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“Hey now, that’s not true.” I dislike the idea that my son has that impression, and I try to think of the many examples of times I’ve smiled at him. But nothing comes to mind. It’s almost like the muscles required to smile have atrophied in the years since Elizabeth left us. “I’m sure I smile sometimes,” I say, hoping Scout can recall a time.

“Some people don’t show it on their faces, but they’re smiling on the inside,” Callie says. “Your dad is probably just like that.”

It seems to satisfy Scout, who goes back to humming along to Taylor Swift, while I ponder how Callie could know that about me.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re at Reed’s house. It’s a sprawling ranch house like mine, only Reed’s wife is practically a botanist, so the entire front of the house is planted with native flowers, which are in full bloom this time of year. It’s a sea of white, yellow, and purple blooms. The winding rosemary hedge maze leading to the rear of the property has Scout fumbling to unbuckle his seat belt as soon as we park. Callie helps him, and he takes her hand, running her over to the maze and dragging her through its twists and turns. I don’t have time to remind Scout he should have asked Callie before insisting she accompany him, but I don’t get the impression she’d say no to him.

She turns and smiles at me over her shoulder while pretending to be lost and unable to find Scout in the shrubbery. His joyful laugh leads her through the maze as I follow like a useless, tagalong cousin.

Reed’s sister Jenny intercepts me when I reach the end of the maze, which opens to the small grassy yard and the horse pasture beyond. “Hey, welcome. So…I met your girlfriend…” She gives me a sassy, knowing look that says she knows things even I don’t know about our supposed relationship. I wonder what Callie told her. “Scout introduced me, said she makes you happier than money.”

My pulse quickens because I’m not ready for any of this. Not prepared to walk into a barbecue where people will think they know my story before I have a chance to tell it. Not ready to playact in front of my son and half the town with a woman who’s as unpredictable as she is gorgeous, something that won’t make it any easier to get through the day.

“Is that what Scout called her, my girlfriend?”

She laughs. “Not exactly. He called her your ‘special friend,’ but then he tried to wink.” She demonstrates, squeezing both eyes closed and then covering one of her eyes with her hand and opening her mouth in the most exaggerated, terrible wink ever attempted.

My shoulders slump in defeat. “Everyone says to watch out for the teenage years, but no one says they begin before your kid’s even five.”

She laughs and walks me to the corner of the yard, pointing out who’s who before I enter the fray. “Jim and Steve came with their twins. The Colvin family is over there. A few guys Reed works with and their wives and kids. My family. They’re only in town visiting us for the weekend, thank goodness.”

“That bad, eh?”

“Well, I’ll let you be the judge. My mom was here for five minutes before she commented on how my hair feels like silk but looks like straw.”

“I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere.”

“Buried, along with her love.” Jenny flutters her lashes and smiles. She’s easily one of the best people I know. It’s part of the reason Reed and I have stayed close over the years. We do the dude thing and meet every so often for a beer at the Hitching Post, but Jenny insists we “gather by the light of day” and act like the found family that we are.

She’s right, but it would have taken Reed and me another dozen years to figure it out. Hence the barbecue today, which I know was her idea.

“I’d lay good odds that Callie has already charmed your mom and convinced her that your hair looks amazing.”

“Sounds like she’s charmed you. Not easy to do for someone who doesn’t like most people.”

I grunt in agreement. “Most people are irritating.”

“You just have a low tolerance for small talk. It’s not a bad thing, but you should try to cut people some slack. They’re trying to get by, same as you. And at a party with strong drinks the way Reed makes them, people are gonna say some dumb shit.”

“I know. I’m trying to get mentally prepared.”

Jenny kisses me on the cheek and sends me into the yard, but not before she takes the fruit tart off my hands. “I know you had nothing to do with making this, but thanks for carrying it in.”

“Callie baked it. But thanks for your confidence in my cooking skills.”

Sometimes I want to rethink my decision about including Jenny in my found family, but she means well.

It doesn’t take long before the story of my “meet cute” with Callie has morphed into a completely new tale, thanks to Scout’s active imagination and gossip that moves like wildfire.

By the time I find Reed, who’s manning the barbecue in an apron with a picture of a lobster flipping burgers on it, he tells me a version that is nowhere close to what Callie and I told Scout in the car.

“So I hear you slipped on a peach pit and went down like a sack of flour in the parking lot trying to get the attention of a cute blonde, and now she’s your girlfriend.”

I take a long draw on my beer, not wanting to confirm or deny this ridiculousness. “Something like that.”

“So spill. You two looked pretty cozy down by the lake the other day. Not gonna lie, it was really good to see, man.”

He goes down the line, flipping each burger on the grill and basting a set of ribs he’s just put on a platter.