ahead. An old man walked his dog, stopping to let it sniff every light pole.

Normal life. The kind I'd protected but never lived.

Since the meal was free, I left a twenty-dollar tip on the table. Lettie would find it when she cleared up.

My phone buzzed. Text from Jase. "Kids want to know if Uncle Code will help them design a better robot for next year."

Uncle Code. Not Cousin Code. Uncle.

I typed back, "Tell them we'll win first place."