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I rush after her. “Kalico. Stop.”
She falls against a wall, crossing her arms with one hand covering her face. “I knew this would happen. How can I look all of them in the face and talk about my dad?”
I wish I could make her see. No one here blames her. Grams rounds the corner, giving me a knowing, soft nod.
“Walk with me?” Grams warmly asks Kali. Grams will know what to say, so I smile and give her a chaste kiss on the lips.
“You’re in good hands,” I say.
Grams waves me off. “You guys go out skating. We’ll be out there in a few minutes.”
KALI
Grams makes me nervous. Paxton loves her so much, and her opinion will carry a lot of weight with him. Ugh. Why did I bring up my dad?
What was I thinking?
Grams wraps her thin arm through mine, and we walk, stopping at the front door. “The other side of that door,” she says, pointing and looking at me, “that’s where we leave all our guilt. There is no place inside this home for that.”
I let her words sink in and inhale. I nod, feeling the warmth of Grams’s touch as she gently squeezes my arm. Tears well up in my eyes.
“C’mon,” she continues, leading me down the hallway to a closed door.
When she opens the door, I’m taken aback. Floor to ceiling pictures in sleek black frames adorn three of the four walls and half the other wall, with memories captured in time. A teal velvet couch sits in the center of the room. Grams walks us to the couch and sits down, patting the cushion beside her. I follow her lead, sinking into the softness of the velvet. My eyes wander from picture to picture, each telling a story through vibrant colors and frozen moments in time.
“This room is my memory room. See that picture?” I take a moment to find the one she’s pointing at. There are so many. It’s obvious once I see it. It’s Paxton and his brother. There’s no denying that they are brothers. “That’s Jake. We have eighteen wonderful years of memories with him.” A pang of guilt hits my belly despite her earlier words about leaving it at the door. Showing me this is doing the exact opposite. “And you have eight years of wonderful memories of your mother and father. We want to celebrate all those memories. They are what keep them alive in our hearts.” She turns toward me, taking my hand in hers. Her hands are soft and cool, her eyes tender and warm. “We’d never want to take that from you, Kali. Never regret remembering them. Especially around us.”
I blink back tears, her words wrapping around me like a warm blanket, soothing the chill in my bones. “Thank you,” I manage to say through the feelings lodged in my throat.
Grams looks over her shoulder. “And see that wall right there? It’s waiting for new pictures. New memories. Hopefully, with some of you and Paxton and maybe some more grand babies.” She winks at me when my cheeks blush. She’s not wasting any time. “He loves you, dear. And we love you because of that. All of you.” Her words fill me with a sense of belonging I haven’t felt in a long time.
“You’re making me cry,” I murmur, wiping my eyes at the same time I’m wearing a smile.
“Ok, enough of that.” She pats my hand and then glances toward the door as if expecting someone to be there. I look over my shoulder, but no one is there. When she smiles, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Before we head back out, I have to ask, what’d you think of the pie?” I squeeze my brows together. We haven’t eaten pie yet. She leans in and whispers, “You know, the cherry pie.”
“Oh, that pie.” Still not sure which one, because Paxton bought me two cherry pies.
“When he told me he had met you and what happened at the diner, I gave him a little nudge on what to do next.” That was her idea? I think back and remember the pie delivered the next day. Paxton called his Grams right after? How adorable is that? “And then hearing what happened next—about what that vile woman had done—I was worried about Pax. It didn’t look good. I told him to tell you right away.”
“Sometimes he’s too stubborn.”
“That he is. But his heart more than makes up for it.” She gazes at a picture on the wall with a wistful sigh. “I was worried when his mom married that god-awful man that he’d grow up with so much hatred in his heart he would have a hard time finding his way back. But he has his dad’s heart.” She looks at me and lets out a bitter laugh. “Praise God because that woman’s heart is defective.”
No objection there.
She wraps her arms around me and gives my shoulders a squeeze. “Ready to go back out? I’m sure Paxton is waiting right outside the door. That boy never listens.”
I nod, but I’m making Paxton bring me back to this room later. The memories in here are rich and full of life.
Sure enough, Paxton’s perched on the hallway bench, engrossed in his phone. He springs up as soon as we walk out. Grams pats his arm as she passes him.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I am. I love your family. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’m so afraid I’m going to mess it up.”
“Kalico,” he says, pulling me into his chest and kissing me on the forehead. “Just be yourself, and they’ll all love you like I do.”
Be myself. That I can do. I’ve never tried to be anyone else, and I shouldn’t try now. It might take time for me to feel comfortable talking about my parents, just as it did with Paxton, but I trust it’ll happen. The tension I was holding in my shoulders releases.
