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“Like,Gone with the Wind,” she said, bending down to meet Rhett’s eyes. “I approve.”
“Hi,” Rhett said shyly.
“Even if it’s problematic,” I muttered, glancing at Michael. He laughed under his breath. It was a subject I’d bored him with at least a hundred times when we were in high school.
“Sometimes the best literature is a bit problematic,” Callie murmured seriously. “Your mama understands that.”
“Yeah,” Rhett said, leaning against my leg.
“She always was smart,” Callie said as she straightened. “Hello, Emmy Lou.”
“Hey, Grams,” I replied, the words getting caught in my throat. They came out like a croak as my eyes watered.
“Oh, honey,” she said, stepping forward to pull me into a hug. “Look at that beautiful boy you made.”
I took in the scent of her and the feel of her hair against my cheek and closed my eyes, holding on for dear life. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”
“I’m just glad you’re here now,” she whispered back, running her hand through the back of my hair.
“I missed you,” I sniffled, trying and failing to get myself together.
“We missed you, too,” she said, giving me a squeeze.
While Michael’s parents’ house had always felt like home, secure and safe and steady—Michael’s grandparents’ house felt like a warm hug. It was the place you went when you needed to be loved on, where you went to escape, where you went when you screwed up. It was the net that caught you when you fell.
Calliewas the net that caught you when you fell. No recriminations. No lectures. She was the epitome of unconditional love.
“Startin’ to rain again,” Michael said softly. “Let’s get inside.”
“Well, look at us,” Callie said, wiping at her own cheeks as she pulled away. “Just a couple of crybabies.”
Rhett watched me closely as we headed inside, but whatever questions he had, he kept to himself. I wasn’t even sure if I could answer him. Someday, when he’d screwed up and was afraid to come home, he’d understand the magic of Callie and why my cheeks were wet.
“They’re here, Asa!”
“I can see that, Calliope,” Michael’s grandpa said in amusement from right inside the door. “No need to yell.”
“Shit,” she yelped before laughing. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“I live here,” he teased, smacking her ass lightly as she led us into the house. “Whoa, you must be Rhett.”
Rhett stared up at the big man, wide-eyed, his hand clutching mine.
“I thought you’d be smaller,” Grease said conversationally.
“You big,” Rhett mumbled, making his great-grandfather laugh.
“Where you thinkyougot it?” Grease asked, chuckling. “Someday, you’ll be tall as me.”
“Okay,” Rhett breathed, making us all laugh.
“Hey, you wanna come help me get the table cleaned off? My wife’s a hoarder, and she’s got papers and shit everywhere.” Grease reached his hand out, and after a small hesitation, Rhett let go of me and moved toward him.
“Wife?” he asked curiously.
Grease pointed at Callie with his thumb.
“Oh,” Rhett said.
