Page 26 of Sparrow

“Let me stick this in some water then I’ll be ready. You can come in. It won’t take me long.” I turn and head into the kitchen. I don’t have a vase or anything to put it in, so I opt for a small coffee mug. “There. That’ll do.”

He watches me, clearly amused.

“What?” I ask.

“You just haven’t changed at all.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve changed a little.” I sling my purse over my shoulder. “Ready?”

“Yes ma’am, I am.”

God. That Southern drawl shouldn’t even be legal.

***

(Grayson)

The ride from Tybee Island back to Savannah is ordinarily an easy one. Thirty minutes and a couple turns, but this ride in particular, with Amelia Haven at my side, is proving to be a test of my control.

Her perfume, all sweet and inviting, is filling the cab of my truck. It’s making it increasingly hard to concentrate on driving and not pull the truck over and dive headfirst into her.

“Who’s the drawing from?” Her voice pulls me from my own thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“That. The little drawing on your dash.” She points to the small, scribbled picture Cadence gave me last year. Well…now’s the time to have this conversation.

“That is a drawing from my daughter, Cadence.” I glance her way to gauge her reaction. She seems to only process for a moment before speaking.

“You have a daughter?” she asks.

“I do. She’s four.” I pull my cell phone from my pocket, using my fingerprint to unlock it then pass it over to her. “That’s her as my wallpaper.”

“Oh, Gray, oh my goodness. She’s beautiful. She looks so much like you.”

“So you’re saying I’m beautiful?” I smirk her way and am rewarded with a roll of her eyes.

“You’re too much, is what you are.” She passes my phone back to me. “So, where are you taking me to eat? You know how I am with food. I need it in large quantities and preferably greasy and bad for me.”

She accepted the fact that I have a daughter with such ease and without missing a beat. The relief I feel is real.

“You’ll see in a few seconds.” I make a turn into Savannah’s historic district.

“Tease.”

A few minutes later, I pull into a small parking area behind a brick building. As soon as I open the door, the smell of barbecue wafts through the air, and she knows instantly where we are.

“The Pit! It’s still open?” She climbs out before I can open her door like the spitfire, modern woman she is.

“It is. Jason and his wife own it now because Mr. Taylor retired, but it’s still the same as it always was. Delicious and the best in town,” I reply, placing my hand at the small of her back to guide her across the street.

“I’m about to gain thirty pounds in one sitting and I’ll love every minute of it.”

***

She’s an enigma, this girl. She looks like a goddess with her curvy body, fire-like hair, creamy pale skin, and blue eyes; but she is a down and dirty Southern girl at the core. This has never been more evident than right now, as I watch her devour a brisket sandwich and smoked sausage, with a side of Southern cornbread pudding, and a sweet tea without batting an eye. She even has sauce on her cheek. She’s perfect.

“Enjoying yourself?” I ask with an amused tone.

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