Willa was silent a moment, then said, “Yes, you should be. Tell her I’ll see her Friday night. I am saving her a seat beside me.”
“I will.”
We said our good-byes just as I pulled into the drive at Riley’s. I wished that Gunner’s acceptance and Riley’s chance at a female friendship could fix all my problems. A week ago this would have been all I needed.
Not now. My problems were deeper. Unfixable.
Riley opened the door before I got to it with Bryony at her legs waving at me as I walked toward them. “Mom is setting another place at the table. She’s happy you’re here. But be ready for Grandmamma. There is no telling what she will say or who she will think you are.”
There was a smile on her face as she said it, like she was amused by her grandmother and loved her.
“I’m looking forward to dinner with your family. Thanks for letting me escape here. Going home seems impossible.”
Her smile faded, and she nodded.
“Hi,” Bryony said brightly.
I turned my attention to the little girl looking up at me. “Hello, Bryony. Have you had a good day?”
She nodded. “I made corm bwead.” I was assuming that was corn bread.
“I can’t wait to have some. I’ll bet it’s delicious.”
“Oh, it is. I’ve already been brought two slices with butter. She keeps feeding me,” Riley said with a laugh. “Come on in,” she told me as she stepped back so I could enter the house.
Her father was sitting in the recliner with a newspaper in his hands and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He looked up at me. “Hello, Brady. Glad you could join us tonight. I’m always outnumbered by women.”
“Thanks for having me on such short notice,” I replied.
He waved a hand as if to say no problem. “Not at all. Anytime. We like the company.”
“I can’t find my yellow butter dish. Have you used it?” Grandmamma asked, shuffling into the room from the kitchen.
“No, ma’am,” Riley replied.
She frowned. “I’ll need that if I’m gonna make the rolls for the pot roast.” She turned and went back into the kitchen.
“She’s been trying to cook all afternoon. Lyla is exhausted from it,” Mr. Young said once she was out of the room.
From the little I’d seen, it was like taking care of a child.
“I’ll go see if I can help. Brady, do you want to go to my room and start homework until dinner?” She was trying to get me comfortable and not leave me alone with her dad. I appreciated it, but I needed to get in good with her father. I wanted him to approve of me.
“I think I’ll visit with your dad and watch the news. See what’s happening in sports,” I told her.
She didn’t hug me, but the expression on her face said she wanted to. Seems my decision had just scored me some points.
“Okay, then. It shouldn’t be too much longer,” she said before hurrying into the kitchen.
Bryony stayed right behind her, skipping as she went.
“That girl loves her momma. Riley has made a wonderful mom. Couldn’t be prouder of her,” Mr. Young said as they disappeared into the other room.
“She’s really impressive,” I agreed.
“That she is. A strong girl. Life hasn’t been fair to her, but she seems to find joy in the little things. And, of course, in Bryony. She’s the least selfish teenage girl I know.”
I nodded.
He set his paper down in his lap and took off his reading glasses, then placed them on the table beside him before leveling me with his gaze.
“You’re a good kid. I’ve always thought so. You’ve got dreams and talent. Ain’t a thing wrong with that. It’s admirable,” he began, and although that sounded good I was worried about the tone he had taken with me. “But that girl in there is my baby. I’ve never hurt as badly as I did when her childhood was taken from her. The dreams and hopes for her future were snatched out from under her. It just about broke me. But she showed me and her mother that she’s strong and her dreams and hopes could change. With that, so did ours. But her future doesn’t fit into your world.” He paused and studied me to make sure I was listening.
“I don’t want my girl hurt again. She’s not had a friend since we left this place. Having you has helped her. I appreciate what you’re doing. But don’t let her think there could be more for the two of you when there can’t be. She’s a mother, but she’s also just a seventeen-year-old girl.”
Hurting her was the last thing I’d ever do. My dreams weren’t what they once were either. My father had changed that. I nodded my understanding.