“Or the time she had to come bail you and Delilah out?” Emmett said to Savannah, smirking.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she murmured into her glass.
I snorted. “I do. You were caught egging some poor guy’s car with Miss Louise.”
“And when she got y’all in the car, she said, ‘Next time, make sure you don’t get caught,’” Emmett continued.
“It was Delilah’s fault,” Savannah said—her go-to line growing up. She always blamed either me or Delilah.
I was about to say something when there was a knock on the door. I frowned, looking at everyone. They shrugged their shoulders. “It might be Beau,” I said, getting up, although he normally didn’t knock anymore.
When I opened the door, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. “Oh my God,” I blurted.
“Who is it?” Savannah asked, frowning.
I turned, blinking quickly at them, my jaw hanging open. I backed out of the doorway. “It’s Tess,” I rasped, hardly able to believe it. Tess and akid.
“What?” Emmett barked, flying out of his chair. He stopped short in the doorway. “Tessie?” he croaked, his eyes taking on a subtle glassiness. Tess was Emmett’s weak spot without a doubt, always had been.
“Hi, Em,” she said weakly, giving him a timid smile.
The dark auburn hair she shared with me was dyed black and pin-straight. Her clothes didn’t fit right, and she was thin, so thin it was concerning.
She looked…God, she looked fucking terrible.
Her eyes were the worst. They used to be warm, vibrant, inquisitive. Once as vibrant blue as a cloudless summer sky, but now they were transparent like glass. Just as fragile and empty. The same kind of empty Emmett came home with after hisdeployments. She had dark circles under them, the kind you only got from months—years—of exhaustion.
And the boy. The boy was skinny too, and just as tired-looking. He was small, maybe three or four, with bright red, curly hair and brown eyes. But aside from that, he looked just like her.
“Who’s this?” I whispered, staring at him.
Tess took his hand in hers. “This is Luke,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “My son.”
A feather could’ve knocked me over. My baby sister had a baby. She had a baby and didn’t tell anyone. I couldn’t decide whether to be heartbroken or furious. Mama would’ve been ecstatic to have known she had a grandson, to have seen her youngest daughter one last time.
It honestly made me want to scream at her to leave. But the anger was replaced by a heavy dose of guilt. Mama would’ve welcomed them home with open arms, taken care of them, so I would do the same.
“Well, get in here,” Emmett insisted, already ahead of me.
“Oh my Lord in heaven!” Gran wept when they stepped through the door, tossing her crocheting to the floor. She got up and made her way over to us slowly. “Our little Tessie is home! And with a baby of her own!”
Tess’s chin quivered as she reached for her. “Hi, Gran,” she whimpered, hugging her tightly. The boy, Luke, just stared at us with wide, blinking eyes while looking around hesitantly.
I looked over at Savannah, who was still sitting on the floor, her jaw hanging open. “What the fuck? A kid?” she mouthed at me. I shrugged a shoulder, not knowing what to say.
“You’re nothin’ but skin and bones, sweet pea. Let me make you somethin’ to eat. Are you two hungry? I’m gonna make y’all somethin’,” Gran said, rushing off to the kitchen.
Luke clung to Tess’s leg, likely freaked out with all these new people. He seemed shy, like she was when she was real little. I should’ve said something to him, introduced myself, but I was too stunned to do any of it.
Tess looked so grown up since the last time I’d seen her, since we all had seen her last. She was a woman now, and apparently a mother. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t stop staring at her, struggling to connect this stranger in front of me to the young girl whose hair I did for her senior prom, whose diapers I changed as a baby.
Tess looked at Savannah. “Hi, Savvy,” she said timidly, swallowing hard.
Her grip tightened on her wine glass, but my sister didn’t bother to get up from the floor. “What are you doing here, Tess?”
Tess blinked quickly as if she hadn’t expected to be interrogated. “I-I’m here for Mama’s funeral. I had to come.”
“You couldn’t have come a week earlier to say goodbye? Or three years ago, when she was diagnosed? Or any other time for that matter?”
