Page 34

“He fixed your entire kitchen in one afternoon. Tyson doesn’t do anything spontaneously. The man believes in schedules and proper planning and definitely not dropping everything to help random neighbors.” She tilted her head, studying me with eyes that missed nothing. My heart was definitely beating a mile per hour now.

This was happening. Tyson’s mother was standing on my disaster of a porch, holding a casserole and basically announcing that her son had a thing for me. Which he didn’t. He was just neighborly. And helpful. And built like a Greek god, but that was beside the point.

“Would you like coffee?” I heard myself ask in a thin voice, because apparently I had no survival instincts. “I just made a pot.”

“I would love coffee.”

That was how I ended up with Delia Calloway in my kitchen, the woman making herself at home like she’d been visiting for years instead of minutes. She had that gift some people possessed, the ability to make any space feel warm just by existing in it.

“So. Where are you from, Sam?”

Damn. I didn’t want to lie to her, so I said, “Charlotte. North Carolina.”

“Oh, so you’re from Charlotte,” she nodded. “Big change, coming to Cedarbrook.”

“Yes. I really needed that change.”

“Mmm.” She sipped her coffee, managing to make the simple sound feel loaded with understanding. “Sometimes we need to burn it all down and start over. We did that once. Loaded baby Tyson in our car and drove until we found somewhere that felt safe.”

There was a story there, but she didn’t offer it and I didn’t ask. Instead, she launched into a comprehensive breakdown of Cedarbrook, who to know, where to shop, which neighbors would show up uninvited (apparently several), and which local businesses deserved support.

“Marty at the hardware store will try to flirt, but he’s harmless and gives a senior discount if you let him think he’s charming. Martha at the grocery store knows everyone’s business but she’s good people, helped me through some rough times. Oh, and avoid the Baptist church’s bake sales. They mean well, but Louise Henderson uses salt instead of sugar at least once a year and nobody has the heart to tell her.”

I found myself laughing carelessly with her. I could see Delia had that effect, like sunshine that snuck up on you.

“The Calloway clan must run this town,” I said. “Tyson, you…”

“Oh honey, there are so many of us. Patrick’s a deputy, Rose is a teacher, and there’s Finn. He runs the auto shop. We’re like kudzu, you can’t get rid of us once we take root.”

A knock interrupted what was definitely about to be more gentle interrogation. I opened the door to find Tyson holding a grocery bag and wearing an expression I could only describe as adorably sheepish.

“Hey. I - Noa kept asking about you, and I noticed you haven’t been out much, so I brought some things you might need…”

The words died as his mother’s voice rang out behind me.

“Oh honey, that’s so thoughtful of you.”

The look of pure horror that crossed his face made me bite back a laugh. His eyes went wide, darting between me and the voice he clearly recognized.

“Mom?”

I stepped aside, giving him full view of Delia sitting at my kitchen table like she owned the place. The panic on his face intensified.

“What? What are you doing here?!”

“Having coffee with your neighbor,” Delia said cheerfully. “Come in, sweetheart. Don’t lurk in doorways.”

He looked at me, and I couldn’t help it, I smiled. The corner of his mouth twitched in response before he remembered he was mortified.

“I can come back,” he started.

“Get in here,” his mother commanded, and apparently some things didn’t change no matter how old you got, because Tyson immediately obeyed.

He set the grocery bag on my counter, movements careful and controlled. I peeked inside, milk, bread, eggs, fresh fruit, vegetables, even a box of coffee I knew was good. My chest did this weird squeeze thing I didn’t want to examine.

“You didn’t have to do this.” I bit my lip.

“Noa insisted.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She made a list with illustrations. The apple has a smiley face.”