against his cheek. “It’s soft and look,” he said, brandishing his third prize. “It’s a squishy raccoon.”
“Cute.”
He climbed into the car and placed the sheep in his lap as I buckled him in. “I shall name her Wooly.”
Wooly was still in his lap thirty minutes later when we pulled into town.
Forgetting his nerves for just a moment, Miller pressed his face against the window and took in all the changes around him. “It looks so different. This part of town used to be empty.” Now there were big box stores and large parking lots with restaurants.
“And there’s where I went to high school,” he said, pointing at a large building as we passed, his smile returning for brief flashes.
I continued to follow the directions on my phone as Miller relived little snippets of his past.
“There’s the snow cone stand. Stephanie and I used to walk there after school. I’d get the same thing every time: lime and coconut. It’s so good and tart and sweet.”
I vowed to get him a snow cone before we left. “We’ll have to stop by.”
“Really?” Miller wiggled in his seat. “You’re the best!”
“That’s where my dad works,” he said, pointing at a large tractor rental store. “He’s the head mechanic. He used to let me help mop the floors after closing.” His voice was so proud I couldn’t imagine how everything had gone so wrong.
“Oh and there’s my favorite barbecue place,” he said, pointing at a local meat market. “The restaurant’s in the back, but shhh, it’s kind of a local secret.”
His chatter quieted as we turned down the street toward his grandparent’s house. We pulled into the driveway of a small, quaint house just outside of town, his hands fisted in his lap as he stared at the front door.
It was cute, I thought, staring at the flowers in the window boxes and the old porch swing that moved in the breeze.
“Well,” I said, putting the car into park. “Here we are.”
“Yeah.” He turned and gave me a quick smile. “Do you think if we back out now, they won’t notice?”
A hand pushed open the screen door and a small, older woman with a shock of white hair, a simple blue dress, and a shaky smile waved. “I don’t think so, little darling.”
Turning off the car, I opened the door and stepped out. Miller followed suit, leaving all of his toys in the car.
“Greg! Greg! He’s here!” Macy yelled as she flew down the front steps, her arms held out wide as Miller raced toward her. “Oh! Look at you,” she said, pulling back his face and cupping his cheeks. “You’ve gotten so big! And handsome!”
I held in my snort. I pictured Miller that morning, sprawled across my bed in his pink nightgown with Sprinkles right next to him. Big and handsome, he was not. I preferred little and pretty.
“I missed you so much,” he said, returning for another hug.
An older gentleman stepped out on the porch, a tender smile on his face as he watched the two of them hug it out in the front yard. He spotted me first, lifting his hand in greeting. Figuring Miller and his Memaw needed a minute before they remembered their manners, I stepped around the pair and joined his grandpa.
“Hi, I’m Carson,” I said, holding out my hand.
“Pops,” he replied, returning my firm handshake.
With a short jerk, he pulled me into his arms for a quick, manly hug, his large hand patting me on the back a few times before he let me go. “Thank you for bringing him home.”
I cleared my throat, touched by his unexpected welcome. “That was all Miller. I just gave him a little push.”
We both turned as Miller and Macy joined us on the porch. Miller detached himself from his grandma and snuggled up to my side.
“Memaw, Pops,” Miller said, taking my hand in his. “This is Carson. Carson, these are my grandparents.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Miller’s told me so much about you both.” I smiled, hoping my charm would get me into his Memaw’s good graces. Miller had described her as prickly with strangers.
Unexpectedly, my arms were full of little, old lady as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. As quick as she had arrived and before I could get a chance to return the hug, she stepped back, smoothing down her hair as if nothing had just happened.
“Well then,” she said, turning toward the house. “Who wants pie?”